#ive been combatting anxiety by just 'doing things until someone tells me to stop' and this is one of those times. falls to the ground. etc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

evil-little-rodent · 4 years

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daisies, matte, lace, sunrise, combat boots, bands, messy bun for the ask game ❤️

woah thank you so much for sending these ! ❤️

daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life? uhhh. i dont really have one lmao, i’ve never really done or created anything particularly amazing in my life. i guess my greatest accomplishment would be my friends ? i haven’t changed them or done anything to them lmao, its just an accomplishment having them as my friends. they’re all really good people.

matte: if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? i would like to think that i’d try to stop living with such anxiety and just do things without worrying about them so much but that probably wouldn’t be true haha. i’d probably just try to patch things up with people before i go.

lace: when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you? i dont think i’ve had a 3am conversation with someone for years lmao but the latest one is a 1.30am conversation with a guy who’s a good friend and is also in my d&d group ! we were talking about the campaign we’re in and cool animals like the binturong and the hog badger. they funny looking but cute af

sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally.‘be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.’ it has a personal meaning to me for a few reasons - my mum has it tattooed on her. she used to say it to me when i was struggling with things. and it holds meaning for me, my mum and my sister as its quite heavily against my shitty abusive dad who’s barely in out lives anymore.

combat boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way? there are a lot of times ive been shat on where i just move past it cus im way to eager to please people and be likeable. im more than happy to be walked all over if it means people like me lmao. i hate being like it cus i feel like i have no substance or conviction for anything. idk its complicated. although sometimes i will outwardly forgive but hold onto it internally until it eats me up. sux

bands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way.there’s quite a lot of bands that have effected me in some way. im gonna sound super basic but idc, the 1975, lana del rey and billie eilish cus theres a lot of songs they have that i relate to quite heavily.

messy bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them.‘Oppose a social order in which it is possible for one man who does absolutely nothing that is useful to amass a fortune of hundreds of millions of dollars, while millions of men and women who work all the days of their lives secure barely enough for a wretched existence.’ eat the rich

aesthetic themed ask list !

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ghostryders · 7 years

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fall in love at least once

some Ryder family drabbles, mainly surrounding Ellen and Alec

warning this is the first fic ive ever written lmao its A Mess. minor spoilers, just about what happened to momryder but you find out early in the game anyway.

“I don’t want you to go.”

She is weak. Uncharacteristically frail. Vulnerable. Pale skin and eyes half closed. Speech slurred and tired.

But to Alec she’s still the strongest person he’s ever met.

Ellen takes his hand in hers, “Alec, it’s my time. Stop fighting it, please. They still need to have someone left by the end of this.”

He’s not ready to say goodbye. What’s the point in the years of work if it didn’t do the one thing you designed it to? What’s the good in spending so much time away from the person you love just to save her when you can’t? Was it all for nothing? To be a failed husband and a distant father? Questions. So many questions, but mostly anger. Alec was frustrated. With himself, with SAM, with the universe for allowing Ellen’s life to be cut short when it could have taken him instead. Everything felt like a joke.

“Alec.”

He scans her face, looking for the fight to live that isn’t there anymore.

“Please look after them. I know it may seem like they’re all grown up now but, they still need someone besides each other.”

He still hasn’t said anything. Doesn’t need to. Doesn’t want to. He turns his attention to the small widow in the hospital room, outlooking the hall, facing the responsibility avoided for so many years.

She was right. They did seem grown up. When did that happen? Alec was proud of them; but it was more than futile to tell them that now. His illegal workings in AI had tainted the name Ryder. Scott was stuck watching the mass relay, always out of grasp of the galaxy he wanted to explore. Sara was getting posted less and less, farther away and more dangerous low reward work than what she dreamed her entire life about. He did that. He ruined that.

Alec tried to imagine a life where he told his children he loved them and hugged them when they got home from school. He wished he went to their infamous laser tag matches, helped Sara with her science fair projects, and told Scott that there was nothing wrong with him when he got picked on, because kids are just mean.

Would things be different then? He tried to pinpoint where he went wrong. Backtracking to the day he met her.

For the first time his life, he was in love.

“Come here often, Doctor?” Alec somehow managed to be even more cocky with a needle in his spine.

“Oh, and he’s funny too.”

“I’m a man of many talents.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Ouch.”

Ellen Harlow was a patient woman, but Lieutenant Alec Ryder was pushing it, and she couldn’t figure out why. It was mostly playful, a bit of banter here, a bit of flirting there, but whenever he came into the labs for a biotics checkup, she found herself pulling at her clothes and fixing her hair all while asking herself why.

Ryder seemed like a good man, that god-awful smirk aside. Not to mention he was strong, an N7 in training. Very strong she found herself thinking. But not all brawns, he’s got brains too she considered as if she were weighing the factors for a pageant winner. Part of Jon Grissom’s team into that… thing; practically a hero if not a pioneer. Maybe it was the weight of her doctorate program and caffeine haze, among other things, that she didn’t notice when the monitor beeped, alerting her to remove the needle from her patient’s neck.

“Everything okay or am I just that distracting?”

“Oh! So sorry. I um...” She fumbled over her words immediately forgetting her current purpose in the world. Removing the needle a bit too quickly she scanned her eyes over the readings.

“Hey, I was thinkin’,” He nervously rubbed the back of his neck where the needle had been “maybe you could uh, join me for drinks sometime? I’ve got the weekend off for the first time in a while, would be a shame to spend it alone.” He rubbed his hands on his knees, the plunge taken and waiting for the water to hit him. It was the first time she’d seen Alec show any sign of anxiety.

“You’re blood sugars on the low side” Was the first thing she blurted out in response

What the hell is wrong with me

Ellen couldn’t remember the last time someone made her laugh so hard. It could have been the pure boredom only a road trip could provide, but seeing the normally serious Alec Ryder channel his inner John Denver as ‘Country Roads’ played on the local Sierra Nevada radio for the second time, followed by several Fleetwood Mac songs, and ‘Hooked On A Feeling’ (to which the only words Alec knew were the repeated ‘hookashakah’s) made her sides hurt.

Alec was beyond excited to introduce her to his parents, bringing her up to log cabin far away from the metropolises of modern earth. What started as a workplace crush turned into him meeting his best friend; Soul mate if you’re feeling dramatic. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the ring in his coat pocket, and making that beautiful girl next to him smile until her face hurt.

This would only happen to them. A guy trying to enjoy his honeymoon with the most amazing woman on the planet (8 months in the works between both of their schedules) is oh-so-conveniently interrupted by aliens.

Fucking aliens.

Alec knew the world was changed by the discoveries on mars, and his discovery of the mass relays with Admiral Grissom, but the discovery of an entire intergalactic community that’s existed for thousands of years?

What. The. Hell.

And now LT Ryder, was being shipped off to fight them.

Half the battle so far was leaving. They stood in the terminal for the fastest hour of their lives just holding each other.

“When will you be back?”

“I don’t know.” There was so much unknown. As much as an explorer he was, he hated not knowing. Not knowing for her.

“Alec Ryder, you come home safe, okay? Or I’ll kick your ass.” Ellen’s eyes were still puffy and red, but she smiled for the first time in a long time, and so did he. Alec absorbed as much of her face as he could, taking a million pictures and mapping her freckles like stars. What if this was the last time he ever saw that beautiful face? He wasn’t going to take any chances.

“I’ll call you as soon as we’re in range of comms. I promise.” He squeezed her shoulders, still taking in every inch of her, just in case.

“Love you, Solider”

“Love you more.”

“Huh.” Was one of those things you never wanted to hear from a doctor.

“Is everything normal?”

6 weeks along in her pregnancy, any patience Ellen Ryder had was out the airlock. She was beyond anxious for any news, and knew Alec felt the same. He was sat in the corner of the ultrasound room, twiddling his thumbs as if he was expecting the doctor to tell them she was carrying the first turian-human hybrid child.

“Everything is normal. Double normal if you could say.” The doctor laughed at her own joke and turned the grainy screen towards the expecting parents.

“Congratulations, you’re having twins. Might want to double up on those saving funds.”

All Alec and Ellen could see was darkness and…. Two little somethings. Two of them.... Oh god… two of them? I mean that’s amazing but we’re fighting to pay citadel rent prices and feed just the two of us; No, four of us now. I need to start thinking in fours.

By the time Alec returned to the present, the gel had been cleaned off and Ellen was shaking the doctors hand, with several informational pamphlets about multiple births tucked under her arm.

For the second time in his life, Alec Ryder fell in love.

22 hours later, Ellen was recovering, soundly asleep and pain free. And the babies...

His babies were the two most beautiful things he had ever seen in his life. He was overwhelmed by the parental instinct to protect and provide for them. He even found himself getting antsy when the nurse handled them slightly rougher than he liked.

They’re perfect.

Alec craned over the two the two of them in awe, almost afraid to touch them. Sara came first and was smaller than her brother by a pound and a half, something about him stealing all the nutrients, but he didn’t care; she was perfect. Scott came shortly after, already alert and ready to see the world, eyes open and hands grasping at everyone who attended to him; he was perfect. They lay side by side, sleeping soundly for the first time since they came into the galaxy.

This is what he fought for. A bit ironic really, that only a little over a year ago he was fighting aliens, and now he was living on their space station. His children would likely grow up to be friends with them, never wondering if anything was out there besides humans. Alec fought for their future, and now all he had to do was preserve it.

“And then I asked, ‘what’s so bad about AI?’ and they all looked at me like I slapped them in the face. Apparently, its pretty illegal stuff out here; Shame, I think its fascinating.”

“I’m sure its for a good reason. They’ve been here longer than we have, they know the rules.” Ellen said as she removed her lab coat and badge, scooping up the nearest Ryder jr into a hug.

“I guess.” Alec decided to end the conversation there, but not ending the thought of it.

Their citadel home was cramped, A two-bedroom apartment with a modest view of the presidium. Growing up in the Sierras, Alecs childhood bedroom had been bigger than their kitchen and living room combined; but on a place like the citadel, it was the best they were going to get. It wasn’t bad when Scott and Sara were younger, but at the age of 4, it became apparent they would need to upsize eventually. They could barely run yet they could both be described as daredevils; jumping across the couch, box surfing down the stairs, intense action vid reenactments- the works. He wished he didn’t have to work all the time. Alec took the job as an attaché expecting normal hours and good pay, unlike his time served in combat. But here he was, coming home exhausted after 12 hour shifts because ambassador Goyle wanted humanity to have the place in the intergalactic community it deserved. Alec couldn’t argue with that but, it was frustrating. He missed his children’s first words, and then steps. He only hoped they still knew who he was when he got home.

“You mean…. You’re dying?”

Sara was always too clever for her own good. Scott just kept staring, brown eyes fixed on the coffee table, like maybe if he focused hard enough that all of this would go away. Alec was considering giving it a try himself.

The silence was deafening.

Ellen shifted in her place on the couch for a few minutes, unsure of what to say to a pair of 13-year old’s who understand what a terminal illness means for most people. Alec felt like he should step in but he didn’t know what they we’re going to do either, and he wasn’t about to expose his project before he knew it could work. Ellen wanted to move back to earth, which they both knew wouldn’t go over well with the twins.

“It’s a little more complicated than that, honey. I’m not going to drop dead tomorrow. I just-“ She sighs, wringing her hands, wanting to be honest but avoid scaring them. “Let’s make the most of the next few years, alright?” She gives a warming smile but Sara’s face doesn’t react. She sits still and stoic, still processing everything. Scotts line of sight has moved from the table to his feet, and Ellen wonders if he even heard what she said.

And suddenly to Alec, It’s no longer a matter of ‘if it works’-no- ‘when it works’. It has to work. It has to.

Maybe I’ll do more of this?? probably not cause im cringing while reading it over rip

#its so bad ajjshdlhfgjfdd #whats writing even #alec ryder #thanks god hes a country boy #me:a #ellen ryder #ryder family

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interrum · 7 years

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June 22nd, 2017

Tried playing some video games today; Ultra Street Fighter IV. Kind of worked well, prior to that I was trying to abate the sadness I was feeling over a whole bunch of things. I demonstrate sadness pretty reasonably I think. There's not a whole lot to it I imagine, you tell the person you are sad or demonstrate somber feelings comparably equipped with disengagement and sorrow. Sometimes I cut myself but I have to have the energy to do that, today I didn't so I didn't bother. I like to feel that people sometimes view me as a person with only two emotions: joy and anger. If I'm not feeling one, I'm occupied with the other; this is a coarse debasement. I enjoy the full range of emotions afforded to normal people, I cry, I laugh, I shriek and feel great levels of intrigue; I even have moments where I am in love. For the most part I feel that I am pushed and pulled constantly under the stresses of these two emotions until I am exhausted and unwound, like a wire ready to fray under the slightest nick.

Anyway the day has only just started and I'm finding lots of new ways to keep myself interested and free from suicidal behavior. I took reading back up, much more voraciously than before and I even have a little journal that I like to write in, so as to make sure my handwriting does get better, even when it's not necessary. There used to be a lot of heroes back when I was a kid, people who would draw from their sadness and seek virtuosity in combat instead of fueling themselves with rage and wild abandon. With me, I think I can be like that, but I feel my sensibilities are really high energy, so there probably is confusion or dissonance between what I am feeling and what my activities suggest. I had this problem before when I was a small boy. Then it happened again when I was a teenager, and now it's been happening more frequently in my twenties. I feel like one of those sociopathic people who go to nightclubs and have a brooding aura that no one wants a part of, when really I am just sad and desirous of something humbling and cathartic. It was because of this problem that I took up writing and reading much more seriously, depending on the two to express sensibilities I was otherwise incapable of communicating effectively with other people.

I used to go to school with a lot of people who had this sort of mentality: "if you are feeling down it's because you're weak and unable to substantiate your abilities in the real world," the immediate response to sadness was not to get cucked or some other vagabond humiliation, lest you spiral further into sadness. So no one really ever learned how to overcome sadness, and eventually became prioritized by it and fueled by other fearful emotions. I wasn't really raised like that, I was always taught to express myself fully and wholly no matter what I was feeling, so I guess that left me emotionally capable as a person, this would probably explain why have such an eclectic social circle. When you feel sad you are supposed to express the feeling and fully. People win awards for being able to do this, many people are awarded great sums of money just for honestly expressing the sadness they feel inside. Would a pauper run from an opportunity to make money? Or does he no longer feel sadness and fears that his financial ruin is his own doing?

I'm an INTJ for the most part. I've taken the test over a handful of times and I seem to be introverted very excellently. I keep to myself and am on top of my emotions with high acuity. My ability to plan and derive results from these plans is also highly efficacious. One thing I am bad at is playing with others as a team, I've since been trying to fix this problem and I have gotten a lot better at it. I can understand the emotions of others and use them to propel problems into places where solutions can be applied, but I am by no means an ENTP, I am most formally an INTJ; and if allowed, a silent ENTP. I'm not scary, very few people are afraid of me. I feel at home most anywhere, even if I get homesick very quickly I can maintain myself and my comfort. Maybe my personality would be good for sightseeing. I've tried sightseeing before, it didn't suit me very well.

Right now, my penis hurts. I don't know why, it's been like that for a long time now. It shouldn't really hurt this much, but every time I get an erection it is painful. Maybe there is a problem with the blood flow or something. I get to feel sad sometimes because of piety, other times it's because of simple failures in productivity. Sometimes I am forced into exchanges which are neither prolific or exhaustive, but I must participate or else things will only get worse. Kind of like how you could explain the fruitlessness of fighting with someone, and they still charge you, and even if you knock them out it doesn't bring about resolution or any sort of commendable answer to the disagreement. I've been known to cut myself, bike ride intoxicated, dangle in and out of oncoming vehicles such as trains, cars and buses, and I was often quoted to have done these things because "I wanted the attention." I probably did, but I don't really remember why or how. When I was young I used to cry for it, but as I got older it kind of became redundant and I'd only expect the worse, wishing for death or anything close to it. Sometimes people think this is a dark way of thinking but it really is a plaintive kind of logic. Not hopeless, but exhausted; confused but not bewildered. I could be attention seeking, but I fail miserably at getting other people to be concerned about my well being, probably because it's not the first thing on my mind when I am thinking about anything suicidal. That sounds selfish, well it ought to be. I wouldn't want to worry about the fragility of the economy if I were pressed upon a knife.

Oh, I hear voices a lot more now. I hear them outside, in the street, when I'm at the store, sometimes when I'm getting my bike repaired I hear voices dictating my actions or commenting on what I should be doing. I used to think it was just someone playing a prank on me from my computer but now I have certainty that I am in fact experiencing hallucinations which is ranked mildly schizophrenic. The voices don't really tell me to do stuff, they have small insouciant comments like "shit," and "are you serious?" I feel like these things nudge me in directions I am not comfortable, which would explain why I feel a lot worse lately than I should, but I haven't the slightest clue what I had done or have done to other people to deserve any of this. I suppose I am to feel a deep sense of betrayal and remorse, funded by anger in hopes of revenge, but an exhausted person is not a cooperative one. Even if I wanted to cooperate with the things I'm hearing, I have frequently run into the problem of not having enough energy to carry out each and every whim. So I'd end up more exhausted than I were originally and forced into creative submission. This type of thing was bound to happen anyway. The amount of pressure I get between home and anything occupational is insane. I went to this community college once and I remember the look on my professors face when I told her I was rescinding the class, as if I couldn't let her down because I was "too smart to fail," which was exactly the reason I was dropping the class in the first place. I can't stand being like that. I can deal with some pressure, but when the ends are undermined by the causes then I really just drop everything. I just don't see the reason in pursuing solutions that are created by the problems themselves. It used to be frustrating but now I just don't do anything anymore. If at the least, I'll try to give advice in the best way I can; which is to set an example of what I would do or what is preferred.

Back when my brother beat me up the first time, he recommended I take rispiridone to help with the anxiety, but I hadn't told him I was hearing voices (at least I don't think I was). After looking up the drug, it's something they offer people with autism and schizophrenia in order to alleviate the symptoms. It's an anti-psychotic drug, not a anti-depressant. Looking back I should have taken the prescription but I wasn't really hearing voices then. I was spacing out a lot more then. And then to make matters worse, he beat me up a following four times over those next three years, for situations that had nothing to do with him. I still feel he isn't all okay in the head, I know I am not but there's nothing sensible about that behavior to me. Remembering it would make me angry, but now I just don't care. I'm entirely saddened by the thought and just choose to distance myself from it. I used to look up to him for a while because there weren't many people I could, but now I wish I never had crossed paths with him in the way I did. Whenever he does beat me up my mom just kind of watches and expects the worst only after I've resigned myself to the beating. One time he just kept punching me after I stopped fighting back for a whole two minutes, the headache was unreal. Then I had to be taken to a hospital and spend the night there because my family was "worried" or something. I've been to the hospital by parsons three times now I think. The first time was the worst. The second time I went, I got a totally different evaluation which said I had nothing wrong with me. I don't remember the third time so it probably hasn't happened. I wanted to talk to the doctor about my cutting and suicidal behavior but they kind of carted me out of there on my own volition. As soon as you say you're ready to go they go back to their work and find you an ambulette. I still have the papers from the hospital visit, and the report is still with the precinct that took me so I could file a complaint if I wanted, but I figured it would iron itself out somehow.

I grew up being a misfit, I was a misfit at home and at school and at summer camp. I went into high school not quite fitting in and made friends on the bias that pushed us together. I don't think there's a better way to explain that people are forced into sociable circles, but that was the way I had developed. Even after expressing a very reasonable range of abilities, failing to excel in those that people cared about made me less of a interesting person to talk to; then again people who naturally excel in these areas aren't very interesting to talk to either so I guess that's the kind of game being played. I don't think I'm really bad at making friends. I have a hard time keeping them but as I get older I think it's less to do with my inability and failings as a person. I used to think I couldn't keep friends because I was always so quiet and only watched others, but that wouldn't change the way people depend on me. Maybe it's because they expect me to say something, even during something idle like walking home, and I'm content with just saying hi. I know what that feels like, but it's really not going to get either of us anywhere by being insincere. It could also be a guilty meditation that forces me to feel like these relationships fail, but I have been trying to feel less guilty about stuff that isn't my fault. For the most part I feel no remorse for anything I've done, partly because I did it in full belief and also because there isn't anyone else to blame. I used to regret everything: asking girls out, requesting money for food, buying food for friends, talking to friends, hanging out with friends. Everything came with regret and at some point I just gave up trying to categorize it all and told myself it didn't make sense. It wasn't worth it. Neither the blame or the fatigue. Now I live more guilt free and have nothing to fear, but it's also an empty life. Nothing shines in its original color anymore, all my favorite events are dulled out and less enjoyable than they used to be. Regret shouldn't have that kind of power over me but it did establish a great deal of roller coaster relationships, most of which were imparted on me and forced me to behave like one, a roller coaster.

My brother would always say there are three things he doesn't like to talk about: sex, politics and love (or something to that effect). I think he was saying those are touchy subjects. Politics are touchy because they can put you in places that you don't want to be. Even if you're not doing anything wrong and participating exactly how you should be, you are a force that others will find disparaging and offensive. Simply talking about politics is another hurdle in itself, imagine being offensive and having the gall to communicate about how offensive you are; it's heretical. I think that was predominantly the point, but I could be wrong. Anyway, politics to me is a topic that bears no weight. I'll talk about most anything because it's just who I am, but more and more I find myself unable to comment on anything effectively. Simply concluding a small matter in sociological development doesn't fix the problem, no matter how biting the comment. Eventually I got into the mode of trying to fix these problems with large sums of examples and argumentative practices, which both proved very useful. I was never good at teaching other people how to do things, but apparently I was really exceptional for setting an example for how things should and shouldn't be done, so I used this to my effect without much effort. I think I may be destructive to my environment because I'm like this. Due to my inability or refusal to commit to pithy events that don't fix the problem, I'm causing the problem much more exposure which makes people upset a lot of the time. But I don't want to whine and complain the problem away, I want to fix it. There's nothing to be gained from expecting life to bend over for you. It sounds really pious and noble which is another failure of my personality but I'd rather not fix problems that were created solely for the solutions existence. Can you imagine a problem that's been engineered solely to bring about a convenient solution or worse, a profitable one?

#june 22nd #2017

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