#dealing with panic disorder

[doveshovel]

ahghdsfjhdsfa sorry guys i forgot i had an anxiety disorder and have been doing nothing to manage it for a week 👍will probably have more energy after i remember how to deal with this

[chartreuxcatz]

Anyways. I hope everyone with acne, eczema, vitiligo, psoriasis, dermatitis, dermatillomania, and other skin conditions have a good day today

[xxxemilyg1996]

"Ah man, my dad's dead" me, just now remembering that my father is in fact, actually dead and has been for almost 3 years

[billy-theratking]

I'd Know You Anywhere, My Love - Part 2

Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington

Warnings: Violence, injuries, panic attacks

Steve winced when he heard the telltale thud of something colliding with the front door, followed by the frantic jingle of keys before the lock was flipped and the wooden obstruction was thrown open by a disheveled Robin.

Her mouth opened, but Steve hastily raised a finger to his lips to signal that his roommate should keep her voice down. Robin’s gaze narrowed and she leveled him with a look, which would’ve been much more effective if her eyes hadn’t betrayed her fear.

Steve could certainly relate.

He was still processing all that had happened since he’d crawled out of bed, and the implications of Hargrove being alive were just now occurring to him. The Billy he saw before his panic attack hadn’t been human, at least… not completely. He hadn’t hallucinated the blond’s altered appearance, he knows that much.

Not to mention the fact that the slimy footprints that he had snapped photos of before mopping up made it clear that there’d been a rift to the Upside Down in their living room at one point during the night.

Steve had gone cold with the knowledge that there had been a gateway to the teen’s own personal hell just one door away from him while he slept,  he was just lucky that it was Billy who came through and not… something else.

But the thing that Steve was stumped on was the fact that there was a distinct lack of a rift when he left his room and El was the only person he knew that could close gateways between the two dimensions. Steve knew that the rifts didn’t just mend themselves, so that just begged the question of whether it was possible that Billy was capable of sealing the tears just like El.

“Steve, where is it? Don’t tell me you left that thing to its own devices!” Robin hissed, pulling Steve from his morbid speculations. “I don’t know what it told you, but it is not Hargrove. Hargrove is dead.”

Steve grimaced, it’s not like he wasn’t there. He watched, frozen, as Billy stood up to the monster. Watched as Billy was impaled, watched as he dropped, watched as Max cried over her dying brother. Watched him choke out his last words, words Steve had been too far away to hear. Watched the puddle of black blood steadily grow underneath him still body.

His eyes had stung with tears, a lump lodging itself into his throat, stealing his voice. He felt like he was a little kid again, like he had been transported back into the body of that lonely boy who was abandoned by his dismissive parents, who was terribly frightened of the silence he found himself surrounded by.

“Steve! Calm down, you’re going to trigger an attack.” The brunet blinked, Robin’s worried face swimming into vivid clarity. “There you are, now breathe with me.” She immediately took an exaggerated breath in and Steve made a valiant attempt to copy her, his inhale was shaky and his lungs forced the breath back out almost immediately.

But Robin didn’t seem to mind, merely breathing in again to prompt Steve to do the same.

His brows furrowed when he realized that he was seated on the floor, practically curled into a ball. His face heated up in embarrassment, but Robin just continued to map mindless patterns onto his heaving back with her finger.

“Thanks.” Steve mumbled, grateful for Robin’s patience with him. He knew he was a wreck. Life had shattered him, leaving the brunette to try and fit the jagged edges of himself back together into something that resembled functional.

“No need to thank me Steve, it’s what friends are for.” Robin’s tone left no room for argument and Steve had long since given up on trying to talk her out of rooming with him.

“I took a cold shower so there’s plenty of hot water for you if you want to- Bambi? Are you okay?”

Steve’s head whirled towards Billy, who had paused in the mouth of the hallway, the darkness there partially hiding him from view. He was clad in sweatpants -one of Steve’s favorite pairs- which displayed the plethora of pale scarring from familiar wounds that were located on the blonde’s damp sides and chest.

“Who’s this? Why are you hunched like that? Did she do something?” The blond’s voice had dropped into something more… unhinged by the third question.

Billy’s glacial eyes slid away from Steve to fasten onto Robin, a predator sizing up their prey. His gaze was bright with the promise of violence, it was an unsettling expression that the brunet was well-acquainted with.

Steve glanced at Robin to gauge how she was handling the pressure of that deranged stare, which was why he caught the way her own gaze flicked over to the bat. Steve had propped it up against the arm of the couch, not wanting it to be far away just in case another rift opened.

She tensed in a telling way and Steve’s eyes widened when he realized what she intended to do, which meant that Billy probably noticed as well.

“Robin no- Wait!” He reached out to grab her, but she was already off the ground and making a mad dash for the melee weapon. Billy tore after her with a wide, feral grin that sent chills down Steve’s spine.

The brunet scrambled upright as Billy collided with Robin, her extended hand missing the handle of the bat by a few measly inches before they both went down with an audible thud. Robin wheezed when Billy’s full bodyweight crushed her, struggling weakly when the blond shifted until he was straddling her back to keep her down.

“Don’t worry Bambi, she’s not going anywhere.” Billy’s gaze was pinned to Robin’s neck, his lips peeling back in the parody of a smile before his tongue ran over his blunt human teeth.

“Hold on, this is just a big misunderstanding. Please get off her.” Steve grabbed Billy’s bicep, gently tugging to coax the puzzled blond to his feet.

“Bambi, what-” Billy cut himself off with a grunt when Robin unexpectedly kicked out, his left knee buckling with a sickening pop that had Steve’s insides lurching. Billy dropped down onto his good knee with enough force to make the brunet cringe, the blond’s loud cursing making it clear that it had felt just as painful as it had looked.

Steve didn’t even realize that Robin had moved until Billy grabbed his wrist in a borderline painful grip, looking over the brunet’s shoulder with panicked blue eyes.

“Fuck! Steve, get behind me! She’s got your bat-”

“Steve, get away from it! I’m putting this thing down-”

The brunet sucked in a surprised breath when he was dragged away from Billy by the back of his shirt, only to abruptly jerk to a harsh stop that made his shoulder scream in protest when the arm that the blond held hostage was pulled taut. Steve flinched at the hot stab of pain that zipped down to the tips of his fingers, gritting his teeth against the uncomfortable pull.

The next moment though, the blond was releasing his iron grip on Steve’s wrist. The brunet stumbled back with the strength of Robin’s insistent pulling, his roommate putting distance between Steve and Billy, the latter having relocated both hands to his wounded knee.

There was a sharp crack when the blond jerked the injured limb to the side, then Billy was gingerly climbing to his feet, scowling at his left leg when he put weight onto it.

Robin’s fingers fell away from Steve’s shirt in favor of readying the bat for a full assault, the blond’s gaze fixing itself onto the brandished weapon before he froze. Billy’s eyes repeatedly jumped from the spiked end of the bat to Steve, his features downright malicious as he held his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Okay… let’s just leave Harrington out of this, yeah?” Billy would’ve appeared casual to almost anyone else, but Steve had seen the brutality that lurked behind the blond’s nonchalant demeanor too many times to be fooled himself. There was fury burning like an uncontrollable inferno in his eyes, his compact body a ridged line.

Steve was baffled by how fast the blond had backed off until he considered where each of them stood in relation to one another. The brunet was positioned a step in front of his roommate, and she had moved to the right in order to give herself room to swing.

The teen’s brows shot up to his hairline when he realized that, in Billy’s eyes, it probably looked like Robin was preparing to hit Steve. Which meant that there was an overwhelming possibility that the blond wasn’t going at her right now because he believed that Robin was using him as leverage.

“What? You’re the one who dragged him into this by wearing that fucking face!” Robin spat, taking a menacing step forward. Steve winced at his friend’s declaration, because to Billy it would definitely sound like a threat.

“Just wait till I get my hands on you…” The blond purred, his arms lowering back to his sides, hands curling into tight fists.

Unfortunately, Steve couldn't see a peaceful end to this situation, each scenario he thought up resulted in an outcome that was worse than the first.

He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know how to keep Robin and Billy from killing the other. His ribcage tightened, threatening to compromise his ability to breathe. Steve’s next exhale left his lungs in the form of a desperate gasp, white noise filling up his ears.

“Easy Bambi, it’s alright. I won’t let her hurt you.” Billy’s voice softened into something that should’ve been soothing, but the blond’s words only made it that much harder to inhale. Someone was going to die, someone was going to be reduced to a cooling corpse in his living room because he couldn’t manage to get his traitorous body under control and explain the situation to them.

“What the hell? I’m not going to- Shit, Steve, you're not looking so good.” Robin took her eyes off of Billy to instead take inventory of the wheezing brunet, her grip on the bat loosening a fraction as she debated on how to proceed.

Steve chanced a brief look at Billy just in time to see the blond shift his weight in a telling manner, Robin redirecting her attention away from Billy for that split second was all the blond needed in order to gain the upper hand.

Billy moved with all the grace of a deadly predator, rapidly closing the distance between them with speed that was almost inhuman.

Thankfully, Robin had been honing her reflexes since she found out about the Upside Down and the nightmarish creatures that dwelled within the twisted dimension. So Steve wasn’t exactly surprised when Robin managed to shove the brunette out of the line of fire before swinging the bat with a ferocity that would make professional baseball players green with envy.

The blond’s grin was all teeth as he ducked at the last possible moment to avoid the lethal hit, Robin backpedaling in order to maintain the open space between the two blood-thirsty individuals.

They circled each other as Steve debated what he could possibly do to avoid the death of either of the teenagers and, the first thing that popped into his mind was risky, but it had a high probability of stopping them both in their tracks. So when Robin planted a rough kick to Billy’s chest to knock him off-balance and wound up for another swing, Steve scrambled up from the floor and threw himself between the two.

Robin’s eyes blew wide, a horrified gasp of his name bursting from her lips. The brunet was frozen, watching as his trusty bat came hurtling toward his head. There was no doubt in his mind that he was about to die, and at the hands of his best friend no less. He hoped that she knew that he wasn’t mad at her, that he forgave her without hesitation or lingering spite.

He couldn’t close his eyes, couldn’t pry his gaze away from the horrified look on Robin's face. The approaching nails that seemed to excitedly reach out for his soft flesh were a mere blur in his peripheral vision.

Then, suddenly, there was the rush of wind across his face as a tanned arm shot out, blocking Robin’s pale, panicked features from his sight. Steve’s uncomprehending gaze followed the limb, eyes screeching to a halt on the charcoal-colored wrist.

Billy had somehow managed to get his right arm around Steve’s head and, using a hand that was suddenly adored with deadly claws, caught the bat by the crooked nails. The unyielding metal spikes bit into dark flesh when they met the blond’s extended appendage, the momentum pushing Billy hand back towards Steve’s wide-eyed expression. The scrape of the nail’s sharpened tips raked across the brunet’s cheek, red lines raising in their wake.

Steve tensed when the broad chest that was pressed flush against his back vibrated, a low sound working its way out from between the blond’s gritted teeth. The brunet realized with a start that Billy was growling, the menacing rumble was unlike anything Steve had ever heard before. It was high and raspy, like a hiss, but with a deeper echo that had the hair on the brunet’s arms standing on end.

Sure, he had jokingly called Billy an animal earlier, but if how the blond reacted to Robin’s hostility was any indication… Billy had some serious issues in the upstairs department.

Billy’s grip on the bat tightened and Robin relinquished the weapon to the blond immediately, even going as far as backing away a few shaky steps. Steve watched her retreat, a lump getting stuck in his throat when her trembling hands lifted to cover her face with a shuddering curse muttered into her palms.

Steve was careful to keep himself between Billy and Robin as the blond used his free hand to pry the bat away from his palm, the nails coming free from the torn flesh with a wet squelch that had Steve’s insides churning uneasily.

The blond’s lip curled into a sneer as he scrutinized the several holes that now littered his hand, like their mere existence offended him. The mutilated limb was leaking the same dark sludge as before, the ink-like blood pooling in his palm before running over the edge of his hand, the thick streams of the dark liquid spilling out onto the floor.

Billy kept a hold of the weapon with his undamaged hand, gripping just under the plethora of chaotically placed nails as he turned the makeshift weapon this way and that as if to study it.

“I’m sick and tired of this fucking bat.”

Billy’s voice was… wrong. It sent an icy chill down Steve’s spine, the cold settling heavy in his stomach and making the organ churn uneasily. Billy talking was somehow so much worse than the growling he’d heard from the blond earlier.

Within one breath and the next, the gray claw around the bat flexed, the wood splintering under the force of compression put behind the violent action. Both Steve and Robin flinched at the loud crack, the latter even taking a step toward the pair in front of her in a useless attempt to protect Steve.

“Fuck off, bitch.” Steve shuddered as the blond’s raspy voice sounded from right next to his ear, Billy’s breath caressing his skin with each heaving breath. The entirety of this situation was giving the brunet mixed signals.

The press of Billy’s body at his back and his breath on his neck was familiar and intimate, but Steve’s animal brain kept screaming at him to run, insisting that the blond was dangerous. So it left Steve caught in this awkward limbo between utter terror and inappropriate arousal. 

“You take another step and I’m gonna gut you and skip-rope with your intestines.” Billy snarled as one of his gray hands came forward and placed itself possessively across Steve’s stomach, pulling him with Billy as the blond took a step back and away from Robin.

The female teen looked visibly confused for a moment before Billy’s words registered and some light bulb went off in her head. The whole process looked painful and Steve wasn’t really following.

“Wait, so you’re not trying to hurt Steve?” Robin asked, disbelief dripping from each syllable, which made Billy bristle at his back. They stood in mutual silence for a few seconds before the blonde teen broke it with a snarl.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You’re the one that barged in here acting all crazy and shit!” At the smooth sound of the blond’s smooth baritone, Steve glanced down at the hand across his waist and, sure enough, it was back to its normal tan color. Thank god. At least the confusion stopped Billy’s murderous rage in its tracks.

“Me!? You’re the dangerous creature from another fucking dimension-”

“Ha! That’s fucking rich coming from the one who went at me with a bat and used Steve-”

“Okay, stop!” Steve’s voice rang out into the apartment and the squabbling teens went silent. “Robin, he’s not gonna hurt me. Billy, she’s not trying to hurt me. No one is maiming anyone! Both of you can chill the fuck out now!” The brunet was panting by the end of his heated rant and both teens were staring at him with wide eyes.

Then Billy was shaking, his surprisingly high-pitched laughter filling the room and breaking the tense silence that had descended upon them. It was the soft, genuine laugh that Steve would sometimes hear when he caught Billy off guard with a stupid joke or embarrassing story from his youth and the sound sent a bolt of grief through him at the reminder of that comfortable companionship he'd had with the blond.

Right up until Steve fucked it all up.

“Are we done here?” The question came out more harsh than Steve had meant it to, and Billy’s laughter abruptly stopped as he finally let go of Steve and stepped away to give the brunet some breathing room.

“Damn Bambi, you’ve got one hell of a mean streak.” Billy crooned with a flirtatious smirk that didn't reach his eyes before addressing Robin. “Truce?”

He held out a hand, but Robin didn’t reach for it. She merely leveled the offered appendage with a distrusting glare, opting to instead turn to Steve for advice on how to proceed.

The brunet shrugged and nodded towards Billy’s outstretched hand, Robin rolling her eyes before taking the blond’s attempt at an olive branch. She startled as the grip on her limb was used to jerk her closer.

“I’m not sorry for my actions and I will do it again if you pull something. But keep in mind that next time, Steve won’t be able to stop me.” Billy said mildly, tone deceptively casual, as if he were simply making a comment about the weather instead of threatening to kill someone.

Robin ripped her arm from his lax grasp, taking Steve by the wrist and dragging him into the kitchen for some privacy.

“What are we gonna do about him? He’s a wild card that we don’t need right now.” Robin hissed as soon as they were relatively alone, briefly glancing back at a smiling Billy, who had obediently stayed exactly where they had left him in the living room.

Steve shook his head in disagreement, the action pulling her attention back to him. “It’s not him that’s the problem, Robin. It’s the implications of him being here and alive. That’s the problem.”

They both glanced over at the blonde, who’d apparently gotten bored with their secrecy, and planted himself onto the couch with some snacks.

“The Upside Down.” She whispered, like if she spoke too loudly then one of the Demogorgons would hear her and rip open a portal to kill them right there. Steve nodded in agreement, fearing that if he tried to speak, that his voice would crack and give away his horror.

He thought that he had gotten rid of that terrible dimension and all of it’s fucked-up monsters, but it always managed to slither its way back into his life, affecting him and the kids. He was already on a cocktail of intense medications because of the trauma and now it’s come back for more.

“Steve, if this is the Upside Down, that means they’re in danger too. You know what we have to do.” Robin stared imploringly at the reluctant brunet until he caved. Either they warned the kids, or the rugrats found out the hard way and someone got hurt.

“You’re right. We need to call El and Max.”

----

@dragonflylady77

[rubiesintherough]

.

[capricornsicle]

4x11 "A Promise to the Dead" — Liam & Berserkers

[angria]

Another disaster.  Although not necessarily attachment related (I think).

We started off with my text and why I was so panicked from last session.  Not looking at him, I said that his attention and care will change.  How he didn’t help me like he usually does when I get that dysregulated.  T explained the attention and care he holds towards me has not changed and there are times when he misses the mark, which must have happened on Monday.  All of that spiraled into how change is inevitable–how I have changed, how relationships and circumstances are always changing.  Still not really looking at him, I said change is bad.  It always leads to bad.  He brought up leaving teaching and applying for school, but I said those were my choices.  I chose to leave teaching.  I chose to apply to school.  Other change is bad or leads to bad.  Like J leaving or our sessions.  Then that is what set things off.

I finally looked at him and said that I hate this, I hate Zoom.  I want to be back in-person.  T told me we are in-person (on Mondays), I shook my head and said I want both.  I want both sessions in-person, like it used to be.  Giving his usual answer, he said this is how it is and probably will be indefinitely.  That I need to accept this change.  Twisting my face, I yelled I hate that word.  That it means defeat and hopelessness.  I will not accept this change.  This can’t be it.  This can’t be forever.  By this point, I turned my back to him, looking down and starting to tear apart my hand.  We sat in silence for almost the rest of the session as I became more and more dysregulated, bordering on hyperventilating.  I couldn’t stand it anymore and started rubbing and hitting my head.  This can’t be it.  It can’t.  Otherwise it’s hopeless.

Once I started hitting, T asked me to look at him, to turn and face him.  When I turned, he smiled and told me he knew that wasn’t easy to do.  My eyes started to look down again when he pointed to his eyes and asked if I saw caring.  I nodded as the crying started.  That’s when T said, “I want you to hear this.  You are important.  My caring and value of you does not change, even though I know it feels like less than over Zoom.  But, I am grateful we are still able to communicate and work together through this.  And I want to know and hear how you are feeling, what you are thinking.  You need to share these with me, no matter when they come up.”  Full-on crying by the end of the session.  I added that I just wanted to SH.  Care coming from his eyes even more, he said, “You don’t deserve that.  I understand why you want to, but you do not deserve that.”  We went through a self-care plan for the evening before hanging up.  I still did the semi-SH later, which doesn’t count to me.  Logically, I know it still does, but I just couldn’t stand it.

Feel exhausted today.  Empty.    

[naturalbornlosers]

ocd is an absolute clownshow of a disorder get me OUTTA HEREEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[100dayproductivity]

93/100.

Grief Days 10-14.

Two weeks Tumblr! It's been exactly two weeks since I had to say goodbye to my cat forever. I have made it through these two weeks okay and I feel I should acknowledge myself for that.

Let's take stock.

I've gotten over the initial deep sadness of seeing my cat take his last breath. I am starting to get used to him not being around. (Just starting to; I still have a long way to go.)

My other cat is also grieving in his own way. I've noticed that he has been more clingy, wanting to be around me almost all the time. He is not generally a cuddler, never wants to be in your lap, but these past two weeks he settles down beside me as close to me as possible without actually being in my lap. He and his brother napped together all the time, always cuddling up to each other, especially during the winter months. So I think he definitely misses the company of his besty. I am trying my best to reassure him and make him feel safe and loved, and that helps heal my heart.

I've gotten over the initial deep sadness of my eldest leaving home for university. It seems that a community of her fellow students already started to form in the two days before classes even started, so she has not been feeling alone as far as I can gather. She has unpacked and settled into her little dorm room, sent me a video of what it looks like, so I can picture what her mornings and evenings will look like as she studies and relaxes, and this gives me comfort. We have texted almost daily, usually in the evenings before bed, and we will soon fall into a new rhythm of communication as she settles into her class schedule and establishes her daily routine.

My youngest got through his first day of high school without any pomp or circumstance. I asked whether he was nervous or excited and he said he was neither, so I think he will quickly adjust to the new school year. During the couple of days between his sister leaving home and the first day of school, we spent some nice quality time together. It was a different dynamic without his sister present. Different but nice. I can see how he is quickly maturing and how I am quickly adjusting to being a different kind of mother to this boy who is becoming a young man. I am still grieving the end of being a mother to little ones, but I'm beginning to feel joyful about being a mother to adults. I will still have moments of deep grief, I'm sure, but maybe less intense and less often with time.

Still looming on the horizon is my ex's wish to move my son overseas with him. I have received encouraging counsel and support from my lawyer, so I'm tentatively hopeful that things will work out without any raging battles.

I've just realized that another thing weighing heavy on my heart right now is my living situation. I'm beginning to feel like it's time for me to move house. The location and size of my house was amazing when my kids were little, but more and more now I'm beginning to wonder whether it still makes sense for me to continue living here. If I was awash in wealth it wouldn't be a question, but I'm not, and it's getting less and less affordable for me to live here. Did you know that moving is among the most stressful life events? It's right up there with death of a loved one and divorce. So yeah, yet another facet of this grief I am feeling. The challenge for me here is that I have a lot of clutter. The thought of having to move gives me a huge amount of anxiety. It would be less if I got organized and cleared stuff out. Which actually is the initial reason I started this blog. But the need to declutter and clean up has felt more urgent these past two weeks.

All of this and more is what makes me feel on the verge of a panic attack. Still going to continue with the increased anxiety medication dosage!!

[crabussy]

U have ur anon off!!!

Anyway I was gonna say u seem like u have anxiety

you have one guess for the reason I have anon off. starts with 'a' ends with 'nxiety'

[marinsawakening]

Begging people writing characters with mental health issues to think a little about what experience those characters have with those issues. So often I see characters who supposedly have had mental health issues for years acting like the depressive episode or panic attack in the story is their first ever, and it makes it really hard to take seriously. This is more prominent in fanfic than in original fiction, so fanfic writers, please take note.

Let's take a character with panic attacks as an example. Ask yourself:

How often/how long have they dealt with this problem? If your character has a history of panic attacks, they will almost certainly recognize one when it occurs, and will be far less likely to think they're dying or be confused.

Have they had access to professional help and/or community support? A character who has been to therapy should know how to healthily cope with panic attacks; they will also be abe to explain the problem better. However, a character who hasn't, has still likely developed coping mechanisms if this is an ongoing problem; how healthy those coping mechanisms are is question two.

What is their personality/history? Not everyone has the same kind of panic attacks and not everyone benefits from the same coping mechanisms. Some people are helped by others talking them through their panic attack; for others, this makes it worse. Some people curl into a ball; others start punching. A character often put in fight or die situations will be less likely to freeze during a panic attack than they will be to fight.

Are you writing this for angst? This one's for the fanfic authors. Not saying you can't give a character panic attacks for angst reasons, but if you're just trying to mine that sweet angst that comes with having your fave panicked and hyperventilating, please consider whether the situation and character actually fit your desired angst scenario. Pre-established mental health issues might not be your best fit, and panic attacks can occur in neurotypicals just fine. Mental health issues aren't mindless angst fodder and you should treat them with respect.

Exceptions apply, obviously; a character who has been going to therapy for years may still be caught off guard by this particular instance of their issues resurfacing. A character with a typically fighty personality may go catatonic when faced with a panic attack. Stuff Happens.

But the point is, mental health issues aren't a one size fits all. Please put some thought into how your character would realistically deal with them.

[onceuponaweirdo]

You know what? I love kids, I absolutely adore those little fuckers and think they are a very important part of society. I love the kids in my family, they are smart, bright and adorable things.

But I, and there's always a but here with me, i don't want kids, I won't have kids. And I find it excruciating to have to spend my days watching over five kids (family or not), that are loud, purposefully annoying, have no sense of when to stop, which is basically every existing children baseline I understand. But I also am sensitive to noise and I find it humiliating that I, a 23 year old, near tears every time Wednesday comes because I am already exhausted and overloaded by them and the week hasn't ended yet.

[ryn-city]

everything is in turmoil!!

[grisklein]

It's like god or whatever higher power is torturing me slowly. I get one good thing and then two bad things happen. I get one good day and three bad days follow. I can't ever catch a fucking break. It's always fucking something and it doesn't ever end.

[capetowncapers]

Ohhhh i do not think I just go for a normal blood test to get tested for Lyme I see…. :’) Part of me wants to know more to be prepared + because it might be perfectly fine and not scary but part of me doesn’t wanna scare myself worse. Jesus Christ.

[peppermintbiotics]

you know it's gettin bad when you start calculating the value of everything you own