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6, 14, 19 & 49 for the ask game? :) (if you're doing it)
Yesss! Thanks for your ask, May! :D Ask game in question, in case anyone else wants to play!
6. Optimist, pessimist, realist, surrealist
Optimist by necessity, surrealist when I eat psilocybin mushrooms. When I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis at 29, my nurse's husband was also a nurse and he had MS. He was working in another ward but came and talked to me on his break. I avoided depression/mental health meds until then. He told me to look into how emotions affect our immune systems and that mental health meds were worth it if they helped prevent one single relapse. That conversation (and how I was diagnosed*) reframed how I looked at life. It could always be worse.
*at the first hospital, before being transferred, the neurologist told me I might have a brain infection or a tumor. At the better hospital, within 30 mins of being checked in the ER, they told me I had to wait for a neuro diagnosis but the ER radiology team was 99.9% sure it was MS. I went from thinking I might die and not see my kids grow up to realizing I had a life ahead of me, even if it was going to be difficult, and I will never forget that feeling of relief.
14. Are you a green thumb or do you kill your plant children
I TRY SO HARD, YALL, SO, SO HARD. I kill all my plant children. I am TRYING desperately to keep a tiny Norfolk Pine and a (mostly dead) pothos alive. Fingers crossed, just replanted both. I have an outdoor rose bush that has survived for several years now! I trim it back occasionally but right now it's a wild bramble with soft pink and hot pink blooms.
19. What is your least favorite color
I don't have one! I was going to say brown but then I thought about soil and tree bark and rocks and realized I dislike mud, not the color brown (plus brown and gold is a baller combo--looking at a painting project that has a brown and gold blended background and it's lovely).
49. Favorite urban legend
While I was born and raised in Lou, Ky, US until I was 11, I've spent most of my life in West Virginia, US, and I gotta go with the Mothman Legend. The statue is an hour and a half from me. My oldest has visited and left an offering of baked beans but I haven't--hoping to make it there this year with my other two kiddos!
#justsomeoneunordinary#bri answers#ask games#tumblr games#this was fun!!!#thank you may!!#i have repeated my ms diagnosis story a LOT so sorry if you have already heard it#but it was one of those life-defining experiences that reshaped e v e r y t h i n g#ultimately for the better#it led to the end of a terrible 12 year relationship#it taught me to take my mental health seriously and get on meds#it taught me to take each day as it comes and be very thankful for my physical abilities today because tomorrow they may be gone#ms sucks#but my diagnosis changed my life for the better in so many ways#so it comes up from time to time#(i was supportive of assisted suicide before my diagnosis but i'm an even stronger supporter now because i know i may end up in a position#where my quality of life no longer meets the minimum acceptable thresholds--and that's not depression/suicidal ideation talking)#(i could ramble about suicidal ideation as a coping mechanism when depressed but that's a whole other thing)
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actually, reblogging that post about not looking down on community college makes me want to talk about my experiences and career to show like look. you don't have to do what your high school guidance counselor said was best
at 19 (august birthday), i went straight from high school to a four year college. i did really well academically but my mental health was BAD and after two years admin insisted i leave to receive treatment. straight up would not let me be at school anymore (undiagnosed bipolar is a bitch)
at 21 i dropped out and worked for $7.25/hr at starbucks and also got mental health treatment (and meds!!!). at 22 i went back to school at community college part time and knocked out some gen eds (and also a couple classes just for fun, like theater)
at 24 i went to a different 4 year school. i changed my major (to psych), did three years there and graduated with an excellent gpa and extensive research experience (i busted my ass there, and since i took time off to get healthy, it went a lot better!). since i'd knocked out most of my gen eds, i got to concentrate on classes i cared about. my last year i was a part time student and worked as a paid research assistant more extensively, and did a honors thesis. i also taught myself the basics of programming my last year
i graduated at 26 and got my first programming and data science job (in fintech, blegh). it was terrible. my degree was largely unrelated and they didn't give me any training. they also expected constant unpaid overtime. i was just trying to hang in there and make enough to pay my rent. i actually was struggling so much i almost got fired. i had something of a nervous breakdown but stayed there long enough (18 months) to get a better job in the same field
at 28 i went back to the tech side of public mental health health (yay! and my degree is sorta relevant again). i worked for government. their tech stack was...less than corporate, and i was pretty bored. but i did really well there since i was overqualified! but they wouldn't promote me because i had the "wrong" degree :(
i was planning to leave that job because of no upward mobility when i was invited to apply for my current job, which is the head of data science for a public mental health lab at a public ivy university. they had heard of me from my boss's boss at my government job (networking!). i got that job just before i turned 30. my first year there was really stressful because of the neglect of my predecessor. i had another nervous breakdown. but this job was cool about my mental health and gave me a paid leave and i was able to fully recover and come back and thrive. i love what i do now and at 31, i'm getting a significant promotion from where i was when i started here!
the point of all of this is, i did a lot of things people think are "wrong". i took gap years, i dropped out, i changed my major, i went to community college, i had the "wrong" major, i had to take mental health leaves, etc etc. but i'm still successful and happy with my career! when i was working at starbucks and sleeping on a friend's air mattress i thought i'd be there forever. you never know what might happen in the future (good or bad).
if you can avoid having 3(!) nervous breakdowns in a decade that's better than i've done. but listen: i've failed. i've fucked up. i've been kicked out of school and almost fired and i've come back from it! i had to go on a mental health leave from my current job and they are still really happy with everything i've done there (now i'm just working on doing it in a way that's more sustainable). you don't have to be a perfect person to do well.
and seriously, community college saves a ton of $$$ and no one has ever cared i knocked out my gen eds there. you don't have to follow the "traditional" path, you just need to find something that works for you!
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WIP Wednesday
It is neither Wednesday nor anywhere near the date when I was tagged, but I was deep in Arlathan Exchange writing and was busy this past Wednesday. Thank you to @oxygenforthewicked and @crackinglamb for tagging me 💛💛💛
I'll tag (with no pressure to post on Wednesday or at all) @dreadfutures, @rosella-writes, @plisuu, @bluewren, and whoever else feels like participating. (Also I never know who to tag so apologies if I keep tagging you over and over gahajsjqhafa)
This not-Wednesday wip is a little solavellan kid fic thing I found in my notes app lol. It's from my modern Thedas with magic au (which is honestly more magic-tech than truly modern but there's still like TVs and stuff), and probably takes place sometime shortly after Athdhea, Dawn.
CW for postpartum health/ postpartum mental health talk and like, general baby talk.
"You don't think it's weird?" Eira said.
"I mean." Shara shrugged. "It's a little weird. So what?"
Eira felt like a mess of a creature. She was exhausted and hormonal and even as her body healed it seemed to find new ways to betray her.
Eira frowned and tapped her fingers on the table. Their lunch hadn't even arrived yet and already she felt antsy. She knew there was no logical reason to be antsy. Her baby was well taken care of and safe, and Eira didn't even plan on being away for long. Her family had stayed with them to help with the baby for weeks and weeks, and had taught Solas all they knew during that time. He was careful and devoted. He would be fine, she knew, by himself. In fact, he'd encouraged her to take some much needed time for herself away from the house and the baby. Yet she couldn't quite quell the little seed of worry and guilt that had rooted in her brain. "I actually think it's kind of cool. Like: here's the Lord of Nightmares and his....adorable little baby! That's cute! That's fun!" "He hates that title," Eira sighed. "Never say it in front of him if you don't want a lecture. Should I check in? He'd call if something -- " "It's been an hour," Shara said. "He's taken care of her for more than an hour before." "Yes, but I was in the house, still." Eira rubbed at her temple. "I know. I'm being neurotic, I know." "Eira," Shara said, her tone serious. "I've seen him take care of her. That man is so careful you'd think he was handling a bomb." "I know." Eira took a sip of water and watched the waitress set down their order. Shara thanked her with a polite smile. "Do you think we've doomed her to a lifetime of that? Being the daughter of the 'Lord of Nightmares'?" She made a face as she said it.
Shara looked at her. She reached across the table, over the food, and put her hand on Eira’s. "Don't do that to yourself. Seriously. Don't."
She thought of Solas, also exhausted, hurrying about their little house, changing diapers and making bottles and cleaning messes, humming old lullabies under his breath. For some reason the image was comforting.
"Nothing will happen," she said aloud, as if that made it more true. "If something was wrong he would call me right away. But nothing is wrong, because Adhlea is healthy and he is a good father."
"That's the spirit," Shara said. "Now eat." "I feel like my brain's been fried," Eira said darkly, taking a bite of her sandwich. It was delicious. Much better than the leftovers and hastily cooked meals she'd been persisting on. Better than the takeout, too, because she was eating it fresh, on a plate, at a table, and not in her underwear on the couch with a crying baby nearby. "I mean, it kind of has." Shara shrugged. "But it'll get better. I promise." "You're not a mom." "Sure," Shara said offhandedly. "But aunt Faya said all the same stuff you're saying, and she felt better later, too. And if it gets worse, or gets bad, or it doesn't get better, you can do what Midha did." Eira had no memory of what Midha did. She blinked. "She got some meds and it was okay. And we found her a nice Dalish therapist." "You sound like a commercial." "I was trying to be reassuring." "And I appreciate it," Eira said. "Do you think he was really confused by commercials when he woke up here? Like there's no way advertising existed thousands of years ago, right?" Eira tried and failed to hide a smile. "Do you just ask me all the terrible questions that you're too afraid to ask him?" "Not afraid," Shara said. "He's not scary. But like you said, he'll lecture. Or try to like, trap me in a philosophical debate." "Oh, he thrives on that."
#solavellan#kid fic#solavellan fic#modern au#modern thedas#cw motherhood#cw babies#cw postpartum health
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ADHD & Me
I was diagnosed with ADHD in 8th grade after a teacher realized I was depressed and had the school counselor talk to me, and the school counselor feeling like I needed to be seeing a therapist rather than just talking to him at school. It was basically the depression at that time that they had picked up on, but it eventually resulted in me getting evaluated by a psychiatrist and ADHD was among the things I was diagnosed with.
I was pretty seriously depressed, cutting myself, I was diagnosed with PTSD, and had bad anxiety although I didn't really recognize it as anxiety at the time. It's almost like the depression numbed out the anxiety.
Anyway. My psychiatrist and therapist seemed to focus a lot more on my mental health issues than the ADHD. That makes sense to me, my mental health was in a really ugly place and really needed to be a top priority.
But, I really wasn't taught much of anything about my ADHD. Despite only being 13 at the time, I thought I knew what ADHD was...I knew multiple people who were diagnosed with ADHD. I knew what traits they associated with their ADHD and saw the similarities in those kids. They often seemed hyper, they were disruptive in class, they were always "on the go", they were often loud. I didn't share most of those similarities, so I didn't think ADHD was me.
In 4th grade, I was assigned a seat up against the whiteboard next to a kid who had ADHD. Just my desk and his, while all the other kids' desks were in pods of 4 and were several feet back from the whiteboard. That kid had to be separated from most other students to avoid being distracted by them or distracting them, yet it wasn't seen as acceptable to make him be alone...so the teacher picked a kid who would be the least likely to distract him, I guess. And that was me. So...how could I be ADHD, I thought. Also, I was put on ADHD meds that seemed to make my anxiety a lot worse, but my psychiatrist wasn't good at listening to me about my own experience - so she thought I should stay on them. I just quit taking them as they were clearly hurting more than they were helping. I tried again several years later, but again found myself feeling extra anxious while on them, and the therapist I saw at that time (for all of like...3 visits) said that people with anxiety often can't be on ADHD meds, so if I felt anxiety was the bigger issue, I just shouldn't be on ADHD meds. So, I thought my options were no ADHD meds, or anxiety and I quit trying ADHD meds for years. Ps - that guy was wrong, lots of people have ADHD and anxiety and can find meds that don't make their anxiety worse.
As I got a little older I read about how anxiety and/or depression can make it harder to stay focused. I thought maybe I was just misdiagnosed as having ADHD because of my mental health issues impacting my focus? People had called me 'spacey' and 'air headed' a lot although I had never really felt that way myself. I always felt like when people said "hellooo..." or similar to get my attention that they were implying that I was not thinking of anything. And I was always focused on something, I wasn't sitting there with nothing on my mind. It just wasn't focused on them. My mom had also said that she thought ADD made more sense for me. And I was diagnosed with ADHD inattentive type, which *is* essentially what ADD used to be, and I knew that. But I thought ADD meant that you just sit around thinking of nothing. And I knew people perceived me as being 'air headed' in that way. But I knew I wasn't. So that didn't add up to me.
So...from 13 to 30, I really wasn't sure if I thought I had ADHD or not. I had started getting ADHD tiktoks which I could relate to a little more, and that made me think maybe the diagnosis was correct, but I still felt really uncertain.
A little over a year ago, I restarted therapy for the first time since I was 17 or so. At the intake appointment, I was asked if I had ever been diagnosed with anything, and if so what. So I shared with her my previous diagnosis' and she asked me if I felt these diagnosis' were still accurate for me. I told her that I didn't think I had depression anymore, and that I was always unsure about ADHD.
I never really intended to learn about ADHD via therapy, but my therapist is well versed in ADHD and occasionally suggested that some of what I was talking about was ADHD related. Things I had never heard of being associated with ADHD before. Things like...
Being unable to tell stories that go from start to finish in a simple chronological order verbally. I can sort of do this in writing thanks to editing, but it's not very instinctual for me. I am a "webbed thinker" and "bottom up thinker" rather than a linear thinker. I'm all about side tangents and extra details. I see patterns or connections in things that don't always make sense to other people. I get 'off track' all the time. My siblings used to say things to me like "Get to the pointttttt" but I couldn't just take that short-cut. I only knew the long way around when talking out loud.
Struggling to find the word I'm wanting to use.
Memory issues. I was the kid who would do their homework but forget to turn it in. Or I'd turn it in, but I'd forget to put my name on it. If an adult told me 3 things they wanted me to do, I'd do 1 or 2 and totally forget the rest. I was the kid who always left their snowpants or hat/gloves at school. I was labeled as irresponsible and careless, but I was desperate to please the adults in my life as a kid. I knew adults thought I wasn't trying hard enough, but I thought I was trying really hard. It was just confusing, I never had an explanation for that discrepancy.
Losing my train of thought mid-story or sentence.
Regularly screwing up dinner because I am trying to flip the grilled cheese or stir the dish or whatever, at a set pace, and I regularly lose track of time because I get invested in a conversation, go to text someone back, nearly any little thing that grabs my attention for "just a second" can suddenly make me lose track of time. And I don't mean that I get so invested in the new thing I start doing that I forget I was cooking until I smell it burning. Although, that happens too. More often, it's that I feel so sure it's only been about 2 minutes since I last stirred the pot, so i'm shocked that everything is stuck to the bottom now. How/why did it suddenly start cooking so fast? It's almost as if someone cranked the heat on the burner up, except that didn't happen. This kinda thing genuinely felt like a mystery to me. How/why did it suddenly cook so fast? Until I realized this is time blindness. When I get interested in something, I lose my sense of time. So while I would have bet $100 it's only been 2 minutes since I last stirred this pot, it's probably been 10.
Hyperfocus. Despite the name, ADHD isn't always a deficit of attention, it's more of an attention/focus regulating disorder. That might mean we can't stay focused on the thing we want to focus on, but it can also mean that we get SO focused that we struggle to switch to something new. *this* is the core reason why people call me spacey or air-headed. They come in and start talking to me, and I say 'huh?" and they think this means I am an air head. In reality, I Was so focused on what I Was doing or thinking that I couldn't process what they said until I gave myself time to switch my focus on to what they were saying. Lots of people experience this when invested in a dramatic scene in a movie or video game. I do this constantly. I'm sending a friend a text, doing the dishes and thinking about what to make for dinner, I'm playing with my cat - ti doesn't really matter. It doesn't have to be something exciting for me to be deeply locked into my own thoughts and need time to switch my focus.
Sensory issues including auditory processing issues. I remember having wet sleeves on my shirts in elementary school because I'd bite/suck on them so much. Or when I didn't have long sleeves, I'd suck on my hair. Shockingly, I wasn't bullied for this somehow. As I got a little older I became a pencil/pen cap chewer until a kid expressed disgust at it. I've always repositioned myself in my chairs a lot. I'm a picky eater and a lot of that is sensory related. I have auditory processing issues. While not directly ADHD, lots of people with ADHD have sensory processing disorder, and auditory processing disorder specifically.
My over-reaction to feeling judged has various causes, but part of it is rejection sensitive dysphoria, a common element of ADHD. I had read about rejection sensitivity before, but I thought it meant being actually rejected as in...shunned? My therapist explained that 'rejection' doesn't have to be nearly that extreme, that feeling judged is a mild form of feeling rejected, so having a big reaction to feeling - or even anticipating, being judged causing a really big emotional response can be rejection sensitive dysphoria.
Hyperfixations. Somehow, I totally didn't realize that most other people don't discover some new 'thing' and then feel like that thing is nearly all they want to do, think about or talk about for weeks. I guess I just thought it was normal to get really exciting about discovering something new that you liked. And I think it is...but I didn't realize that the degree to which I get fixated on a new interest is not the norm.
Clumsiness. I've always been clumsy, regularly running into things, dropping things, etc. I had no idea this was a sensory thing, which his why I'm not including it under the sensory bulletpoint even though this is a sensory thing. Proprioception is our sense that lets us know where our body is in space. If you struggle with processing propriception, it's common to be clumsy.
I no longer doubt my ADHD diagnosis at all. I'm so grateful that I found a therapist who understands ADHD well enough to help me to understand what it has looked like in me, even if it's different from how it looks for some others. There's some sadness with it as well, but overall, it's been such a relief to finally have a deeper understanding of some of my struggles. It's easier to empathize with myself for some of my struggles when I understand their causes. It's also helped me to get more help. I'm on meds that help a fair amount and don't make my anxiety worse, and just recognizing that I definitely do have ADHD has made it easier for me to accept accommodations, even ones that I make for myself.
For example, I have finally accepted that my memory is poor, and I struggle with time blindness. After I accepted that fully, I was able to start using 'tricks' like setting timers to remind me to stir the skillet meal I'm making every 2 minutes, so I can't lose track of time. Fully recognizing that my memory really does stink and it's not something I "should" be able to just force myself to somehow magically get better at, I use more to-do lists, use google notifications to email me about upcoming events, set alarms for more things, etc.
I know it's still a thing for parents to hesitate to get their kids diagnosed as they fear that a diagnosis will give them an 'excuse' to not try as hard. I've found the opposite to be true. I mean, I already had the diagnosis - but really having it confirmed? It hasn't given me a reason to not try as hard as I always have. Instead, it's given me "permission" to feel like it's really okay to utilize tools that will help me.
I don't mean to suggest that I needed a confirmed diagnosis to use the tools that help me. I absolutely should have always felt like I could do whatever I needed to do to be successful, diagnosis or not. But the reality is that until I really understood and accepted my ADHD diagnosis, I expected myself to be capable of functioning like a non-ADHD person, without these extra tricks or tools to help me. But I couldn't just force my memory to get better, for example. "trying harder" to remember wasn't a solution for me, but it's what I kept trying for years because I thought that's what 'should' work. Once I realized that wasn't the case, I was able to look for other tools or resources to assist me with remembering. Even with extra tools, my memory is still inferior to that of many others. I am not trying to function exactly like a neurotypical person would as I know that isn't realistic for me. But I'm able to find some ways to improve my functioning as much as I reasonably can.
Once you understand what your barriers are, they're easier to try to work around. I don't know why it's so common to think that not telling your kid they have a barrier - not telling them they have a diagnosis or symptoms of a condition, is so comonly believed to help them overcome the barrier. It doesn't make the barrier go away if you don't tell your kid it's there. It just makes them confused about why they keep running into a barrier that nobody else seems to believe is there.
Since I gained an understanding of my ADHD, I see the barrier, so I can try to build steps to help me climb over it now. In the past, I was just trying to believe the barrier wasn't there so I kept running into it head-on.
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so, quick disclaimer cause i dont want paula getting attacked for this:
none of the following is real. at least as far as im concerned. it is just a fictional characterisation of damiano, and i never want this to be damiano. dont take this too seriously, just enjoy the angst
warnings: suicide attempt (overd0se), clinical depression, suicidal intentions, fighting/yelling, hurt/comfort, self hate talk, a sprinkle of random psycology ive taught myself
so, lets just say that damia has clinical depression, inherited from his grandma that had dementia
it developed when he was 12, and hes lived with it ever since. with meds, therapy, healthy diets and excersise
må are on the end of (a) tour and the last thing they had to do was some interview
in that interview they all speak about their mental health, and he mentions for the first time his struggle with depression and how his career really enabled him to push through it a lot (giving a special thanks to the band and gio)
then on the ride home hes kinda out of it, he doesnt want to partake in conversation and he just huffs a lot
he ends up admitting he didnt like how he did at the audition and complaining about his mental health getting worse with the post-tour stress buildup
vic (equally stressed) kinda snaps at him and they have a really long fight about their feelings. victoria yells at him (in the heat of the moment) about how hes always self deprecating and bringing the others down, and she complains about damia stopping his therapy sessions cause now he always vents to the band, especially her
she just ends up telling him that she isnt "fully conviced youre actually sorry whenever you vent! you always shift the weight on us and then move on like you did nothing!"
of course, at the time, damiano just yelled back, something less strong cause he was kinda taken aback by vics words and they just hit a soft spot
cause damiano was always told to vent when he feels bad and he did it around the band cause he felt comfortable around them, and he always felt like he was burdening them with those stuffs even if they assured him elsewise and vic just proved everyone as liars by saying that
because of the stress and his mind not being clear he just takes it as granted and for the rest of the day (lets say theres like, 12 more hours till they need to start packing) he just bottles everything in and doesnt speak at all unless its to comment on something
vic takes it as him being petty and giving them the silent treatment so she doesnt call him out and stops ethan when he tries to
back at the hotel everyone is at their rooms (lets say they live in this hotel that has doors connecting the inside of the rooms, ive gone to one its chaotic and i loved it) and vic is talking to gio about how she feels bad and wants her to assure dami she didnt mean the things she said
giorgia and damiano call later in the night, and hes very casual about it
"hey, you feeling better?"
"kinda, got in a fight with vic"
"oh, that must be bad"
"maybe"
hes just sheltered off cause he thinks he is also burdening gio with his vents
she just reminds him to take the medication later and calls him an idiot (which makes him smile) and they hang up with "love u"s and stuff
damiano is really just not doing well after the fight and he loses all energy that normally filters logical thoughts from the illogical and then it starts
who knows how long ive been burdening them
god what an ass, relying on my friends for my happiness
im sure if it was up to them they wouldnt pick me as their friends anymore
god i am so stupid how does anyone like me
he gets teary eyed and his mind just fucking launches it to 200% (cause what is the brain for, if not making you feel worse when youre sad?)
everything that hes ever done slightly wrong just appears in his mind and he just keeps finding more and more things to hate about himself
he looks down at all his tattoos and sighs cause it was getting ridiculous and he was running out of ideas to tattoo on himself, desparate to stay clean of self harm, never wanting to fall down that hole
his legs carry him to the small bathroom of the hotel room and he just stares at his expression in the mirror until he fucking hates it so bad, he just wants to punch it
deep breaths arent working anymore and he clings onto the sink, trying not to pass out
hes so scared and so done with himself, his hand finds way to the antidepressants and he just opens the bottle, emptying a good chunk of them on his hand
he stares right into them and his eyes are getting blurry, his breathing hasnt calmed and he feels lightheaded as his back hits the wall tiles and he slides on the floor as his knees give out
his empty palm covers his mouth and silences his sobs when he felt like he was choking on them, his head hurt a lot and his throat stung a lot
he is about to just get it over with, he is good at dry swallowing pills so it would be a matter of seconds
then he hears a knock at the inbetween door and he freezes, head throbbing in pain and eyes redder than than crimson
vic suddenly starts speaking, her voice hoarse cause she was crying too
before shes even started talking damiano wants to shove the pills in his mouth, down his throat, get it over with and cause eveyone the least amount of pain, he already had his note typed out, to the groupchat that had leo and giorgia in it, as well as the band, he might as well get it over with, the pills will take a while to absorb
victoria starts talking again and the pills are a mere inch away from his face
she just apologises for being a jerk, for saying those things that were, in fact, not true, saying that she wasnt ever thinking of those and saying them was just an irrational act if anger
she admits shes fucked up cause obviously damiano was feeling bad and she didnt want to add to it
she said she saw how he was spacing out a lot and his eyes were hanging low, and she heard one of his sobs earlier and wanted to speak up and apologise
damianos hand itches to pour the pills in his mouth but suddenly hes frozen, in a lot of pain, and he cant stop hyperventilating, as if vics words had stopped his breathing for a bit
he feels the sobs in his throat and he can feel the way his knees and thighs are burning from how he sat, he suddenly was aware of what he was doing and he just loses it again
his hand has a viscious grip on those pills and the other just tugs at his hair hard to try and fix his brain, he just sends out a string of cusses and kicks the tiles across, only stopping when the pain became too much because he opened his leg ona sharp part of the sink pipe and blood was running everywhere
he was on the verge of his anxiety attack mixing with a panic attack and he feels immobilised as his body hurts all over and he just cant do anything and he wants to yell and scream and cry it all out, but he cant cause he is in a hotel bathroom, with his bandmates sleeping next door and a lot of strangers that wouldnt be too happy and he wants to just punch something so bad cause theres nowhere he can take the energy out on
vic after hearing no verbal reply assumes damiano doesnt want to talk to her, or hes moving in his sleep, so she almost goes to bed, but she hears a very small, frail and fragile "vic please", his voice cracking and he sounded like he was heavily crying so she just pulls the door back from her side and she sees him sitting down on the floor, curled up in a ball, clutching something in his hand as he shakes so much hes vibrating at this point, his back is rising and falling really quick and unevely and victoria knows the signs of a panic attack when she sees them
she tries to get him to calm down but he is very far into it and probably the cramped space he got himself into wasnt helping
she basically drags him out of the bathroom and damiano opens his palm and just says "take" and "might change mind" and she just scoops them in her own palm and into their bottle again befores shes sitting on the hard carpet with damiano, trying to match their breathing, but it doesnt work cause victoria's picks up when damiano's doesnt seem to even out and she just hugs him very tight and establishes a breathing pattern by pushing his back down with every exhale and pushing his chest away with every inhale
they are both crying on the floor there, but they are breathing properly and vic couldnt be more happy she spoke up
damiano just curls into her and just repats "im sorry" until his eyes are teary again and he starts trying to swallow his sobs
vic rubs his back and says "im sorry too", not wanting to cause more conflict
they hug it out until damiano has stopped crying a formally apologises, with victoria butting in and saying "if anything i should be incredible sorry"
damiano finally speaks to her about what happened and it takes everything in her to not start crying again, apologising about everything once more
she succeeds and she helps damiano lay down, take the appropriate dose of medication and some painkillers before hes passed out in the bed, his arms and thighs twitching from the stress
she just bandages the cut on his leg and leaves the inbetween door open just in case
she just lays down on her bed and she falls asleep just as easy
guilt is eating both of them the next morning and damiano doesnt want to say he almost attempted the previous night, and vic feels terrible for giving him fake insecurities and driving him almost mad
they have a talk later than ends in tears and hugs and she and damiano stick to each other for the day to break the awkwardness that grew from the previous night till that moment
after they make it back to rome she makes him promise he will tell giorgia and the others, and says that if he doesnt, she can
guilt is still floating in the air but vic is proud of herself and damiano and helps him speak out and after the initial shock everyone is glad to still have dami around them and make sure to remind him every chance they get.
* a real heartbreaker* but seriously, it's so well written, the details (i'm scared) and all, i'm proud of you sofi!
THERE'S 8272738383 TW YOU DON'T READ if you feel like it'll hurt you
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how i got an agent, or: my writing timeline
when i started writing, i had no idea how publishing worked and i had a lot of misconceptions about it. but i just signed my first literary agent so i thought i’d share what my experience has been getting to this point, in case it helps anyone else with their own publication goals. i’m also including financial details, like submission fees and income, because “i could never afford to pursue writing as a career” is something that kept me from taking the idea seriously.
for context, i write mostly literary fiction and i’m on the academic/scholarly writing path. this process looks a lot different for other genres.
i didn’t write this in my pretty nonfiction narrative voice; it’s really just the bare-bones facts of how it went down, how long it took, how many words i wrote (both fanfiction and original fiction), and how much it all cost.
background
2002 - 2005: read a fuckton of books, wrote some fiction, wanted to be a writer but knew it would never happen, journaled every moment of my life in intimate detail
2006: started working full-time (at a chinese restaurant) while still in high school, also started taking courses for college credit; no time to write, and forgot i had ever wanted to be a writer
2007: graduated high school, started college (psych major), still worked at the restaurant, moved out of my parents’ house into an apartment with my boyfriend; my dad got diagnosed with stage 3 colon cancer
2008: continued college full-time, quit the restaurant and started part-time as a bank teller, broke up with bf and moved in with a friend at an apartment where the rent was obscenely high; had to pick up a second job altering bridal gowns
2009: continued college full-time, started dating someone else, moved in with him, had to support him, took a third job as an admin assistant
2010: continued college full-time, still had 3 jobs; my dad’s cancer became terminal
2011: my dad passed away; i graduated college with a 3.9 and $31k of debt; quit 2 of 3 jobs; got promoted at the bank; my bf cheated on me and we broke up; moved back in with my mom
2012: a very dark time; also, bought a house (because where i’m from, it’s cheaper to buy than rent)
2013: discovered fandom
2014, age 24
this is the year i started writing and posting fanfic. prior to that i was a compulsive journaler but had no drive or desire to become a writer, despite how much i had written when i was a teenager. it seemed like a very childish dream. at this point i assumed writing was just a phase like all my other hobbies i’d picked up and set down.
but fandom proved to be really healthy for me, and i made some good friends who encouraged my writing and made me want to be better at it. i was really not very good at writing. i don’t think i had any natural creative talent whatsoever, or even a particularly vivid imagination. the only thing i had going for me was the ability to put thoughts into words after a decade of obsessive journaling.
i started writing in spring, and by the end of the year my total word count was 311k. i was making a decent income at the bank, insofar as my bills were covered and i had health insurance. i still had a significant amount of credit card debt from college that i was trying to pay down, and which was eating up all my extra income.
2015, age 25
i continued writing through 2015 and went to visit @aeriallon, whom i’d met in fandom and who told me i should consider applying to MFAs. i was miserable at the bank and knew i wanted to go back to school, but i didn’t think there was a chance in hell a grad program would accept me, since my writing wasn’t very good and i hadn’t so much as taken a single english class in undergrad. she told me to just look around and do a few google searches to see what i found.
when i started searching, i assumed i would probably be more compelled toward an MEd or MSW programs and go the therapy route, which is what the plan had been in undergrad before my dad died and my life got derailed. i never wanted to be a banker, but i’d got a promotion into commercial finance that paid decently, so i took it and told myself i’d work for a year before going back to school. but then i kept getting promoted and one year became many.
i ended up being more drawn to creative writing MFA programs because they seemed to want people with weird backgrounds like mine. also the classes sounded fun and the programs were funded. i didn’t know how i would be able to afford my mortgage payment or sell my house on a fraction of the income i was making at the bank, but i figured i’d apply and see what happened.
it took 6 months to get a writing sample ready to apply to MFAs. it was the only ofic story i’d written as an adult, and in retrospect i had no idea what i was doing because at that point i didn’t read literary short fiction. but i got the sample as good as i could get it and completed my applications. i applied to 6 schools and got accepted into 1.
in 2015 i wrote 250k. i can’t find my application spreadsheet from that year, but i probably spent between $300 and $400 on application fees. early in the year, i had finally managed to pay off my credit card debt and save a little bit of money.
2016, age 26
the school i got into was within driving distance of my house, so i didn’t bother moving. i tried to quit the bank but my boss convinced me to stay on 2 days a week working from home. i agreed to it, because my grad stipend wasn’t enough to cover my bills, and i was counting on what little savings i had accrued to get me through the program. i still had no drive or interest to publish. i mostly just wanted to go back to school so i could learn how to be better at this thing i really enjoyed doing.
in the MFA, as you might imagine, i had to read a lot of stuff and write a lot of stuff, and was encouraged to begin submitting some of the short stories i wrote for workshop. i was not particularly into the idea, considering it seemed like a lot of work for little reward, and also i didn’t think my stories were very good.
i also started teaching english comp. i hated it and decided that after the MFA, i never wanted to do it again. haha. hahahahahaha
in 2016 i wrote 343k. i didn’t apply/submit in 2016 so i didn’t pay any fees, but my grad stipend was $14k for the academic year, plus the income i was making at the bank.
2017, age 27
i did a complete 180 and decided i loved teaching more than anything else in the entire world, and i was willing to do whatever it took to become a teacher. i realized that to become a teacher, i needed to publish. begrudgingly i started submitting to literary journals. i also applied to summer workshops and got into tin house, which i highly recommend if that’s something you’re interested in. at tin house i met my dream agent, who seemed really interested in my work and encouraged me to query her as soon as i had a book done.
a lot of personal drama happened that year. i was still working at the bank in addition to teaching a 2/2 and taking a full course load. in summer i had a long overdue mental breakdown.
2017 was a rough year. i wrote 149k. this is the year i started keeping a dedicated expenses spreadsheet. i spent $174 in submission fees. tin house tuition with room and board was a little over $1500 + travel. i thought it was worth it because i met the agent i thought i would later sign, but that didn’t pan out. (i made some great friends though!!) tin house was definitely an unwise financial decision; i paid for it out of what little i managed to save in 2015.
2018, age 28
early in 2018, i went from teaching comp/rhet to creative writing, which only cemented my desire to teach writing as a career. i realized i was far better at teaching writing than writing, but i knew i had to keep writing to keep teaching (shocked pikachu.jpg), so i kept submitting to journals. i got my first story accepted. i didn’t receive any payment for that publication. i quit the bank early in the year (finally! after 10 years!) and was terrified about money, in part because my student loan payments were coming out of deferment and i was still paying off my hospital bills from my breakdown.
in spring semester, i won a few departmental awards (totaling $500ish) and got a second story accepted (again, no payment). i also got accepted to another workshop which i will not name because i hated it. i graduated in may and defended my thesis in july. the thesis would later become my short story collection, zucchini.
in fall, i stayed on at my school as an adjunct, and started writing training wheels which would later become an original novel called baby.
i wrote 450k in 2018. i paid $373 in submission fees. i was also nominated for an award for one of my publications but didn’t win. the workshop i went to was like $4000 with room and board (it was a month-long workshop). i got 75% of it covered with scholarships and i paid for the rest of it out of my savings, and even though i’d intended to drive there, my mom ended up buying me a plane ticket. again, i met a lot of big-wig writers i thought for sure would help me get an agent. i told myself i was networking, and that publication was all about Who You Knew. but that turned out not to be true for me.
as an adjunct i made $3200 per course, and i taught 3 classes in fall. in winter, i got my shit together and started applying for creative writing PhDs, mostly to convince my family i was doing something with my life, with no expectation that i would get in. in winter i applied to 2 schools. with application fees and the GRE, i ended up paying well over $500.
2019, age 29
in spring semester, i taught 2 classes while i revised training wheels into baby. when i had a completed manuscript, i finally pulled the plug and used all my networking contacts to get my dream agent i’d met at tin house. i queried her, and a very popular and well-regarded author i’d met at the other workshop emailed her on my behalf to tell her good things about me. i thought for sure i had it in the bag. this author also touched base with a few other agents whom he thought would like my work.
i didn’t hear back from any of them. not even a “no thanks.” i set down querying for a while.
i got a third story picked up and published around this time, and i was paid $25 for it. they also nominated me for an award, and i don’t think i won? but i can’t find out who did win so idk.
my grandpa passed away and i decided to sell my house and move in with my grandma so she wouldn’t be alone. i got rejected from both PhD programs i applied to and decided to get a “real job” instead, and began applying for random positions that offered health insurance, because i knew i was drastically undermedicated and it was becoming a Problem.
near the end of spring semester, i moved out of my house, put it on the market, and was interviewing for a community development manager position for a nonprofit. at the same time, i found out about another university that was taking late-season applications, and i applied. five days later, i got accepted. one day after that, i got a job offer for the nonprofit. since i had no idea how long it would take for my house to sell, and being unable to afford both rent in a new city and my mortgage payment, i deferred my PhD acceptance for a year and decided to work at the nonprofit for a while. the risk was that i could only defer my admission, not my funding, so there was a chance that the following year i wouldn’t get the same funding package.
i lasted one month at the “real job” before i had another breakdown and ended up quitting.
my house sold for well under the asking price and i received only $4000 in equity once it was all said and done. that’s a lot of money to me, but considering that i’d been paying on the house for 7 years, i was expecting a lot more.
i had a year to kill until the PhD so i decided to take a break from teaching and apply to artist residencies instead. i applied to 8 residencies and got accepted into 4, but only ended up attending 3, because the 4th was outrageously priced and there was no indication of the cost when i had applied.
in winter i picked up querying agents again. i queried 10 agents every other week. i also got a ghostwriting gig writing children’s books that paid $800 a month.
in 2019 i wrote 417k. i spent $441 in submission fees (to residencies and contests, not agent queries. never pay money to query an agent!!). i ended up teaching 3 classes fall semester.
2020, age 30
i started out the year driving across the country going to residencies. the first cost $100 (no food), the second cost $250 (A LOT OF VERY GOOD FOOD), and the third paid me $500. i was at the third when the pandemic hit.
the query rejections started rolling in. i gave up in february after 60 queries. of those 60, i received 7 manuscript requests for baby, but the consensus was that it was too long and plotless (you got me there.jpg). at the second residency completed and revised zucchini and decided to begin querying with that instead. i could only find a few agents who accepted collections so i only queried 16. i got one request for the manuscript but then didn’t hear back. i gave up in april shortly after the pandemic hit.
when i figured the collection, like the novel, just wasn’t publishable, i started submitting to contests which is the more standard route for the genre. i submitted to 12 in total and was a finalist in 1. i was rejected or withdrew from the rest.
the PhD program reached out to ask if i was still interested in starting in fall, and i said i was, so they put me in the running for funding again and i was accepted. the stipend was $17k per academic year.
like most of us, i got totally derailed in spring and stopped doing basically everything. the ghostwriting gig started paying $1500 a month and i also started my creative coaching business, which slowly but surely began to supplement my income. i also received the $1200 stimulus.
when school started, i quit the ghostwriting gig. i had no intention to continue querying either book, but i saw a twitter pitch event called DVpit (diverse voices) and decided to participate. for those who don’t know, a twitter pitch event is where you tweet the pitch for your book and use the hashtag, and agents scroll through the tag and like tweets. if an agent likes your tweet, you query them.
i got one like, so i followed up with the query. the agent asked for the full MS and a couple weeks later followed up with the offer for representation. we talked on the phone, she sent me the contract, i asked for a couple changes, and then signed!
so far this year i’ve written 375k and paid $518 in submission fees. i’ll give more details when i do my end of year roundup next month. oh, and i finally paid off my student loans.
totals
word count: 2.3 million
agent queries: 77
agent MS requests: 9
agent rejections: 28
agent no responses: 44
short story submissions: 86
short story acceptances: 3
short story income: $25
total submission/application fees: $1472
my (final) query letter
honestly this query letter probably isn’t very good which is why i got such a minimal response, but it got the job done eventually.
Thank you for expressing interest in ZUCCHINI through this year's DVpit event.
ZUCCHINI is a collection that views sex through an asexual lens. It poses inquiries into constructs like gender, sexuality, and love to dissect the patriarchal/puritanical foundations from which our social perspectives often derive. Being a collection about asexuality, each story portrays a relationship that develops from forms of attraction other than physical.
In one story, a grieving widow purchases her first sex toy; in another, a woman uses sex to cope with the death of her abusive father, and later in the collection faces the long road to recovery; an administrative assistant seeks out a codependent relationship with her boss; a masochist hires a professional sadist to lead him toward self-actualization; a woman begins to recover from her sexual assault by staging a reenactment on her own terms; and lastly, two lifelong friends in a queerplatonic relationship decide to get married. Asexuality is an under-acknowledged identity within the LGBTQIA community and is often misunderstood. In seven stories, ZUCCHINI dissects the notion of attraction, explores the intersections of sexual identity and trauma recovery, and conveys the experience of intimacy without physical desire.
Three stories in the collection have been published in literary magazines. “Lien” appeared in volume 24 of Quarter After Eight and was nominated for the PEN/Robert J. Dau Short Story Prize for Emerging Writers. “An Informed Purchase” appeared in the summer 2018 issue of Midwestern Gothic and won the Jordan-Goodman Prize in Fiction. “The Ashtray” appeared in issue 16 of Rivet Journal and has been nominated for a 2020 Pushcart Prize.
Complete at 53,000 words, ZUCCHINI is a collection in conversation with Carmen Maria Machado’s HER BODY AND OTHER PARTIES, Lauren Groff’s FLORIDA, and Samantha Hunt’s THE DARK DARK.
If ZUCCHINI is of interest to you, I would be happy to send you the manuscript. Per your guidelines, I've appended the first twenty pages below, which is the entirety of the first story.
what comes next
i’m going to spend january revising the collection per my agent’s feedback. when i send it back to her, she’ll shoot it out to the first round of publishers. my understanding is that the goal is to get multiple offers on it so that it has to go to auction. if there are no offers, she’ll do another round of submissions, and so on, until we’ve exhausted our options. if that happens, we’ll reassess, but by then hopefully i’ll have another novel finished.
meanwhile, i’ll be continuing the PhD which entails teaching a 2/2, workshop, and 2 lit seminars per semester. i’m also still doing my creative coaching, writing fanfic, and working on my original projects. in summer, i’ll finally be moving to hopefully start going to school in person next fall.
the PhD is a 3 year program with an optional fourth year. i don’t see myself finishing in 3 years so i do plan to take the extra year unless something comes up. after the PhD, i’m not sure what i’ll do. a lot will probably change by then so i’m trying not to commit to one idea. i might apply to post-doc fellowships and tenure track positions, or i might leave the country and teach overseas, or i might move to LA and try to get in a writer’s room somewhere. i’ve got a lot of options.
overall thoughts/stuff i learned
first of all, you don’t have to go through all of this to publish a book. you could feasibly just write a book and query agents. the only reason it took me this long is because my PTSD brain was sabotaging me every step of the way and i didn’t start taking anything seriously until i found something i was willing to fight for (teaching). i went the MFA/literary route but other, faster routes are just as good. maybe better. probably better. actually if there’s any chance you can go a different route, you should take it.
reflecting on all of this, very little of it has anything to do with talent or being a good writer. nor does it have to do with being at the right place at the right time. i’ve only made it this far because i took very small steps over and over again, and during that walk met people who could help me -- the authors who have mentored me, the editors who accepted my stories, the agent who signed me. and as i got further along my path, i started being able to help other writers in the way i was helped.
i don’t believe i’ll ever be a great writer. the best thing i can say about my writing is that it’s competent and accessible. everything i write sets out to do something and most of the time it gets the job done. i don’t imagine i’ll ever be able to financially support myself with publishing, and i’ll certainly never be famous or well-known, but i’m good enough to keep making progress. i’ll probably continue to find opportunities that are adjacent to writing and that will keep me afloat, pending my health and provided the country doesn’t devolve into civil war.
probably the most important thing i learned in all this is that having a wide appeal isn’t the goal. you don’t write to be lauded or liked. you have to stay as true to yourself and your interests as you possibly can, so that the people who come across your path can see you and help you. you’ll need those people; no one gets anywhere alone. if you pander, if you’re too concerned with praise and success or being adored, you won’t make it very far. the rejection will eventually kill you.
with all that said, my advice to you is this: never stop writing. the ability to share our stories is the single most precious thing we have. you can’t let anything stop you from telling your stories the way you need them to be told.
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Face Value (S2, E7)
My time-stamped thoughts for this episode. As always I reference Malcolm’s mental health. A lot. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.
SPOILERS AHEAD:
0:05 - Hold your horses. Malcolm taught at Quantico?!? I mean, I realize that he probably just did the occasional guest lecture (like most profilers?) but I’m still stupidly proud of him. <3
0:50 - ngl Malcolm’s a good lecturer. Take it from a university student.
1:13 - “It’s okay. We don’t know what you did and it’s not that mu-....BREATHE” Holy shit. I’m torn between ranting about what a great actor Tom Payne is and losing my mind because this scene is heartbreaking. Look at Malcolm. I swear he’s reminding himself to breathe - not Ainsley. He’s completely panicking but he’s trying so hard to be strong for Ainsley. This boy is an absolute treasure. Brother of the CENTURY.
1:41 - “You’re right Ainsley. I screwed up.” NO NO NO NO NO. Can you hear the sound of my heart shattering?!? This scene is so much more devastating the second time. When you know Ainsley is putting ON A SHOW HERE. Look at Malcolm’s face. He’s devastated. He blames himself for AINSLEY’S actions. He’s starting to genuinely believe that he’s no better than Martin Whitly. Malcolm’s depression/anxiety is through the roof in this episode. I honestly won’t be shocked if Malcolm has a complete mental breakdown in the next few episodes. Hell, I don’t think I’d be surprised if he tries to OD on his meds. This boy is in crisis and I’m terrified for him.
1:44 - “I think I did too.”.....this line is interesting. Is this part of Ainsley’s act or is she showing some regret for putting Malcolm through this much emotional torment? She can clearly see that this whole situation is literally destroying her brother’s already fragile peace of mind.
1:55 - “Today could be the day!”.....the day that everyone finds out about Endicott and Ainsley.....seriously, Malcolm’s daily affirmations this season have done nothing but feed his anxiety.
2:04 - OF COURSE. A call from Martin. Malcolm is going to have a mental breakdown. It’s just everything. All at once. I’m getting secondhand anxiety FOR him.
2:35 - hahaha Martin is a crazy, evil, pain in the ass but damn is he entertaining.
2:55 - 1) Ainsley looks adorable in Malcolm’s hoodie. 2) Ainsley straight up leaves his loft later in this episode. Did she hid a change of clothes in the loft before Malcolm got home last night? Or does she actually leave her big brother’s apartment in his clothes?
3:05 - “Getting hit by a train might be better.” Yep. Malcolm is entering a dangerous territory. I know depression is different for everyone but for me, when I start joking - out loud - to people I love about death in passing....things are bad. Like I’m getting suicidal bad. I know Malcolm has a morbid job and he talks about death all the time but this feels like Malcolm is starting to consider suicide as an option.
3:34 - I can see Ainsley’s “You were trying to control me” perspective. BUT honestly? Take a step back and listen to the desperation and fear in Malcolm’s voice. Anyone with half a brain cell can HEAR how scared Malcolm is and how deeply he loves his sister. Ainsley has known Malcolm her entire life. If she was functioning on all cylinders - she would know that Malcolm is just being a protective big brother. He’s not trying to control her - just help her. But this has been a theme for Ainsley since season 1 when she brought up visiting Martin during family dinner. She seems to believe that Jessica and Malcolm think that she’s a “fragile flower” and that she can’t take care of herself. I understand how that could be frustrating but I also find it concerning that Ainsley doesn’t seem to understand that they aren’t treating her that way because they think she’s weak or stupid but rather out of love. Ainsley acts like a petulant child about this sort of thing (anger, whining, eye-rolling). Ainsley acts very entitled a lot, in the sense that if something doesn’t go her way she just throws a hissy fit (think reporting and/or any Whitly family squabble). Ainsley is messed up. Unlike Malcolm, she doesn’t seem to have any self-awareness when it comes to her behavioural eccentricities. Malcolm actively tries to improve his mental state. Ainsley just throws a hissy fit when the world doesn’t bend to her will.....and this stream of consciousness Ainsley rant just became wayyyyy longer than I had anticipated (sorry).
3:41 - “Promise me.” See that look? Ainsley is pissed at Malcolm. This girl’s anger is concerning me.......what if (crazy thought) the season finale is Martin escaping Claremont to stop Ainsley from killing Malcolm?
3:43 - I wish I could be happier about this hug. Malcolm is finally getting a hug but.....he instigated it and he’s not the one being comforted sooooooooo I’m still unsatisfied.
3:49 - “Hey, you look...terrible.” SCREAM IT FROM THE ROOFTOPS DANI!! God. I love how concerned she is about Malcolm. IDC how you feel about Brightwell. If you don’t think they’re good friends - you’re a moron.
4:05 - This is the moment when I went....oooohhhh yeah. LDP directed this episode. That’s probably why he’s not in this scene.
4:10 - JT is a GOOD husband. Give him a medal. Seriously - last season he was going to watch the Taylor wedding live with Tally (who was going to wear a hat <3 ), this season Mr. Masculine casually throws out stats about the Housewives. hahaha I don’t even care if JT genuinely enjoys the Housewives or not. I’m just so utterly delighted at the idea of him watching it with his wife and having a good time with her. <3 JT is the definition of a good husband and I’m HERE FOR IT.
4:34 - .......seriously? I thought Edrisa had realized that this crush is unrequited last season? I love Edrisa but her obsession with Malcolm is getting a little creepy. Like “13 year old in love with the 40 year old math teacher” creepy. It’s sort of cute but also like - gurl. No.
4:38 - Ok. Dani’s reaction to Edrisa hitting on Malcolm saves the scene for me. Lol.
4:51 - Ugh. That is a really creepy corpse.
4:56 - Look. We’ve all obsessed about it already but I have to bring it up: MALCOLM STILL HAS THE BRUISE FROM THE ELEVATOR. SOMEONE GIVE THE MAKEUP DEPARTMENT A MEDAL. THANK YOU. THANK YOU FOR REMEMBERING MALCOLM’S PHYSICAL TRAUMA.
5:21- ......ok maybe I’m projecting my cynicism here but anyone who has framed newspaper clippings about themselves in their office is seriously egocentric. Maybe it’s just me - but that’s a massive turn off and takes someone out of the running for “angel” status.
6:10 - I’m sorry for every time I thought Jessica was a crazy rich lady during season 1. Birdie is so so so much crazier.
6:36 - “Only the men you date.” Bitch. OMG. Who says something that backhanded and cruel to their sibling?!?!? ......oh wait. I remember how this episode ends :|
7:15 - THANK YOU. I’ve been wondering about the status of Martin’s medical certification since I watched the pilot. SO happy to find out that he couldn’t weasel his way into keeping it.
7:37 - Like most of you, I’ve been creeped out by this whole Martin/Capshaw interaction since it was released as a promo clip. Seriously - it’s creepy. There’s an upsetting amount of subtle flirting here. I’m not sure what it is about Capshaw but her whole energy is just really unnerving to me. I immediately hated her in the promo. Istg Capshaw is an undercover serial killer or something. AND IF SHE BECOMES A LOVE INTEREST FOR MARTIN I WILL LOSE MY SHIT.
8:06 - Oh yeah. She’s either romantically interested in Martin or she’s a psychopath on the DL and is playing him.
8:12 - YAY!!! The Yankee mug returns!!! <3
8:34 - “Sometimes the most monstrous people are the ones hiding in plain sight.” Ouch. I know the writers like to project Malcolm’s emotional turmoil on the case of the week but hearing those words come out of Gil’s mouth?!? Ouch. That hurt Malcolm. Bad. It wasn’t even directed at Malcolm but damn. This is not helping his mental health. At all.
8:41 - Gil. Is. Concerned. <3 :) .....pretty sure Gil also suspects about Endicott and Ainsley by now too. .....hmmmmm maybe that comment about monsters was Gil’s way of trying to get Malcolm to confess (or to gauge Malcolm’s reaction)?
9:15 - I feel so bad for Malcolm here. He’s literally juggling everyone’s problems. Ainsley’s murder situation. Jessica’s personal drama. But is he dealing with his emotional problems? No. He’s too busy being a good son/brother. SOMEONE PAY ATTENTION TO MALCOLM. HE NEEDS A HUG.
9:35 - Deer. In. Headlights. Well....at least Dani knows Malcolm’s about to have a mental breakdown. This boy just got more information to help him crack a murder case and he looks confused, startled, and lost. He’s usually excited and motivated. This Endicott situation is slowly killing Malcolm. I don’t know how much longer he can struggle under the weight of the guilt.
9:48 - Look at this. Ainsley is pissed off that Malcolm isn’t paying attention to her. We know that this whole 2nd murder was a sham so WTF? Is she really just that hungry for attention? That sounds like Martin Whitly to me - the narcissistic psychopath who needs attention like an addict needs cocaine. Also AINSLEY’S acting here?!? We know that she’s lying to Malcolm but holy shit. She’s a really good actress/liar? What else has she lied about?!?
10:05 - Ok. So just when did Ainsley remember? I honestly think she’s known since at least 2x01.
10:20 - Look. I understand that Ainsley is pissed that Malcolm is trying to ‘control her’. But did she even listen to the desperation and fear in his voice? This boy wants her to stay in the loft because he’s scared of who she might hurt if she’s out in public, unsupervised. He’s not trying to abuse or hurt her - just protect her. Is he misguided -maybe? Should he have called the cops on Ainsley right away - probably. But he didn’t out of love. Ainsley doesn’t even seem to realize how much this whole situation is hurting Malcolm and that’s the biggest problem. She doesn’t show any remorse at killing Endicott. She’s just pissed off that Malcolm lied about it. SHE KILLED SOMEONE an she (outwardly at least) feels no remorse. This girl is a psychopath (sociopath?) and this will NOT end well for Malcolm and Jessica.
10:27 - This whole scene was awesome btw. Tom Payne flawlessly communicated Malcolm’s panic, fear, anger, and desperate attempts to stay calm. And Dani’s blatant concern (and suspicion) of Malcolm and his mental state. AND Ainsley being a little brat. Ugh. So beautiful.
10:45 - I love this scene. I love the fact that they have the type of friendship where Dani’s not afraid to call Malcolm out on his crap (trying to hide things from the team). I love that Malcolm isn’t offended that Dani called him out. He doesn’t lie. Ainsley is lost at the moment. Malcolm is more honest with Dani about how the whole Ainsley thing is affecting him than he is with anyone else. I love that Dani still looks suspicious and concerned. I love watching Dani piece this whole thing together. I’m honestly at a point where I think Dani is going to know about Endicott before Gil. I love that Dani gives Malcolm honest, judgement-free advise. Because she doesn’t like seeing how much pain Malcolm is in. I love that Malcolm isn’t completely shutting her out. <3
11:00 - “What if she already has?”.....yep. Dani is totally piecing the Endicott situation together.
11:09 - “I’m overthinking it.” THIS. There is a split second where you can see the betrayal on Dani’s face. She knows Malcolm is hiding something and she’s hurt that he doesn’t trust her enough to let her in. She’s also probably hurt because she views this as a lie - which brings back 1x20 memories.
11:35 - “Even when they’re as beautiful as you.” Ugh. I love this so so so so much. Look at how Dani absolutely lights up at Malcolm’s unintentional compliment. I relate to Dani in the sense that I’m a woman in a male dominated field (engineering). I can’t tell you how often men that she works with have probably objectified her, belittled her, and sexualized her. Malcolm isn’t doing this. He doesn’t call her hot. He doesn’t comment on her body or how she dresses. He doesn’t even acknowledge that she’s a woman. He just calls her beautiful. But he does it in a way that you can tell he’s being genuine. He doesn’t expect anything in return for the compliment. He’s not trying to play the long game. He’s just thinks she’s beautiful. He doesn’t even realize that he said it. BECAUSE Malcolm is in profiler mode. He’s focused on the murder - not Dani. He mentioned that Dani’s beauty off-handedly because 1) he believes it and 2) it was relevant to his profiling train of thought. BUT LOOK AT HOW MUCH IT MEANT TO DANI. <3 <3 <3
12:00 - Why is Chabra exiled to the corner of the room?!?! Someone explain this tomfoolery. Is it literally to just get across that Chabra is not the alpha in this corrupt plastic surgery business?!?
12:16 - Ew. Please never say YOLO. Ever. It’s cringy when kids say it but it’s so so so much worse when someone over 25 says it.
12:18 - hhahahahahahaha OMG. Dani’s face after he says “yolo”.
12:31 - Yep. This dude is an asshole. DO NOT try to convince Malcolm to get plastic surgery. The dude has enough problems without adding dysmorphia to the mix.
12:41 - Yep. Chabra is the little puppy that follows Donahue around and does the grunt work.
12:50 - LOOK AT THE NOD DONAHUE GIVES CHABRA when Chabra denies that stock has gone missing. Can you arrest someone for being a rich, corrupt, asshole?! Ugh. Hate him.
13:20 - Ugh. I really want to know more about Dani’s past. Who in the NYPD tried to belittle, micromanage, or sexualize her just because she’s a woman?
13:30 - “I want Donahue to be the bad guy.” PREACH SISTER.
13:48 - “Easy. We just isolate him with our own alpha males.” hahaha OMG. LET”S GO. I was so pumped when this scene cut to JT and Gil. BUT I was also a little sad. Malcolm doesn’t consider himself to be an alpha male (I mean, he’s not) but it really just drove home to be that Malcolm sees himself as broken. Gil has been Malcolm’s positive male role model for years. But Malcolm doesn’t think he’s anything like Gil. Malcolm thinks he’s broken where Gil is whole, weak where Gil is strong, and bad when Gil is good. It just sort of broke my heart.
14:00 - hahaha Chabra is just a wimp. Watching Gil and JT play angry cop, calm cop was so so so good though. <3
14:05 - This was the moment that I remembered LDP was directing this episode. I’m not usually someone who notices camera work or anything but this was a really cool shot.
15:00 - Oh c’mon. Seriously? Edrisa’s crush has gone too far. She knows he doesn’t like her romantically. Everyone knows it. Please stop this. I’m getting secondhand embarrassment.
15:16 - Did Edrisa think they were going to do it in the morgue?!? Those flowers?!? Like wtf. I can’t.
15:29 - I’ll give props to Malcolm here. He’s being really kind to Edrisa here. BUT HE NEEDS TO TELL HER HE’S NOT INTERESTED BECAUSE SHE’S CLEARLY NOT GETTING THE MESSAGE.
15:33 - Ugh. Look at how uncomfortable Malcolm is. This is upsetting.
16:08 - “What?!? How do you -” Panic. Pure panic in Malcolm’s eyes. Damn. This boy is spiralling. Someone needs to find out about Endicott. Malcolm can’t keep trying to protect Ainsley and Jessica alone. It’s literally killing him.
17:14 - “All she could see was the ugliness she felt inside.” “That’s a sad way to live.” .........the parallels between the plastic surgery, dysmorphia, and vengeful crime of the week to Malcolm’s current mental health and Ainsley’s crime is slowly killing me. I’m honestly getting annoyed that the other characters aren’t picking up on all the subtle references Malcolm’s making to the fact that he thinks he’s a monster. I JUST WANT SOMEONE TO COMFORT HIM. THAT’S ALL. WHY IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK FEDAK!??!
17:30 - Another point to the Dani/Malcolm friendship. She takes out the gun and pushes Malcolm back. Is she trying to protect him? Technically, yes. BUT she’s just doing her job. I love that Malcolm respects Dani enough to let her take charge and do her job. I love that he’s secure enough about his masculinity to let her.
18:15 - Yikes. This woman is 90% plastic. Cosmetic plastic surgery is terrifying.
20:16 - Another reminder of the woman’s ward. Either Sophie Sanders or Ainsley is going to end up in that ward soon (I’m still half-convinced that Sophie is going to appear out of the woodwork and take the fall for Endicott).
21:49 - “...convinced her that she would never have a career unless she looked the part.” <3 Look at how disgusted Gil is when Dani tells him that. Gil is a good man and I love him forever. <3
22:33 - I love this. Dani and Gil are both concerned about Malcolm and communicating it in looks. It won’t be long until there’s a team intervention for Malcolm’s mental health (or at least, that’s my headcanon - if someone wants to write me a fic about it I’ll love you forever).
22:44 - WTF GIL. WHY AREN’T YOU ASKING MALCOLM WHAT’S WRONG?!?! IS IT BECAUSE YOU ALREADY KNOW AND YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO FEEL ABOUT IT YET?!?!
22:49 -.....soooooo does this mean that Gil already knew that Birdie existed?!? How often did Birdie appear after Martin’s arrest?!?! I WANT DETAILS.
23:06 - Holy shit. Look at that little smirk Ainsley shoots Malcolm when he first walks in and sees her. Ainsley is maliciously toying with Malcolm and I DON”T LIKE IT.
23:14 - Jessica is concerned. I promise you Ainsley and Malcolm have rarely - if ever - fought like this in front of her. I was raised in single parent home after my abusive dad left. I know how that changes the sibling dynamic. No matter how genuinely pissed off you are - you don’t stress Mom out more. If you’re just annoyed with each other and doing regular ‘sibling squabbling’ - then you whine and argue in front of Mom. But if you’re seriously angry with each other - you deal with it when Mom isn’t home to see it because no matter what - you both appreciate how hard Mom is working to keep what’s left of your family together.
23:28 - “Malcolm. Looking more like your father every day.” BITCH. Did she just say that because she watched Malcolm go off on Ainsley? Sure, Malcolm was a little controlling (probably similar to a situation Birdie witnessed between Jess and Martin back in the day) but HOLY SHIT. That is your nephew. Maybe he’s having a bad day. Maybe being told he resembles a serial killer is really damaging to his already fragile pysche. I don’t like Birdie. AND I DON”T LIKE THAT JESSICA DOESN”T STAND UP FOR MALCOLM HERE.
24:00 - I don’t like this. These Martin+Capshaw scenes are really hard to watch. Martin is still acting like Martin - manipulative, egotistic, manicA. But he’s also acting like a professional doctor (an asshole doctor but still). It’s really disconcerting to watch Capshaw take his medical opinion seriously. Plus - there’s something about Capshaw that creeps me out. I just haven’t figured out what it is yet. But I’m pretty sure she’s a bad lady.
24:16 - “What bit should I use?” - See this? No. Just...no. I don’t like how she’s taking Martin’s medical advise to heart so readily.
25:04 - Why was Martin allowed to watch the procedure?!? He’s clearly getting a sick amount of pleasure from the blood and drilling. Look at the way Martin grins at Capshaw too. Martin is planning out an entire scheme to manipulate Capshaw into helping him escape. You can see the metaphoric lightbulb above his head.
25:29 - This meal. Seriously. Was I the only one who got a glimpse of the meat in a red sauce and thought “human meat”?!? No wonder Malcolm’s main food group is liquorice.
25:44 - Poor Jessica. She is not having a good time. Jessica’s behaviour in this scene is really interesting though. Jessica repeatedly shoots apologetic looks at Malcolm. She looks at Ainsley with fear. She looks super uncomfortable. She’s not saying much because she desperately wants a relationship with her sister but she also doesn’t want to belittle her son’s career. She’s proud of Malcolm - in her own way.
26:00 - “The family trust fund would run dry.” hahahahaha YES MALCOLM. THROW THAT SHADE. hahahaha
26:23 - “Most of the time anyway” Wow. Uncalled for. I know Ainsley is mad but this isn’t cool. I have this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that Birdie has been approached by Europol about the Endicott murder. I have this terrifying notion that Birdie is trying to collect intel so she can sell the information to Europol. If I’m right (which I’m probably not) this comment will not help Malcolm’s case.
26:41 - hahaha look at how annoyed Jessica is. Is she annoyed because her children are openly fighting in front of their Aunt when Jessica wants to portray the “perfect, undamaged family”? Or is Jessica annoyed because what Ainsley just said was out of line and she’s scared of Ainsley right now?
27:02 - “Why would you do that? I told you I would handle everything.” This. This is why I will argue that Ainsley is way out of line. Yes, Malcolm is sort of trying to control her. BUT listen to his words, the desperation and fear in his voice. Malcolm is trying to protect Ainsley. Ainsley has every right to be annoyed with him but if she was functioning at an adult mental capacity she’d be able to see that he isn’t being malicious.
27:35 - The fact that Birdie is a backstabbing, lying bitch is so frustrating to me. Look at how badly Jessica wants to have a healthy relationship with her little sister. Jessica just wants a girl-friend to confide in and drink with. I’m heartbroken that Martin stole that from her.
28:05 - I know LDP was directing this episode but JT or Dani should’ve called Malcolm. Why? This conversation between Gil and Malcolm (WHEN GIL IS WEARING HIS COAT) just makes me wonder - where is Gil going? JT is at Donahue’s apartment. Dani and Malcolm are going to talk to Chabra. Where is Gil going?!?
29:07 - ....how did Donahue get the coke into the cheetah? Was there a release thingy (like in a piggy bank) that Malcolm just elected not to use in the panic of the moment?
29:14 - “What else would you hide in a cheetah?” hahahahahaha
29:40 - “No. No. Only if I got the dose wrong.” Yikes. Malcolm is operating in full panic mode here. This is not good for his mental health.
30:08 - “This is the worst cooking show ever.” hahaha this was hilarious but cooking show? What? Do I not watch enough of those? Because I don’t see the link.
30:38 - The moment when Malcolm looks at Dani with fear. He thinks he just killed Chabra and he’s terrified that Dani is looking at him with hatred. :(
30:46 - The two seconds when Malcolm thinks he killed someone. Look at his face. That boy is broken. Again - if he doesn’t have a full on mental breakdown soon I’m going to be so annoyed with the writers because NO HUMAN CAN WITHSTAND THIS MUCH TRAUMA THIS QUICKLY - WITHOUT ANY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT - AND COME OUT FUNCTIONAL.
31:03 - “I do not miss drugs.” :O Dani :( Sweetie <3 Ugh. This line was heartbreaking because it hurts to remember that Dani had a drug problem. But it’s also really great. She was just in front of 1 gram of cocaine. She didn’t grab for it. It didn’t reawaken the urge to use in her. She was strong enough to say “I don’t miss this life” and say it OUT LOUD in front of Malcolm. <3 Friendship. She’s starting to trust Malcolm more. This is good....until she finds out about Endicott.
31:45 - Wait. If Birdie knew about Endicott and Jessica.....does she know about Gil?!?!
31:49 - “Trust but verify.” That’s such a heartbreaking way to live. I hate that she has to live in a world without trust because of what Martin did. I want Jessica to be happy. So so badly.
32:06 - .....how did Jessica find out about the book?!!?! Seriously.
32:17 - “Mummy”. Mrs. Milton is alive?!?! What. OMG. So....but how? Jessica is living in the Milton family home. Jessica is rich. But Birdie has been cut off from the family money. However, it’s clear from this conversation that Jessica and her mother aren’t on speaking terms. So how did this work? When did Jessica move into the Milton family home and why? Where is Jessica’s money coming from? Did Jessica invest her trust fund money smartly and make a fortune? Does Jessica still have access to the Milton family bank accounts?!? AND WHERE IS JESSICA’S DAD?!!? I WANT MORE INFORMATION FEDAK.
32:49 - Malcolm is his mother’s son. Look at this. Jessica is so hurt by what Birdie has done. However, Jessica sighs, takes a breath and helps her little sister out at the cost of causing herself pain. Malcolm would do the exact same for Ainsley. He has.
33:40 - “And do we need to talk about last night?!?” Gil has been different this season. Less soft. More strict.
33:51 - Look at how Gil stares at Dani here. He’s annoyed and concerned. Concerned because she was in close proximity to drugs last night. Annoyed because he created a monster. Gil put together is badass, sarcastic daughter with his unstable, awkward son and they are creating a headache for him.
34:41 - “even for consultants?” hahaha
36:50 - The irony that our killer of the week is a woman who is in pain, feels disfigured, and murders in revenge is so so thick.
37:18 - “It’s enough to drive anyone insane”.....like the emotional pain that Malcolm is currently suffering from?
38:42 - “The best revenge is letting him live like this.” The moment Malcolm realized that Ainsley was manipulating him. Look at the hurt and fear on his little face. :(
39:00 - Ugh. I can’t tell who’s manipulating who in this whole Capshaw+Martin relationship but it’s all gross. I swear if they become romantic I will puke. These two are a psychopathic match made in heaven.
40:08 - I could write essays upon essays about this final scene but I need to sleep. So it’s going into point form without time stamps:
First off - Halston Sage and Tom Payne give us an AMAZING performance in this scene and they deserve an Emmy for it. Seriously.
Look at how Ainsley walks into the room. She’s self-satisfied. She feels no remorse. She’s pleased that Malcolm has been suffering.
Look at how utterly empty Malcolm is when he greets Ainsley. This boy is in shock. He’s so deeply hurt and he just had one of his greatest fears confirmed - Ainsley is like Martin.
“Do you have any idea what you put me through?!?” This. Yes, Malcolm is upset and hurt but there’s a part of me that genuinely thinks this question isn’t rhetorical. There’s a part of me that thinks Malcolm is desperately trying to get Ainsley to admit to feeling remorse so that he can convince himself that his baby sister isn’t gone forever.
“Do you?” Ainsley is mad. She has a right to be. Malcolm did lie to her. He probably should’ve told her the truth. HOWEVER, if Ainsley was a functional adult - she would’ve just confronted Malcolm about it. She has every right to be pissed but her behaviour has been downright petty, juvenile, and cruel.
“Underestimated me. For months.” Is this the root of Ainsley’s anger? She mentioned something similar in 1x6 when Jessica and Malcolm tried to stop her from visiting Martin. She resents Jessica and Malcolm for treating her like a child. For trying to protect her from Martin. On one hand, I understand - that’s probably suffocating and frustrating. On the other hand, Ainsley’s acting like a child so....why wouldn’t they treat her like one?
“I have given up everything for you!! I don’t even know who I am anymore.” This breaks me. Malcolm is screaming through tears. He’s so utterly broken (this doesn’t count as a mental breakdown Fedak....you better give me more). Malcolm is rightfully frustrated that Ainsley doesn’t acknowledge that he literally threw out his moral code to protect her. That when this gets out - his relationship with his only real friends since he was 10 years old (JT and Dani) will probably want nothing to do with him. Malcolm probably thinks that Gil will abandon him WHEN the Endicott thing comes out. Malcolm has thrown his fragile mental health down the drain to protect Ainsley. He thinks he’s a monster. Yes. Malcolm made the choice to protect Ainsley. Ainsley doesn’t have to be grateful. She doesn’t have to respect his decision. But acknowledging that his decision was made out of love would sure help. Malcolm wanted to be a good big brother so badly that he threw away his sense of self.
“Protect me? Or control me?” Wow. Okay. I get it. Ainsley feels controlled which is bad for someone who likes being in control. But Malcolm was never trying to control Ainsley. Malcolm was trying to control a situation. Not a person. Is what Malcolm did right? No, lying to Ainsley wasn’t a great choice. But telling her the truth also wasn’t a great choice. He was damned either way.
“For someone who spent the last few decades trying to recover from being gaslight; it’s ironic how quickly you resorted to it.” Uncalled for. Was Malcolm gaslighting Ainsley? Technically, yes. HOWEVER, one of the main criteria for gaslighting is that the gaslighter is aware that they’re gaslighting someone. I honestly don’t think Malcolm realized he was gaslighting Ainsley - look at his face when she mentions it: he looks heartbroken. BESIDES. How is AINSLEY NOT GASLIGHTING MALCOLM RIGHT NOW?!?! “That’s exactly what Dad would say.” She’s trying to convince Malcolm that he’s just like Martin. She’s made him believe that she murdered a second person. She made him an accomplice to her fake murder. She knowingly continued with this ruse after he came clean and told her the truth. And he was nothing but supportive and protective. Malcolm helped her hide a body. Why is Ainsley playing the victim?!
Look at the torture on Malcolm’s face right before he apologizes to Ainsley for lying to her. This boy is being gaslight and he doesn’t even realize it.
FURTHERMORE I DON’T RECALL AINSLEY APOLOGIZING TO MALCOLM FOR MAKING HIM 1) HIDE A BODY, 2) LIE TO THEIR MOM, 3) LIE TO GIL, 4) AN ACCOMPLICE TO A SECOND (FAKE) MURDER, 5) LYING TO MALCOLM ABOUT THE SECOND MURDER. She just says, “Maybe it was a little over the top.” Come on. No.
“I appreciate that.” SERIOUSLY. Ainsley doesn’t even have the curtesy to say “I’m sorry too.” or “I know you did what you thought was best”?!? Her response feels bitter and angry. She doesn’t forgive Malcolm. She’s still livid despite the fact that her brother is literally breaking apart in front of her. There’s no questioning the genuineness of Malcolm’s apology. That’s sincere pain and remorse.
This whole scene is super disturbing because Malcolm is on the verge of tears. He’s visibly upset. Yet - Ainsley is channeling a quiet, disassociating anger (similar to what she looked like right before she murdered Endicott). She’s completely consumed by anger. She’s not acting rationally and it’s really disconcerting to watch the contrast between the two siblings.
“I had to make sure that you were never going to mess with my head again.” .....you know, a functional adult human (hell, even a half-functional adult human) would just verbally confront their sibling about it. They probably wouldn’t fully trust or forgive their sibling right away but they wouldn’t pull a stunt as cruel and malicious as Ainsley just pulled on Malcolm. The problem with Ainsley’s behaviour vs. Malcolm’s is this: Ainsley is intentionally hurting Malcolm out of anger. Ainsley wants revenge. Malcolm reacted out of fear and panic to protect Ainsley. Malcolm just wants to be a good big brother. Neither of them are perfectly in the right but Ainsley is so so so out of line.
“You need to lighten up. We got away with it.” Ainsley is a serial killer. Say it from the rooftops. This is the first time she’s shown an emotion other than anger/disassociation all episode. Ainsley is happy that they got away with it. Malcolm is crumpling under the guilt and grief but Ainsley is happy.
“No one does this murder stuff better than us.” Holy shit. I can’t. Malcolm looks so so so heartbroken here. He just realized that his sister is gone forever. AND AINSLEY damn. This girl needs some serious help. She’s going to kill again. She liked it the first time. I bet you she slaughtered the pig just to get her fix. She could’ve boughten the pig’s blood from a butcher shop or something but I bet you she killed the pig herself. And I bet you she liked it.
Hoxley is a flamboyant gay and a cocky profiler. That’s just a fact.
I can’t. Alan Cummings will always be the villain from Spy Kids to me. I don’t know how I’m going to take Hoxley seriously.
Yoooooo Endicott’s head is creepy af.
Damn. This isn’t good. Hoxley is going to ruin Malcolm’s life. I can feel it.
Okay. I loved this episode. I have a lot of feelings about it (obviously). I’m so bitter that we have to wait until April 13th for the next episode. See you guys next time. If you read this far - thanks for hanging out.
#jess-rewatches-prodigal#malcolm bright#prodigal son#gil arroyo#dani powell#JT Tarmel#ainsley whitly#martin whitly#edrisa tanaka#jessica whitly#I LOVE this show#whump#rewatch#spoliers#malcolm needs a hug#ps#so good#Face value#s2#e7#2x7#02x07#2x07
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Prize Buck
I’m out of my hiatus. I was asked for Klaus Headcanons, wrote a smut fic after work today instead whoops
A/N: drug use, addiction, oral(m/f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap that shit folx), female or nb afab reader, thinking sad thoughts while doing sexy things, sorta sub!Klaus, mental health issues, roughness, unedited, i added a line that only makes sense if you read the comics
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“You’re seriously telling me you’ve never done this? You?” Klaus asks, bringing the bowl and the lighter closer to you. You hadn’t, in honesty. You were the worlds most casual of casual stoners. You’d roll a joint if the mood struck you; meticulously crafted and thin for the perfect little heady time. Or you’d take a hit from a bong at a friends house, only if they offered to smoke you out. Really though, weed wasn’t your thing, it just had to become a part of the routine now because there weren’t other options. You couldn’t get your normal poison, amphetamines, so feeling uncontrollably sluggish instead of uncontrollably wired was the new normal.
A non-committal head shake was all you could offer. He was right to be incredulous at that revelation. You had met in rehab, for god’s sake. Klaus had, no HAS, a lot of problems, some you watched him scream and sweat through during his first week in the room across the hall from you. You were the one that he woke up constantly, because your crash left you near coma and crying when you were conscious. Despite making your recovery hell, he was the only one you could talk to when the tears subsided. Before rehab, you were a a published scholar at the height of your career, working with a newly discovered artifact from an anthropology dig. You’d spent your career hopped up on all of the meds you could find, culminating this research, staying up for thirteen days before having a breakdown in which you break the artifact from shaking so hard and crash your car fleeing the research center with your writing.
Weed was new. It was never your thing. But Klaus was new too, and he was your thing. You’d become fast friends in group therapy sessions, and inseparable out of them. It was unorthodox and frowned upon, but you became roommates once you’d gotten out. Just a small studio above a shop. A couch and a mattress that you’d switch off sleeping on, or you’d just both crash on the flood a hairs breadth away from snuggling. But it was the option that worked. You’d both confided that true sobriety wasn’t an option. So instead of anything hard, it was weed and alcohol. This was something that wouldn’t kill you or get you sent back. Controllable. And maybe one day you’d be able to go into a different field. Get an apartment with an actual bedroom. Maybe he could be able to shut out some of his power. But for now, this is what would work. It was a transition that made sense to you.
“I just can’t believe you’ve never shotgunned a bowl. Don’t all the great writers have their little parties where they smoke each other out? Isn’t that how Mary and Percy had that orgy with Lord Byron?” You wanted to correct him that you were a disgraced anthropologist, not a writer, but his warm thigh nudging yours reminds you now isn’t really the time. You give a weak smile instead.
“I guess since you’re the only person I smoke with, you’d be the only person to shotgun me.” He scooches closer to you, earthy scent already working wonders to entrance you. You wonder if he knew he had this effect on your mind and body.
“So you’ll let me shoot you now?” He asks. You smile, a little anxious, a little toothy.
“Shoot me? What am I, a ten point buck?”
There’s going to be a great feat of self control to keep yourself from jumping the curly haired man next to you, and self control is not one of your strong suits. You were head over heels in lust with Klaus and you didn’t even know if he was into women.
He begins with an unceremonious prodding at the fresh ground bud in the glass bowl with his pinky. Then he flicks the gas station lighter once. Twice. A spark. The flame dips into the bowl and there’s a soft crackle that’s accompanied and fueled by Klaus’ plump lips wrapping around the head of the pipe. It’s almost obscene to look at and you find yourself shifting uncomfortably. Well, not uncomfortably, but not in a way that’s appropriate for this setting. There’s probably more than a slight chance Klaus knows you’re aroused, but he’s being polite about it. Even now, as his lungs are filling up with smoke, and he’s puffing out his cheeks like a chipmunk, there’s this ebbing and throbbing between your legs.
And now, for the shotgun itself. You know he’s blowing all the smoke in his body into your mouth, but the last thing you expect is how it feels to actually have his lips on yours. At first he’s methodical, a slow diaphragm push of smoke into your mouth, your lips parted slightly and drinking in the smoke as it comes. But no, that’s not enough; not giving Klaus enough access to deliver the goods. He makes quick work of parting your lips further by a harsh squeeze to your jaw. The way the smoke and his tongue invade your mouth does nothing to help curb the lack of self control you possess as you moan wantonly into the kiss. The shotgun. You could be addicted to this alone.
By the time he pulls away, you feel like a balloon in that you’re floating, and the hand you have securely placed on your roommates thigh is the only thing keeping you from floating out the window and into some electrical wires or into a tree for birds to choke to death on. You start low, reddened eyes looking from your hand on his thigh, up to his chest. Klaus’ chest is almost always bare. His arms and the muscles of his abdomen were littered with the odd scar and tattoo here and there. He told you they’re from fighting in Vietnam in the 1960s and France in the 1400s. When he said it, he was so earnest you could do nothing but believe him. Then your eyes travel a little more north, to his lips. He needs a shave; his mustache and his chin getting a bit too scraggly, but they tickled when you came together for the smoke. And then you finally meet his eyes, unabashed that you just drank him in like lemonade. His pupils are blown wide when you finally look into them; not something weed would do to you. No, this was something else.
“Another?” He asks, voice trembling and breathy, not above a whisper.
“I- I want more.” Your voice coming out a tad huskier than you intended, not masking how his actions had an effect on you. Your skirt feels entirely too open right now. If you were wearing jeans, or tight pants like his, you’d feel some kind of restraint. Like a chastity belt, you think, some real medieval torture. But it would be all too easy to lift this skirt, or even to shift your hips and grind against something for even a tiny iota of relief.
You don’t even watch Klaus take the hit this time, only turning your head back to face him when you hear him stop sucking. This time, he sets the bowl down before leaning in. Your mouth is open and ready for him, already a quick learner from what just transpired. So Klaus doesn’t grab your jaw this time. Instead, he grabs the hand that’s still resting on his thigh.
And he shoves it towards the crotch of his pants.
Where your open palm lands clumsy and hard against the hardness straining at his pants.
He groans as contact is made and almost coughs the rest of the smoke into your mouth, but you’re there to suck it down in stride. There’s only a quick pause for you to exhale this now twice filtered smoke before your lips re-attach to his, the bowl and lighter now forgotten.
His hand drifts to your jaw a second time, before sliding down further to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer, until it strains your back. He knows you fell asleep on the couch last night, so he knows how much this burns your taught muscles. All to his advantage it seems, as you shift your weight to your knee before turning and straddling him, all without breaking the kiss or your removing your hand from his clothed cock. Your skirt pools at where both of your hips meet, and he readjusts it -ever the gentleman- for you as you begin to knead and squeeze him beneath your hand.
Instead of smoke now, your mouths fill with the moans and sighs of each other, both refusing to end the kissing first and both running out of air. The onslaught of kissing continues through some under the shirt fondling, through Klaus less than gently pinching at your nipples, through you unbuttoning Klaus’ pants- now much too tight. He only breaks the kiss finally to beckon you,
“Stand up, I’ve got something else I want to show you”
Wobbly, you give his clothed cock one more squeeze before you rise to your feet.
While you move to reposition, standing over him now with your skirt bunched in one hand and your panties in another, he shimmies his pants down to his knees. All of your wondering if he was into more than just men is silenced when his tongue makes first contact with your clit. He takes the time to swirl his tongue tantalizingly slow, then quickly flicking his tongue upward, making your knees buckle until they land at the back of the couch just above his shoulders. You lean into it as he writes letters to you with his tongue, teasing the entrance to your cunt with his fingers and gathering the wetness until his fingers are slick.
You’re about to beg for it, cry for his fingers to penetrate you, but you don’t have to because he plunges in to the hilt. There is no easing into it, he thrusts his middle and ring finger at a break neck speed. Your skin feels white hot and the only purchase you can find is in squeezing the fabric balled in your palms and Klaus skewers you and torches every one of your nerve endings with his hot mouth and fingers.
Your high is coming to a head, literally and figuratively, when Klaus retracts all attention. You whine, pouting and pitiful, when he says something that surprises you:
“You’re gonna cum, right? Order me. Order me to make you cum. I’ll obey.”
So you do.
“Fuck— Klaus. Fuck! Make me cum. Make me cum on your face.”
When he returns to your cunt he’s unmerciful, working you back up to and through your high before you can even realize it’s happening. You barely savor it before you’re convulsing, sinking your knees further until they rest on his shoulders and he has to grab you by the ass to hold you up. You hadn’t been touched like this since before you had met Klaus, and you wanted more. Insatiable and prone, you make your next move untangling yourself from his grasp.
Sinking down, you feel the old wood creak beneath your stiff knees. This would hurt like a bitch, but when Klaus smiles down at you with his face covered in the wetness of your orgasm, you can’t find a reason to care. His smile is genuine, wide and splitting, the same look he gives you when you come home with pizza. Well, this was about to be better than pizza. The tip of your tongue touches the head of his cock first, a tiny testing lick earning a full body shudder from the man in front of you.
“Please don’t tease. Do a guy a favor. Please baby?”
You’re a sucker for his pleading, and just as he didn’t give you time to adjust, you don’t give him any warning before you sink your entire mouth down on him, only stopping to hollow out your cheeks when his tip hits the back of your throat. You hold it there for a moment, and then only gag as your lungs run out of oxygen. Klaus could be a substitute for oxygen, you’d gladly rather take him in than anything you would have tried before.
He whines, you notice. High pitched and needy. He would probably do anything I asked right now to cum, you think, but you quickly dismiss the thought. In a way you’re glad it’s you sucking his soul out through his cock and no one else, because he’s putting so much of himself into this. You wonder if he’s been taken advantage before. You hope not.
You banish the thought by moaning around the head of his cock. You revel in his reaction, to bury both of his hands in your hair as he all but sobs out “oh god please keep doing that” or something like that, you can’t really tell for sure over the rush his touch sends straight back down to your core.
As much as you want to worship his cock, your own tears from gagging on it start to sting your eyes. So you pull off him, just long enough to ask,
“Do you want me to finish you like this? Or another way?” Pausing to kiss the underside of his cock before adding, “You can have any part of me you want”
It’s like a flip switches, and he’s pulling you back up, pulling your skirt down and off of you in fluid motion, before you take your spot straddling him again. Impatient, he pushes you down onto him, thrusting away immediately finding a groove.
“Oh I’m gonna make you cum— gonna be real good for you. M-make you feel real good.” He’s a stuttering, groaning mess as he thrusts up into you.
“You feel amazing inside me. You’re doing so good, Klaus. Making me feel amazing,” you coo, doing everything to praise and encourage him. “I’m gonna cum, can you feel that? It’s all for you, do you want that— OH”
The thought caught mid air stopped short by a particularly accurate thrust right into a spot that makes you scream, your second orgasm of the afternoon now much closer than it had been. You feel your muscles clench as you bear down on him, trying to make Klaus hit that spot over and over. By the way his rhythm is almost non existent, you can tell he’s almost there too.
Something crosses your mind, and before you fully process the thought, one of your hands is wrapping around his throat, fingers and thumb squeezing deftly so that you don’t close the airway, but that he sees stars. That does it.
Klaus cumming is almost more beautiful than it feels. His cock twitches and paints your insides, and you cum from the sensation as well, but the blissed-out fucked-out face smiling up at you is to see heaven itself. His eyeliner is streaked with tears, his lips swollen and bruised, a smile splitting his face in two.
You move to get up, maybe clean yourself up, but at least put your panties back on. Klaus stops you though with his hands gently but firmly on your hips, holding you in place.
“Just stay. For a bit. I’m not one of those dames you can deflower and avoid their calling cards.”
A snort of laughter. A joke covering real insecurity; you can see right through it.
“Klaus, you were deflowered long before I ever got here, but I’m not gonna go anywhere. You shot me, I’m your prize buck.”
#my work#klaus x reader#klaus hargreeves x reader#klaus hargreeves imagine#klaus hargreeves smut#smut#tw drugs#addiction tw#drugs cw#prize buck series
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Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes...
We've sure had a few changes here at The Ocean Shores Resort. It's been a full on month since I last wrote... Through the good, the bad, and the ugly, we've been keeping positive, enjoying the cooler days. Damn summer is hot and long here!!!
The past few months have all been about learning to deal with life's unexpected roadblocks and detours.
There's a lot to tell, but I think the main thing is, at least for me, that I've been a student for the first time the late 1990's. I've spent the past 4 weeks in class, learning, studying, researching, getting to know my classmates and finding all of it challenging, stimulating and exciting.
Studying counseling has been surprisingly awesome for my mental health too. I mean, I have had some really challenging days, especially when it comes to some of the assessments. The first one, well I just about quit the course over it. I really was at my wit's end. An assessment, I suspect, that was created by some office nut job in a government position, who never taught a day in his life and thinks his open ambiguous questions are making it easier for us to answer. I think the whole class suffered sleepless nights that week!! Terrible, but I chipped away at it, persevered and managed to finish it a few days early. Not only that, I learnt a lot about myself and the situation at hand, as you know I'm all about the process.
I learnt that I have to work slowly and meaningfully at these assessments. I can't expect to finish it in one sitting or even in one weekend. Just starting and having a go, finding the easier parts to get done first, using different resources (I love how I can spend the day watching youtube videos and count that as research) and making sure I take time to focus on me with a little bit of self care.
Alex has been super great too, as I delve into this mysterious world of study and being a student. She listens to me talk about the counseling theory of the day, the one we just did in class and how great it is because I can already apply it to friends, family or, more importantly, myself, only to hear me talk about the next theory the next day, like it's gods gift to therapy. She proof reads all my work, debates theories, offers very good suggestions (not only is she super self aware, but she's studied psychology) and somehow, I don't know how she does it, but she knows when I need a break and encourages me to take it. Otherwise I would be at the books day and night.
I've also learnt a lot in class about myself. Part of that comes from comparing my experiences, beliefs and knowledge with my classmates. They are all really great people from a wide variety of backgrounds. But some, push my buttons ever so gently, and I love it. I love the challenge of figuring out why I react to that person that way. What is it I'm feeling and why?
I am thankful this is not an online course!
I've gotten to know some classmates fairly well, and I am surprised at how they openly offer words of appreciation and support. Like “your voice is really calming” and “your vulnerability and openness is a breath of fresh air”. I always thought my voice sounded pretty crap! (Yes I know I sing, but that still doesn't mean I like the sound of my own voice). Also, I never thought I was actually being vulnerable, I always thought that I was just sharing stuff, my stuff, in the hope we can understand each other better. I may have to stop that now....
Nahhhh, just kidding...
The course is something that is right for me, right now. I don't think my mental state would have been ready 2 to 5 years ago, let alone 10 or even 20 years ago!!
Besides the 2 afternoons being ruined by frustration, anger and hopelessness, due to the above mentioned assessment from hell, it's been a good 4 weeks into the year long course. I look forward to each day in class... I even go to the college on my off days to work in the library instead of working from home. I just get more done, even though Mijo misses my lap!
I don't know where the course will take me, I haven't even thought of what job I want to do once I'm a qualified counselor. I hope that during my time as a student, the course will guide me in the direction best suited for me. Learn my weaknesses, follow my strengths and work with both. It's all too overwhelming to think too far ahead. See, I'm learning...
Right here and now... That's all that matters....
During my first week at college, Alex changed jobs. Arriving in Australia and diving head first into real estate sales 1 hour away from home was a real high jump to begin with! The pressure of the job, not to mention the 2 hours a day traveling time, the weekend work and the small size of the business with undefined job roles made it tough! Real tough!
Alex decided to side step into an admin position in a bigger real estate company closer to home with defined job roles, massive support and a very positive outlook. She basically took up her role she had in New York. She's lovin' it! I am too. She's home each night at the same time, doesn't bring much work home with her, other than stories of her awesome day, which I love to hear. Additionally she now has her weekends free to explore and relax too.
She also found a psychiatrist who confirmed her ADHD diagnosis. Alex was originally diagnosed in her early 20's after her turbulent teenage years. She had therapy and medication back then but after a huge burn out in the US, she came back to Germany and let it all lapse. It has been a real struggle for her to cope, and at times, I'll be honest, it has put strain on our marriage. Well, 1 day after her first doc appointment and her meds had kicked in, she's become a new woman. It's been great to get to know this side of her. While things are not 100% perfect, I now have a wife who looks forward to getting up and attacking the day with gusto.
Mum's had a hard run lately too... We all know that I came back to help support her as her eye sight slowly deteriorates. I've been here to read every label, drive her to every appointment and help her work the wonderful world of her laptop, printer and Windows. Alex has been alongside us for the ride too. There's been a few recent health issues that have cropped up. I can't go into detail, but it's fair to say, I can see it was the right time to come home and be here to support Mum.
Mum is strong willed, strong minded and independent, and little of that will change while she can fight against all the odds throwin' at her. It's been a tough couple of weeks, and mum's kept focused on the bigger picture, her health, it's been inspiring.
Mijo has been through the wars.
The little deaf cat recently celebrated his 6 month birthday, but the poor fella has something seriously going on with his health which means we are delaying any big celebrations until his 1st birthday... Besides ringworm (it's not actually a worm, it's a fungal infection), a tooth that won't grow down (it grows directly forward and needs to be surgically removed), no appetite and losing weight, he's doing fine! The poor lethargic fella sleeps all day, which is kind of normal, except I can't remember the last time he had the energy to chase a toy or even run.
I haven't been taking him out much, he needs rest. We did explore the beaches, rivers and parks nearby together, I hope that in a few months I can pick up where we left off. For now he needs rest, calmness and another trip or two the vet.
Through all these ups and downs, we're all actually quite good.
My deep hole from February/March is just a blimp on the computer screen of my life. Studying has raised a few challenges but I am working my way through them, determined to kick that courses ass and learn, learn, learn... One day I hope I can help others through similar struggles as my own.
Alex's struggles with ADHD are progressing in the right direction now and her new job sure was the right call. Mum is showing the world she can take on whatever is thrown at her, and then some.
Alex and I keep going from strength to strength. I'm blessed with her support, respect and love. One classmates already calls her “the awesome wife”, and they've never met!! I guess when I talk about my wife, I reek of pride and love, as it should be.
Thanks for reading,
The Josh
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Survey #424
“got no superspeed, but i’m running this town”
What is the first line in the song you are currently listening to/last listened to? "I’m running out of time; I hope that I can save you somehow.” Are you an easy lay? Not in the slightest. What was the last reason you cried? Life and how inexplicably I'm failing at it. What’s hurting you right now? More like what isn't. Do you remember important dates? Only some. I'm awful with numbers. Do you own anything with the Playboy Bunny on it? No. Do you own a bean bag chair? No. Have you ever played Gamecube? At a friend's house. Have you ever played with toy cars before? Yeah, with my nephew. He LOVES monster trucks. Have you ever touched a caterpillar? Oh, definitely. I loved picking them up as a kid. What is your favorite kind of salad? Just plain 'ole iceberg lettuce with ranch, really. Are you any good at Ping-Pong? Holy hell no, I SUCK. What was/is your high school mascot? A firebird. Can you make cute little animals by folding paper? God no, I'm awful at origami. Like, I have zero concept of how to do it. What kind of music do you like? Various types of metal and rock. Do you like apple juice? Yeah. Do you like to draw? It's funny, like I do love it, but I barely ever do it because I get frustrated when I can't get what's in my head onto paper. What do you put on your french fries? Generally ketchup. How many people can comfortably sleep in your bed? Two. Do you want to have a big family in the future? I don't want kids, just pets. Probably a lot of pets. Is Vegas one of your must-see places? No. Pet rat: yay or nay? I've had multiple pet rats and I adore them. I've come to find I'm not the best at keeping rodents because changing the bedding so much sucks ass, but nevertheless they are fantastic pets for people who don't mind the maintenance. Would you call yourself a writer? Written any stories lately? Yes. I haven't written in a while, though. I just have absolutely zero motivation to RP. Are you good at reading people's body language? I probably overanalyze it, really. Ever threatened somebody and actually went through with it? I don’t threaten people. Does holding newborn babies scare you? Extremely. I feel like they're made of thin glass. Piercings: yay or nay? I LOVE piercings. They add an interesting touch to your appearance and to me just (usually) look super cool. There are very few piercings I don't like. Do you have a collage of pictures in your bedroom? No, but I want to make a motivation board very badly. Favorite Nicholas Cage movie? Ghost Rider. Were video games better in the 1980s, 1990s, or the 2000s? Why? '80s games bore me honestly, but I love some '90s and many 2000s games. I've got to say ultimately newer games win, because of graphics increasing immersion (no, I do not whatsoever believe graphics are everything or always make a better experience), voice acting improving immensely, etc. Have you ever watched The Beverly Hillbillies? Yes! Mom loves it so I used to watch it a lot with her as a kid. I'd still watch it. Did your mother ever sing lullabies to you when you were younger? Yes. Are you ready to get out of this town? I HATE THIS TOOOWN, IT'S SO WASHED UUU-UP, AND ALL MY FRIENDS DON'T GIVE A FUUU-UUUUUCK god hell yes get me the fuck out. Do you know anybody that is pregnant right now? Quite a few. What are you listening to? "Superluv” by Shane Dawson. Have you ever gotten a speeding ticket? No. Does your father have any facial hair? Yes. Did your grandparents teach you anything? My maternal grandmother, the only one I really ever knew, taught me I'm a disappointment, pretty much. And a bitch. Do you want/have a Bachelor’s degree? It'd be nice to have one, but I don't, and I'm not pursuing it again. I've wasted enough of my parents' money. Are you into superheroes? Who’s your favourite? Not seriously, but I enjoy them well enough. I like Spider-Man. What did you have for dinner last night? Mom ordered Mexican. I had two shrimp and cheese quesadillas and rice with cheese. Do you think you look similar to your siblings? No. Have you ever played Cards Against Humanity? Did you like it? Yeah, it's fun. Do you know your best friend’s middle name? Yes. Are you close to your father? I am. Have you ever had a serious conversation with your dad? Yeah. Would you rather have long or short hair? I enjoy having short hair way more. Who did you go/plan on going with to prom? I went with Jason twice. Have you ever been to a debate and speech tournament? Hell no, and I never would. Arguing makes me cry lmao. Are you someone who enjoys stand-up comedy? Yep. What’s one thing that scares you about living alone and being independent? A lot of things do, but one thing in specific that I fear is that I let the house become cluttered and messy. I'm so shit at cleaning, especially when I'm depressed. It's why my own bedroom isn't even fully decorated, and we've lived here since I wanna say last November. If someone offered you an all-expenses paid trip to one European country, where would you go and why? Germany, 'cuz I enjoy the culture and would love to try some foods and visit places. Have you ever won anything on the lottery? No. Are you interested in the World Cup? I couldn't possibly care less. What’s the longest time you’ve ever been on a plane for? Idk. Do you let your hair dry naturally or do you towel-dry it or blow dry it? I use a towel to dry it some, then let it really get the job done naturally. How many of the Harry Potter books have you read? None. Who last gave you their number? When I posted on Facebook about going on a mental health hiatus, my good friend Alon messaged me her number if I ever needed to talk. I was really thankful. Are you often the last one to understand a joke? Honestly yeah. I'm slow to grasp a lot of things. Your first black eye: Did you give it or get it? Never gotten or given one. Have you ever slept in a tent, indoors or out? Yes to both. Are you mad right now? I'm annoyed, but not mad. Are you allergic to nuts or dairy products? No. Has anyone ever called the cops on you? No. Do you ever actually drink milk alone? Yeah, I love milk. Do you have a sensitive gag reflex? It is EXTREMELY sensitive. What was the last situation to upset you? I'd rather not talk about it. Have you ever had an online argument? I have been heavily active on the Internet since I was like, 11. Maybe younger. I have been in plenty. Are you at risk for any medical issues? A lot of heart problems run in my family. I'm also suspicious I may develop diabetes, which also runs very heavily in my family. What were you doing at 7:00 a.m.? Surprisingly, I was asleep. Do you own a robe? No. What would you consider your life to be? A wreck. What is your favorite mark of punctuation? I like question marks. Who knows your biggest secret? Nobody. Do you think anyone has feelings for you? Probably not. How do you know? I just doubt it. I'm so unlikable right now. Could you go a day without eating? I don't think I could. I do not react to stomach pain well, and that includes when I'm hungry. How many bracelets do you have on your wrists right now? None. What’s your favorite drink? Strawberry Sunkist, but I don't allow myself to have it. I will DESTROY a can or five of it. Who was the last person that texted you? My mom. What are you craving? Nothing really right now. What was the first thing you ate today? An everything bagel. What was the last type of meat you ate? Pork. Have you taken any medication today? Yeah, I take some prescription meds in the morning and at night. Have you ever been to Hawaii? No, but that'd be cool. Do you know anyone who has diabetes? My mom, for one. Have you ever made a boy cry? Sadly. Who are you talking to? Nobody. Do you think you’ve ruined your chances with someone? Absolutely. Your parents split; would you want to live with your mom or dad? My parents are divorced, and I stayed with Mom. Would you strongly prefer to go out with someone of your own skin color/racial background? I couldn't care less. For you personally, is abortion an option in case of an accidental pregnancy? For others, absolutely. It's your right. For me myself, it's possible, idk. If I was God forbid raped, I probably would have an abortion. If I accidentally got pregnant in a healthy relationship, I'd probably have a "too bad, so sad" outlook where I'd suck it up and go through with the gestation because having sex and risking pregnancy was my own decision. Even if I'm pro-choice, I think I'd feel too guilty aborting, especially with the child being someone's I love. Is it a requirement that you communicate every day with your significant other (via phone, text, in person, whatever)? IF I had an s/o, no. I like to, but sometimes you just want space. Are you fetish-friendly? I'm not gonna lie, some fetishes are just too fucking weird for me. I TRY not to judge, because I doubt you can actually help fetishes, but I inevitably do sometimes. If you're asking would I engage in fetishes because my s/o liked them, possibly, but it would really depend on what it is. Have you ever cosplayed? No. I think cosplay is really cool, though. Do you support the exploration of outer space? If yes, would you consider taking a trip into space, or even to another planet? As creatures who crave knowledge and understanding of our universe, I do support space exploration, but I do NOT believe we should be spending as much money as we do on it. Taking care of the planet we're actually on is far more important imo. I wouldn't personally go to outer space. Is it okay for men to wear makeup? What’s your opinion of male crossdressers? It's totally okay! Guys with makeup can be super attractive. Crossdressers, too. Go for it. You’re in a new relationship and your partner admits that they have had 14 sexual partners. Does that sound like a lot to you? For me personally, yes. I don't even know if I'd date someone with 14 past sexual partners, honestly. I would admittedly question their loyalty. Would you let your children under 13 watch movies with full nudity? No. If someone asked you, “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?” would you know the answer right away? I would. What is your opinion concerning strip clubs? Not my scene at all, but so long as you respect the dancers, whatever. You do you.
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Checking in! I know you've been having a hard time lately with physical and mental health. You don't need to answer this if you don't want to but youre going to be alright. Take care of yourself make sure you're taking meds if you need them. Stay safe okay!!!
Thank you sweet heart! I really appreciate you checking up 💓😇 Im doing much better today :) I finally got some sleep after two days and had a calm and good day 🤍🤍🧚🏻♂️💆🏻♀️🕊 I made some art, did a study on fungi and their shapes and did a lot of productive things like cleaning up and reading and writing :) my body is extremely sore like everywhere but I don’t mind as long as I’m not in full panic mode constantly. That happens occasionally. I take my meds exactly as prescribed every single day! I know myself and I know how important it is to be consistent with what I am putting in my body because my body is incredibly sensitive to changes, especially chemical ones. Therefore, its not withdrawal from medication, things would be much much MUCH worse if that was the case. I’m talking crying endlessly every waking minute and not being able to stop, calm down or self-soothe and suicidal ideation that I can’t shake, severe brain zaps every 2-5 minutes, feeling hot, nauseous, restless, sometimes I’ll get like muscle aches and spasms, and bad depression as well as all of my severe and unmanageable ocd symptoms immediately flooding back. Those rare times when I accidentally run out of medication or when I’m not able to take it for a few days for whatever reason, make me realize just how much my medication is helping and how much of a difference it makes. I’m like damn I must have felt SO horrible before I was prescribed.. or it’s likely that it wasn’t really that bad before but since my body is now used to receiving the medication every day it becomes that bad when I don’t take it for like 72 hours. Its kind of sad bc I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to stop taking it. Idk about anybody else but honestly I think I would rather take one little pill daily than experience awful constant panic, hysterical crying, deep fear and impending doom. It’s worth it for me. Of course everyone is different and the medication that has been life-changing for me could very well make the next person feel suicidal. Everybody has different brain chemistry and unfortunately it takes some trial and error to find what works for you but I think (depending on the situation ofc) it is worth it to give it a try. So sorry for rambling, that’s just how my mind works lol. I think of one thing and a million other things stem from that. I don’t know if people understand this but when I say I have racing thoughts I mean seriously RACING thoughts. Nonstop, super ‘loud’ and intrusive thoughts bombarding my brain from every angle that are very very difficult to turn off or soothe. Anyway all in all I am doing well and I am staying as safe as possible. I was thinking about it today and honestly considering my situation and everything I have been through, I am doing extremely well and I am incredibly healthy. For somebody in my position, with my trauma, having being stalked and harassed daily for the past four years by somebody who knows about my trauma, the false sense of loneliness, severe depression, panicky tendencies, unbridled stress, negative surroundings, patterns of thinking, memories of abuse and the ways that has taught me to view myself, as well as the various mental illnesses I am constantly combatting, I’m excelling all things considered lol.
If anybody actually read this this far thank you SO much you’re an angel and I appreciate you caring about me and my wellbeing more than you know. I really really hope everybody is having a beautiful day and that you are all in a position in life that is comfortable and safe.
#I am okay!! thank you so much for asking#she’s over sharing again#me#Personal#body pain#checking up#mood#julia status report#lol#racing thoughts#anxiety#medication#Paxil#paroxetine#antidepressants#anti anxiety medication#ocd#ocd meds#obsessive compulsive disorder#nonstop racing thoughts#checking in#how i’m feeling now#mental wellness#mental health#thank you for reading#m
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Diary of a Junebug
A regal gyroid adventure
What a wonderful day for gyroid hunting! The crisp air and the cool breeze makes me want to sit by a tree and snuggle up with a cup of tea. I think this is by far my favorite type of weather - slightly cloudy skies with sunlight creeping through and gentle breezes with a slight chill.
We’ve got some old friends from Rosevine with us - Almie and Pippa! Daisy Jane and Almie were the unlikely pair in high school - as in you wouldn’t think that they were close friends based on their personalities. Almie’s very much an extrovert, one who jumps into things without really thinking it through, someone who’s always looking for excitement and adventure. He tends to get in over his head sometimes but that’s what we love about him. Pippa, on the other hand, is a total introvert, the kind of person who likes to stay in her comfort zone and stick with what works. Although they’re almost total opposites, Almie and Pippa are very close - even more so after what they’ve been through.
There’s also another Medina sibling - Alon - who’s absolutely nothing like his family. While Almie and Daisy Jane are the unlikely duo, Alon and Mae are two sides of the same coin. Let’s just say that if Alon or Mae were here, most of us wouldn’t be having a good time.
This gyroid event is a regal themed one. The designs were a collaborative thing between Daisy Jane, Celinda, and Manda. It’s a mix of baroque, rococo, and vintage with a touch of modern - a totally fresh and unique spin on regal themed furniture. Having Daisy Jane help design gyroid items was the best thing to ever happen at the camp.
Almie’s been meaning to visit the camp for a while and he was going to help Daisy Jane move into the cabin until a family emergency pulled him away at the last minute. It’s been a rough year for the Medinas, especially for Pippa. The trip was kinda spontaneous but Almie felt that his sister really needed an escape - specifically a low-key one that won’t put her health in danger or wear her out. Dropping by in the middle of a gyroid event worked out perfectly - also the regal theme is something that Almie and Pippa totally dig so that makes it even better!
In between gyroid hunting, we took the time to enjoy the weather. Pippa was content lying the grass and collecting little treasures to put in her memory book. It’s good seeing her again after what she’s been through. Daisy Jane and I were kept up to date either by Almie or Abbey, but it’s not the same as being there for Pippa. Almie’s certain that Pippa’s gonna beat the cancer and knowing him and Pippa, I know that no matter what, she won’t go down without a fight.
This year was supposed to be a big year for Pippa. She was gonna practice driving and learn how to use her magic - a trait she and Alon inherited from their dad’s side. It was also the year Pippa wanted to get out of her shell, so she made a list of things she wanted to accomplish on her sixteenth year. While Almie wanted Pippa to be more adventurous and carefree like him, Alon wanted her to consider her future seriously and start climbing her way up to success by training to be a powerful wizard.
So Pippa tagged along with Almie on his little adventures much to Alon’s dismay. Alon’s similar to Mae as they are super ambitious and strive to be the best of the best. They’re good at what they do but sometimes they get arrogant about it to the point where they actively make others feel bad for not being as accomplished or busy as they are. To appease Alon, Pippa agreed to vigorous training, which ended up taking a toll on her physically and mentally. It didn’t help that around the same time Pippa was feeling off, which she initially attributed to being pulled by her brothers.
Eventually it became obvious that something was wrong. Pippa started getting bruises and everyone blamed Alon as the way he was training her was not safe at all. He would shrug off Pippa’s complaints when she had trouble keeping up, so Pippa kept quiet around him. Almie suspected something was wrong but because Pippa didn’t bring any attention to it, he thought it wasn’t a big deal.
A trip to the ER followed by tests at the hospital revealed that Pippa had leukemia. They say that you don’t know who your true friends are until you go through something rough. Almie and Abbey stuck by Pippa’s side, Alon did not. Abbey was the rock, she was always the source of strength for her kids. Almie was the optimist, he was the one who helped everyone get through the days. Alon carried on doing his own thing, seeing Pippa’s illness as an unfortunate setback and was determined to get her back on track after she “got over it”, which shows how much he cares.
For the next few weeks Pippa went through chemo. She was released from the hospital and it seemed like things were slowly going back to normal. Except it wasn’t - not by a long shot. Pippa adjusted to the changes and Almie did his best to help her out. The whole ordeal made them closer in ways that they’d never imagined.
Much to everyone’s surprise, Almie began to take on more responsibilities by helping Abbey out whenever he can, taking Pippa to the hospital for appointments, and applying to community colleges. He’s still the same old Almie, but more grown up now, as he likes to say.
Around the time Almie was gonna drop by the camp to help Daisy Jane move in, things were looking good for Pippa. She still wasn’t out of the woods yet but as long as she kept up with her meds and appointments and followed safety measures, Pippa was taking care of herself. Then Alon and Mae had to ruin it for her.
Basically, Alon had enough of Pippa “slacking off” and wanted her to resume training. On top of that Mae insisted that Pippa start looking for jobs and wanted to do a mock interview with her. So they both convinced Pippa to take the bus to visit them despite the fact that she shouldn’t take public transportation because she’s immunocompromised.
So not only Pippa contracted pneumonia, her blood work was also showing concerning signs. Abbey and Almie were furious but Alon and Mae refused to take responsibility. Apparently Mae had a minor cold when she met up with Pippa so she got an earful from her mom - which thankfully Daisy Jane never had to witness but heard secondhand. As much as we want to give Mae the benefit of the doubt, it’s hard to take her side because she was well aware about Pippa and made a really bad call.
Pippa hung on and pulled through after that harrowing experience. There was concern that she was going to relapse, which while it’s not a death sentence, it meant that her future was uncertain. It was a slow and complicated recovery, but she lived.
Almie and Alon haven’t spoken to each other in the months since Pippa’s hospitalization. The two used to have a good relationship but things went sour after Almie dropped out of college. With how manipulative and controlling Alon can be towards Almie, you’d think he was older. Almie’s willing to forgive if Alon admits that he fucked up badly but seeing that he never took Pippa’s health seriously, a reconciliation seems unlikely at the moment.
Right now, Pippa’s slowly getting back on her feet. She’s keeping up with her usual routine of meds and maintenance treatments. Things are still far from normal and she’s nowhere near where she was before the pneumonia but at least she’s getting there. All she can really do is take it one day at a time. While she and her family are optimistic, they’re well aware that while Pippa’s prognosis isn’t exactly poor, there are some unfavorable odds stacked against her.
Pippa later told me that picking gyroids was the most fun she’s had in forever. Turns out that going on a gyroid adventure and visiting the camp were on her list of things to do on her sixteenth year. The list was something she picked up again during her hospitalization as a way to pass the time and give her something to look forward to when she got home. She might not be able to get her driver’s license or go on a rollercoaster, but at least she can cross off gyroids, camping, and going off on an adventure with Almie.
Along with hunting for gyroids, I taught Pippa and Almie how to fish and catch bugs. Almie enjoyed chasing butterflies while Pippa had a great time wading in the ocean and picking up seashells. The good thing about coming in the middle of a gyroid event is that the items that take the longest to craft are out of the way so by now the stuff we have left to make take a couple hours at the most. Pippa was fascinated by the whole process and it looks like there’s talk about Pippa and Daisy Jane designing furniture for a future gyroid event!
On days like this, it’s great to slow down and take your time. As much as I like gyroid events, sometimes it feels a bit stressful, especially at the beginning when you want to get the big stuff out of the way. Later on it’s more chill as there’s not as much pressure to get things done within a time limit. Pippa managed to cross off a lot of things from her list - as well as add a bunch of stuff that will be crossed off later - so overall, it was a good day!
Pippa gave me a copy of her to-do list that’s up to date as of today. It seems like a lot to accomplish in a couple days but I’m sure we can do it! Here’s what she wrote down:
Take a class at Happy Room Academy
Dig up gems at Shovelstrike Quarry
Cross-pollinate flowers
Bake cookies
Take a hike in the forest
Go berry picking
Sail around with Gulliver
Make hats and scarves with the Able sisters
Go stargazing
Attempt latte art
Learn how to play a KK Slider song on guitar
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The Rising Tide Raises All Ships
I don't understand people who are so ardently against social systems. Like, it's pulling eye-teeth just to have what little we do. I can't tell you how many f*cking time some MAGA cultist attacks food stamps or welfare like it's the worst thing ever but it's like, the ones who abuse it like you say, look like you. They don't look like me. There's always bad actors in any system, but if the majority carries on the way they should, then that system should function regardless. We know it can because it's being executed in real time, all over the world. There's a reason why the happiest places on earth, have the most expansive social welfare systems. Its fine to drive capitalism, no one's telling you not to work hard, but if we expanded those processes, everyone benefits. If everyone contributes a little more to the pool, all of our boats rise with the tide. I mean, seriously, if 2020 has taught us anything, it's that the systems we have in pace right now, don't work. They are easily exploited, easily manipulated, and completely counter intuitive to living life. There is a literal f*cking plague going on and our president is forcing people back to work and kids back to class because the economy. If that don't scream broke and needs fixing, I don't what does.
Free Healthcare means no worries going to the doctor. Paper cut, baby delivery, broken bone, or f*cking cancer, there'd be no stressing over how to pay those ridiculous bills. They wouldn't be ridiculous. I think in Canada an ambulance ride is, like, $230 dollars, average, depending on circumstances. In some places, it's as low as $45 and others, as high as $385. The average here in the States is closer to $1200 f*cking dollars. For just the ambulance. That's not even beginning to address the hospital visit and hope you don't an extended stay. These mother*ckers gave me a bill for close to $50,000 for my two week stay the first time I almost died. Bro, there's no way I am ever going to pay that. The f*ck is you saying? I read an account of someone going to the emergency room in the Philippines and it cost her $15 dollars. To see the doctor. It would have been free but she's not a citizen. More than anything, universal healthcare would force Big Pharma to price their medications appropriately. There would have affordable prescriptions for everyone. When I left my job, I lot my insurance. When I checked prices on my meds, just a single prescription was $400 f*cking dollars for one month's worth. In Canada, that prescription would have been $15. The ill thing? The $400 dollar one was the cheapest I could find stateside. I take five medications for my heart. Uninsured, I'd be dropping close to $3800 a month, on sh*t I need to live. Who the f*ck has a loose $3800 when they have to pay that much in rent every month? Insulin is, like, $300 for 10 days worth here. In Canada, it's f*cking $30. Sh*t's even cheaper in Egypt. Small businesses wouldn't have to worry about employee healthcare or anything like that. If you have more than two employees, the cost you save in insurance coverage is more than enough to offset that tax increase. You'd be able to actually pay a more livable wage, while pocketing more profit at the same time. How is any of this bad? How can you spin this sh*t as a negative?
Free education means a more literate populace. We wouldn't have near as many Anti-Vaxxers and Flat Earthers. Motherf*ckers would understand the science of social distancing and mask wearing during a goddamn pandemic. I wouldn't be so f*cking mad having to dumb myself down just to interact with society. If we follow the Nordic system, you get your four years worth of education, graduate with a proper degree, and get placed into a position immediately out of college to tenure in your focus for the next four years. It's not an internship but a real job. You not only get a degree, but you immediately start earning a living in that field, while accumulating experience. Once you complete your four year employment obligation, you can continue your employment, start the process over with a new major in mind, or you're free to travel abroad with four years experience and a BA in your pocket. Not only would the populace be more literate, more people would be employed thus stimulating the economy. Those that enter into science and engineering, would have to innovate in their fields for four years, minimum, so you'd have hungry minds creating the future, just like back in the day when “America was great” or whatever. More education, means more jobs, means a stronger economy, means less crime. Again, how is this a bad thing? You wouldn't even have to do away with private college or studying whatever you want. If there wasn't a free program to take advantage of, just pay for your classes. I'm sure there'd still be grants and scholarship and financial aid available for aspiring painters or wannabe film makers, or any number of vanity degrees. F*ck it, man, if you want to go to Harvard just for the clout, you can still totally do that. F*ck, dude, you can do it after getting your free degree even. Graduate school, bro. Motherf*cker can be making six figures paying that stupid, clout chasing, tuition out of pocket because you can afford it with the job you got with that free degree. That's the beauty of the Nordic system; Everyone gets what they want.
That's just the surface of these benefits. I'm not even going to go into what universal income, maternity leave, vacation time, strong unions, and subsidized child care. I'm not even going to touch on how prisons over there are built to rehabilitate, not to humiliate and effectively enslave. For Profit prisons are the modern plantations. Look that sh*t up. I'm not even going to go into detail about the benefits collective legalization for all drugs and how crime plummeted because of it, or how they treat addiction like a mental illness and not a criminal offense, or the way they house their homeless and treat them humanely, while transitioning them into society with counseling, job placement, and social work. All of this, for, maybe, an extra hundred or two a year. That's, what? An extra $30 a month out of your check? Less than $10 a f*cking week? That one trip to Starbucks. That's two Quarter-Pounders. That's nothing. How does that math not work? How do these universal benefits, not jive with everyone? How does this sh*t not make sense to people, when you can see it working the world over? The illest thing in this whole situations is the fact that we, as the US, have absolutely more than enough to implement this system, this type of social democracy which benefits everyone, if we just rearranged our budget. Admittedly, we couldn't just implement the healthcare out the box. I mean, we could, but that would entail getting motherf*ckers who make trillions, like Amazon, Facebook, and Tesla as well as Zuckerberg, Musk, and Bezos, to pay their fair share without circumventing said responsibilities Corporate Welfare is crippling the working American and people are too dumb to even pay attention to it, distracted by buzzwords like “communism” and “immigrant.” So we do the free education thing first. That's only $4 billion a year. I checked. That's pittance compared to the defense budget.
Motherf*ckers wouldn't even need to “tax the rich” or “hold them accountable” if we just cut the defense budget. We can keep pretending that trickle down works and that Wall Street works for us and not corporate gluttons and that Reaganomics works, and whatever else the conservatives want us all to believe. Whatever, right? The US spends $650 billion on defense. That is, quite literally, $400 billion more than the next country, China. The rest of the world, minus the US and China, spends a collective $831 billion. That's an average of less than $50 billion a year, worldwide. F*ck, if you add China back into that, it's still less than $65 billion a year. Did i mention that these are yearly budgets? And these are old numbers. My guy, we can afford to drop a few billion of that defense budget. We can probably skim $50 billion and enrich a lot of people's lives but we don't even need that much. Drop $4 billion off of that gratuitous $650 tril, and you can fund free education for everyone. Following the Nordic system, that means more jobs. That means more taxes. That means a better economy and more revenue to implement the universal health care, which would further lessen the burden of employers and employees, putting even more money back into everyone's pockets, which would grow the economy even more. Happy and secure people, spend more money. The only people this system hurts, are those hurting us with the current system. Are they literally too dumb and/or selfish to let go of a little extra and uplift all of us? How do you argue that math? No one loses but the people forcing you to lose right now, in real time. F*ck, man, 2020 has exposed this entire system and there are still people who will die for a country that won't even give you enough money to be safe during a whole ass plague and I don't understand that at all.
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I AM NOT FATPHOBIC
I know at this point in my blogging career I’ve gotten the reputation of being “fatphobic” but let me tell you something; I used to be fat. I used to be an overweight social justice warrior scrolling through tumblr, self diagnosing myself with all these mental illnesses. Guess what happened: I grew up. I learned what the real world is like and I learned it all first hand. Let me tell you a few things I learned about the real world.
1) Yes, people treat you differently. People tend to be harsher on people who are bigger rather than someone who’s a normal size or even someone who’s underweight. WHY?! Because, you are not seen as conventionally beautiful or appealing. There are some very beautiful overweight people but the majority isn’t beautiful. It takes an upwards of 2,000 calories a day to maintain your weight so if you’re 200+lbs and gaining then that means you’re consuming more than the recommended daily calories. That means if you’re gaining, say 5lbs in a week, you’re eating enough food for two or three people. People don’t pity you because you see what you’re doing to yourself and you demand to be considered beautiful. People like Eugenia Cooney are seriously mentally ill, who don’t see the damage they’re doing to themselves. Yes, I recognize people who are overweight have the same type of mental illness but let’s not kid ourselves. The majority doesn’t have that type of mental illness.
2) There is no such thing as medical fatphobia. I would know, I used to be fat. I was 147lbs at 4′7. I was severely overweight during my late teens. I also had the beginnings of MDD and bipolar disorder. When my doctor told me my depression would lessen if I lost weight and started to eat right, I did that and I started to feel better. My meds also worked a bit better.
Also my grandmother was morbidly obese. She was bed ridden for YEARS. I used to go to her doctor’s appointments with her and my mom. Please note my grandmother is a polio survivor so that affected her health as well. When I was around 4/5 years old my grandmother overdosed on her medications; we don’t know if it’s suicide or an accident. My mom and I have had many conversations about this issue and we both agree that if my grandmother had lost a significant amount of weight then she may still be alive. He quality of life would’ve improved so much. I asked my mom if my grandmother ever experienced “fatphobia”, my mom told me that if anything she was coddled for being as heavy as she was. She got high dosages for medications and was a doctor’s wet dream so to speak.
3) Your loved ones pay for your weight. Going off of my grandmother’s experiences as a morbid obese person, I’m going to add the effect it had on her family. My mom was a single mother looking after three kids -two under the age of six- on top of working full time, on top of having to look after my grandmother because my grandmother couldn’t look after herself. My mom put her life in danger every time my grandmother fell and she had to help lift her up. My grandmother weighed 500+lbs when she died and the last time she fell the firefighters literally told my mom not to try to lift her up because my grandmother could crush her to death.
My grandmother also didn’t get a chance to play with her grand kids the way a normal grandparent should. 90% of the memories I have with my grandmother are stationed in her bed. She was 62 when she died and my little sister doesn’t have any memories with our grandmother, and me and my older brother only remember the times she fell or was in her bed. It’s not fair to any of us that those are the memories we have of her. She was so much more than just her weight but at the end of her life all her troubles were caused by her weight. She was a special needs teacher and a middle school teacher. She taught for 25 years. I miss my grandmother every day. It’s not fair that she died so young.
4) Enablers. Cut those fuckers out of your life. If they loved you they would want you to be healthy. It doesn’t matter if it’s mentally, emotionally or physically; if they loved you, they would want you to be the best version of yourself. When I was overweight I found I was most miserable when I was surrounded by people who enabled my behaviour. They didn’t care that I was slowly killing myself. If somebody loves you, they’ll want you to be healthy. If that means they’re “mean” to you.
When my depression was at a low point my uncle showed me zero pity because I wasn’t doing anything to help my situation, I wanted to wallow in myself damnation and bring everyone in with me. He hated the person I was because he knew I could be such a better version of myself and he kicked me in the ass to become that person. At the time I despised him to my very core but today, I love and understand him and his methods.
5) Social media. Oh my God! Where do I even start with this one? Let me start with, you’re not untouchable. The F/A is an echo chamber of people pulling the wool over each other’s eyes. If you love someone, you tell them the fucking truth. If you hate someone, you tell them the fucking truth. If I get made fun of for being short then you get made fun of for being fat because that’s the truth. I’m abnormally short and you are abnormally large. Social media is the viper’s den of the world, you’re not safe. People are going to make fun of your weaknesses and if you’re fat, you’re going to be made fun of for being fat. Simple.
The F/A throws a temper tantrum when their delusional bubble is burst. Being fat is unhealthy and not pretty to look at. Now, I know what you’re going to say “if you don’t like it don’t look at it then”. But as soon as I voice an opinion you just have to look at the post, click my blog, look through my blog and then message me rude things. “But Kat, that’s hypocritical of you.” I KNOW! I’m not untouchable either and I realize you have your right to send me those messages, but I’m not holding a gun to your head and telling you to waste your time. This is where your delusional bubble bursts. If you’re going to message me horrid things, I’m going to ask just this one thing of you, don’t do it on anon. Show me that you have a thick skin and can deal with people having opinions that make you uncomfortable.
6) Habits. I know the F/A is going to use smokers as a scapegoat. Let me just tell you, I begged and pleaded my family to quit smoking when I was a kid. But as I grew up I realized people needed their coping mechanisms or habits that they do. For me, I have a smoke when I go out on the town. I also pre-game. I have the terrible habit of drinking energy drinks. They’re not good for you but I moderate my consumption. If I drink a red bull one day, I go two days without coffee. When I was 147lbs my diet consisted of deep fried pizza and junk food but I also did zero exercise. I wasn’t moderating my habits.
Also using food as an emotional coping mechanism is not cool. You shouldn’t do that because food isn’t meant for that. The same way alcohol isn’t meant for it or working out. You need to deal with your baggage. You need to face your shit and deal with it another way so you can get your head on straight and deal with your weight. Am I saying adapt an eating disorder? No! Eating disorders are a mental illness not a lifestyle.
Anyways, that’s my opinion on F/A and such. My inbox is open and all I ask is for you to not use anon if you want to give me hate. You can’t change my mind.
#fat acceptance#fat activism#fat#fatphobia#haes#anti haes#body postivity#mental illness#eating disroders#health at every size#thin privilege#fatphobic#fatphobes#health
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Roger Kneebone, professor of surgical education at Imperial College London, said that a decline in hands-on creative subjects at school and practical hobbies at home means that students often do not have a basic understanding of the physical world.Backing a campaign by educational thinktank the Edge Foundation to encourage more creative subjects in the national curriculum, Kneebone said spending hours engaged in virtual worlds was no substitute for experience in the real world.
Okay, you know what? I’m mad. Not at the interestingly named Mr Kneebone, but at the wider picture. Whilst the popularityof smartphones is real, there are still lots of young people out there making artistic things and being practical with their hands. I just think it’s harder for those people to get into medicine. You want students to be more creative? Stop putting up the grade requirements for what you need to get into med school. There’s no reason why someone with A*AA would be a better doctor than someone with AAA or even AAB. You need someone with academic skills, but getting good grades is more than enough proof of someone’s ability to understand the basics and work hard; they don’t need to have ‘perfect’ results. Because it’s hard to balance A levels and getting the high grades you need to get in, with the extracurricular activities you need for emdicine, and preparing for the entrance . And frankly, well-meaning older figures who got into med school when the grade boundaries were much lower, probably can’t always understand what the pressures are like today, unless they listen.
But Arts and crafts are incredibly time consuming and therefore difficult. And other arts that help with manual dexterity (say, playing an instrument) are also very time -consuming. Everyone likes the idea of a student who can play the violin or paint well, but they also like the idea of picking students with the absolute highest numerical marks; they want to have their cake and eat it. We end up with students feeling pressured to spend less time on creative exploits, only to be told that they aren’t developing enough skills because they gave up playing the piano or doodling to get the grades to get in and stay in medicine. But if you basically demand students have absolutely exceptional grades and ever increasing percentages in their exams, you’re basically guaranteeing that students who are creative will be forced to put less time into their hobbies or give up entirely, in order to keep up with the demands. Because there’s only so much time in the day. And most of the creative students I know didn’t necessarily get the absolute best grades; they did welll, sure, but the students who do absolutely best in exams are often those with very little life outside of revision. I’m a crafty person; I learned to knit, to embroider, to sew. I taught myself to draw, to paint, to create. I’m exactly the kind of former med student that is perfect on paper in this context And you know what? That’s only ever been an interesting aside in medicine; my skills and interests in that arena have never been valued seriously, because when it matters, the criteria always default back to things like grades or publications, and eportfolios are another kind of hell entirely. At the med school application level, hobbies are a very small part of applications compared to grades, entrance exams, interviews, and the entirety of your personal statement, though at least they are acknowledged in that context. Further up, they count for a lot less. The emphasis is much more on other achievements. Which is what it is; there’s a lot to be said about medical training, progression, and what we choose to value or allocate points for when it comes to applications etc. But the point here is that it’s not entirely fair to criticise people for not allocating a huge amount of time to pursuits that you don’t in any way encourage or value when it comes to it. I am creative in spite of being in medicine, rather than being enabled by it. If you really think creativity adds to medicine, then perhaps encouraging it, or explicitly valuing it in those who take the time, would encourage more people to be open about their interests, and encourage more people to keep up with them. Maybe this’d all be very well, if working in medicine itself didn’t crush the creativity, mental health, and general life out of the people who work in it. Many people I’ve worked with have expressed concerns with how medicine is increasingly becoming dominated by basic ‘service provision’ (i.e keeping the service running, but at the expense of learning opportunities or chances to really engage with patients), and protocols, and how the ability to think creatively in medicine is increasingly stifled because our progression is 100% about ticking boxes on our portfolios, which are surprisingly hard to actually do, because there’s just so many boxes to tick on top of working busy jobs with plenty of oncall 12h shifts. From what I know about surgical training, I don’t think it’s any healtheir than general medical training. There’s probably a lot that we could improve. And I agree, these hobbies and skills and being good with your hands is definitely important for medicine, particularly surgery. They are also just really, really fun in general, and it’d be great if more people got to explore their creative side. I don’t see the world as being separated between ‘creatives’ and non-creatives; I really believe that anyone can get into creative hobbies at any time in their life, and that there’s a creative hobby out there for everyone, potentially. One of my best friends picked up drawing again in her 30s, and I’m so glad she did, because it’s amazing how quickly she’s improved, and how much joy she gets out of it, and I honestly enjoy seeing her journey so much. So many people tell me “Ah you draw? I wish I could draw! I’m no good at that!”, but I think that they might well have more potential than they realised, if they didn’t feel put off by the idea that you have to pick up a hobby as a child, or else you won’t be any good. But that doesn’t ahve to be true, and anyhow, hobbies or creating don’t have to be about being good, they can be about enjoyment. But I don’t think it’s constructive to bemoan youngsters “not doing X enough” in general, or act like we’re divorced from all this. We, those in medicine, those who shape training, those who pick the criteria for what students get in, and those of us who shape society (that’s everyone, you included) also shoulder the responsibility. If we want students to do something, it’s up to us to facilitate that. To encourage. To give them the tools and the environment where exploring new hobbies is encouraged. To form an environment where students can learn these skills, and develop these experiences. I learned the fibre arts from my mum; many people might not have that kind of encouragement at a young age if their parents missed out on it. So how can we encourage kids into woodwork, or crafting, or music. Music is another rant and post altogether; learning instruments is expensive and difficult and it’s easy for a wealthy person to say ‘why aren’t kids learning instruments?’ as if everyone has the money to give their kids bassoon lessons. But in reality it can be hard to encourage participation in we need to think about how to encourage kids to try new things, and to dedicate time to hobbies, in a world that increasingly puts more and more time demands on us all.
#children#society#education#doctors#health#personal#my life#medicine#medblr#Med school applications#med school admissions
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Why you might say no to anti-depressants
I started this blog for the many women who tell me that they Believe Forced to take meds. They feel pathologized by the identification, such as a scarlet letter D, their name. They come to me because they know I'll work with them to make real changes which are at the center of their symptoms.
However they still have loved ones who do not understand. So here's my List of the best reasons -- logical, smart, evidence-based -- to say no to antidepressants.
Easy does it
As doctors, we take an oath --"first do no harm" -- but then we get Enticed by the seeming simplicity of a one-pill-for-one-ill model. In actuality, it makes no sense to take strong psychiatric drugs as a first line therapy. In actuality, I'd go farther and say that it is reckless. There is peer-reviewed study that implicates lifestyle options in melancholy and upholds medical meditation along with other powerful mind-body methods as more effective than medication. More girls are saying that they would rather begin by taking a hard look at diet, nutrition status, and their personal care regimen.
So how about devoting one month into a lifestyle overhaul and taking it As seriously as others may require a physician's order? Because you are worth it. Pharmaceuticals are dangerous
Drugs are dangerous and potent, and there is no doubt that Americans are carrying too many . It is called iatrogenic drug addiction And it certainly includes psychotropic medication. Do not roll your eyes. I am not talking about some type of conspiracy where malevolent folks sit in a room and plot to hurt people. I'm talking about how the world works. It is an alignment of politics, gains, and incentives. We've got a system which richly rewards individuals who prioritize commercial uses for drug research. Simple solutions that can not be patented will not get the time of day. New medications are fast tracked through the approval process too fast and dangers are ignored -- brief and long-term. A whole lot of what we will need to know about these drugs is locked in a drug company's file drawer cupboard. What has been discovered by these file-drawer studies is that psychiatric meds result in worse long-term effects than no treatment in any way.
If you are not signing up to be reflexively treated as a cog in the pharmaceutical wheel, that is smart medication.
How can a happy pill be so unhappy?
There's not a great deal of pleasure coming from these pills. Take a few minutes to scan the side effects Of commonly prescribed antidepressants and you might have difficulty lifting your jaw off the floor. Listed below are acknowledged and recorded reactions to antidepressant drugs.
Common side effects include:
Agitation, shakiness, nervousness
flu-like symptoms
indigestion and stomach aches
nausea or constipation
dizziness, disorientation, confusion
insomnia or sleepiness
headaches
low sexual drive, erectile dysfunction, problems attaining orgasm
weight gain
excessive perspiration
heart rhythm problems
muscle twitching or pain
shivering
Patients are nearly always told to hang in there since the above Issues generally improve with time. And if they don't solve, physicians start tweaking... they will adjust the dose or add a second and a third medicine. What they typically will not tell you is that things can go really, very poorly . There are other, far more severe reactions, including suicidal thoughts, a desire to harm others or self, seizures, and psychosis. The frightening part is that we do not know how to predict if you might be one of these circumstances. It's literally Russian Roulette, sometimes in as little as 1-2 doses.
If you are wondering how this is possible, I am right there with you. Part of the challenge of working with girls who take meds for any reason is that I am not able to differentiate between symptoms and side effects. It becomes a tangled web of physiological imbalance. They're worse than ineffective
Being a"good patient" can turn you into a patient for life. Consider these research findings, which I summarize in A Mind of Your Own:
There's no validated science which supports a neurochemical explanation for mental illness, including depression.
The placebo effect -- a complex physiologic process based on our beliefs about therapy -- is accountable for what we believe is assisting about these meds.
Medicines acting on these chemical techniques induce the body to adapt.
These adaptations are probably responsible for the poor long-term health effects of the cured versus the unmedicated (who introduced with the very same symptoms).
It is quite possible that these medications fail over time because they induce compensatory adaptations that wind up creating the reverse of what the medication originally intended and this worsening of the disease might not be reversible (even after stopping the drug ).
In other words, Trying to medicate your symptoms may:
Not help whatsoever
Make you sicker
Engender new diagnoses requiring more treatment, which generates additional, unintended side effects
Rob you of the chance to comprehend why you're symptomatic in the first location.
There simply is not a very good case to be made for their efficacy. In Fact, there's absolutely not any case. It is what leads patients to my door, since they're asking, is not there a better way? Ever try to stop?
Here's another dirty little secret in psychiatry. Starting meds is easy. Stopping? Not so much. It is like riding in a hot air balloon. Going up was a piece of cake but it does not happen to most people that down the trip could be a very bumpy ride
Patients are advised that reduction programs vary based on the medication, The dose, the duration, and previous symptoms. It sounds scientific enough. But the reality is that coming off antidepressants can be a horror show. Most individuals don't know that these medications are habit forming so withdrawal may be excruciating and feel profoundly... shameful. Add to the med mayhem that lots of doctors are not taught how to taper and the available advice is not very valuable. Harvard Medical School says:"There aren't any hard and fast rules for getting off antidepressants... some can taper off... in a matter of weeks, while some may take weeks." I'd even add years to this announcement. This should tell you is: A) they do not really know, and B) it may not go so well.
Numbed to existence?
When life deals you a few difficult news, realize that you're having a human experience. You're intended to work through it. What you are not supposed to do would be to suppress awareness and anesthetize the mind. Are you sure you would like to pathologize your pain with investigations and labels, and take pills to suppress awareness? That is exactly what antidepressants do. Imagine feeling... nothing. No sadness, no enjoyment, no pain, no anger, no love. There is something worse than feeling bad and that is saying no to what life has brought to your path.
You can pick a different narrative. You are not broken.
You are smart... life is smart and purposeful and we overlook That expansion and development comes through suffering. In actuality, when my patients cure from meds, all kinds of wild things occur -- they adopt babies, get divorced, move to Europe -- things which were sitting dormant, requiring saying.
People have evolved over millennia to interact with our surroundings with deep wisdom. There is a good reason why you're feeling bad and you Deserve the support and time to find it out. Antidepressants don't Work how you believe they do. They're a tempting fairy tale... a miracle-in-a-capsule that will magically transport you back to yourself. But there is not a single study that supports this myth, that it is Possible for the mind to be efficiently rewired by a 1 size fits all, Synthetic, chemical mixture. And in view of the risks, you deserve To try out every single safer alternative . It is time to empower yourself with A Mind of Your Own.
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