#ive been having consistent panic/anxiety attacks nearly every day

[skylightdistraction]

-

[smalltragedy]

* herman tommeraas, cis man + he/him | you know donovan mercer, right? they’re twenty one, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, four months? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to ice boy by corbin like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole fear hidden behind a stoic stare, bleeding from your nose and from your gums, and the night sky with all its stars, with all its mystery and unknown thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is march 15th, so they’re a pisces, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( james, 21, est, they/them )

looks away as i finally post his intro after being kinda awol fr however long. i love him a lot n hes also bri’s character mercy’s younger brother so u hv to be nice to him. think abt mercy’s life. then think abt ducky. im sry in advance tht his intro’s a little longer ive hd ducky fr like. a year or two n i’ve been playing him a While <3 as always like this if u’d like 2 plot n i’ll try 2 msg u bck bt otherwise im gna just hop right into threads bc obv i need to. change my methods.

ABUSE, VIOLENCE, DRUG ABUSE, EYE INJURY, GANG MENTIONS TW.

mini playlist.

father ;; the front bottoms / ice boy ;; corbin / lose yourself ;; eminem / my own worst enemy ;; lit / say it ain’t so ;; weezer / maps ;; yeah yeah yeahs / star stopping ;; lil peep / benz truck ;; lil peep / trauma ;; nf / northern downpour ;; panic! at the disco / your graduation ;; modern baseball.

statistics.

full name: donovan mercer.

nickname(s): ducky.

birthday: march 15th, 1999.

zodiac: pisces sun, aquarius moon, aquarius ascending.

mbti & temperament: intp & theorist / phlegmatic.

label: the despondent.

hometown: hell’s kitchen, new york.

sexuality: bisexual (bt not out). 

pinterest.

biography.

born in hell’s kitchen to vinny mercer and a mother who ran out of the hospital as fast as she could, as soon as she was able. she’d gone so quick that she’d never given ducky a middle name - just donovan. the younger brother of mercy (shoutout 2 bri)

his father’s the right-hand man of a well known mob boss named lars amaretto, and so, you can imagine the kind of environment ducky (& mercy) grew up in. weapon & drug dealings, interrogations, violence around every corner. a brutal way of living, no place to raise two children.

implied abuse tw // their father was not kind, or merciful - and ducky was a runt compared to mercy, small and sensitive and kinder than his brother. weak, and filled with softness, with big brown eyes and a smile that should’ve been able to melt ice - but it didn’t. and it never did.

he cried often, and was punished often for it until he learned to stop crying - at least in front of their father, and mercy too, at some point. only in the comfort of his room, with doors locked and blinds drawn closed. implied abuse end of tw

he dreamed, too, dreamt often. he’d been obsessed with outer space since childhood, as long as he could remember. school had once shown man landing on the moon, and ducky wanted that. wanted to be that, wanted to be there, up with the stars, discovering the unthinkable.

abuse mention // but it was discouraged, heavily so - projects destroyed by an angry fist only to be reconstructed to the best of ducky’s ability, with mercy’s help, all throughout the night. he’d saved up for a telescope when he was thirteen, but it’d been destroyed almost immediately when discovered. not a day went by that their father didn’t tell ducky that he was, first and foremost, stupid - and would always be. end of abuse mention

to the point where he stopped trying, simply. he never graduated high school.

abuse mention // anxiety mention // anyways … at the age of fifteen, he’d have enough. he was sick of the abuse, the pain - the crying behind closed doors, the sneaking around, the constant feeling of needing to escape, impending doom, anxiety attacks in the shower and in school bathrooms and at the back of the bus where nobody sat besides him because he was - that boy, the son of that man, the brother of that brute. he’d been a teenager and he’d already been an outcast by all means - an outcast in his family, no matter how hard he tried to appease vinny, and an outsider everywhere else.

the plan took months of preparation, paper ripped out from the back of his school notebook and stuffed beneath his mattress, details of his escape from a checklist of essential items to makeshift maps of bus routes to different cities.

all for nothing, the moment vinny discovered it, the edge of a map sticking out after a rushed morning.

heavy abuse tw // violence tw // it’d been the same day he’d gotten the nickname - ducky - the way the wound wrapped below his mouth, and the way it’d begun to heal - puckered, at first, like a duck’s bill. a better name than eyepatch, at the very least. the scar’d run from the arch of his left brow, across his eye, down his cheek, and below his lip. his eye sustained injury, and not allowed to see a doctor about it, it never healed properly.

eye injury // corneal scarring, impairing his left eye. astronaut dreams destroyed, but not in a matter of seconds. in the matter of an hour, maybe more - and that’d been much, much worse. 

he stopped trying to run away after that. tried to be more like their father, more like mercy - more brutish, less feeling. spoke less, and less. spoke hardly at all, unless spoken to first.

still didn’t matter. still lived his days in fear, still knew it’d never change. nothing would ever change.

the mercer brothers have been floating around the north carolina scene for ~5ish years now, trailing after their father who is consistently chasing after their mother with no luck. they’re currently residing in palm motel. can we get a hell yeah?

personality & facts.

he’s actually very? intimidating? when you first meet him. mercy’s younger brother, with a criminal’s record almost as long as his - a scarred face and a mean resting face. it takes at least five minutes of conversation beyond small talk before it starts to weigh on your mind that maybe, he’s not as bad as he seems.

and - well, he isn’t. but he’s guarded - so guarded. more-so than mercy, because mercy’s quicker to anger, quicker to react, and ducky tries so hard to drown out the noise. but he’s not a robot, and his facial expressions can give him away in a second.

he’s seen what happened when mercy had a glimpse of something good in his life (though, it wasn’t actually good at all - mercy had someone, at least. at the very least) - and how quickly it’d all fallen, and so ducky puts a barrier between him and others. distant, as much as he can be.

it hurts, because ducky isn’t by any means antisocial. he doesn’t hate people - he wants to be normal, wants to have friends and a girlfriend - or maybe even a boyfriend, god - but he’s so afraid. ducky is, by nature, a very scared person. terrified to his very core. he knows there is always eyes on him, and mercy too, and he knows that nothing is worth getting someone else hurt.

you know him as mercy’s little brother, and he’s quiet you know that - but his name is ducky, and you think - he’s not too bad. and he knows this, knows the doubts. knows that it’ll get back to mercy, eventually, that his brother is nothing more but a pussy. so he fights more than he’d like to, against the guilt that buries itself deep within his chest with every thrown fist. he throws up, afterwards, in the garbage can outside. too much to drink, he says, rare grin - because grins are convincing, and grins with bleeding gums are intimidating. he learned that from his brother.

violence makes him sick to his very stomach. he can’t watch horror films, or even action films, without feeling queasy. there’s been more times than he can count where he’d thrown up after a fight, or after an interrogation, usually in private but in the occasional presence of mercy.

they fight, a lot, sometimes - ducky’s too soft, too weak, and it’s bad and it’s terrible and ducky knows that mercy’s afraid. for him, of their father, and his wraith. ducky knows that if mercy isn’t hard on him now, their father will be on him harder. still. there’s resentment, small but there, like the flame of a match. he doesn’t know what’ll happen when there’s nothing more to burn, but he doesn’t want to find out. he’s afraid to find out.

he’s still in love with the moon and the stars, and the planet’s - and their moons, too. its subdued, now, though. a silent passion - one that is often not watered, left for rot. he sneaks into engineering lectures at the community college, occasionally, or physics, or whatever peeks the small curiosity inside of him.

commits small acts of kindness when nobody looks. doors held open, the meals of elderly folk eating alone suddenly paid. picks up litter besides trash bins, and always cooks extra than what he needs and leaves the rest for mercy. it’s these small things that make him feel, just the slightest, better about himself.

because god - there are layers and layers of self-loathing. it’s a labyrinth, and he’d never speak of it - but he can’t stand his own reflection. doesn’t keep photos of his family, only a few sparingly of mercy.

a liar, sad to say. has little experience with. ehem. intimacy, and the bodies of others, but lies often and says that he does. mostly to his brother, but word travels quick - and he’s not nearly as much as a fuckboy as is rumored, having only been with a handful of girls, if even that. it’s better this way - if people know that he throws others away like they’re nothing.

he ghosts often, too, if he does get to talking with anybody. the moment ducky feels a spark, something pulling at his poor heart, he ghosts. he develops feelings too easily, too often than he’d like. has left many friendships without explanation, because of this. you know the priest in fleabag season 2? the scene where he comes to fleabag’s house? yeah. tht’s ducky!

has maybe half the amount of clients that mercy does, but he’s working on it.

pretends he doesn’t care as much as he does. pretends a lot, like there’s nothing soft to him. but a trained eye can see clearly through this. even so - even if you can see that there’s more to ducky than violence and drug deals - you’d still have to break through a dozen walls.

in the rare occasion you get him talking - i mean, talking a lot - he’ll talk about space. ramble off a dozen useless facts about dwarf stars and black holes and all of jupiter’s moons. about a video game he likes, about nothing and everything at all. but as soon as he begins, he stops - embarrassed. apologizes, shuts his mouth, disappears to wherever. anywhere but there.

drug abuse // has a. complicated relationship with benzos n xanax n a various assortment of painkillers. ironic bc he hates drugs due to. his chosen career n wldnt do most of what they sell, bt yknow. this ws inevitable. hates beer bt forces himself 2 drink it bc toxic masculinity probably man idk.

overall just … he’s a soft boy, with a big heart - bigger than anybody else in his family, that’s for sure, but his exterior is far different than that, and it’s hard to tell.

violence mention // purposely loses fights so that he doesn’t have to severely hurt someone. because sometimes he just - he was raised in a violent environment, and sometimes he snaps. sometimes ducky just fucking snaps. and his vision goes red, and he can’t control himself - because need to survive kicks in, and violence is all he knows. if someone pushes ducky - pushes him enough, he breaks. he fights back. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows, and that’s not an excuse - and he knows this, and god, he’s so tired. he is so. tired.

wanted plots.

u look good tonight ... ;; wld love a connection in which he is feeling emotionally compromised n maybe kinda hs a thing w someone bt hes like. very unreliable n kinda ghosting bc he is very afraid n it wld b maybe bad fr them to b anything other than hook ups. cld apply to smth very intensive or smth very surface lvl i’ll take thousands.

palms sweaty ... moms spaghetti ... ;; ppl tht ducky just hs fkn brawled. cld b anybody fr any reason. ducky prob lost n he prob lost on purpose bt also ur muse cld maybe kick ducky’s ass? cld b a fake fight cld b a real fight. cld b a npc fight n then ur muse cn patch up ducky? possibilities endless. maybe they hv a nice spaghetti dinner n both of them r both bruised up frm their fight. sometimes fights end in spaghetti dinners. thanks eminnem or whatever.

own worse enemy... ;; ducky needs friends bt hes bad at making friends n sometimes he fks shit up by pushing ppl away n self sabotaging n being a major cunt n sometimes he just ghosts bt hes always very remorseful abt it? this cld b a very like. up n down friendship of any type its just. where do they stand. r they friends. r they enemies. r they lovers? probably not lovers. prob just platonic. but still its the thought tht counts. 

and also ;; literally just like. anything. clients who buy off of him n like. casual friends n casual enemies n casual hookups. ppl hes ghosted. ppl hes embarrassed himself in front of. maybe ur muse tries to get ducky to socialize or maybe ducky is like. u are too much fr me. n ur muse runs off crying. endless possibilities all u hv to do is call this number now. 

[abtoddler]

Yay its finally bedtime. I put the vics on, and really love this NorthShore supreme over my normal night time diaper.

Im nervous cause in the morning i meet a new doctor. I dont like to think about all my fears ahead of me, i try and really embody my perspective of temperance and balance. However moments like this scare the daylights out of me. So im writing out what im going to copy and paste for my new doctor in the morning.

I have problems articulating everything clearly:

The reasons im super scared are because ive got nothing to think i will recover in anyway. The coldness, the discomfort; the burning sensations down from my knees, i cant move several of my toes, or feel much as far as pain anymore once the numbness comes on nearly as soon as i sit or lay on something.

The pain never stops, the golfball in my spine, the burning feet. And then all the horrible side effects of my ibs, digestive problems, and the pain of voiding stool. Which then causes me to throw up 1-4 times a day. Theres a point when i am feeling all the sensations of vomit, but nothing to very little comes out. The pain is what causes it when my entire body tries to expell the stool. It doesnt matter what consistency either. When the stool arrived and i did nothing to bring it on; it burns like its mucus and acid. When its hard, it hurts in different ways, and its generally this which i am trying to increase digestive health, but there are so many foods i cannot eat:

Pork- causes vomiting and diarrhea

Soda- swelling of my stomach

Certain fruits- cause immediate burning sensations as soon as they get eaten: anything with citric acid: lemon, orange, kumkuats

The lemonades, juice blends. Etc.

Some types of bread

Cereal: i had been eating oat based cereal like lucky charms, and got really sick my stomach got so much worse; this was three weeks ago, so ive been trying to recover colon health.

I need to know full food allergies so i can stop going through all of this. Trying to not get sick or be in pain every time i eat.

I have also stopped trying to manually control the void with an enema, or stimulating plug. And have tried compensating by taking chlorophyll vitamens to reduce odor. Its been helping, and has only been started in the last 3 weeks, when my stomach got so bad from the cereal (which happened in the same week that the roundup chemicals had been discovered in all oat based cerals from the major companies)

I have a hard time verbalizing a lot of things these days. Interactions with people outside of being able to sit and come up with a verbal or typed response. Its hard to talk to people, its hard to focus on conversations, its hard to process the comprehension of what im being told when im not on any medications. Its getting harder to interact with people outside of work, and home.

I practice mindfulness every day, i try and stay flexible. Ive gotten back to work and can stand for an hour or so, before the burning sensations and weakness to my knees and legs. The cold, the wet, was particularly hellacious this last month. Ive also noticed that my fingers will begin to go numb like my toes, when the upper part of my back (new area). There is also the sensation of someone sticking a sewing needle under my left hand, small-ring-middle finger. This sensation occurs a few times a day, and i wonder if its like the same sensation that occurs in my feet. But its super sharp and focused. So thsts why i think its something else. It doesnt feel like the constant pressure, restlessness, numbness, tingling, the “whitenoise” on an old tv if that visual was a feeling beneath the skin that never stops:

On my upper left thigh from my hip to my knee

On the outer side, has little to no sensation for things other then a buzzing: this occurrence was immedately after my radio frequency ablation.

The normal course of my day for the last 6-8 months. Where there is pretty much no deviation to the day:

4:30 am (last occurrence was on 4/11)

To

8:45 am when my alarm goes off, i have to wait for the feeling to return to my toes so i can stand up and get my day organized.

Within 1-3 hours of waking up, if i do not immediately get in the shower, and spend no less then 45 minutes-2 hours cleaning my rectum.

From that, i cant really eat much, or have much energy after. I usually take about 5 hours to try and get through as much of what ever it is, with out pain medication, so by the time my pain level is making it hard to focus, i take one of my pain meds, muscle relaxer, and benedryll to counteract the itching all over in random pressures and intendities, this occurs from 10:30- 3 pm and while the hour it takes to shower again when i get home or have to change my diaper. I have no energy left and sleep til 6:00-9pm. From 9-11 time watching tv with my partners. Then from10:30 pm i take all my meds. Then 11p-as late as 10 am, no sleep regardless of position, burning feet, numb feet, that burn. Constant hot flashes at night so by the time i was up its been 2-4 in the middle of the night.

Over the past 6 months, ive been running out of medication. If the day is cold, or if i have to drive anywhere, if i have to be on my feet. The one med i have when i get home from work, and then again so i can sleep, has caused me to not get anywhere with managing these sensations. There is not enough or its not effective. My doctors do not listen.

Opiates make me itch. Thats why i take benedryl, and hydroxizine to help reduce itching. There is mediation that they give me in the er to help, but no one has cared to explore if that’s something that would work for my vomiting as well which occurs due to pain expelling stool.

I usually eat about 9-11 pm each day as i try and have something in my stomach when intake my night pills after dinner.

My ability to drive; lasts about 20 minutes. So im able to get to and from single outings in a day, i dont have stamina or emotional endurace to go much beyond this routine.

I cannot travel, can barely work, walk with a cane, and have this is what my normal day is, and has been for nearly 2 years without reiable relief of any kind. No one seems able to understand how limiting it is, how much pain that never stops, how even eating or drinking the wrong thing creates even more problems.

Thank you for taking the time to read.

I dont have anything I can think to do next, i dont have anymore hope that i can go 6 hours without something going wrong. There isn’t anything ive been able to have reliable, consistent relief from since moving to san diego in 2012. Daily management has not occurred, from anything that has been recomended from the long term and my quality of life is between being unable to focus, or interact with others in a meaningful way, or without loosing sensations, stumbling on something, have panic attacks because of the anxiety problems from always being over stimulated to the point where body contact with my partner cannot happen. My skin feels like it burns when something touches it, i cannot wear much without it scratching and leaving marks on my skin, or causing more varieties of sensory hell. My shirts, pants, the pressure from then diaper if its not fitted well. The sensation can be anything from sharp like im being cut, or an another itching or burning in places where things touch me. I have no idea what will happen next.