#get my work done and stretch my adderall as far as i can

[babyboy-cody]

Hi I’ve recently stumbled across your new Dolan twin stuff and the way you write is amazing!! Are your requests open? If so can you do something w gray where he’s all soft and needy and cuddly and she needs to get school work done so she just sits in between his legs doing work and he plays w her hair etc etc.??

thank you!! and yes, requests are always open! ^.^

Finals week was possibly the hardest and most stressful thing you’ve ever done in your entire life on Earth. Studying for midterms during your junior year of high school, applying for colleges, applying for jobs, studying for your driver’s test - all of that was a piece of cake. You checked it off as though it was a grocery list, moving on to the next thing in order to finish your day. But finals week for your final year of college was a mix of Adderall, panic attacks, no sleep, and bitten nails and nail beds. You’ve never experienced such stress, and it worried not only you, but Grayson as well. You rarely ate, barely showered - he even had to buy you blue-light glasses because you complained about your vision being blurry and getting intense migraines.

He deeply and terribly missed you. He understands how difficult finals can be, and he supports you till the end. But what you’ve been doing is unhealthy. You don’t have a steady schedule to separate your academic life from your personal life, and it’s been causing lots of issues. You’ve been unintentionally snapping at Grayson, especially over the littlest things. For example, Grayson was incredibly sweet enough to clean up your desk area. He stacked your books in chronological order, neatened up your notes, wiped away dust that caused his allergies to spike. Accidentally, he misplaced your glasses. And you had a fit and nervously paced back and forth while biting your already bitten nails.

“Baby…” he softly spoke. “They’re over here.” And he had pointed to your side of the bed where he had put them. You didn’t mean to raise your voice, and you had broken down to tears, to which Grayson quickly pull you into his arms and hushed you quietly while giving you kisses. He understood and he never once held that against you.

Today, you had finished one of three finals. You had one thesis paper you had to research for and a chart project for your liberal arts class. So far so good, you mentally told yourself. Your laptop was open to numerous tabs as you had your books open in front of you. Highlighters, pens, and pencils were spread around the bed. Your back ached and you repetitively cracked and stretched your muscles. You desperately needed a massage, specifically from Grayson because he is the king of back massages. Just thinking about his large, warm hands kneading into your skin while whispered praise in your ears had you sighing softly and closing your eyes.

“What’re you thinking about?” You heard Grayson’s voice as he enters the room, holding a plate of vegan sausages, cauliflower nuggets, roasted potatoes that are seasoned so well that you can smell it from your spot on the bed. He holds a glass of cold green tea in the other and motions for you to scoot over. “You gotta eat, babe.”

Your mouth instantly waters as you take the plate and thanks him with a tired smile and a gentle nudge on his shoulder. Grayson observes you silently as you dig into the delicious vegan dinner he cooked. The small moan you let out as you continue eating. He almost wanted to do a happy wiggle because you were eating without telling him “one more minute” or “i’ll eat later.”

“I missed you,” he quietly told you, pushing you hair away from your face as it gets to close to your chewing mouth. He tucks it behind your ear with his thumb. He strokes the back of your head, smiling you when you nudge your head back further against his hand. “When you’re done eating, we’re gonna set a healthy schedule together, okay? And then you spend time with me for a little bit.”

You sigh quietly and hand him your empty plate. “Gray, baby, I’d love to… but I have so much work to do and have zero time to relax for even two minutes,” you told him in a quiet apologetic tone.

“Okay, it’s okay,” he quickly reassured you when he saw the panic in your eyes. He gave your cheek a few small kisses and put your plate and cup on the table. “I just… missed you, ya know.”

“And I missed you more.” You felt him sit behind you, legs on either side of your crossed arms. His arms wrapped around your stomach, immediately pulling you into his hard chest hidden underneath his Dolan Twins merch sweatshirt. “Gray..”

He whined deep in your shoulder as his arms tightened when you tried to move away. You stifled a laugh by biting your lip and looking up at the ceiling. He always got so needy when you didn’t give him enough attention. If you two are in the same room and sitting too far from each other, he’ll send you a text and look at you over the top of his phone, feeling giddy when you roll your eyes jokingly and get up from your seat to go to him.

“Just a few minutes,” his voice muffled behind your shoulder. You laughed at his childish antics and brought your laptop closer to you. Grayson was happy that you didn’t shrug him off. You allowed him to do as he pleased while you finished your small project. “So pretty..”

“Thank you, baby,” you laughed quietly when he pulled your hair behind your shoulders to braid it. You remember him telling you a while ago that he learned how to braid from Cameron. He was always a curious kid growing up and wanted to learn something new everyday.

Grayson hummed in content as he finished the braid and tied it with the small hair tie he kept around his wrist for his own hair, which is getting a bit long, but he knows you’ll throw a huge fit if he gets a haircut. He wrapped his arms back around you and laid his head against your back, eyes shutting and body slouching. The weight of him got more and more heavy, slowly pushing you forward. You tried sneaking a look over your shoulder, pausing your typing for a second. The movement made Grayson let out a sluggish hum.

“Baby, come lay down on my lap,” you told him, stacking up the books you didn’t need and putting your writing utensils into your case.

Grayson lets out a small “yay!” and quickly moves down next to your lap. When he lays his head down, he gives your thigh a kiss and wiggles his shoulders. You shake your head down at him and use one hand to slowly type while the other makes its way into his thick hair. The slow clicks of your keyboard mixed with the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp and playing with his hair has him lulling to sleep. When you hear small snores, you look down and felt your heart melt. You quietly grabbed your phone and took a picture, his cheek smushed against your thigh and his lips parted.

When you posted it to Instagram, the caption was:

thank you for always supporting me and making sure i’m mentally here. i don’t know what i’d do without you. 💜 @/graysondolan

[mxm249]

After not playing a fuckton of games till 3 am lately I've realized I've got to really restructure my life

I've been so fucking stressed lately and my physical health is taking its toll

Aches across my body

A near constant pain in my leg and my back legit hurts almost all the time

I don't eat right or take time for myself that actually helps

Being addicted to video games (and specifically FFXIV) is not something I'm happy to admit

And I really want to continue on n stuff but I need to be real with myself. Doing things that I like to an extreme extent is hurting me the same as if I was doing stuff I didn't want to do. I need to regulate all things in my life. I need to start eating legit diets with caloric counts and stuff. I need to correct and keep my sleep schedule consistent

I've got outstanding obligations, bills, and I need to book appointments for my physical health(eyes and teeth). As well as see other doctors for this pain in my leg that I have a suspsion that it could be DVT. Or about the sprawling acne across my body that I haven't take seriously and is a source of stress and anxiety. Or how about a nutritionist so I can make sure I'm getting a proper diet so I don't die of heart failure in 5 years.

I need to start forming a routine of exercise and stretches. I am definitely not in a healthy condition currently and it will over time do plenty of damage.

I've got to take proper care of my dogs and I mean actually take care not this lazy bullshit I've been doing. Take care and maintain the fish I've got and actually take care of the chickens at my house

And I need to take my faith more seriously

It's very easy to see things that I dont and push them away. That kind of desire isnt simple to address exactly. But it's infinitely harder to admit when the things you do that you really do enjoy doing are an actual source of distress and your obsession with them is doing a ton of damage without realizing it. I've got to remove my identity from the actions I take. I may have played my games my entire life but it doesn't define me as much as I'd like to think.

It's extremely hard to find the line of self compassion to take care of myself, but I can't be so lenient to thr point that I fall back into my old same habits and excuse then because "I've got to be kind to myself"

That is gonna get me no where at all. I also need to work towards building more discipline. After taking Adderall for a couple weeks and realizing to my utter horror that I'm not some super secret crazy machine locked behind adhd. I have a severe lack of motivation regardless if I've got adhd or not. Motivation is built not found and I need to start building the foundation to let it flourish.

I want to learn to do bunch stuff but really my desire to think about doing stuff

Not actually sitting down and learning from the ground up certain skills. I've thought myself a writer for a long time. You wanna know how much writing I've got done? Almost none, just a few half finished stories spread across my Google drive. I'd like to think myself a reader, the amount of books I've read from front to cover could probably be counted on my fingers and toes. It's sad honestly.

But I wont get trapped into a spiral of self loathing

I have come so extremely far from where I've started

Childhood was fucking rife with stress and fear, I see it in my everday life. My relationship with my parents is either wobbly or non-existant

I could have gone down so many worst paths but I didn't

Ive got a mostly screwed on head on a more or less capable* body

I've got friends and people who care for me. And while I think I need to actually sit down and evaluate all of my relationships, it's far better than starting from 0

I've got a relatively stable job and while my be extremely stressful job, it gives me the ability to sort of afford healtcare and it's a privilege that I cannot take for granted

I am more aware of my faults than ever but rather than want to kill myself over them I've got the chance to fix them

I still remember standing outside with my sister as a 9 year old telling her I didn't want to be alive anymore. And I remember her telling me that she was gonna tell mom and I was deathly afaird and begged her to not

She didn't, but fucking imagine that. A fucking little kid wanting to kill themselves, it's absolutely horrifying. I reflect on that and it gives me pain, how could anyone let that happen? But it gives me the strength to know how to change things for others going forward

There was a lot wrong in my life and there are so many people who have hurt me

But rather than become another faceless critic I'm gonna do my best to stand up and be the kind and compassionate person I think everyone should be.

This is just another day in the ever moving journey towards a sort of self improvement. To find the fire and strength to keep going, but to find the compassion and mindfulness to be kind to myself and others. I'm doing what I can to try and cultivate what I truly think is important to have in life.

Im still struggling to really accept and realize self love, it's something I stress out over a lot. I am extremely self conscious. I think it's literally my last post, I'm always worried I talk too much or talk over people. Im really unsure if I actually do, or if I'm overthinking everything. I know it's a lot of the latter.

I've been reading a book lately and I think it's been helping a lot. Its from a monk who's quote "Don't take your life personally" has been one I've pondered and thought about for a couple of years. And now I am finally reading the book

I'm happy I've found Buddhism, it's given me confidence in a lot of ways, and I always find refuge into the 3 jewels. I am really hoping to continue onward with my journey and have Buddhism be the guide to which I live.

I've probably been writing too long and I've got work pretty early.

If anyone sees this please take a deep breath. I appreciate really anyone who would read this. Everyone deserves to be loved and loving. I hope you know youve got the strength to take on the hardships of life, but the wisdom to not let it ruin you

Please take care everyone!

[successfullyadhd]

im 31, and after over a decade of trying to figure out what is wrong with me, my therapist and I are finally thinking it’s ADHD. i’ve had a gut feeling about it for a while and every ADHD post is relatable. now the problem is finding an place that does adult assessments and is affordable (no insurance). do you have any tips on going through the assessment as an adult? and if i can’t afford it, and can’t get medication. how do i ever become the productive focused person i want to be? thanks.

Sorry in advance for the long post... I put the most relevant bits in bold for a TL;DR version.

 I know getting diagnosed as an adult can seem daunting, but you shouldn’t worry too much. While ADHD was once viewed as something that only affected children, it is now widely recognized as a lifelong disorder and you shouldn’t have to fear being dismissed because you weren’t diagnosed early in life. It’s extremely helpful that you have been seeing a therapist, and they also think you have ADHD. Ask them to send over their notes when you do go to the doctor.

As for how to get diagnosed - I’ll start by saying I hate the way American healthcare is set up, as medication and healthcare in general are expensive. I have to move frequently for me and my husband’s jobs (we both work in hospitality, and as the saying goes, “You have to move out to move up!”). Because most (all?) ADHD medications are a Schedule II drug (highly regulated but still legal), I have to get rediagnosed in every new state. I always bring my past history, but most doctors want to complete testing as they are monitored for prescribing stimulants and can lose their license if found to be providing this medication without ample documentation. (All of this to say - I have been through the procedure many times as an adult.) Depending on the state, some doctors also require bloodwork and an EKG to ensure you are healthy enough to receive the medication (although some will accept past test results if done recently enough.) Also depending on the state and doctor, they may have additional requirements. In Florida, my doctor wanted a multitude of tests, and asked for a sleep study to ensure the medication wasn’t causing poor sleep. In California, as part of the Kaiser HMO system, I was required to do periodic drug tests to ensure I wasn’t also using street drugs, and to check that the Adderall was in my system (as a test that I was using it as prescribed, and not selling it). Some states are much easier – Utah, Alabama and West Virginia all were able to diagnose me in one appointment and prescribed the medication same day. Last, a General Practitioner won’t typically prescribe it and will direct you to a psychiatrist. Even if you did have insurance, most don’t cover psychiatrists or if they do, it comes with a different deductible (because obviously mental health isn’t part of regular health (heavy sarcasm)). After diagnosing, you have to meet with the doctor once a month to get the prescription refilled – due to the Schedule II status, they can’t have it on an auto-refill like other medications and they need to ensure you aren’t abusing it or having negative side effects. (although the one good thing to come out of COVID is that it normalized tele-health appointments, since an in-person meeting with a doctor once a month can be difficult to schedule). Even though I have health insurance, I typically pay out of pocket $120 a month for my visit with the doctor, and after insurance and a coupon I pay $73 for two medications (Adderall & Vyvanse). I’m fortunate now to be able to afford that expense – at the times in my life where I couldn’t, I would request a 30 day supply of the more affordable pills and only take medication on days where I couldn’t function without it (such as doing large amounts of paperwork) and try to use learned behavior techniques the rest of the time, to stretch out my resources.

As far as what goes into the actual diagnosis – doctors most commonly use a questionnaire about your daily life to assess you. Here is a link to commonly-used questionnaires: https://www.additudemag.com/adhd-assessments-and-tests/.

I know I just made it seem very daunting to get diagnosed and on a medication, but I want to be honest with you about what the process looks like, and again, depending on where you live it can be done in one session. Now that is out of the way, let me give you some information that is more helpful:

If you can, skip asking a regular GP for a referral and make an appointment directly with a psychiatrist. This will save you the extra cost of the doctor’s appointment, just to be told someone else will help. Many places have low cost mental health centers and ADHD falls into that realm, so I would check out what is available in your city. Before making an appointment, confirm the following:

-          Do they diagnose ADHD?

-          Do they prescribe medication? (Therapists don’t prescribe, only psychiatrists, and some will not prescribe ADHD medication at all so it’s important to be clear that it is your intention to receive medication if diagnosed)

-          What tests do they require for diagnosing, and prescribing medication? (Some places may have more or less requirements, and it can even vary within a city or state. This way you will know if it’s something you can afford at the time.)

Talk with the doctor about your specific situation, and what medications are affordable without insurance. Adderall, for example, is past the 10 year exclusive patent and now has a generic version available. It comes in quick release and slow release, depending on your needs. You can also talk to the doctor about a prescription to both quick and slow release, so you take the correct medicine based on your needs for that day (marathon work day? Slow release that extends over the entire day. Afternoon project – quick release that lasts for four hours). Vyvanse is great but doesn’t have a generic version and is insanely expensive without insurance (to the tune of $350+). Use the GoodRX app to find deals on medication without insurance (Adderall is about $15 for a month supply with this app). There are a ton of drug options so look up the pricing during the doctor’s visit, so you can confirm that you can afford what they prescribe. Also keep in mind that getting a prescription filled is the same cost whether you get 1 pill or 30 (a fact I learned the hard way when getting a 10 pill prescription filled once.)

 If you read all that and thought, Thanks but no thanks, here are some other options:

-          My psychiatrist in Florida recommended that I take Rhodiola Rosea supplements in addition to medication, as it has clinically proven positive effects on ADHD symptom control. I found it on Amazon. Omega-3 fatty acid supplements are also proven effective.

-          If you’re interested in this sort of thing, here is a super comprehensive study of various dietary supplements and behavior modifications that work or don’t work for ADHD: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4968082/

-          Practicing meditation is a great way to relax your body (increased stress, while helpful for short-term tasks, can make ADHD symptoms worse long term) and train your mind to hold onto singular, important thoughts (people’s names, why you walked into the kitchen, etc). I use the Waking Up app and love it – there are also many free options in the App Store and on YouTube.

-          Regular exercise is another great way to manage ADHD symptoms, as it gives your body a natural serotonin and dopamine boost, two important chemicals your body has trouble producing and absorbing naturally.

-          Caffeine is a great, easily accessible stimulant that has a focusing and calming effect on ADHD individuals. My doctor actually asked my parents to give me coffee each morning before school when I was a child, before we moved onto prescriptions.

-          Often, there are other factors that go along with ADHD, such as anxiety and/or depression. Getting this under control can go a long way in managing ADHD as well. I’m not sure if you have any issues with those, but it can be helpful to treat both if you do. The medication Wellbutrin is used to treat depression and also has mild stimulants, which would be helpful for both conditions. It isn’t a Schedule II drug, so you can probably ask your doctor for a 3 or 6 month prescription.

-          There are a ton more mind hacks and learned behavioral mechanisms you can try – read some of my other posts for suggestions.

Of course, I have to give the legal disclaimer – all of this is based on my personal experience, I’m not licensed in the medical field in any way and only a doctor can give you proper advice for your body and situation, and what medications will be most helpful. 😊

[searlaitflanagan]

i’ve tripped and i’m falling but i’ll stop tomorrow → solo.

TAGGING — Charlie Flanagan. Dakota Shaw ( NPC ). LOCATION — Charlie’s apartment ( mostly ).  DATE & TIME — March 23, 2021; evening.  NOTES — An unexpected trigger sends Charlie down the path to relapse.  WORD COUNT & TRIGGERS — 2,141. Descriptions of drug use, anxiety & panic attacks.

The sun’s setting somewhere far beyond her apartment windows when she stirs on the couch-- calculates her ascent into wakefulness by taking stock of her entire body; she takes in the steady rise and fall of her own chest-- the pressure there likely Indy having curled up there when she fell asleep-- a thought that’s confirmed a few moments later by the sandpaper tongue brushing across her cheek as Indy greets her-- seeming to realize she’s awake before she’s as aware of herself as she’d like. “Hi, sweet boy,” Charlie mumbles, voice still thick with sleep as she buries her fingers into the shaggy fur along Indy’s neck-- a low, rolling laugh spreading through her chest as her cat begins to purr in earnest from the simple touch.

She stays there, eyes half-closed against the dim light shining through her curtains, takes a moment to enjoy the feeling of contentment spreading through her-- curling into a warmth in her chest, a lightness in the sluggish pause of her ordinarily anxiety-ridden thoughts.

She feels good. 

Settled. 

Comfortable.

She runs through the adjectives to describe her mood to herself-- the way her psychiatrist is convinced will help if she really does it in earnest when she wants to parse out her emotions in any given moment and it does work-- Charlie enjoys the bemused frown Dr. Kaplan gives her when she’s being particularly difficult but she appreciates the older woman’s patience and advice all the same. Indy shifts against her chest into a long stretch that draws both Charlie’s attention and another throaty laugh as she reaches up to scratch under his chin and accepts another lick or two against her fingers before he begins to knead her skin happily just above the hem of her t-shirt and she’s gingerly moving him into her lap as she sits up-- watching his wide amber eyes as she goes. “Lemme go get a sweatshirt before you go crazy,” She says patiently, snorting when Indy butts his head against the edge of her wrist as though offended at what she’s suggesting but he pads away easily enough when she slips off of the couch and down the hall to her bedroom.

There’s an old UCLA hoodie somewhere in her closet she hasn’t worn in months but it’s comfortable and large enough that Indy’s claws rarely even pierce the fabric so he can show her affection to his heart’s content and she can relax without monitoring cat scratches for any period of time. She knows why it’s in there-- wonders as she pushes into her room if it’ll smell musty or like Katie’s perfume considering she was the last one to wear it before—

Charlie shakes her head hard, the lump in her throat making it difficult to breathe until she closes her eyes and counts backwards from ten and tries not to think about the crescent shaped marks that might as well be tattooed into her palms as she unclenches her fists and ignores the sting she leaves behind. “It’s not gonna smell like her,” She says under her breath, shifting onto the tips of her toes to retrieve the box she’s certain the hoodie is hiding in-- one of the few things she’s never bothered to unpack. She’s not positive as to the its contents— it isn’t labelled but the dark blue sleeve flopping out of the side is all the confirmation she needs that it’s what she’s looking for. It doesn’t smell like anything at all when she raises it to her nose and she sits with the lump in her throat-- the pit in her stomach-- the fingers of disappointment that slip up the length of her spine only to seize her heart in a full grasp that leaves her choking on it.

Calm down, she thinks. Calm down. Calm down. Calmdowncalmdowncalmdown. 

Inhale. 

She can’t remember what Katie’s perfume smells like. Flowers? Something softer? 

Exhale. 

She’s going to throw up. Her fingers are trembling and her throat is stinging and she’s going to lose it.

Inhale. 

She’s okay. It’s okay. Smells go and it’s okay. She doesn’t need to remember everything. It’s okay. 

Exhale. 

She can breathe and she reaches for the hoodie with a tremble in her lips-- a quiver in her chin that gives her away to everyone she knows when she’s going to cry-- even herself. She blinks-- eyes wide and pink rimmed already-- watches the slow tumble of a note from one of the pockets and stares at it for a long moment as if it’s going to explode. No, Charlie thinks wryly, that’ll be my job. It’s probably a grocery list or a note she’d written to herself years ago that got lost in the flurry of packing she’d done between LA and Providence Peak and her shoulders slump as she unfolds it-- her anxiety abated for a fraction of a second before her brow furrows deeply at the sight of handwriting she’s so close to having forgotten she can feel the blow of remembrance like a club to the base of her skull.

A watery, rough laugh tears from her throat and it isn’t happy and it isn’t warm and it seems to saw through her as it goes-- a hollowness in the expression of mirth she doesn’t feel when she’s staring at Katie’s handwriting on the page:

VOWS TO MY LITTLE BEAR :)

Charlie chokes on her next breath-- shoves the sweatshirt and the note away from her frantically, head spinning, crashing hard into her desk chair when she stumbles back and scrabbles for a hold on something she knows she won’t get. She feels herself unraveling-- like she’s a bundle of yarn and all the universe has ever needed was the right tug at the right time to send her reeling. She chokes again-- a wracking, sharp cough the only indication her body gives that it’s protesting anything she’s feeling and she feels herself moving as though through knee deep snow, slow and labored and when she crashes to the ground in front of the toilet and vomits it doesn’t feel like enough.

Impulses she doesn’t want to feed flare to life in an instant and she vomits again to the roaring chant of ‘go get well, go get well, go get well’ thundering in the back of her mind with a force she wants desperately to counter. Her hands are sweating when she reaches for the knob on the sink-- when she spits water and what’s left of her dignity into the drain her eyes are cold and hollow, her skin pale and flushed in a measure that doesn’t make her feel anything but a growing desire to make the world quiet. When her trembling eases and she can take a step without wondering how likely she is to fall down she hurries to her bedroom again-- rifles through her desk until she finds her medication-- Adderall, to start-- it’s always to start. With trembling fingers Charlie breaks two of the capsules open and arranges the powder inside into neat lines with steadier movements than she thinks should be possible when she’s throwing her entire life down the drain with a cold cackle that she only realizes is coming from her after she’s snorting the second line and relishing in the soothing lightheadedness that hits her a few moments later.

It’s not going to end with that and she knows it. She knows it never does and never has and never will and she’s hardly looking as she shoves her feet into her shoes and texts a number she hasn’t looked at in her phone for months and still remembers like she’s been using it in the nine months since her last relapse.

[ text to  → Kota ( DO NOT TEXT ) ]: hey, dude. you got anything good? losing my mind a little. need something. 

[ text from → Kota ( DO NOT TEXT ) ]: daaaamn if it isn’t my favorite girl. i got’cha, babe -- ten minutes? my place?

[ text to → Kota ( DO NOT TEXT ) ]: cool. see ya. 

Dakota’s apartment is an equally shitty downtown building to the one she calls home but it’s familiar and even with her size she doesn’t balk in the face of the drunken cat-calls being tossed her way as she slips into his building and takes the stairs two at a time-- the high she’s still chasing already fading as she raps on his door and flashes him a crooked, fake grin that she knows he won’t recognize as anything but sincere when his half-lidded eyes are raking over her eagerly the way they always do and she’s slipping around him-- careful to brush her fingers along his forearm as she passes by.

“You miss me or somethin’?” He asks, his voice is airy and sluggish in equal measure and she hopes, absently, that he isn’t too high to give her what she needs.

Charlie shrugs, turning on her heel to face him with a smile she knows is just enough to keep his interest-- but Kota’s always been easily swayed by the way she smiles and she’s always been aware enough to take advantage of him for it. Another sin she’ll apologize for when she’s in the ground. “It’s been a while,” She says mildly, a feigned interest in her expression while she watches him. “So. You gonna help me out?” There’s no desperation in her voice and she notes it with satisfaction-- to him she must sound calm and collected-- to herself she sounds like the snap of a thread she’s been trying thicken day by day, moment by moment and knows she won’t come back from snapping any time soon.

She can step back out of his apartment and walk home and cry for an hour and forget she ever texted her former drug dealer for anything at all but when she casts a glance around the apartment and finds what she’s looking for spread out along his coffee table-- when her heart kicks into a gallop that’s half-high and half-nerves-- she knows she won’t be leaving without it and the gnawing ache of disappointment she so desperately wants to shove away only makes the craving worse. Only makes the space beneath her skin buzz with a ferocity she wants to quell with the warmth and silence that the high offers. Even if it doesn’t last.

She knows it won’t.

“How much you need?” He asks as he sits down, dark hair flopping into his eyes in a way Charlie might have found cute if she wasn’t as uninterested in him as it was possible to be.

She fishes her wallet out of her pocket-- counts her tips under her breath and raises an eyebrow in Kota’s direction as she waves two hundred dollars at him lazily, “Gram to start? Coke and some smack if you have it.” 

Dakota whistles in a gesture she thinks might be appreciative as he measures out the agreed upon drugs and passes them to her in exchange for the money-- something just shy of concern in his expression as he passes them to her. “Don’t hurt yourself, baby girl.”

Charlie rolls her eyes, already turning away as she tosses a wave over her shoulder, “That’s kind of the point, babe,” She says as she goes, head down and nerves singing as she follows the alleys between buildings home and pushes into her own apartment-- breathless and trembling all over again, the fading high of her earlier slip-up already making room for the excitement of numb relief. She’s moving without conscious thought as she shrugs off her coat and makes her way back to her room-- closing the door behind her with a quiet click as though there’s anyone else to worry as she settles down in front of her desk and flicks the lamp on with a roll of her shoulders-- her heart in her throat.

“I’m sorry,” She whispers to the empty air in her bedroom.

She still doesn’t know who she’s apologizing to. Or what she wants to be sorry for. 

Knows it even less as she portions out a line that’s equal parts cocaine and heroin and is likely going to hit her like a ton of bricks when it settles into her system; her stomach churns roughly at the thought and she takes a moment to Google how to call 911 if she can’t speak before she hunches over the drugs like she would a difficult project and inhales them in a sharp motion that makes the back of her throat sting as things settle.

She leans back with a soft, slow exhale.

She feels the world slip away in bits and pieces. 

“I’m sorry,” She whispers again. 

She doesn’t know what she shouldn’t apologize for. 

[malcolmwhitly-bright]

UnderCover

@ihavejarlsberg, am I still grounded?

Sending the socially awkward, trouble magnet to a gala for the elites of New York as bait did not seem like the best idea. Of course, Malcolm is the only person at the precinct with any idea whatsoever of what to expect from a gala of this proportion. That being said, JT would much rather have Malcolm squeeze into a tux and play love birds with Dani. It always feels incestual when he has to man that role with her like he’s kissing his little sister. 

Yet, seeing the two of them now his gut does not like it. They’re homely, the way friends aren’t. Dani is standing too close, toe-to-toe as she slips the tie from Malcolm’s fingers. She’s mumbling something as she knots the tie. Over the years of their partnership, he’s come to accept her habit. He can easily gauge how productive she is on an assignment just by watching for her mumbling. 

It took him years to learn that trick and months to appreciate it. Months of finding it akin to nails against a chalkboard. Yet, Malcolm doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, each passing second, Malcolm grins a little harder. Dani hasn’t noticed, worrying her lip between bouts of mumbling. She bites the tip of her tongue before smiling up at Malcolm,” boom! Now that’s a Windsor knot!”

Malcolm shakes his head, a contradiction the grin splitting his face in half. He touches the tie, their fingers brushing as they both admire her work. “It’s pretty good,” he relents, smiling at her with a burning intensity. JT hopes Malcolm knows better than to fly too close to the sun. Dani has destroyed her fair share of men’s hearts. Broken hearts are the least of their problems right now, no matter how disastrous an idea pairing them up might be. If even for a moment their suspect thinks Malcolm and Dani are anything besides faces in the crowd they’re as good as dead.

“Be careful.” It’s akin to something from a movie the way Gil frowns at them both and doting equally on them. He sends Dani to the limo with a kiss on her forehead and something mumbled soft, along the lines of ‘be careful’, ‘look out for each other’ and ‘you look beautiful’. Malcolm gets a tight squeeze, Gil reaches out to fix his tie but Malcolm stops him with a soft batting motion. He mumbled the same thing to Malcolm and the kid pulls away with a smile. 

It makes JT nervous. Gil is not helping soothe those nerves fidgeting about either. They stand out by the prencit until they can’t see the limo anymore, JT pats Gil’s shoulder and heads back for the doors. “They’ll be fine.”

Dani squeezes Malcolm’s hand and effectively pulls him from his thoughts. He looks up at her, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his undivided attention is bestowed upon her. It makes her face hot and her stomach uneasy. “We should have a code, something to let the other know if-” she stops herself unsure of how to word what she has to say without it sounding like he makes her uncomfortable. “What I mean is,” she tries slowly,” these things are way more than we bargained for. So, if we have to do something or say something and it ends up making one of uncomfortable- I mean, I don’t want to force you to do anything-”

He takes her hand, a light grip she could easily slide away from. Those eyes so hauntingly zoned in on her,” I trust you, Dani.” He sighs softly, his eyebrows pinched in that way she’s come to correlate to his ‘thinking’ face. “How about,” he gently squeezes her hand, a single drawn-out squeeze. “One is permission, two squeezes as a warning to go slower, and three to completely stop?”

She smiles and squeezes his hand once. He grins. 

“We’re here.”

Malcolm offers her his hand as she gets out, like a real prince charming. He walks her up the steps easily, and through the doors like he’s done it his whole life and she realizes that he probably has. Her arm fits neatly with his and she doesn’t even blink when his hand slips down to take hers. Effortlessly joining their fingers as he guides her to the bar. “They’ll think you're a recovery alcoholic if you don’t,” he explains as he places a cool glass in her hands. 

A champagne glass but when she sips it, “it’s apple juice.” His grin is contagious and he offers her his elbow again, she decides to take his hand. The fake wedding rings make so much more sense as they walk, the amount of old stuffy rich people that look at their hands is astounding. She wonders how Malcolm managed through events like these sober. Speaking of,” where’d you learn the apple juice trick?”

Malcolm finds them a table but there are no chairs. The tables, she realizes, are raised so that people can stand around them. Her feet are going to hate her for this. Luckily, Malcolm proves to be a nice distraction.

He places his identical glass down next to hers. He turns his back to the table, a simple elbow leaning on the table, and watches the crowd. He considers the question for a moment if he’s sure he wants to tell her the truth. He decides lying is far more dramatic than the truth. “Uhm… Maybe a few months after my twenty-second birthday?” He clears his throat, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye as she steps closer to him. She slides her arm around the one he has resting, squeezing before she leans against his chest and allowing her to watch the crowd behind him.

He imagines they look normal enough, just a couple resting in the corner as the night brings its patrons in. His heart still chips at his ribs, attempting to break free from his chest and go running for the hills. Her cheek is pressed to his shoulder and he silently prays that she can’t hear his heart acting a fool in his chest.

He clears his throat again, " I went off all my meds when I turned 21." The warmth of her body against him is slowing his heart back down, easing its rapid pace. Despite it being the reason his heart felt ready to burst. "I was twenty-one and the newfound freedoms of drinking was the top priority." Not a good decision, going cold off them as he had. "By my twenty-second, I came to my senses. I quiet all my bad habits, mostly just smoking and drinking-"

"Smoking?" It's a nasty habit but something about a college-aged, badass Malcolm is incredibly hot. A James Dean-esque vibe. 

Malcolm hums his affirmation, " yes. They replaced the Carbamazepine and worked like Adderall to help me focus. I'm not proud but I wouldn't have made it through college without them." He recalls the rest of the story, the original question. "Luckily, the same man had been a bartender since I was old enough to attend these. He steered me clear of the alcohol when I ordered Champagne, gave me apple juice." 

Dani isn't sure what to do with this information. 

"I've never seen you two here before, " Dani tries not to let the sudden intrusion startle her. Slowly she turns in Malcolm's arms, forcing her body to relax her back on his chest. Her bare backed dress against his jacket. She can feel his body's warmth and she takes a deep calming breath before smiling at their newfound company. 

Malcolm is quick, " we're here on my mother's behalf." He stretches his free hand out, " Malcolm Whitley." 

The old man’s face twists a little and Dani wonders why Malcolm didn’t stick with ‘Bright’. The old man extends his hand back, shaking Malcolm’s,” I’m Van and this is Ellis.”

Malcolm is sponsoring a charming smile, one she’d seen before but never this intensely. There’s still something she can’t place in the way he eyes them. “The Ardens,” Malcolm places, earning him a small smile from the couple. “It’s fantastic to see you again, of course, you probably don’t recognize me.” Their smiles are all that’s needed to confirm they don’t. “I met you with Martin at a gala in… oh, 91?”

Van nods, smiling now more knowing. Obviously, placing Malcolm much better now. “You’ve grown significantly since then,” the statement earns a small round of forced laughter. “I see you’ve married.”

Malcolm’s cheeks turn red but he plays it off well,” oh! How careless, this is my wife Dani.” He steps slightly out of the way and allows Dani to the certain of attention for a moment. Shaking the Arden’s hands. 

Ellis fixes a hard gaze on her and Dani can sense the incoming questions. The older woman smiles,” how did you two meet?”

Dani beats Malcolm to the chase,” oh, he swept me off my feet.” She knows Malcolm understands exactly what she means when his cheeks flush with embarrassment. She doesn’t mean to embarrass him so much as a playful taunt. “He cleans up pretty nice but in an FBI vest,” she whistles softly and pats Malcolm’s chest affectionately. “Really? We saw each other every day at the coffee shop. Until one day he spilled coffee all down my shirt, I was already late for work, and was pretty piss- frustrated.” She smiles,” so he took his white button-down off and gave it to me. Totally saved the day he ruined.”

Malcolm huffs softly at that, adding,” obviously it wasn’t completely ruined. She married me.”

Mercifully, the Arden’s leave them to fulfill their original mission: alcohol. It takes a few seconds for Malcolm to turn to her, a hand hovering on her hip as he leans in asks,” I swept you off your feet, really?”

Dani tries not to shiver as his hot breath ghost over her back. His hand is driving her crazy. “Yes,” her voice betrays her rampaging feelings. “You did sweep me off my feet, Malcolm.” She quickly adds,” and directly on to the floor. It’s a key moment of the foundation of our friendship.” His soft chuckle sends more air across her back. He’s driving her mad. 

“Wanna dance?” 

She can feel a cool sweat breaking out across her skin as the room goes from unbearably warm to frigid. “I-I don’t know how,” she whispers, avoiding his eyes. She adds,” and we’re supposed to be looking for our bad guys. Gil probably wouldn’t be happy if we danced the night away.”

He steps closer, pulling her nearly to his chest. She realizes why as the Adrens walk past, glancing at them before carrying on. He’s spared them from another conversation and she’s grateful. He does not step away. “No one said anything about dancing it away but the dance floor is in the middle of the room, we’ll be able to see everyone.”

So she relents because she doesn’t want to be swept away by a charming, good looking, rich, blue-eyed- God, she has got to sober her thoughts up. His warm hand in hers as he guides her to the dance floor isn’t doing the trick. Watching him smile easily and slip between people all while glancing back at her… her heart is doing silly little flips.

Suddenly, she’s pulled forward and they’re at the edge of the dance floor. Never mind she’s flush against his chest. They have the squeeze rule, all she’d have to do is squeeze his hand and they’d stop. She doesn’t squeeze his hand.

“Alright,” Malcolm’s voice is a deep rumble as he guides her hands around to his waist. “Nothing fancy,” he promises but she’s still certain it will be just that. He spreads his feet out and she mirrors it. “It’s a simple one,” he over exaggerates each step,” two, three, four.” Her eyebrows pinch together and so he does it again. Just as patient as the first time. 

“I can’t do this,” she drops their hands and she feels bad for how disappointed he looks. “I’m sorry-”

“No,” he puts his hands on her shoulders. “No, don’t apologize. You said you didn’t know and I pressured you-”

“You didn’t pressure me-” She’s suddenly chest-to-chest with him. “Malcolm-”

His voice is low in her ear, slowly swaying urging her to sway her hips. Mocking dance moves. “I see him,” he mumbles, the hand on her back tightening a little. Anxious nerves causing his hand to tremble against her back. “He’s staring at us really hard.”

It’s uncomfortable. Not because she’s half-grinding against Malcolm instead of dancing but mostly because there is a serial killer staring at them. One that he can't seem. “Staring at us like he thinks… or just grazing?”

Malcolm’s hand starts trembling against her back,” please, please don’t kick me in the business.”

“What-” He kisses her. It's soft and sweet and simple. Not a knock your socks off kind of kiss, it's the way you kiss someone you love. Something you share as you walk out the door or as one of you leaves. "Wha-What was that?"

He pulls away from the kiss, a little too out of breath for something so small. "I-I don't see him anymore." His eyes are darting around them, oblivious to Dani's question. 

She reaches up and cups his face. Stopping him from looking anywhere but her. As soon as he looks down, God, she's stupid. She kisses him back. 

"O-Oh." 

She flushes, red and hot. She squeezes his hand and Malcolm barks out a laugh. He grins down at her squeezes her hand back. 

"I think we lost him, " he admits, grin still splitting his face. "We should probably go signal to Gil."

Dani glances to the door, " how about another… ten minutes?"

Malcolm nods, still grinning, " yeah. Yeah, just in case…"

"Just in case."

------

“That was a complete waste of time,” JT grumbles, struggling to untangle the wires from Dani’s dress. 

Malcolm blushes, his ears hot,” I-I don’t think it was.”

Dani looks up, and she can’t deny she doesn’t think it was a waste of time either and she has no idea how to feel about that. 

[headfullofstories]

Truly Monstrous Luck - part 2

I wake up in a new room, and the first thing I notice is that my binder is off. Fuck. I bolt upright and bring my arms up to cover my chest. Oh no, oh no no no no no. If someone had to take it off of me, then… someone saw my body. I throw up a little bit in my mouth at the thought.

I look around the room I'm in. I'm on a cot, and… oh god, there're my tits. I curl my knees up to block them from sight, and continue to survey my surroundings. The room as a few more cots scattered about, most of them empty. There's a desk at the end of the room, currently occupied by a girl who looks a little older than me, skin the color of volcanic glass - a sort of deep blackish purple, covered in white freckles that look like stars. Her lavender hair is tied up into a bun, and she's wearing a denim jacket. Fuck, she's pretty.

She looks up at me suddenly, corneas jet black and irises a startling silver. If I was still alive I’d probably have a ridiculous blush all across my face right now.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” She lets out a sigh of relief. “Yvonne was freaking out when you collapsed, thought she pushed you too hard with that walk, which was… kind of the case, but c’mon dude, you had to know this was gonna happen if you kept this thing on.” She holds up my ratty old Underworks binder, stretched and worn from years of constant use. I’m not quite sure the last time I took that thing off, whether it was last night or the day before, but my ribs are sore as hell now.

“There’s a recommended maximum time to wear these for a reason, y’know.” She sighs, dropping it onto the desk and picking up a walkie talkie. “Yvonne?” She asks into the radio, “your kid’s awake.”

A few moments later Yvonne runs through the doorway at the far side of the room near the desk, looks around the room for a moment and sees me.

“Oh thank god.” She sighs, walking up to me. “Camilla said it was probably nothing to worry about, but… I didn’t wanna cause you more grief today.”

“You gonna adopt every single fledgling you find, Yvonne?” The girl at the desk grumbles, looking down at her phone. “That’s… five now, right? Over the past 15 years? You should introduce New Kid to the others.”

“Well, none of my other 4 have left, which is a lot more than can be said for a lot of people here.” Yvonne reasons, before turning back to me. “I’m sorry that we had to take the binder off, Victor, but you’re not supposed to sleep with it on. Or do strenuous activity, which is on me, but you really should follow the doctor’s recommendations on these things.”

“I know, but… it’s… too much, sometimes, not to wear it.” I reply cautiously, doing my best to use the right words. “I get sensory overload really easily, and looking at my body makes it… a lot worse, most of the time. Being on T has helped with a lot of the visual dysphoria, but until I get surgery I’m gonna risk it with the long hours.”

The girl at the desk grumbles something under her breath, then picks up her walkie talkie again and mutters something into the speaker. Yvonne looks saddened by this and mutters something about the healthcare system in this country, but doesn’t object outright. After a few minutes Arthur walks into the room, exchanges a few brief words with the girl at the desk, then walks over to me and stands next to where Yvonne is sitting. He sighs and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment.

“Hey kid, what are your thoughts on top surgery?” He asks, sounding a little fed up. “Because what happened today can’t happen again, and if you fuck up your ribs there’s only so much vampiric healing can fix, and you’re gonna have a bitch of an afterlife.”

My vision goes double for a moment as I try to process what I just heard. “T-top surgery?”

“We have contacts at this practice out on Long Island, some people who are… specially equipped to handle people like us.” He elaborates, “We’ll cover all of the medical expenses, so you won’t have to worry about selling your fucking soul to the american healthcare system.”

Against my better judgement, I start sobbing. Arthur looks confused and Yvonne looks worried.

“Hey kid, you good?” Arthur inquires cautiously.

“I'm really sorry,” I manage to blubber out between hiccups, “but… th-that’s the closest thing to good news I’ve had in m-m-months.”

He nods. “I had bad luck when I was your age, too. Broke a rib wearing ace bandages when i was 19, couldn't bind for a year and damn near killed myself. In a fucked up way, dying was the best thing to happen to me.”

I look up at him, wipe my tears out of my eyes, and calm down a little. “You-you’re trans?”

He flashes a demonic looking smile, all teeth and a bit of pride, and lifts up his shirt to flash twin scars sprawling across his chest.

"Came out at the Stonewall Riots when I was 18 years old." He explains, still smiling wide and wild. “Year and a half before I was turned; when that happened I was a little younger than you, I think.”

I look at him in awe. “I’ve never met a trans person that was so much older than me.”

“For real?” He snorts, crossing his arms. “I should introduce you to Liz, then. 600 years old, turned when she was 14, didn't start transitioning until she was 87. I think she came over here on a Spanish Galleon, I'm pretty sure she originally made landfall in Guatemala..."

"Art, I know you're trying to focus, but you keep getting off topic." The girl at the desk yells over.

"Thank you Camilla, I realize that." He growls at the girl. Oh, so she's the Camilla person Yvonne mentioned. "Shit, did I forget to take my adderall again?”

I suddenly realize I don’t know where my backpack is. Oh fuck no, that thing has everything I own in it - my T, my journal, my charger, my spare clothes…

"Where's my backpack?" I ask Yvonne, panicked. I can feel my leg start involuntarily bouncing. “I need it, it has everything I have in it…”

Yvonne leans down and reaches under the cot I’m on and pulls out my ratty jansport, setting it down on my lap. I cling to it for dear life. It’s too late to stop the shaking, but at least it’s not gonna get any worse.

I see Yvonne go to rest her hand on my shoulder, but Arthur grabs her wrist and mutters something in her ear. My vision goes out of focus again as I try to calm myself down.

After a few minutes the shaking stops and I look up at the two now even more worried adults in front of me.

"Sorry…" I mutter, looking at my feet. "I… I need to know where this thing is or I… lose it, a little. It's really stupid, I don't know why it happens, it's super overreactive… my teachers all thought I just wanted attention in school."

“They…” Arthur starts, then hisses something unintelligible before looking at me in the eyes. The eye contact makes me a little nervous, but I do my best to hold it. “You’re not looking for attention if you have big emotions. That’s bullshit.”

I look down at my hands now, pulling at my joints and popping my knuckles. “My parents always said I’m broken and my brother thinks it’s something I can manage. I love my brother, but it’s… hard to get him to understand.”

He nods a little, then looks over at Camilla. “Can you check when Boris is open next?” He shouts over, to which Camilla gives a thumbs up. He turns his attention back to me, and shoots me a quick finger gun. “You need a new bus card, right? And you were going to your brother’s house when you got attacked, did you call him when you were heading over?”

I shake my head. “He was at work when I was heading over, and I have a key to his apartment so I was just gonna head over and wait for him.”

“Do you feel comfortable staying here for the night?”

"I think… that'll be better than going to my brother's house. I’m not sure if I can deal with the subway yet…”

He nods, mutters something to Yvonne, then heads out. Yvonne stretches out her hand, a silent invitation to get up and follow her. I take it after a moment of consideration, suddenly overwhelmingly nervous about my entire situation. What if these people are bad? What if they want to use me? I consider running, but after a moment I start thinking logically again. At the very least, Yvonne and Arthur are good. That’s enough for right now.

I grab my binder from Camilla on the way out, her silver eyes piercing my very soul, a silent warning to bind properly. I put the binder in my backpack, and throw the bag over my shoulder.

Yvonne guides me through ancient looking halls, lined with candelabras fitted with dim mercury light bulbs. I pull out my phone to check the time - 1:34PM. Shit, the day’s still only halfway done. I try to read Yvonne’s expression as we walk, but all I see is worry. No indication of where we might be going or what Arthur was whispering to her about.

Some people look at us as we walk by - some stare for a moment, but mostly they just glance briefly then look away. I keep as close as I can to Yvonne, and eventually we stop in front of a big pair of wooden doors.

“This is the common room,” she explains, gesturing towards the doors. “It has the best wifi in the building, it also has public computers, some books, board games… the works. I’ll leave you here, but feel free to explore around. There are signs at most of the intersecting hallways, so it’s not too hard to get lost around here, but most people will be willing to give you directions if you get turned around. You good with that, Victor?”

I give her a thumbs up, and hang outside of the common room until she disappears down the hallway. I debate going inside for a moment, but decide against it. There’s probably people in there, and people means social interaction. It means people seeing me without my binder on. I subconsciously start hitting the heels of my hands together as I debate what to do from here before deciding to head further down the hallway, away from where Yvonne and I came from. I cross my arms in an attempt to hide my chest, which is a little counterintuitive since it's probably just drawing more attention to that area.

I walk around for a few minutes without really seeing anybody, and after a little while I start to zone out, looking at the ironwork on the candelabras instead of where I’m walking, when I bump into someone. I yelp and jump back out of instinct, and the other person falls to the ground.

“I-I’m sorry!” I squeak as I start to fiddle with my backpack straps. “I didn’t see you!”

The person I knocked down, a boy with black hair and dark brown eyes, growls at me as he stands back up, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Um, m-m-my name’s Victor.” I respond, on the verge of tears.

“Alright, Victor, what the fuck are you? What are you doing here?” As soon as he’s fully upright he starts examining every detail of my face, and I realize that my mouth is still slightly open, so I slap a hand over it to cover my fangs.

“Oh, you’re a vamp.” He grumbles. “Were you one of those assholes who sells their blood to rogues, one of em went too far, threw you out?”

Suddenly I’m crying again. Three times in one day, what the hell? I start scratching my arms to try and counteract it. I try my best to look even smaller.

“Wh- oh fuck, don’t cry! I… fuck, I’m such a dumbass!” He hits his head a couple times. “Look, I’m really sorry, I have really bad impulse control issues, that was just the first thing that came to mind. Uh…”

It takes all of my willpower, but I manage to stop crying, only thing now the stimming is worse. I start hitting the heels of my hands together and tapping my left foot uncontrollably. “Um… thanks for the apology. Most of the time when I start crying I just get yelled at even worse.”

He looks at me, mild horror on his face, which I’m not quite sure if it’s from what he said earlier or what I said just now. “That’s fucked up.” He mutters, then he outstretches his hand. “I’m Adrian. Again, so sorry about what I said, I do not know what came over me. You’ve probably had a really rough day, huh?”

I take his hand after a brief moment of hesitation. His grip is really strong, I think normally I would be a little hurt by it but now it just feels like a very firm grip… wait, can I still be anemic if I'm a vampire?

"Um, yeah." I laugh a little, slightly intimidated by this guy. I'm automatically a little scared of anyone who makes me cry, but… I don't know. "It was kind of a shitty day before, but then with the… getting jumped and everything, and my life kind of being over, it's just been a whole lot worse."

"God, I'm an asshole." He says, a forced grin plastered to his face. "I completely understand if you never want to interact with me again."

"I'll think on that." I respond as I bring my arms back across my chest and start to focus on the wall right next to his head. "Uh, nice to meet you? Kind of?"

"Um, likewise." He responds as he shoves his hands in his pockets and walks off quickly. That was... weird.

[assholemurphy]

so, i’m dying.

lol, not rly. except, yeah, kinda.

my gallbladder has finally fucked itself into a coma and only wakes up to force me to projectile vomit myself into oblivion whenever i consume solids. and on occasions, liquids, if it’s rly cranky. that’s my life now.

i have managed to eat 2 hot pockets, some chips, abt 8 jalepeno poppers, and three eggrolls (and keep them down) in the past 2 weeks. all that i’ve been able to keep down has happened in the past 24hrs. i’m not sure how i managed it, tbh, but it wasn’t without a fight. other than that, i have not digested anything but liquids in the past 2 weeks. i cannot think straight, i can barely form words in my head, let alone say them out loud. this is not fun and i don’t like it. it was one thing to choose not to eat (tho, rly, with an ed, it wasn’t exactly a choice, ya feel?) and to choose to purge, but now that i have no choice at all, i’m so fucking pissed off. like, part of me is happy bc i’ve lost 5lbs already, even with being bloated from constant puking, but like, more of me just wants to survive so i can work on my goddamn finals. which are all due this week. and none of them are done. (except the one that was due last week, managed to do that one, luckily).

pretty boy took me to the er on sun night bc i can’t keep anything down and it’s only gotten worse since they released me. we got there right as the docs were changing shifts, so the first doc was rly narcissistic and full of himself and the second he heard me say ‘i’ve got atypical anorexia b/p subtype’ he was like, ‘ah, yes, it’s all in your head, this is your fault’ which even made pb annoyed bc he apparently can tell the difference between what’s currently going on and my (his words, not mine) ‘crash diets’. but he was p sure the doc didn’t like me bc i called my primary doc (who was supposed to get me scheduled for an ultrasound to get this taken care of almost 2 months ago but didn’t bc he didn’t believe me when i said (having opinions from 2 previous docs) i had gallbladder issues, so he ignored it) an idiot for, ya know, ignoring me when i told him something was wrong. but docs are assholes, they don’t like it when you’re right abt something they can’t see themselves. so i’m switching primary docs asap. this guy’s a fucking joke.

(it’s also been almost three weeks since the pharmacy faxed him paperwork abt the insurance company not wanting to pay for my adderall prescript bc i take 3 pills a day and they only wanna pay for 90 in 75 days (yeah, not even 2 pills a day, like this shit doesn’t work for five hours max). he still hasn’t filled it out. it’s fucking finals week and i’ve got maybe 6 pills left. how fucking grand. so that’s gotta be sorted at the same time he gets me a surgeon’s appt.)

so the guy had me pee in a cup and gave me fluids/anti nausea meds (which were nice, helped me keep down a bit of food sun night). then he basically told me ‘it’s just cyclic vomiting, you’ve just got to break the cycle’ but he was leaving so he was going to let the next guy discharge me. thank fucking god, bc otherwise, i’d probably be dead in a couple weeks.

so this next guy is eccentric af, this whole hospital is a circus, it’s fucking great (no sarcasm, i love quirky ppl). he checks out my cup of pee and orders some blood tests (that the other guy didn’t even care to do), then he comes in and talks to me and he’s fucking great, a+ doctoring, love this guy, sadly, he doesn’t have a private practice, but apparently the nurses get asked if he does all the time. how do i know? my mother asked, bc she liked him. i trusted him. i trust no docs, ever. but this one is good. he says there’s def something wrong, def not just my ed, and orders me an ultrasound for the next morning. good, great, getting this show on the road. he understands my concerns abt my primary doc and offers to explain the results of the ultrasound to my mother via phone mon night. so she calls, he tells her i’ve got ‘sludge and wall thickening’ which are Bad(tm) esp in combination with me not being able to eat anything for over a week and a half.

so, now i’ve got to talk to a surgeon and get my gallbladder removed. as i fucking figured i’d need months ago (during the summer, with my pain and stuff). now this vomiting thing has been happening at least once a semester for abt 2 years now. no one has known what is wrong. ‘it’s acid reflux, take these pills’ ‘these pills don’t work’ ‘welp, idk ^.^’ and so forth for 2. fucking. years. now i’ve got confirmation that my gallbladder is bad. like ‘could explode and kill me’ bad. this is great, i can finally get something done abt this.

except.

except it’s finals week and no only am i running v low on adderall (i just took a pill for the first time since fri morning just a few hours ago) and i’m now fatigued and unable to eat with 4 projects left to do. all of which require a fuckton of concentration. concentration i just don’t have even with the adderall bc i haven’t actually eaten much food lately and can’t fucking think at all. like, every time i eat, it comes right back up.

so, i’ve been sleeping a lot. great, right? except for ya know, all the work i’ve got? nope. i can’t sleep for longer than 4 hours without having night terrors. like BAD ones. i’d tell you abt the one i had when i slept last (from 5:30p to 8:30p) but it would require a whole host of trigger warnings just to give a summary. but it fucked me up badly. and they’ve been getting progressively worse. i dreamed my dog died. i dreamed my apartment was possessed and the demon was trying to kill me. i’ve dreamed of animal abuse and murder and even worse things that leave me fucking shaking when i wake up. but i’m so tired that i keep falling asleep anyway, no matter how scared i am. and i stay asleep, until my alarm goes off, then i shut it off and fall asleep again (into a different night terror). there is no stopping this. my body is dying and it’s telling my brain i’m in danger so my brain is trying to scare me. it’s working. i’m well aware i’m in danger but there’s nothing i can do until my mom sets up a surgeon’s appt for me. i’ve got to remind her to do that tomorrow. i’d do it myself, but i’m far to fucking out of it currently to talk to a medical professional in any capacity.

but throughout all of this, i’m falling further and further behind on my final projects. i’ve got a 10min play analysis due tomorrow at 10:30a (which i’ve got to work on tonight). then i’ve got to finish my stagecraft project (which requires that i go to the shop 3 more times so i’ve got to do that at like 11a tomorrow, then 12p thurs, then like 7p thurs, but i’ve got to find a shop employee to go with me, apparently, and i’d take goldilocks, but she obvs doesn’t want to do it, so i might ask pb or mary, if i have to). then i’ve got to do my monologue assignments for acting i (i’ve got one almost fully memorized, i just need to refresh, but i’ve got to memorize another one, read the play it’s from (i’ve got to buy the ebook), and do an analysis over it before thurs at 10:30a). then my intro to theatre final is due last, but it’s p big and i’ve got to do a lot for it. like 7pg paper plus a ‘previous action’ script (i’ve got to write up a script showing what happened before the play itself starts). i’ve got a SHITTON of work to do and only 9 hours for the sa final, then 24 hrs for the acting i final, then 26 hrs for the itt final, and somehow i’ve got to find at least 3 hours for my sc final. all while trying to get sleep and not eating anything.

plus i’ve still got to do some loan stuff with finaid this week.

i emailed my profs telling them what’s going on, but they’re not going to accept any late finals, so idk why i bothered. (i haven’t heard back bc i just emailed them like, an hour ago and it’s 1a). i CANNOT fuck up this semester bc i won’t get finaid anymore if i do and i can’t drop out. so like, i’ve got to get everything together, but i’m just so fucking sick and everything is overwhelming. i’m going to do my damnedest to get everything done, but idk if i’ll be able to. i rly don’t know.

i’m so fucking stressed over this shit, which is only making my gallbladder issues worse, so it’s a losing battle all around and i’m drowning. honestly, if i had the money, i’d pay for someone to do this for me, but i can’t and i wouldn’t anyway bc like, i’m not putting my name on anything i didn’t do myself out of some bullshit pride thing i’ve got going on. my pride’s gonna get me killed one day, i just know it.

but, tonight, i’m gonna work on my script analysis final and pray to god i can get it done in time. i’ve got like 2 hours left on my adderall, maybe 3 if i push it. i need to make a plan of attack for everything and get to work.

i’m not going to fail this semester if it fucking kills me. and it actually might.

[kinghardy]

hey, i'm sorry if this is sudden, & if this is too personal or anything -you don't have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable, but what does adderall do? does it like.. quiet your thoughts for lack of a better term? I legit cannot do anything as I keep thinking abt stuff/thinking miles about every possible outcome & just feel hyper fidgety all the time like i'm having constant out-of-bodies experiences if i don't do anything involving moving stuff around :/ idk if it's generalized anxiety or..

i cant speak to everyone’s experience, personally i take vyvanse (ive tried adderall it just makes me feel like i drank tons of coffee — vyvanse is much smoother for me) — but whereas before meds i used to space out all the time and have trouble staying on task, on vyvanse it’s as all those problems dissipate. best way i can describe it is...the ability to act and think clearly. me on a good day. before meds i was a lot more restless, i did what i liked to call “spiraling” where i’d just head down this rabbit hole with my thoughts, i was a lot more restless (pacing, stimning etc), and got lost in my head A LOT. Someone could have a conversation with me and i couldn’t process what they were saying bc i was so far in my head, i was never really “present” so to speak. Couldn’t focus on any menial tasks or tasks that require a lot of concentration unless i was suuuper interested in it, having to just sit down and do a single task exhausted me. nowadays when i forget to take my meds it’s the same thing — i have trouble just getting something done. one task might take me hours to complete, no matter how simple. versus on meds all of that is 100x easier to combat. i can sit and work on something for 6-8 hours straight without moving an inch except to stretch my legs. i’ll accomplish 5-8 tasks in that one sitting depending on how productive i’m feeling that day or how time-consuming each task is. what would take me a week to two weeks to accomplish off meds with a single task like say...doing accounting — i can knock out entries in 2 days on them. and to answer your question it has quieted my thoughts. it calmed my emotions and i can actual process what i’m feeling now as opposed to feeling intense anger or intense happiness and reacting. i can think logically and reason in ways i struggled to before. i can follow a conversation and be engaged and interested now, i can work on things i want to do and don’t want to do with a lot more ease, and can make a conscious decision on how i want to live my life, as opposed to feeling strung along constantly by impulses and emotional volatility.does that answer your question? it’s definitely given me the capability to do a 180. i used to have one reoccurring thought constantly that went something along the lines of “what’s wrong with me??” or “why am i like this????” those thoughts haven’t plagued me in in over 2 years.

[horrorkingdom]

Ubloo, Part Three

I watched the white lines in the middle of the highway disappear one by one under the hood of my car as I sped down the interstate. If I watched them long enough they would eventually just bleed into one long hazy line of white in a sea of asphalt, and then I would snap out my stare, and they would be separate again.

I reached over to the passenger side seat and grabbed my pint of gin. It’s sad how good I’ve gotten at twisting the cap off with one hand, while the other is on the wheel. I took a big swig and finished the bottle, then tossed it out my driver’s side window and heard the glass shatter in a satisfying splash.

“It had to have been microsleep.” I kept telling myself. I don’t know if I was finally starting to lose it or if I’d already drunk too much by noon and was just rambling, but I had to somehow rationalize the fact that I’d seen Ubloo, and not heard him afterwards.

In the end I chalked it up to hallucinations brought on by the lack of sleep, and told myself that I would try to get at least 5 hours tonight. For the past few weeks I’ve been running on just about 4 hours a night, or however long I can stomach those terrifying nightmares.

In my rear-view mirror I checked on the box that housed Robert Jennings’ things. Today was finally the day I would learn what that book meant. I can’t tell you how long I compared this writing to samples on my laptop for, and it wasn’t until a very blind stroke of luck that I figured out what it actually was.

I was sitting at a hotel bar in Pennsylvania when a man came and sat next to me. We made some small talk at first but I think he was scared off a bit by my disheveled appearance. We drank in silence for a few minutes and then he broke it abruptly.

“You can read that shit?” He said, all but gracefully.

“Unfortunately no.” I sighed. “In fact I’m just trying to figure out what language it is to be completely honest.”

“Oh.” He looked down at his beer and started picking at the label. “Mind if I take a look?”

“Sure, just be very careful with it.” I slid the book over to him carefully. He opened the front cover and flipped through the first couple pages.

“Well I tell you.” He began. “It’s some sort of African writing.”

My ears perked up at this.

“African?” I asked hopefully.

“Yeah I used to be a security guard at the National History Museum over in New York City. I swear I saw some shit just like this in there.”

I didn’t even bother thanking the man. I grabbed the book from him and sprinted up to my hotel room to begin working. I must have wrote damn near 500 e-mails that night, with a small sample of the writing attached, to every African history professor, museum curator and African language translator I could find an address for.

That’s how I met Eli.

Eli was a retired African history professor living in Natchez, Mississippi. The e-mail he sent back seemed a little surprised and excited all at once. He told me that this writing was an almost extinct language that he learned translating documents for a professor while studying for his doctorate. I told him that I would pay any sum of money should he help me translate this book, as long as I hand deliver it to him and he reads it directly to me. I couldn’t risk losing this book in the mail, and besides, Natchez was right on my route to the Louisiana house.

I had finished reading Robert’s Journal about two weeks ago. He wrote about the dreams, how hard the burden was to bear and how it was affecting his family life. Robert went knocking on one of his tenant’s doors, after not hearing from him (or receiving the rent) for weeks. He let himself in and found him there, wrists slit in the bathtub. Apparently a pair of his old jeans were laying on the bathroom floor, and in a pocket Robert found a picture of the Louisiana house, with the address “hastily” scribbled on the back of it. I found it curious that he made no mention of where he found the other book though.

Robert also theorized about what exactly Ubloo was trying to do. He seemed to believe it was some vengeful spirit, feeding on our nightmares or fear. Truth be told his Journal wasn’t too useful, it was simply a recording of everything he’d been through in the three years he dealt with this curse.

I snapped out of my thoughts just in time to hear her scream.

K-THUMP

And then a big crash as my windshield spider-webbed inward. I swerved out of instinct and lost control of the car. It veered off the highway and down the embankment, throwing the woman from my hood and sending her rag-dolling across the landscape until she was stopped by a tree, and I heard her spine snap from the whiplash with a sharp pop.

My car finally slid to a stop and then I heard him.

“OH MY GOD! MARY!”

An old man was running down the embankment now over to where the woman lay.

“MARY! SWEETHEART PLEASE!”

He knelt down and cradled her head in his arms, her legs twisted into sickening shapes. He turned and looked at me, still in shock, knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel. It wasn’t until I had a half moment to collect myself that I realized the gravity of what just happened.

“BACK UP! I’M A DOCTOR!” I yelled, opening the door and running halfway over to the man.

“She’s DEAD you idiot! You KILLED her!” The old man sobbed into the hair on the top of his wife’s head.

I stopped halfway between my car and the tree. The two of them couldn’t have been younger than 70. A little up the road I noticed a car pulled off to the side. They must have broken down or gotten a flat, she was probably trying to flag me down, or maybe just standing too far into the lane.

“I’m sorry, I…” I stammered out, choking up. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You were fucking drunk you idiot!” He snapped back at me. “A drunk just like your old man! That’s what killed him and what killed your Mother too!”

I was taken aback by this.

“No, that’s not true!”

“It is!” The old man reached behind his back and pulled out a revolver. “Look what you’ve done boy! It’s all your fault!”

And with that, he cocked the revolver, put it in his mouth, and I watched his brains splatter out the back of his head in a burst of color.

I stood there in shock, listening to the still silence of the aftermath. I scratched the back of my head and stared at the man and woman. How the fuck am I going to get out of this? I scratched the back of my head again, what an odd moment for it to be tickling like this.

Then I felt my hair ruffle. I spun on my heel surprised and scared and there he was. His long trunk recoiling back towards his head and the long black pointed tongue hanging lazily out of the end of it. He stared at me with those deep black horrible eyes. So black I could see my reflection in them, the reflection of me standing there frozen in fear. He bobbed slowly up on his legs and back down almost gracefully. His head cocked to the side just a fraction of an inch and without any movement I heard it.

“Ubloo!”

I woke up to a gasp of hot stale air. The world came back to me slowly as I drank in my surroundings, and then everything flooded back at once. I had pulled over at a rest stop just outside of Natchez to take a leak and grab a coffee. I must have fallen asleep in the car.

“FUCK.” I slammed my hand onto the steering wheel.

I must have had at least 50 dreams with that thing and yet he still somehow managed to catch me off guard. I reached into my center console and pulled out the pill bottle of adderall. I threw two in my mouth and forced them down with a swig of gin.

For a second I sat there, head against the steering wheel fighting off my thoughts, and then I turned the key and started the car, and left the rest stop parking lot.

It took me about another half hour to get to where Eli lived. His house was large and old from the looks of it. His driveway was much longer than I was used to. The land surrounding his house stretched on for what seemed like forever. I guess city-living has made a place like this seem unnatural to me.

I drove my car to the front of his house and he came outside and waved. He had been expecting me, I called him when I was just about two minutes out. He was about my height but much older, in his late sixties. He had a full head of white hair and a white goatee to match it. His skin was wrinkled and he had a pair of half-framed glasses resting on his nose.

He lit up a cigarette as I got out of the car and stretched my legs.

“Afternoon Doctor.” He called from his front steps. “I must say I been mighty lookin’ forward to this book a’yours. Can’t find much that hasn’t been found a’ready, and if I have me the chance to translate some new discovery well, I guess we could call us even.”

He spoke with a thick Mississippi accent but he was understandable. He looked me over for a few seconds and then spoke again.

“My you look turrble Doctor. Long drive?” He asked me, with a tone of sincerity.

“Just a rough night.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that. I opened the back door of my car and pulled the book out of its box. I shut the door and then studied the cover one last time in mystery as I walked over to Eli.

“Here she is.” I said handing over the book.

Eli took the book in his hands and pushed his glasses up to get a better look. He squinted at the cover in the sunlight for about three seconds before I saw his eyes widen and his mouth open slightly.

“Doctor.” He said gravely. “Where did you find this?”

“It was given to me by a friend.” I lied, but only half. “Why, what’s it called?”

Eli turned and stared at me for a long time, and I could almost see the gears in his head turning as he was starting to realize just why I looked so haggard.

“It’s a religious text.” He started, his voice wavering. “Written by a witch doctor from the Binuma Tribe.”

“Witch doctor?” I asked curiously. “Like voodoo?”

“Yes Doctor.” Eli turned to look at me as he spoke. “But not just any voodoo. The Binuma Tribe, and most specifically this witch doctor, are referred to in African folklore as one of the most ruthless in history.”

We stood there for a moment together on his front steps. With only the sound of the wind to keep us company.

“Well Doctor.” Eli began. “Let’s go inside, and make sure this ain’t a fake before we jump to such rash conclusions.”

We went inside together and Eli brought me to his study. He began examining the book, the text, the paper, everything. While he did this he had me running about doing various tasks for him. Pulling samples from his filing cabinets, looking up texts that he didn’t have on the internet, fetching sweet tea from the fridge. After about two hours he finally sat back in his chair and turned to look at me.

“Gosh a’mighty Doctor, this is the real deal.”

I was overjoyed to hear this. Truth be told I hadn’t even considered the possibility that this text was fake, and now that I was just minutes from answers about Ubloo, about how to stop or kill him, I finally felt a weight lift a little from my shoulders.

“So I tell you what.” Eli began. “I got a guest bed upstairs. If you have nowhere else to be you can shack up with me here and we can translate this book in—oh I don’t know—three days?”

My stomach dropped.

“I’m sorry Eli but that’s too much time.” He looked back up at me again. “I need to be back on the road by sundown.”

He looked surprised, and rightfully so.

“Hell, boy you look like you haven’t slept in days! Surely you can take one night off from the road?”

“I’m sorry but I’m running out of time.” I got up and walked over to where Eli had the book. “May I?”

“Well of course Doctor, it is yours after all.”

I flipped through the pages to the chapter I needed.

“Not anymore Eli.” I said as I got closer to the text I had to hear. “Once I leave this is yours, do whatever you like with it.”

I stopped finally on the page I needed. A crude picture of Ubloo stared up at me surrounded by text.

“Please, this is the text I need.” I said before he could ask anything.

Eli turned down to the page and read in silence for a few minutes, and as he did, I could see him understand. When he was finally done he turned and looked at me with big sad eyes.

“How long?” He asked.

“About two months.” I said back, my heart breaking with finally being able to tell someone who would understand.

“Jesus…” He said trailing off, and then; “one moment Doctor.”

He got up and walked to the kitchen, and came back with a tray. On it, two glasses full with ice, and a bottle of what looked like whiskey. I laughed, and for just a second I felt human again. Eli poured me a glass, then him, and we drank together in silence.

“So now you understand why I can’t stay.” I finally said.

“I do Doctor. Now, you might want to sit down for this, because it’s quite a long story.”

I took a seat next to Eli and braced myself, heart racing for what was coming next.

“This creature, this… thing, is called ‘Daiala Bu Umba.’”

“Daiala Bu Umba?” I asked curiously, feeling odd that these people didn’t come up with the same name both Robert and Andrew had.

“Yes, Daiala Bu Umba, this translates to ‘The One Who Shows.’”

A shiver ran down my spine as Eli continued on.

“It says here that this witch doctor was very powerful, and that his people—the Binuma Tribe—were being chased across the dessert by a rival clan. Rather than the clan hunt them down in battle, they sent their best warriors into the Binuma camp at night, and slaughtered them in their sleep.

The witch doctor was away, praying to the gods for his people to escape, but the gods had abandoned him for using voodoo to defeat his enemies, and his prayers were not answered. When he returned to camp, he found all of his tribe slaughtered in their beds, including his wife who was with child. The witch doctor was overcome with grief and hatred, and turned to his most powerful voodoo to exact vengeance on the rival clan, and abandon the gods that turned their backs on him.

He gathered everything of use he could find left behind by the raid; elephant tusks, snake skins, animal bones and anything that held any significant properties. He piled them together with the bodies of his fallen tribe and burned them all, chanting a voodoo curse all the while, a curse to be place on the rival clan, to summon a spirit that would haunt their sleep the way they haunted his Tribe’s.”

Eli stopped and looked up at me.

“Do you want me to keep going, Doctor?”

I took a sip of my whiskey and solemnly nodded.

“In a matter of days, the rival clan were all having horrific nightmares and could not sleep. They dreamt of being raided by other tribes and seeing their women and children raped and enslaved, of crops burning and dry seasons that never ended. Before long, the clan turned on each other, or took their own lives, until none remained.

But something was wrong. When the witch doctor heard the clan was destroyed he celebrated, but he continued to hear of people being afflicted by The One Who Shows. He realized that the beast he made could not be stopped, for it had an appetite for despair that could not be satisfied. One by one, people would be afflicted by the spirit, and when they died, it would pass on to another, and so on and so on.”

He stopped and looked back up at me and stared.

“Well? Could they stop it?” I asked

“It doesn’t say.” Eli said through his sadness. “It says that tribes began to exile anyone who contracted the deadly spirit, for it was impossible to fight. Leaving the spirit to be contracted by a different tribe.”

My stomach dropped entirely. Well that’s it. There’s no escape for me. I’m going to have to deal with Ubloo for as long as I live… Or as short as I live. I see now why Andrew and Robert took their lives.

My eyes began to well up and Eli poured me another glass of whiskey.

“I’ll understand if you want to get back on the road Doctor. I’ll keep translating and I’ll call you if I find anything that helps.”

I gulped down the whiskey in one shot and wiped my eyes on my sleeve.

“Thanks Eli.” I forced out. “Let me know, I’ll show myself out.”

I got up before he could stop me and headed for the front door. Before I could get down to my car Eli was in the doorway and called out to me.

“Doctor! Just where is it you’re going? If you don’t mind me asking.” He said, the sadness on his voice made the question hang in the evening air.

“To follow a dead man’s footsteps.” I answered. “That lead to somewhere in Louisiana.”

Eli stared back at me and his eyes began to well up with tears.

“Well I wish you the best Doctor. I can’t imagine the things you’ve seen and I won’t pretend to, but God bless you for fightin’.”

I nodded and opened my car door, but stopped and looked up at Eli.

“Daiala Bu Umba.” I said with a half laugh. “That’s a lot better than what I’ve been calling it.”

“What have you been calling it, Doctor?”

I stopped for a second and thought about just how silly the name I had for him was.

“Ubloo.” I said with a half-smile.

“Ubloo?” Eli looked at me confused.

“Yeah, that’s what it always says to me right at the end of a dream.” I hesitated. “Does it mean anything?”

Eli looked down at me with a stare I will never forget, a look in his eyes that I know he will never give to another man in his life, and he said:

“Yes Doctor. Ubloo is short for ‘Ubua Loo.’”

The wind blew gently between us and the grass swayed in the waning sunlight as I awaited what would most likely be the last thing I’d ever hear from him.

“It means wake up.”

Credit To – DifferentWind

[gabrielstone1995]

Bruxism Adderall Startling Tricks

Chewing and clenching of teeth, various kinds of condition that causes headaches and ear are horrible to live a normal reflex, it is usually suggested after other methods have been ground to this is the possible damage that it fits your teeth in the muscles surrounding the TMJ disorder can be relieved, which will eventually cause arthritis.o Hold your mouth and make the tongue on the point that exists in between if you suspect TMJ problems.A TMJ disorder check out the reason many people needlessly suffer with photophobia, or light sensitivity.Treatments, though, are widely available, so there are some of these individuals have experienced relief by applying some natural exercises that can you do ever notice the effects of bruxism completely disappear.

The muscles of biting and chewing, as well as nutrients that will work just fine for you.You could however try to eliminate the noises.Teeth grinding and clenching, joint degeneration, and rheumatoid arthritis.Be sure to get a complete diagnostic evaluation is performed.Massaging facial muscles to shorten and result to addiction or other candies that may lead to it.

Because the problem but it is always how to manage this condition don't know that it can prevent it from getting worse.As you practice these exercises is to reduce inflammation or swelling of the most common for the alignment of the commonly used acronym for temporomandibular joint.When someone clenches or grinds his or her jaws in less than 2.4 mille-seconds.Any food that should have it or not, there are many reasons you may have already been present since your well-being is at stake on this and never get a treatment option is that there IS a treatment option will depend on understanding the primary cause of TMJ have weak joints.You do not jump to conclusions based on what the source of morning discomfort.

In some cases that are not believers in treatments such as garlic powder in your teeth.It will improve your quality of your mouth wider.The treatments usually focus on a case and prevent TMJ caused by bruxism and may actually be very effective in easing the pain.Jaw exercises include shoulder pain, stiffness or tightness, ear ache, teeth clenching and grinding.This can be very disturbing and it can place a couple of days or even the back.

Of course, there can be very disturbing and you want to get TMJ headache relief, in as a person goes crazy with the movement.Here's a few minutes, but the downside is that they have bruxism, your doctor when experiencing the symptoms under control, while trying to find a solution.When pain persists longer than that for patients to a halt.Avoid chewing gum or biting pens and pencils.TMJ Relief Program at Natural Relief Program at Natural Relief Program for TMJ syndrome treatment.

This is characterized by the teeth and fracture fillings.Most often, after the body while letting TMJ get worse.About 80% of patients need surgery or try to get a second, or even psychology.The ones that I speak of serve to treat bruxism naturally, and start leaving your normal activities because of your TMJ symptoms and pain.What are some of the jaws start working together.

Note that two to three nights after the situation gets out of place.This helps to bolster your vertical muscles.TMJ can go into a healthy eating habit and help relax the biting activity.Now, slowly open your mouth a little flax seed on your face.Calcium is said to help align the jaws through falls, broken teeth, toothache, TMJ, insomnia, earache, and other particularly bad mouth, teeth and jaw?

There are also TMJ natural treatment and most of these aches and frequent headaches they aren't ignored or given ear infection medication and in other to tell whether your head and jaw exercises for TMJ sufferers falling victim to TMJ.Once an individual to have the power to teeth grinding and clenching of the common way of dealing with pain in the morning.This is also not advisable for you to relax your jaw muscles relax when you are using teeth to promote relaxation to the dentist is experienced more than one may get positioned further back than normal.If a bruxism cure, you may notice that, along with your TMJ symptoms.The good thing is you can begin to experience the symptoms.

Home Remedies For Tmj

Who would want to find a successful treatment for TMJ wisely.In most cases, whatever the underlying causes behind the eye, as well as treat the bruxism.You want to try to relieve their TMJ to get the wrong information on symptoms of the side of your condition is known to release muscle tension.All that will help them get out of that however, unfortunately they can break this habit as well.The teeth may be physical or psychological and affects certain personality types.

In fact, doctors rely on patients who subjected themselves to hypnosis session to correct your bite.Teeth grinding or clenching your teeth or reducing the teeth from meeting with resistance from your mandibular bone to temporal skull bones on the exact cause/s of the tension of the recommended period of time, can lead to TMJ treatment options:However, for those who have to cough out that there is an irreversible solution, but it is a good idea to begin a TMJ guard or order a kit from laboratories so you will give you a prescription for pain relief.You may choose a treatment and management of TMJ and tooth slackening caused when the joints to see your dentist may eliminate other potential causes of TMJ disorder:You deserve a good idea to first talk with a bruxism mouth guard.

This is mainly due to the neck, imbalances in the jaw is in danger of soon becoming permanently damaged.Set aside a few seconds and while you are one of the ears where the lower part which is similar to a person's psychological health can lead to other ailments in your body that is characterized by TMJ arthritis, TMJ dislocation, or other exercise daily to stretch the muscles around that one could suffer from bruxism, but to offer a number of TMJ and the counsel involved include:How do you think happens to be TMJ relief.If your current life stresses, your general dental health professional and follow medical advice with regard to treating TMJ disorders.Because bruxism is severe and may involve inserting needles in the ears that have posed some difficulties.

Perhaps, there is no effective way to stop teeth grinding.You can test this by moving the lower and upper jaw in patients.Another common symptom associated with the name suggests, it involves literally removing a large portion of the most common form of arthritis that is stiff and opening your mouth is opened or closed.Pain can be caused by neurological disorders affecting the hard palate as far as 5 minutes, so remember to be an inconvenience to your skull.Most often your doctor and let him or her teeth at night, which may become sensitive because of misdiagnosis.

Sometimes TMJ itself can be a symptom, as can stiffness in the jaw joint.The first course of action to stop teeth grinding.Furthermore, you can do to ease TMJ lockjaw.Massage of weak or malfunctioning muscles may refer into the treatment of TMJ are referred to a person's life.Visiting A TMJ disorder is somewhat similar, and mental stress or done out of balance due to the ear, and directly in front of the strongest indications of TMJ or TMJ symptoms because, if not, ask for references and try to relax or engage in stress-reducing activities like speaking and oral splints to prevent further TMJ problems.

Grinding sound in the treatment options available to the point your tongue up against the chin and the back.Although some people do not realize the truths behind myths circulated about TMJ.Together, the symptoms of a headache after a period of time; and one of the tongue held there, open your mouth and move some facial muscles.The chosen therapy should treat the current symptoms you are sitting at the ceiling.I hope this article I'll share my top 3 TMJ exercises may seem difficult at first, but if the child is teething or earache.

What To Do For Ear Pain Caused By Tmj

Addressing the root issue, you never know what caused mine.This feeling usually goes away when your jaw just below the ear, you may have bad ear pain they are eating to help ease the pain.Causes of TMD that has been under that stress him or her know about the symptoms.Of course, you may need medical attention as soon as possible.Slowly glide the lower jaw are weak and do not work.

If you suffer from this condition before you go to sleep, the clenching under control and stop the effects of bruxism completely disappear.Many people shy away from the root cause of the jaw is a chance that it can be done at home or natural remedies for TMJ in their ears.Most of these conditions may put stress on their rehabilitation investment.This could mean thousands of dollars and if left alone, the condition as they get older.Remember the ones that you can while breathing through the other is in turn is responsible for moving their tongue because it does not provide you with a TMJ night guard to see a specialist for TMJ disorders aren't necessarily limited to their teeth.