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alywats · 4 years

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February 2021 Reading Wrap-Up

It’s that time again, folks. What I read in February, the month of love: Romance, poetry and... math? And in the last book of the month, all 3!

1. The Female Persuasion -Meg Wolitzer (480 pgs) 3

The first third of this book, I was trying to figure out if it was supposed to be ironic or not, then the second third, I was deeply invested in it *not* being ironic, then in the last third? Let's just say the ending was the worst part.

A commentary on feminism that tried to be self aware, but ultimately ended up as un-intersectional, lacking in plot, and predictable. My favorite character was Cory, I felt like he had the best moments of struggle and growth, and it seems underwhelming that in a book so focused on feminism and female empowerment, it was a man's story that stood out. This book seems like a valiant swing but total miss. Sorry bout it.

2. Shipped -Angie Hockman (336 pgs) 3

I needed some escapism and that is exactly what this Romance On A Galapagos Cruise novel did for me. Winter and the pandemic are both hitting me hard so it was nice to think about the sun and travel and falling in love. The actual plot and writing here did fall into pretty predictable and mediocre tropes, so I can't say that this novel had a lot of depth.

3. Dearly: New Poems -Margaret Atwood (124 pgs) 3.5

Margaret Atwood has a distinct voice that carries throughout all her writing. This was the first poetry I had ever consumed by her, and I was happy to hear that voice in her poetry. With themes of womanhood, climate change, and slug sex, I found myself fully engaged throughout. My criticism is only that some of it seemed overly wordy, making it hard to keep track of Atwood's actual point. I listened to Atwood read it herself, making sure that I wasn't missing the pacing or tone, and every poem fell into the same rhythm, which made it hard for anything to stand out against the rest.

4. Station Eleven -Emily St. John Mandel (333 pgs) 4.5

This was a masterpiece of pandemic fiction: it was very reminiscent of The Stand, but 800 pages lighter, and was still able to capture the humanity and nuance of The End Of The World. After I read Hamnet by Maggie O'Farrell, I had a lot to say about Shakespeare and the plague, and Station Eleven reinforces it: Shakespeare wrote in a time where the Black Death couldn't be ignored, and yet plague is not a central theme of his work. Instead he wrote about corruption, the hunger for power, the grief of losing loved ones. The Traveling Symphony in Station Eleven perform Shakespeare to the small camps of people who survived a pandemic:

"They'd performed more modern plays sometimes in the first few years, but what was startling, what no one would have anticipated, was that audiences seemed to prefer Shakespeare to their other theatrical offerings."

Whether during the Black Death, the fictional Georgia Flu, or Covid-19, Shakespeare transcends.

5. X + Y: A Mathematician’s Manifesto on Gender -Eugenia Cheng (272 pgs) 2.5

*see previous post*

6. Leave The World Behind -Rumaan Alam (241 pgs) 4

Is this a thriller? No, but it is certainly anxiety-inducing. Reading this in 2021 is hard, because the plot and the emotions it evokes are very near to reality. I loved the claustrophobia of this book, I loved seeing into the thought processes of the characters, and how relatable each person's priorities and analysis of the situation was. Nothing was known for certain, not everyone cooperated, hard decisions did have to be made. It was well done.

7. The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo -Stieg Larsson (465 pgs) 3.5

I am always a little bit skeptical when I go back and read major bestsellers, because I never think they are going to live up to their hype. And for the first 150-200 pages of this book, I was definitely feeling like this was going to be a major disappointment. But then, shit started going down. Yes, there are issues with this being just another thriller about how violently women are treated, yes there are some issues with the way Lisbeth's character is communicated to the reader, but overall I was impressed by the depth this novel was able to capture. I was on the edge of my seat, I kept reading because I wanted to know how it would all end. And I think that is the mark of a good mystery or thriller. I am going to be continuing this series, and I am hopeful that the depth will continue.

I think I also give this series a little bit more lenience, because the author died after only writing the manuscripts for this series, he was not around for the edits or translations, or to take criticism or change anything in later books after public consumption or reaction to this first one.

8. I Love My Love -Reyna Biddy (116 pgs) 1.5

This poetry collection is very much of the "Rupi Kaur" genre of poetry, which is not for me. I hate to be a pretentious poetry person, but "instagram poetry" where you hit them with a one liner that is obviously trying to be sooooo deep, feels so disingenuous to me. I just lose any authenticity that I may have found in the writing. Some of the themes here were great starts, but Biddy didn't develop them enough poetically for my tastes.

9. The Unhoneymooners -Christina Lauren (400 pgs) 3

Earlier this month I read Shipped by Angie Hockman, which claims to be inspired by or reminiscent of this book. And I found some great escapism in Shipped, reading about love and travel and warm weather was what I needed during this Washington winter, so I decided to treat myself to another. The Unhoneymooners was very similar, I read about love and travel and warm weather while I was in a snowstorm during a pandemic. It did it's job, but I wouldn't say it was revolutionary to the genre or to literature as a whole.

10. Beyond Infinity -Eugenia Cheng (304 pgs) 3.5

This is a fun book if you want a broad guide to thinking about infinity. I think the level of depth is great for both people with a lot of mathy background knowledge, and for people who are just starting to get their feet wet. My major setback with Eugenia Cheng's writing is this: she uses non-math metaphors to make math "relatable" to people who may not have had experience with the content she is explaining. But she doesn't use metaphors that work! I found it so frustrating that she was making the math she was explaining MORE vague and MORE confusing, like by comparing the natural numbers to a Great Dane puppy (??). I just found that those choices in communication made it less effective at it's goal of communicating cool maths!

11. The Feather Thief -Kirk Wallace Johnson (336 pgs) 4

I found this work of nonfiction to be so interesting. At every stage I was shocked that I had never heard about any of this. Science, museums, birds, fly fishing, crime, lying, eBay investigations, the moral implications of feigning mental illness, and what it even means to have a mental illness, this book has explorations of it all.

12. 84, Charing Cross Road -Helene Hanff (97 pgs) 4

What a sweet collection of letters. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and the ending was so sad yet so beautiful. Simply warmed my heart and I think you should read this too.

13. Strange Attractors: Poems of Love and Mathematics -Sarah Glaz, Joanne Growney (255 pgs) 5

More on this to come…. But basically this book is everything to me.

#February Reads #reading wrap up #reads #booklr #books

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elmaxlys · 4 years

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Just an anxious ramble

Again with the surgery, feel free to ignore, esp if you don’t like medical stuff and explicit description of panic attack because the post is heavy on that

So yeah, I get anxious really easily and I was a nervous wreck for the past week in anticipation of today and with [see last post] I just really got it real bad today regarding anxiety. (if you’re reading this, thanks again Choco for rationalizing my thoughts last night, it was super helpful and reassuring and hhhh)

I had to wait 2h30 in the room before they got to me so I got to calm most of my visible nerves and just day dreamed and stressed about the Jenny aspect of things but then this really cute nurse talked to me as we went and he helped calm down a big deal of my nerves but I’m still an anxious wreck and thank god we have masks on because it attenuated the hospital smell (which is really really stress inducing to me). Then bam he ditches me because I gotta go in the proper waiting room and he has stuff to do so yea i get on the bed, they take the tension and stuff, I get complimented on my nails (nurses and nails is a heartbreaking love story if you want my opinion) and she asks if I’m nervous. I say yes, really so, and she tells me “you don’t look like it!”

Thanks, I have experience masking it.

Then I have to wait for a while for the surgeon and anxiety spike!! I’m starting to feel really really sick in the stomach. Not the one I had until now that I could ignore because well that’s usual. I can’t move and I’m alone and I hear nurses laugh in the corridors and I’m feeling the panic grow.

Then I get in the block. Reassuring and gentle people, they’re very nice, they give me the gas, I start seeing blurry and-

I have a nightmare. Really bad. I don’t remember it thank lord but I was crying in the dream.

I wake up crying and shaking. I’m half conscious by then. The nurses are moving me beds so I can wait in the waking room and one of the nurse is trying to keep me conscious enough so I can, you know, move beds. Another comments on how she’s never seen someone cry that much as they wake up from anesthesia - another answers that “oh some laugh, some cry, really it depends”. I try to reach for something to grip, I need to hold something and i know, by god, i know there’s a hand right there i gotta grab it i gotta

but I lose consciousness again

When I properly wake up, I’m having a full blown panic attack. Like, i don’t know if I woke up from the panic attack of if i just happened to wake up in the middle of one i had while asleep but yeah - i hear a nurse in the distance ask for the time and another one jokes saying it’s the same time as it was yesterday and i don’t laugh like i usually would hearing something like that and then i hear it’s 10h52 - in any case i can’t breathe, i’m having a coughing fit, my throat, my chest and my head hurt like hell, i don’t have my glasses so everything is blurry, my hand is painfully empty and i try to grab something anything and there’s just flimsy and thin covers and the tears are making my face itchy and are blocking my nose so i can breathe even less and i can’t think i can’t think

a nurse is by my side, telling me it’s okay, it can happen if people are nervous before the anesthesia, I’m alright now everything went well. I nod but my whole body is shaking (really badly so) and my sobs are so loud and painful. i gasp for air but theres none and the nurse is still talking and i can barely hears what she says and she’s telling me to calm my breathing. Breathe deeply, she says. Completely empty your lungs and then take as much air as you can. I’m trying but despite knowing better from previous experience, i feel like my lungs are already empty - and also there’s no air around tf she’s talking about. But her words reminded me of the first (that i remember of) panic attack i ever had and oh boy that doesn’t help.

Just like back then, my vision goes black (unless i closed my eyes, that time. I wasn’t conscious enough to be sure now) and my breathing is so ragged i want to get up and run but there are stuff planted in my skin and the covers are so tight on me and there are barriers on each side of the bed. Plus my head is spinning as much as when i get a pretty bad migraine episode and my legs are still having spasms and the nurse isn’t there anymore i’m not sure i lost consciousness or she got called elsewhere and i didn’t hear but yeah i’m all alone i want Poilu, I want my dad but my lips are swollen and i still can’t feel half of them so i can’t even whimper it.

My mask slips under my nose. I try to put it in place but one of my hands is safely tucked away (it’s the one with the pipes in it) and i can’t bend the other one because of the tension apparel. A nurse puts it back in passing and tells me off about it. i apologize i couldn’t put it back in place, she sees my general state, says it’s okay and goes back to her business.

However, attempting to move my arm made the tension thing slip down and bam starts swelling up on the near-wrist part of my arm, no idea how it’s called in english - and boom, i’m screaming again. I can’t stand it it’s painful and it hurts and oh my god i’m going to lose my hand and oh my god i need it it’s the right one!! and oh my god someone is gripping me i need to get away i need to get away and-

coughing fit. there’s acid in my mouth. I know if it goes on i’ll puke so instead of taking the deep recommended breaths, I decided to stop breathing all together. It works until i have to breathe again then bam new tears new throat and chest pain, new coughing fit. I need to blow my nose but theres no tissure around and my mask is slipping again but i manage to put it in place and secure it there and I want Poilu. I want the both of them, one in my hand the other one on my face and okay keep thinking about Poilu, it eases it it eases it it eases it and i’m calmer now.

My whole body is still shaking, I’m still having violent sobs from time to time and my body is more tense than (okay i have no idea how to continue that comparison but i’m very very tense and i’m pretty sure my muscles are going to ache tomorrow). I’m calmer, i registered where i am. There’s still no one around but i’m calm enough to turn my head and actually focus my eyes to look. I’m in the waking room, I have 4 teeth less and there’s a few persons in beds a bit farther in the room. I’m starting to feel really really guilty about my panic being so loud but i literally couldn’t stop my body but now i’m trying even more to stay quiet. I can breathe a bit, I’m taking careful tiny breaths. My head feels clear, despite my body still throwing a fit

then bam the tension machine goes off. And i lose my clarity again. Then regain it?

then some time later it goes off again and it’s the same thing over and over again until my leg stops shaking and the nurse takes me back to my room.

The nurses say a chaotic wake up is normal if stressed and all in all i recovered rather fast but geez it still hurts

#i needed to get it off i'm sorry #anxiety #panic attack tw #hospital tw #surgery tw #ask to tag #there's a read more but yeah feel free to ask nonetheless #if you rb I will eat your toes and spit them right back in your throat then watch you choke on them #also i don't want to talk about it yet so pls don't message me about it

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lilith-lovett · 5 years

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Found Families - Home is Where the Hart is - Chapter Three

Third chapter. Here it is, this chapter has definitely been my favourite to write so far because I love family dynamics so if anyone has any fic recommendations I would greatly appreciate them to help me through my upcoming exams.

Masterlist

Summary: A look inside the Hart household.

Word Count: 5483 (I’m so sorry this is so long I got a little bit carried away)

Warnings: Child abuse mention, self-deprecation, homophobic parents mentioned, anxiety, ADHD, depression, PTSD, OCD, therapy mention, minor panic attack, blood mentioned, sympathetic Deceit. If anything needs to be added please let me know.

Patton Hart. His name suited him, thinking more with his heart rather than with his head. He had always been a empathetic person feeling much more deeply than most. Back then, he had been a sensitive and fragile boy constantly seeking out his parents approval but now since they revealed to him how they truly felt about him he changed. He was no longer that delicate, helpless boy but a man who now had a family of his own to care for. No partner, as his parents would have expected of him but three extraordinary kids who he loved whole-heartedly despite them not being of blood but yet their connection was undeniable. Patton loved his famILY.

Patton upon opening his front door after his visit to the Orphanage was met immediately with his two year old Declan sprinting - as fast as a two year old could - full force towards him. His mismatched heterochromic blue and hazel eyes sparkling with joy as he threw his tiny body into Patton’s stomach knocking him onto his behind burrowing face sticky with jam - Crofters most likely - into Patton’s chest clearly pleased to see him.

“Hiya Dee, did you miss me?” Patton said ruffling Dee’s inky black curls as the toddler purred beneath his touch but not failing to notice that he was still dressed in his green and yellow coloured snake printed pyjamas despite it nearing three o’clock in the afternoon.

“Dee missed daddy,” Dee mumbled stumbling slightly over his words still not fully confident with his slowly developing speech “Up up,”. Finally meeting Patton’s gaze making grabby gestures with his mitten-clad hands which prevented him from scratching and irritating the large, painful burn scars stretching down his entire right side including a portion his face.

“Okay, up you go,” Patton said lifting Dee with minimal effort balancing the toddler on his hip “Did you have fun with Uncle Emile?”. He received mischievous giggles in response and felt instant sympathy for his best friend. Dee was certainly a handful and chasing an energetic two year old around the house for any length of time definitely required a lot stamina and endurance something which Emile did not have.

Patton with Dee balanced on his hip he trudged his way into the messy living room with toys strewn across the floor, the furniture out of place and his best friend Emile sprawled across the sofa fast asleep snores and grunts escaping every so often and in his hand what appeared to one of many cup of coffee evident from the several used mugs sat on the coffee table. Looking visibly dishevelled from his unexpected play-filled day with Dee his shirt crinkled, tie undone hanging limply from his neck, trousers stained red presumably with Dee’s favourite jelly and his pink highlighted locks an unruly mess unused to the demanding nature of young children, taking the lukewarm coffee from his hands Patton jostled his friend who woke with a jolt rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Oh hey Patton,” Emile mumbled his voice still heavy with sleep stretching his arms over his head Patton audibly winced at the sound of the pops and clicks of his spine, Emile pushed himself off of the sofa drawing up to his full height a few inches above Patton exhaling a sigh of relief at the sight of him.

Patton and Emile had been the best of friends ever since their school days, spending more time with Emile’s family than his own and after he was kicked him out because he came out as pan-sexual to his less than supportive parents Emile was the one he ran to for help. He gave him a place to stay supporting him until he finally found his footing and even now was still figuring out ways to repay Emile and Emile’s parents for their kindness during the most difficult time in his life. Patton didn’t think he ever could.

“Have fun today Emile?” Patton chuckled gesturing to his scruffy appearance and considerable number of cups of coffee sat on the table in front of him. Patton couldn’t comprehend how Emile could drink such large quantities of the bitter tasting liquid, he after a mere sip was vibrating with energy and it left a rotten taste in his mouth.

“Yes, me and Declan had lots of fun today, didn’t we Dee?” Emile said forcing a smile at Dee while attempting to neaten his appearance brushing both crumbs and stains from his clothes, scowling at the jam smears shaped like a tiny pair of hands on his trousers.

“Ucle Emmy fell asleep,” Dee chirped giggling at Emile’s mock look of hurt as he poked Dee’s stomach playfully careful not to aggravate his burns inducing further giggling. Patton couldn’t help grinning at playful encounter between his son and best friend, praying that he would continue experiencing moments like these with his family for many years to come.

“Demon child,” Emile muttered underneath his breath contrasting the minuscule smile that crept involuntarily upon his face. “So Patton how was the adoption day, which poor soul was unfortunate enough to catch your eye?”. He had only told a single person his plans regarding adopting again, that person being Emile, unintentionally but ultimately he was glad he did. It had always been a dream of his to become a father and now that dream was a reality though not in the way he anticipated it but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Oh Emile, he is incredible his name is Logan and he is so smart and mature and the way his face lit up when he was talking about his books. My god Emile I love him so much already,” Patton rambled on and on about Logan. It was obvious the moment he met him he was the one simply by the look in his eyes, his straightforward attitude and the subtle glimmer in his eye made Patton believe he was worth it but he had walls. Walls built to protect himself from strangers preventing anyone from getting to close which made Patton all the more determined to care for him. “But…he reminds me of Virgil,”.

“He has a past,” Emile said lowering his voice to a whisper not to disturb Dee who had buried himself beneath a mountain of blankets undoubtedly exhausted from his busy day. His former light-hearted jokey nature faded away replaced by professionalism and an earnestness, Emile’s therapist mode as Patton liked to refer to it but yet a faint smile could be seen on his face acting as a solace to Patton.

“I think so, he made himself bleed in an attempt to stop himself from talking which triggered a sensory overload, like the ones Virgil had but I barely had to do anything to calm him down It looked like he had dealt with them before,” Patton explained struggling to prevent the audible tremble in his voice. He knew the moment he approached the apathetic looking boy sat reading, isolated from the rest of the children that starting a conversation wouldn’t be easy but once he eventually opened up upon the mention of his book all of the previous awkwardness was worth it to witness Logan’s eyes light up but that light died as quickly as it appeared, when Logan silenced himself Patton’s heart cried out for the boy. He dug his nails into his cheeks so ferociously Patton feared he may draw blood but once he clamped his hands over his ears and his breathing rapidly accelerated he knew immediately he was going into sensory overload. Patton was no stranger to the condition through Virgil’s own experiences though nowadays they were infrequent but however still happened on rare occasions so he was familiar with the steps to helping someone going through it though his assistance rarely required, he simply added extra weight in the books on Logan’s lap and Patton’s cardigan around his shoulders acting as grounding methods but Logan recovered primarily on his own puzzling Patton as for Virgil it often took up to half an hour to settle him after an overload however for Logan he returned to his cool composed state in a matter of minutes, mask washing over his face once again almost appearing embarrassed by the episode as if handling attacks like these alone were common.

Patton’s breath hitched and this time it did not go unnoticed by Emile who immediately swung into action enveloping him in a warm embrace knowing Patton responded much better to physical touch and reassurance to verbal, stroking his back with one hand, gently caressing his curls with the other until his breathing returned to normal but he made no move to push away remaining firmly engulfed in Emile’s arms.

“I just want to protect him Emile, he deserves a family,” He murmured into Emile’s chest, his eyes stung with tears but he refused to allow them to fall so to not alarm Dee. Patton had a weakness for children in difficult situations and circumstances and had an overwhelming urge to protect the people in his life and now it was Logan’s turn for someone to care for him no matter how rocky the path was.

“I know you do and you will,” Emile replied resting his chin atop Patton’s head “but please don’t forget to take care of yourself, after Virgil and Dee…I never want to see you that way again,”. Emile hands which had settled on Patton’s shoulders gripped him tightly as if he feared he may disappear like he almost did back then.

“You don’t need to worry about little old me,” Patton said plastering a smile across his face in attempt to comfort Emile, raising his hands to rest on Emile cheek brushing his thumb across the patch of freckles dusted on his cheekbones. He didn’t need anyone else worrying about him, it was his duty as a father to care for his family which included Emile.

“I’ll always worry about you little brother,” Emile reminded Patton. Patton and Emile considered each other family neither of them had any siblings of their own so now called themselves brothers.

“We are the same age kiddo,” Patton said though they certainly didn’t look it. Patton had consistently had a baby face never quite growing out of it while Emile flourished into adulthood much sooner.

“And yet you still call me kiddo,” Emile quipped.

“I call everyone kiddo, okay compromise I’ll let you call me your little brother if you let me call you kiddo. Deal?” He proposed stretching out a hand towards Emile.

“Fine deal,” Emile sighed taking Patton’s hand begrudgingly “Little brother,” A mischievous smirk playing on his lips. Patton rolled his eyes knowing he would soon regret that decision. “So, will you be telling Roman and Virgil they may be receiving a new brother?”. Patton initially wanted to keep his intentions to adopt again secret especially from his children until he was absolutely certain on whichever child he chose being the correct fit for his family which now didn’t seem so distant any more.

“Not yet, I’m sure if I told them Roman would instantly try and talk me out of it,” Patton said glancing to the collection of pictures frames decorating the once empty mantel place specifically to the smallest hidden partially behind the others of the first night with Virgil and Dee, nobody was looking at the camera Roman and Virgil who hadn’t ceased in their bickering since they arrived home and once Patton believed they had finally reached a compromise he brought out the camera hoping capture their first night together as a family but however he wasn’t quick enough before Virgil caught him immediately turning away from the camera concealing his face with his hoodie sleeve, Roman arms folded across his chest pouting and Dee attached to his half-brother’s leg refusing to part from him. It wasn’t the first family portrait he’d expected but it was perfect though Roman still hadn’t forgiven him for showing the picture to his Roman’s friend Elliott Sanders on his first ever sleepover. Roman had been an only child for so long and then he all of a sudden had two younger brothers which he took time adjusting to and it required him witnessing one of Virgil’s more severe panic attacks for him to at long last recognise him as his little brother but yet telling Roman he may perhaps be receiving a another brother he would surely oppose.

“Well don’t keep them in the dark for to long,” Emile said stepping over toys towards the window “And speak of the devil,”. Emile pointed towards the school bus steadily approaching the bus stop located outside the Hart house where Roman and Virgil would soon be getting off.

“Hey Dee, Virge and Ro are home,” Patton spoke softly shaking the sleeping toddler awake, well aware if he allowed him to sleep any longer he wouldn’t sleep tonight but he shot up instantly at the mention of his brother’s names making beeline for the door to greet them.

A short while later Patton’s eldest Roman aged twelve and his middle child Virgil aged ten arrived home squabbling as usual.

“You just have to seize your moment my chemically imbalanced romance,” Roman proclaimed dramatically as he often did, practically vibrating with energy his ADHD medication presumably having worn off. Gesturing wildly with his arms resulting in Virgil having to duck out of the danger zone to avoid getting struck in the face by a flailing arm, grimacing at the nickname.

Roman was the first to be adopted by Patton soon after he got back onto his feet with a well-paying job and his own home,adopting a child was simply the final piece of the puzzle of his dreams. Roman had been a rambunctious six year old given up by his biological mother at birth and had been floating within the foster system ever since. They had an instant connection with their shared love of all things Disney and silly puns that no one other than this six year old child seemed to appreciate but his seemingly never-ending supply of energy and inability to sit still regularly got him into a lot of trouble however to Patton he was perfect and simply a child who required an outlet for his creative energy, which he found in theatre kick-starting his passion for performing. Roman now apart of a local children’s theatre, had starred in numerous plays from well-known musicals to Shakespeare remakes and had obtained a small fan-following as a result and of course Patton attended every performance. With only a few short months until Roman blossomed into an angsty teenager, Patton had noticed some recent changes in him particularly in his appearance. His former auburn waves were now slick with styling gel and his clothing choices progressing from costumes - he assured Patton he was much to old for now - to whatever the latest trends were, most recently an all white ensemble beneath his red bomber jacket embellished with gold stitching and crown he’d asked Patton to add for him not completely abandoning his princely persona. Though Patton always thought Roman looked stylish his son didn’t seen to think the same of him, often embarrassed by his attempts to be ‘fashionable’ and had taken the challenge upon himself to dress Patton whenever they were to be seen in public together which Patton didn’t mind finding he quite liked Roman’s style suggestions but would always find a way to put his own Patton twist on it.

“What like you? I don’t think so sir-sing-a-lot,” Virgil quipped in his usual fashion, sinking further into his oversized back hoodie, cramming his gloved hands concealing his own burn scars into his pockets, music blaring out of his headphones which hung loosely around his neck playing some obscure band Virgil idolized immediately making his way to the kitchen shoulders hunched, his clenched jaw and closed off attitude was evidence that his anxiety levels were clearly on a high.

Virgil and Declan, Patton had been adopted from the same Orphanage as the two were half-brothers from the same abusive household and refused to be separated. Virgil, seven years old had been taking care of his eight month old brother Dee virtually since he was born but because of their complex situation they were relocated every few months, never remaining in one home for two long before both were sent away once again. Their first meeting didn’t go as effortlessly as Roman’s had, originally Patton had intended to adopt one child. A plan which had been thrown out of the window the minute he met Virgil who had been involuntarily forced into meeting Patton and undoubtedly irritated by the whole situation and once the two were left alone together Virgil made his frustrations known shouting and swearing before fleeing, saying that Patton was shocked would be an understatement and nearly walked out there and then but had a change of heart upon learning about Virgil’s troublesome past and his tenderness towards his younger brother. Virgil and his brother deserved a family and Patton would be the one to give one to them. So Patton came back the following day requesting a session with both brothers which went about as well as anticipated but once Patton put his mind to a task he wouldn’t be discouraged so easily, it took time and patience but they were worth it. Dee adapted to the new environment without any trouble presumably due to his young age and minimal memories of his past family but Virgil who had a severe mistrust of adults and to Patton’s knowledge at the time received the brute of his parents abuse took much longer to adjust but as time passed he gradually opened up but this wasn’t the beginning of Virgil’s problems, as a result of his trauma he had developed several mental disorders affecting his daily life he only had officially diagnosed and treated - a few different anxiety disorders, depression, OCD, insomnia and PTSD - a few months ago after suggesting he go to see a therapist for his worsening anxiety and panic attacks and though progress is slow there has been a steady improvement and he is now much more open especially with his feelings. Virgil had retained his sarcastic attitude and stubbornness and had a rather unique sense of humour which Roman often became the victim of but beneath his tough outer exterior exemplified by his dark aesthetic and choice in clothing distressed jeans, band t-shirts and his patchwork hoodie all in his two favourite colour black and purple is a thoughtful and kind-hearted individual who managed to find his voice finally in music and poetry.

“Hiya kiddos, how was school?” Patton asked as he did everyday when the boys arrived home from school though not failing to recognise Virgil’s heightened anxiety, positive Emile who was also Virgil’s therapist acknowledged his anxious energy too from their shared look of concern.

“It was splendid, in art today we finally got to make a start to our final paintings and of course I chose acrylic paint that was just a given,” Roman gushed rambling on and on about his day without pausing to take a single breath, enthusiastically motioning with his hands as he spoke. Excessive talking, one of Roman more prevalent symptoms. He’d made great improvement with his volume control and impulsiveness but he was excitable and passionate by nature and talking gave him an outlet to share his ideas though occasionally went a little overboard.

“Roman, remember to breath,” Patton spoke softly placing a gentle hand on Roman’s shoulder and the excited tension deflated as he released a breath he seemingly hadn’t realise he was holding but immediately averted his gaze to the floor shrinking in on himself, ashamed of his outburst.

“Sorry dad,” He mumbled fidgeting with the zipper on his jacket. A nervous habit of his.

“It’s alright Ro, I know your working on it. How about you tell me all about your painting at dinner tonight?” Patton proposed resulting in a complete turnabout a beaming smile stretching across his lips practically bursting at the seams with elation.

“Really, thanks padre,” Roman exclaimed a little too loudly as he bounded upstairs to where his room was, the skip returning to his step and Patton only smiled as he watched him go. Roman was Hispanic by descendant but living in an orphanage for the six years of his life, he had been brought up around English speakers and never had the opportunity to learn his native tongue but entering school had implanted the desire to learn the language and he threw himself into memorising as many words as he could. Patton had to admit he teared up a little at hearing Roman call him father in Spanish for the first time and it stuck.

“Virgil what about you?” Patton called out to an empty living room. Virgil, Dee and Emile all having disappeared relocating to the kitchen. Virgil sat cross-legged in his usual position on the kitchen counter for some reason having an aversion to chairs though Patton never questioned it and allowed him to perch on the counter if he joined them at the table for mealtimes, which he did begrudgingly. Dee settled himself in Virgil’s lap, plucking contentedly at the threads on his jeans while Virgil rested his chin on Dee’s head running his fingers through his curls breathing deeply matching each breath with the piano ballad now streaming through his headphones. While Emile sat at the dining room table with yet another cup of coffee flicking through some loose files peering at Virgil every so often his expression laced with concern. “Hey Virgil, how are you doing?”.

“Fine,” Virgil muttered into Dee’s hair. A common response whenever asked about his feelings in an effort to divert attention away from himself but from two years of learning to identify Virgil’s avoidance habits had given Patton the ability to navigate Virgil’s ever changing moods and mannerisms. Patton knew he was not ‘fine’ far from it.

“Virgil you know you can tell me anything right? Maybe talking about it might help,” Patton suggested gradually moving closer towards Virgil but making no move to touch him without his permission but decreasing the proximity between them allowing him to make the next move. Emile’s advice repeating in his head as he frequently resorted to physical reassurances which often only panicked Virgil further unless he actively seeks it out himself so he restrained himself from pulling his dark strange son into his chest to console him, waiting patiently for Virgil’s response.

“Um…well…I…I postponed my presentation again,” Virgil stuttered disappearing further into his hoodie as if to hide away allowing his inky black bangs to fall over his grey eyes. This ominous presentation had been looming over Virgil’s head for weeks causing nothing but stress and anxiety for him but the presentation was compulsory and despite the support and resources offered by the school it did little to quell his panic. “I…I was going to do it b-but the moment I stood up and everyone eyes were on me…I…I,” Virgil gripped his own hair curling further in on himself his breathing growing more rapid and erratic as he stuttered the words out as he recounted the event, his increased distress had not surpassed Dee’s notice. The youngest manoeuvred himself now facing Virgil placing his mitten-clad hands against Virgil’s chest as he had presumably seen Patton do before in order to regulate his breathing, his large eyes staring up at his brother with a combination of concern and confusion but it warranted a weak laugh from Virgil as he inhaled a shaky breath exhaling once before repeating the action until his breathing slowed enough for him to continue. During the time Emile had appeared next to Patton placing a comforting hand on his shoulder now much closer to Virgil allowing him to step in if need be, Patton simply watched the two brothers interacting able to read each other feelings without words a lump forming in his throat. It never got easier witnessing Virgil’s panic attacks, powerless to prevent them and only able to guide him through each one as they occurred but was increasingly grateful for Emile’s presence unsure of his ability to restrain himself from attempting to console Virgil himself. “I ran…I didn’t know what else to do…I just had to get out, I ran to the restroom…I tried to do that counting thing but nothing worked but then Princey showed up out of nowhere and helped me out of it,”. Virgil glanced over to where Patton and Emile were standing but peered over Patton’s shoulder at something behind them, Patton turned and was surprised to see Roman standing completely silent in the archway having replaced his red bomber jacket for his favourite red sash draped across his torso his sketch pad and an assortment of art supplies held to his chest.

“Of course Vir…eh J.D-lightful, it is my sworn duty as a Prince to rescue damsels in distress,” Roman proclaimed striking one of his many signature poses but Patton didn’t fail to miss his initial bashfulness and in that moment his heart swelled with pride. Roman and Virgil were polar opposites and determined to forever despise each other but yet slowly but surely they were learning to tolerate each other accepting their faults and figuring out that they aren’t so different after all.

“Whatever you say Princey but thanks,” Virgil said a small yet sincere smile creeping onto his face unfurling himself wrapping his arms gently around Dee now happily babbling away. “Thank you too Dee,”.

“Do you feel better Virgil?” Patton asked his heart warming at the sight of Virgil’s rare smile.

“Yeah I do, thanks dad,” He said hoping down from his perch lowering Dee to the floor and shuffled apprehensively towards Patton but he knew exactly what Virgil was asking for, he opened his arms allowing Virgil to close the space then wrapping his arms around Virgil’s narrow frame not too tight to feel as if he were suffocating him but enough for him to feel secure. Though Virgil made no move to hug him back Patton sensed his tension dissipating as he revelled in Patton’s touch and warmth before returning to perching on the kitchen counter.

“I’m proud of you Virgil. You were able to recognise you were panicking and calm yourself down,” Emile praised placing a gentle hand on Virgil shoulder. “And perhaps he could talk about this presentation in our next session and have a system set in place for if something like this occurs again. What do you think?”.

“Uh yeah sounds good, thanks Uncle Emile,” Virgil said his face flushing from the praise a stark contrast to his pale complexion winding the cord attached to his headphones around his hands.

“Patton duty calls, I have emergency meeting soon. So I will make myself scarce and Virgil I will see you next week for our session,” Emile said Virgil only nodded in response still self-conscious in regards to his weekly therapy sessions. As Emile was leaving he wrapped Patton in a quick hug before ruffling Dee’s hair who hummed gleefully in response and he left, the grumbling of his car could be heard outside as it exited his driveway.

Patton gathered Dee into his arms, his youngest immediately making a grab for his glasses resulting in Patton having to dodge his fast approaching hands reminding him that his glasses were not a toy receiving a dissatisfied whine. Virgil remained on his perch scrolling through his phone presumably on Tumblr the tween’s favourite social media sight though he didn’t give any indication of what he was he was smiling at on his phone but Patton didn’t pry trusting his son completely and Roman had assembled his art supplies at the dining room table fixated on the potential masterpiece he was working on in his sketchbook. Patton had an idea.

“It has certainly been a day. And the only suitable way to complete this day would be with a movie night,” Patton announced promptly gaining the attention of his children. Movie nights were cherished occasions within the Hart household as Patton held the belief that a night spent watching movies with your family could solve any problem and if not it certainly made everything a little easier. The entire family gathering on the couch beneath a pile of soft and fluffy blankets, various movie snacks - typically home-made cookies - and a heart-warming feel-good movie playing on the TV Patton couldn’t think of anything superior. Occurring typically twice weekly in a normal week but often unscheduled movie nights were arranged for a variety of reasons; if Virgil had a bad day, if Roman was stuck in a creative slump or if Patton was simply feeling worn down. A movie night was always the perfect solution.

Roman and Virgil expressions of elation were enough for Patton’s heart to summer-salute within his chest and they all immediately swung into action cleaning the chaotic living before they all settled down at the dining table -including Virgil - to a family-favourite of Patton’s extra special secret recipe for Spaghetti Bolognese, so extra special even the exceptionally picky eater Dee would tuck into with no complaints. Following their dinner Patton began the preparations for movie night preparing the traditional snacks while Roman and Virgil disputed over the movie choice and Dee snuggled up in the considerable number of blankets struggling to stay conscious but once the movie began - they ultimately chose a Frozen a favourite of all three Hart siblings - and barely half-way through the film when Anna began her journey to find her sister Elsa all three were fast asleep. Roman’s increasingly lanky limbs sprawled across Patton’s lap emitting occasional soft snores every so often, Virgil curled in on himself his hoodie drawn tight around his slight frame his music still flowing through his headphones allowing him to sleep easy and Dee nestled into his older brother chest Virgil’s arms gently drawing him in closer. Patton smiled immensely thankful that fate had granted him these three wonderful, beautiful, talented children there weren’t enough words in the English language to describe the warmth he felt within his heart and his one last wish was to add one more beautiful soul to complete the puzzle that is his dream and that missing piece was Logan.

But while Patton drifted off to sleep with a smile upon his face surrounded by the overwhelming love and affection of his children. Logan did not. He returned to his room beaten and broken, collapsing into his bed with an empty stomach, begging for an escape from the hell he was living.

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#sander sides au #sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #deciet sanders #Emile Picani #sympathetic deceit #Adoption AU #Logic sanders #Morality sanders #creativity sanders #anxiety sanders #tw child abuse #tw anxiety

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lamazeclasssitn646-blog · 4 years

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The 8-Minute Rule for Pregnancy Classes Near Me

Birthing classes are a fundamental part of preparing to have a baby. They can aid you develop a birth strategy and also reduce your anxiety concerning the unknowns of labor as well as delivery. For novice parents, these courses can offer crucial info, including: The various approaches of distribution. Just how to understand when you're in labor.

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Methods for making shipment extra comfortable, consisting of breathing and relaxation methods. Discomfort management choices. Nursing fundamentals. Taking care of child in your home. Birthing courses are not simply for new parents, however. There are likewise "refresher course" classes for parents who have older children but are anticipating a brand-new infant. Along with offering you updated details on labor and also shipment, birth courses serve an additional vital purpose.

How Childbirth Classes Near Me can Save You Time, Stress, and Money.

The majority of classes are created for you and a companion, whether it is your partner, a partner, a relative, and even a buddy. Ideally, he or she will be your "train" and source of motivation throughout your shipment. Birthing courses likewise can be an excellent source of psychological assistance. You'll have the possibility to bond with various other moms and dads who have most of the same concerns and worries.

Knowing that millions of various other ladies have actually been via labor and distribution can help lessen your stress and anxiety. Discovering more regarding the techniques included can assist you feel more in control as well as relieve your fears. Many medical facilities use birthing classes, as do some facilities as well as also independent educators. Typically, these classes are taught by nurses, midwives, lactation specialists, as well http://www.bbc.co.uk/search?q=prenatal & baby classes as other giving birth teachers.

See This Report about Birthing Classes Near Me

If your plan is to have your infant delivered in a hospital, it's typically a great concept to take your courses there. A lot of classes use an excursion of the pregnancy ward as component of the course, so you'll obtain to see direct where you will be when you deliver.

Your choice of birth approach might additionally route your class option. While several birthing classes use a basic review of all birthing methods, there are classes that concentrate on one method, such as Lamaze class. Most instructors advise that you wait to take a birthing class up until your last trimester of pregnancy, at seven or 8 months.

Birthing Classes - Truths

These kinds of courses are a fantastic alternative for first-timers since they show pointers for having a healthy and also safe maternity. Courses are supplied in different layouts. Some are condensed right into a single weekend, while others are used one evening a week throughout 10 weeks or two.

Classes that target a specific birth delivery method are in some cases much shorter. There are additionally classes created for parents that are having several babies (such as doubles or triplets). If you had a c-section for your first birth and also intend to have a genital shipment this time, there is a class for that, too.

Get This Report about Baby Classes Near Me

Courses have a tendency to fill out promptly, so you need to book your spot early. In some cases, you can also discover an exclusive class, if you are not comfortable with the idea of being in a group course setting. Some healthcare facilities are beginning to provide on-line courses, too. Expect to be required to pay for your birth course, as this solution may not be covered under your medical insurance strategy.

This basic birth class will give you an overview of all points birth-related. This is a good well-rounded course, especially if you're uncertain regarding which birth strategy as well as pain strategy you want to utilize. Anticipate to learn more about: Birthing methods, including a summary of all-natural giving birth approaches (Lamaze, the Bradley Approach, HypnoBirthing).

Excitement About Prenatal Classes Near Me

The differences in between a genital birth and cesarean (C-section) delivery (consisting of recuperation for each). Births that need clinical intervention, including causing labor (providing you medication to cause labor), or making use of forceps (a tool that looks like salad tongs) or a vacuum (a conical device with an air pump) to assist extract the infant.

Exactly how to time tightenings as well as when to notify your physician or midwife. Postpartum treatment. Caring for your baby in the house, including infant emergency treatment. One of one of the most prominent birthing techniques in the UNITED STATE, Lamaze has been around considering that the 1960s. It is most instantly well-known for its breathing strategies.

Unknown Facts About Pregnancy Classes

It belongs to an overall leisure approach. Other tools for leisure made use of in Lamaze consist of strolling, utilizing a birth round (similar to a medicine ball), as well as massage whatever aids get you with each contraction. The viewpoint behind Lamaze is to make a woman comfortable sufficient throughout labor to make her very own choices.

Nevertheless, a lady exercising Lamaze can additionally select medication during her labor. This partner-coached childbirth method instructs you to how to prepare for an all-natural birth physically, mentally, and also psychologically. It emphasizes the importance of having a healthy and balanced child with little to no clinical treatment. The Bradley Approach is a 12-week course that includes a thorough educational program as well as research guide that walks you through the whole process of having a child, beginning with maternity.

Little Known Facts About Birthing Classes Near Me.

Instructors learn how to direct their partners with the discomfort. They also discover regarding reliable birthing settings that can assist alleviate discomfort. The ideology behind the Bradley Technique is that it takes months to effectively intend as well as prepare for childbirth as well as parenthood. Their classes promote "Healthy and balanced Baby, Healthy And Balanced Mother, and Healthy Family members." Additionally called The Mongan Approach, HypnoBirthing assists women find out self-hypnosis methods to deliver their children in a tranquility, positive way that is gentle on them and on the infant.

Each session lasts 2.5 hrs. Throughout the sessions, you'll discover how to use your birth muscles, allowing your body do the work of giving birth. You'll also learn how to accomplish a state of relaxation where impulse will take control of, reducing the discomfort. The viewpoint behind HypnoBirthing is that birth is an all-natural process that ladies's bodies are totally efficient in doing.

Not known Factual Statements About Pregnancy Classes

It's this worry that develops stress and also protects against the body from resolving the discomfort, making discomfort even worse. These classes reveal the myths linked with giving birth and also assistance women see it as absolutely nothing to fear. If nursing isn't covered in your birthing class, it's a great concept to take a private course on it, especially if you are a novice mother.

The American Academy of Family Physicians (AAFP) advises that all infants, with extremely couple of exemptions, be breastfed and/or obtain bust milk in a container solely for the first six months of life. Nursing need to proceed even as you begin to add strong foods throughout the second fifty percent of the initial year.

The Only Guide for Prenatal Classes Near Me

Knowing what to do in an emergency situation that involves an infant or little one can mean the distinction between life-and-death. If your birthing course does not include this info, you should seek it out. Lots of medical facilities will use this as a private class for parents as well as for those individuals who consistently are around kids for any factor.

In some cases no issue exactly how prepared you are, your distribution doesn't go the means you 'd wished it would certainly go. There are a variety of medical reasons that might cause you to need to desert your birth plan. If the baby isn't head-down and your doctor can not get the child to turn, you'll likely have an unintended C-section.

About Childbirth Classes

You could pass by your due day and also require to be induced. The lesson below is to intend the most effective you can but know that your body and child will likely influence just how and also when you'll provide birth. Where should I take a birth class? What course or courses do you recommend? Who will distribution my infant if you are not available? Will you cause birth if I don't provide by my due day? I'm intending on a "all-natural" birth in the hospital.

It's the moment you spend your whole pregnancy gearing up forbut giving birth features pain and also a lot of unknowns, so it's no marvel moms-to-be feel some stress and anxiety bordering labor and delivery. Yet as they claim, understanding is power, as well as childbirth courses can be a wonderful way to recognize the birth process, ask questions and also remove up any kind of complication as well as uneasiness.

The Main Principles Of Prenatal Course

You may also make buddies with other parents due around the very same time as you! However with so numerous various courses around, exactly how do you identify which one to sign up for? Right here's what to find out about the sorts of birth classes, when and also why you should take one and also exactly how to find one that's right for you.

Some Known Facts About Childbirth Classes.

" I think everyone can profit from a prenatal class," claims Megan Davies, a certified childbirth educator as well as proprietor of YEG Prenatal in Alberta, The golden state. "Birth is just one of the most intense, life-altering experiences an individual can have. Birth is uncertain, however knowing what alternatives are readily available, recognizing how the body works throughout labor as well as having an idea of what to anticipate from the entire procedure can make the experience much less scary." Birthing courses are likewise advantageous for whoever will certainly be supporting you during birth, since they'll discover what occurs throughout labor and shipment, exactly how to physically as well as psychologically comfort you and also exactly how they can advocate for you throughout the experience.

The Basic Principles Of Birthing Classes

The great news is that some giving birth courses are provided by neighborhood medical facilities or neighborhood facilities at a reduced or no price. Lots of childbirth education and learning classes are general introductions of labor as well as shipment and might walk you via the following elements of birth: the biology behind labor comfort and also pain-alleviating strategies what the labor procedure looks like and also what to anticipate from your medical team the duty of your birth partner in the labor process what to know regarding epidurals what to find out about c-sections details concerning breastfeeding as well as newborn treatment Various other birth classes might have specific perspectives on exactly how to take care of labor.

A lamaze classor series of https://www.hypnobirthing.co.il קורס הכנה ללידה המלצות classes, given that the educational program spans 12 hoursis a popular alternative for moms-to-be. The technique was developed in the 1950s by a French physician and also concentrates on breathing and discomfort management techniques, how to labor (with or without medicines) as well as means a birth partner can aid.

The 9-Second Trick For Childbirth Classes Near Me

If you're wishing for a drug-free birth (and can dedicate to a 12-hour course), Lamaze could be a fantastic choice, especially if you remain in your 2nd trimester. Provided its concentrate on the birth partner along with the person delivering, Lamaze is a great way to make sure you and your companion get on the very same page when it involves distribution.

The strategy can assist ladies with labor breathing as well as ways to focus on opening the body for birth, and can likewise help in making maternity a lot more comfy. Classes may be conventional Alexander Technique classes adjusted for maternity, or classes designed solely for expectant individuals and their partners. The number of classes you wind up completing depends on your schedule and also wishes, but advocates of the Alexander Strategy recommend taking classes at the very least when a week.

The Definitive Guide for Baby Classes Near Me

The mild stretching and also movement might also benefit moms and dads that wish to stay active while pregnant. A 12-week program, the Bradley Technique concentrates on all aspects of giving birth, consisting of exactly how to remain healthy for the period of your maternity. This birth course concentrates on techniques to assist you via all phases of labor, what to anticipate if things do not go according to plan as well as what the function of your birth partner can be.

An unmedicated, intervention-free birth is the objective of the course: According to a study, 86 percent of individuals in the Bradley Approach had a drug-free distribution. Are you the type that feels there's no such point as too much preparation? The course-like nature of this strategy can be a great option for moms and dads who truly intend to submerse themselves in all facets of the birth experience, as well as moms and dads who are preparing for a drug-free shipment.

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thedefinitionofbts · 7 years

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A Story that we paint (Ch. 3)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Epilogue

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x Reader | Kim Taehyung x Reader

Genre: College Au, Future, Scifi, Slight Fluff and Angst

Words: 6K

Description: Butterfly Dream: In which the lines between virtual and reality are blurred.

Somewhere on the sandy shores of a large ocean side city, you are lying next to your boyfriend Kim Taehyung, under the cooling shade of a beach umbrella. Subtly feeling the rise and fall of his chest, you lean closer against his bare torso as the scent of his vanilla sunscreen fills the air surrounding you. His summer-tanned complexion is glowing from the reflecting rays of the sun ricocheting off the soft yellow sand, and for a moment, you allow yourself to lose your grip of the physical world and be submerged in a carefree bliss, forgetting about anything and everything that had been troubling you.

“This was a great idea,” You sigh, feeling more relaxed than you’ve felt in a long time.

“Traveling the world?” Taehyung hums. The vibration of his voice tingles in your ear, right before the sound of the ocean floods your senses.

“Yeah” You confirm.

Having been hesitant about taking a whole month off from work, afraid your boss might think you were slacking off, it was Taehyung who had convinced you that you were in dire need of a break. You had always been a loyal employee, sacrificing sleep and most weekends for the sake of the company, thinking that the only way to get anywhere in life was throwing all your time and energy into work. But now, as you feel the knots in your sore muscles loosen and the jumbled thoughts in your mind clearing out, you were finally realizing that this trip was exactly what you needed. You needed to get out there and explore the world while you were young, and you wouldn’t have wanted to experience this adventure with anyone but Kim Taehyung.

On this month long trip, the two of you had gone to many different places around the world, each with its own unique culture and characteristics that left unforgettable memories of your time together. You recall a historic castle in the mountains reminiscent of many that can be found in Western Europe, where Taehyung had recited poems to you as you gazed across the forest covered valley below, and gaped at the crystalline surface of the river that ran in between the steep hills, reflecting different wavelengths of sunlight, like a prism giving birth to rainbows.

You can still see the small village at the base of an inactive volcano on a tropical island, lined with palm trees and bright orange hibiscus. The hotel you had stayed at was positioned right on the shore, giving the two of you unlimited access to the vast ocean. Sunrises and Sunsets were spent eating delicious meals and crafting little gifts out of the vibrant flowers covering every visible inch of the islands fields. Effortlessly, you are able to retain the memory of the way Taehyung had smiled at you before lifting you off your feet and running towards the aquamarine waves rushing towards the sandy beach.

Even now, as you look him in the eyes, ringing in your ears are the sounds of the bustling market places in the sand dunes of the Middle East, and in your nostrils still lingers the scent of the fresh breeze drifting across the Western coastlines of North America, where you two took a road trip driving along the forest covered coast of Northern California.

You knew your memory of these places would be safely contained in small pieces of your heart, tucked away in hidden sections only to be brought out when a new experience would call them forward. As all memories are, they would be strengthened by each connection you made, whether it was now or in the future. But the sheer depth of these particular memories from this trip is unlike that of first time experiences. It is conceivable that this is due to the events happening not too long ago, a month is a rather short period of time to expect your recollections to fade, but these memories seem to have multiple layers. And it is because of this peculiar trait that makes you question if these are strengthening connections rather than brand new experiences. But that was not possible because you knew for a fact that this was the first time you and Taehyung traveled the world together, so why does everything that’s seemingly perfect now, feel so strange?

You opt not to dwell on that anymore because it’s not like you would get answers to such absurd questions. It was likely that you were beginning to overthink again, a habit that is not completely uncharacteristic of you. The trip was amazing, and that was all that really mattered. Maybe it was also because this trip was nearing it’s inevitable end, and that was the reason behind your growing anxiety. You knew all good things would eventually come to an end, and even before the trip started, you were mentally preparing yourself for post-vacation depression by telling yourself there will always be a next time. But even your self-induced pep talks were unsatisfactory, because the more you ventured around the world, the more you grew accustomed to traveling, and the more you dreaded the thought of going back to everyday life when the trip would finally come to its end.

“Tae, when this trip is over, I’m going to quit my job”

He leans up and lowers his sunglasses. “Really?” He asks.

You look at him and nod, waiting for him to tell you, you were being unreasonable or something and giving you a long talk on how you shouldn’t make rash decisions like this. Because it sounded silly, even in your mind, but you genuinely wanted to see how he would react.

“Thank god” He sighs with relief. It was a response that you had not expected.

“What?” You ask, rather astonished.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come to that decision for ages,” Taehyung explains with a soft chuckle. “But I wanted you to decide that on your own.”

“You’ve been hoping I’d quit?” You ask, still feeling a little dumbfounded.

“I can tell you don’t enjoy that job.” Taehyung says. He reaches over and begins tracing indecipherable shapes in the palm of your hands as he explains. “Seeing you unhappy and stressed is not something I want to continue doing.” He leans in and gives you a peck on the cheek, and it feels so right you start to wonder where that foreign feeling tinkling in your chest is coming from.

You had been so stressed from work that there were fragments of memories before the trip that were just gradually beginning to return to you. The sleepless nights working on some big project that required an intense amount of design and testing, conversations with an old friend who you had known for years, and a song that you had obsessed over at one point in time but somehow can’t quite remember the name of.

“We should move somewhere like this” Taehyung says, after the two of you took a moment to enjoy the rhythmic waxing and waning of the salty waves.

“By the sea?” You hum.

“Yeah” He breathes out.

…

Not long after your trip around the world with Taehyung ended, did your plans of starting a new chapter in your life actually become a reality. You had quit your awful job as planned, and though you were nervous about what lay ahead in the future; it felt nice to at least get one thing off your chest. It was satisfying seeing the look in your boss’ eyes when you handed him your letter of resignation. He had always taken your hard work for granted, and made you feel incompetent when products didn’t turn out the way he wanted. At least you finally got to see the look on his face when it had finally dawned on him that he was losing one of his most valuable employees.

It was only a couple of weeks later, when Taehyung had excitedly announced the news that he managed to find a house in some southern city by the ocean. It was a beautifully designed little hut, right next to the water, just as he had wanted and miraculously within your budget as well. Being a freelancing photographer, his work never held him down like yours did to you, and it was only for the sake of your job that the two of you had decided to live in the same town for years. Now that, that wasn’t an issue anymore, you guys finally had the opportunity to live out a long dream of his. And it definitely seemed like everything was falling into place.

“Remember when we first moved here?” You hear Taehyung’s voice travel into the bathroom as you were brushing your teeth, preparing for bed.

You walk to the doorway, toothbrush still scrubbing away, and see Taehyung half tucked into bed. He was looking around the bedroom with nostalgic eyes, reminiscing the years the two of you had spent in this lovely little apartment. How happy you were when you first moved in together after finally saving up enough money to get your own place. Those long nights spend chatting under the covers with the newfound excitement and anticipation for the start of your lives together. You think you can still remember the look in his eyes as he laid in bed facing you, just faintly visible, thanks to the moonlight filtering through the curtains, and just before you closed your own.

Now it was merely a week before you were to leave this memory filled place and enter the next chapter of your lives. All of your belongings were safely packed away in brown boxes of different sizes stacked in one corner, and the room was mostly empty except for the bed the two of you shared.

It almost feels like Déjà vu, because you swear you viewed a similar scene somewhere else. And you truly believe something exactly like this had happened before in the past, but you know it hasn’t, or at least you’re pretty sure it hasn’t. No matter how real that feeling seems to be, your mind is telling you that it is impossible. Maybe it was just from a movie, or a book, or….a dream?

You walk back to the sink to finish washing up, taking the time to rinse every last bit of toothpaste foam off your toothbrush. You make sure the faucet is twisted shut and turn off the light before you exit the bathroom.

You can’t see anything because you’re eyes haven’t quite adjusted to the darkness yet, but you know the room so well that you could easily find your way around even with your eyes closed. You can hear Taehyung scoot over a little to make room for you to join him on the bed. A shift of his body tells you he’s turned to lie on his side facing you. The same position he’s always in, because he had once said something along the lines of “I will never leave you alone even when your mind has drifted off to the realm of dreaming”. You can’t quite recall the exact context of that, but you think it’s something Taehyung has said in the past because if it wasn’t him, who else could it be?

The bed is soft like it always is, and when you slip under the covers, you’re immediately in contact with the warmth of his body as you position yourself next to him. The room is quiet, and nothing but the faint rumble of the central air conditioner can be heard. Your heavy eyelids are slowing shutting, but the smooth sound of Taehyung’s voice keeps you clutching on to your consciousness for just a little bit longer.

“Y/N?” You hear him murmur.

“Hmmm?”

There’s a drawn out pause, and it makes you wonder if Taehyung might’ve fallen asleep mid-sentence, but you feel the light flutter of his breathe as he sighs.

“I really miss you,” He whispers at a barely audible volume, and once again, it is so soft that you would’ve missed it entirely had you not been paying attention.

You take a brief moment to let his words sink in. “What do you mean?” You ask, feeling an eerie uncertainty wash over you. How could he miss you, when you were right next to him sleeping under the same stars and wrapped under the same blanket? You’ve never left him for longer than a workday at a time in the past, and you two were always together. Was he maybe referring to it in a metaphorical sense then?

You lift your gaze, and it settle on his glossy pupils, waiting, but he takes his time to stare into your eyes, and for some strange, unexplainable reason, it feels like he knows it’s the last time. “As long as you’re happy, I’ll be ok.”

“Tae…” Your voice trails off.

“I love you,” He says.

……….

“You’re not going to tell Jungkook that you almost thought the virtual world was the real world?” Jimin practically screams, after you admit your last simulation test was way freakier than you ever thought was possible or ever wanted it to be.

“I don’t even think the word “almost” can really put it into perspective.” You shake your head slowly, blankly staring at the water coming to a boil on Jimin’s stovetop. He had frantically started making tea after he saw you arrive at his dorm wholly shaken up; thinking you just had an anxiety attack or something. “I wouldn’t even be surprised if I didn’t make it out.”

“Y/N!” Jimin screams again. “You need to stop going in those simulations!”

“I can’t!” You exclaim, finally snapping out of your detachment from the conversation at the mention of giving up. “Jimin the project is due in two weeks, I can’t stop now.” You run your hands through your hair in frustration.

“That shit’s no worth it, Y/N” Jimin says, in a much calmer tone as he pours you a cup of tea.

“But, we’ve already worked so hard” You murmur, staring at the cup and the tiny slivers of steam radiating from it.

It was true. This entire semester, all you’ve done is put work into this project, spending endless hours in the HCI lab, just as Professor Namjoon predicted at the beginning of the semester. You barely had any free time, except for the occasional weekends you spent catching up on sleep.

“That time warp thing, or whatever it’s called, is so messed up” Jimin comments. “I can’t believe Jungkook made you do it.” He shakes his head in disappointment.

“It’s not his fault, I’m the one who made the decision” It surprises you how quickly you are to defend Jungkook, your project partner and the only other person who’s probably spent even more time on the project than you have.

Jeon Jungkook.

Things really haven’t gone anywhere since the last time you two did anything non-project related. Frankly, it was just awkward for you, knowing he’s already in love with someone. He never really talks about her either, and it’s not like you had the right to ask.

He was nice to you. Almost a kind of, pretend nice, the way he would probably treat every other girl on this planet. Nothing special, nothing extra, nothing that would make your relationship with him would go beyond the scope of project partners.

Absolutely no potential there.

You had to admit it was disappointing, and normally you wouldn’t be so caught up in this one-sided love scenario if it weren’t for those dreams. It was actually verging on laughable, knowing your subconscious mind was calling out to him for reasons you couldn’t explain. Dreaming about a crush, story of every teenage girl’s life. You thought you were over those days, but apparently not. The only thing that brought you solace was telling yourself that it’s his fault for shinning so brightly in the darkness. Whatever that meant.

“Have you talked to Professor Min Yoongi about it?” Jimin asks, awakening you from your thoughts and taking a sip of the hot liquid from his own cup.

“No...”

“Well what the fuck are you waiting for???!?! The semester is almost over and you still downplay the importance of Mental Environment Homeostasis. Unbelievable!” He almost slams his cup down on the table.

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Mr. Psychology major, or should I call you Dr. Park?” You huff in annoyance.

“Y/N, you really shouldn’t take this lightly.” Jimin gives you a serious look, one that made it indisputably obvious that he wasn’t playing around.

“I know, I know, I’ll go talk to him. I will.”

…

As you had promised Jimin, you set aside some time on a Friday afternoon to talk to Professor Min Yoongi during his office hours. The tread up the grand staircase of the Psychology building was admittedly a bit nerve wracking. You weren’t exactly the most eloquent when it came to interacting with professors, especially for reasons as personally exposing as these.

It felt quite awkward, knowing you hadn’t spoken to him directly all semester and was just now (with less than two weeks before finals) that you decide to pay him a visit over this serious issue that may or may not have been able to be prevented had you gone to him earlier.

In your defense, Professor Min Yoongi has always been on the intimidating side. Compared to the jokester Seokjin and the bright and enthusiastic Hoseok, Yoongi wasn’t exactly the most approachable out of your professors. Heck, even Namjoon felt easier to go to for help.

He’s going to think I’m a horrible student. You think to yourself as you approach the large wooden door to his office that was slightly ajar. You tentatively lift a hand to knock, wincing a little as the sound interrupts the previously serene environment.

“Come in” You hear the familiar voice come as a muffle through the wood.

Pushing open the door, you swallow the saliva that has managed to build up to a noticeable volume. What were you even going to say?

“H-hi, Professor Min” You hesitantly utter as you walk into the dimly lit room. It was mid-afternoon, but he had the curtains of his window closed and nothing but his desk lamp on.

“Good afternoon” He says, lifting his head from the book he was reading. He reaches over and lifts his bookmark from the surface of his wooden desk and inserts it into the book, before opening a drawer to his left side and tucking it away. “And what brings you here today?” He asks, looking at you and giving you a faint smile.

“I’m Y/N, a student in Mental Environment Homeostasis, and I…ugh…had something I wanted to discuss about my project.” You pause, giving him time to respond.

“Ah, yes, please have a seat” He says, motioning to the couch on the left side of the room. There was a small coffee table in front of it, with a vase holding a single red rose.

You silently walk over and sit on the couch as the professor stands up from his desk and makes his way over to the other couch facing the one you had just sat down on.

“Y/N, was it?” Yoongi says. “You’re the one who’s doing the project with Jungkook, right?”

Your ears perk up at the sound of Jungkook’s name. “Y-yes” You nod. “How did you…?”

He chuckles. “Namjoon told me about the group who was experimenting with a conscious AI. He was initially a bit concerned, but I’ve been speaking to your partner, Jungkook, about it and I see you’ve been holding up well?”

So Jungkook has already spoken with Yoongi? Is that what he spends his weekends doing? You don’t have time to mull over what you think Jungkook might spend his free time doing because Yoongi is waiting for your response.

“Yeah, about that…it’s kind of what I came to talk to you about, today” You reply. “About our test simulations, and the time warp function we’ve been using these past few weeks.”

“Have the lines begun to blur?” Yoongi asks, getting straight to the point. You feel so relieved that he’s able to pinpoint the issue without you having to really explain anything.

You nod. “Yeah, in my last trip to the virtual world, I almost thought it was real.” You lower your head and allow your eyes to rest on the rose. “I don’t know if it’s dangerous to continue, but our project is almost due and I don’t know if I’m just overthinking or….”

“If I recall correctly, you two are writing a love story?” Yoongi asks, after your voice trails off.

You look up at him and nod.

“Ultimately it is up to you, but you don’t have to continue the simulations to finalize the project.” Yoongi explains. “You have your AI. You’ve built your world. The final component is painting the story, and that story doesn’t have to be limited to the virtual world.”

“I’m sorry, professor, I don’t quite understand what you mean” You voice, unable to determine what he was trying to imply.

“It may seem hard to believe, but I’ve been in a position similar to yours.” Yoongi voices nostalgically. “I attended this university the first year Virtual Universe 101 was added to the curriculum.” He glances briefly at the rose. “What’s interesting is, I had the same story genre as you.”

“The love story?” You gasp, unable to believe they kept such a topic around for so long.

Yoongi nods. “My partner and I also created an AI.” He pauses, and you could tell he was recalling a fond memory. “Have you fallen in love with your AI?” He suddenly asks.

“Ummm….” You think about Taehyung, the handsome guy with a smooth baritone voice and a cute rectangular grin. It’s amazing how the memories of him from the simulation are kept even when you come back to reality. Although they are somewhat blurred, the feelings are recognizably there.

Have you fallen in love with Taehyung? It was the one question you had avoided asking yourself.

“I’m not sure…” It was only half true. You weren’t fully certain, but deep down, you knew you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t feel something for your virtual male lead. And who would blame you? Taehyung was as perfect of a lover as can be.

“Professor Kim Namjoon did say that bit about having the option of choosing to live in your virtual world, correct?”

You nod, slightly fearful of where you think this conversation is headed. That idea was something Namjoon had mention on the first day of class, something you hadn’t thought much about until now. Was Yoongi going to suggest you just give in to the virtual world and accept that your mind has already chosen it over reality??

“I’m not advising you to choose that option,” Yoongi quickly says, when he sees the look of horror spread across your face unbeknownst to you. “But you can use it for your story.”

“My story?”

“The story that you are painting with Jungkook” Yoongi reiterates.

“But Taehyung is the male lead” You murmur, uncertain why the dark haired professor is acting like Jungkook is. Or maybe he just said that because Jungkook is your partner and the story you’re painting is just this dumb project. Ugh, overthinking again. You mentally scold yourself for being so sensitive at the mention of Jungkook’s name.

“And if I’m not mistaken, Taehyung is the AI created with Jungkook’s mind?” It’s not really a question. It was obvious he just wanted to restate for the purpose of emphasizing.

You nod again. “I know he’s just someone in the virtual world, but there’s something in his eyes that makes him real to me. He may be a product of Jungkook’s mind, but I always believed there was something uniquely Taehyung.” You don’t know why you’re beginning to get worked up over what Yoongi was saying or inferring or out right declaring, but it doesn’t settle well with you. Maybe you really were in love with Taehyung…

“Oh, he’s definitely real, but what impresses me is that Jungkook derived the AI’s consciousness from his own mind.” Yoongi comments. “You see, my partner and I, we didn’t think of doing it that way. We made a conscious AI from scratch, and when she fell in love with him, there was nothing I could do.” Yoongi falls silent, and you think you can faintly see a hint of pain in his eyes, but it’s gone as soon as you blink.

She?

Could he mean…?

“I was young, and too confident for my own good.” Yoongi chuckles ever so slightly.

“Your partner, did she….” You feel like an asshole for probing, but as always, curiosity got the better of you.

“She chose the world she wanted to live in.” Yoongi responds, smiling at the thought. “I don’t view it as tragic in the least.”

“Was it like the butterfly dream?” The words escape before you had time to filter them.

“In a way, yes, but I’ve come to believe that there is no way to prove which world is real and which is not.” Yoongi answers. “You and Jungkook, you guys could center your story around it. Something like… love that transcends the butterfly dream?” He grins.

“So you’re saying the story that we paint is me falling in love in the real world and choosing it over the virtual world, even though the virtual world is where I was supposed to fall in love in?” You ask, ready to make the argument that, that can’t possibly happen because Jungkook doesn’t even like you in that way in the real world. But it is just a story so it can be fake, right?

“That’s one option” Yoongi nods. “But the one that came to my mind, is one where you fall in love in both worlds, but ultimately realize they were the same love story all along.”

“Ok, you lost me again” You admit, slightly embarrassed that your brain couldn’t keep up.

“Like I said, there is no way to prove which world is real and which is not. Both worlds are real, and the virtual and reality titles are only given based on the reference point. In other worlds, the real world is real because a virtual one exists and the virtual world is virtual because a real one exists. If you are living in the “virtual” world with no perception that another “real” world exists, the only world you know, in this case “virtual”, will be deemed real to your reality.” Yoongi explains.

“So if that’s the case, how does my story work then?” You question, more confused than ever.

“There is only one thing you have to consider when deciding which world you want to live in. A way to know which one you belong in.” Yoongi pauses for the sake of giving you time to organize your own thoughts before continuing. “The question you have to consider is, do you love Kim Taehyung or do you love Jeon Jungkook?”

“B-but, aren’t they the same?” You ask, raising an eyebrow and wondering why he was separating the two now, when just a few minutes ago he was stressing the fact that Taehyung is Jungkook or whatever.

“Are they to you?”

“No” You reply, they were different to you. Vastly different. Kim Taehyung treats you as his lover, and Jungkook…well, there seems to only be one-sided love there.

“Alright. Then the second question is, does Kim Taehyung love you or does Jeon Jungkook love you?”

You scoff a little. Jeon Jungkook? Loving you? That was not possible. “Definitely Kim Taehyung.” You answer, feeling how unnecessary it was to even have to voice something so obvious out loud, especially when he had literally said, “I love you” in that last simulation.

“An AI is only able to love if they are conscious.” Yoongi politely reminds you.

“Taehyung is conscious.” You answer defensively, thinking the professor couldn’t have possibly forgotten that fact already. Where the hell was he going with this?

“And where did his consciousness come from?”

Initially you don’t quite register what Yoongi had asked, it was such a simple question, yet you had a flashing light bulb moment in your mind, and you felt your heart tug at the ultimate realization.

Seeing that you have gone speechlessly silent. Yoongi voices his last statement:

“Kim Taehyung is only able to love you because Jeon Jungkook loves you.”

…

You don’t remember your dream that night. Maybe you didn’t even dream, or maybe your conversation with Yoongi had made you recognize something you had been confused about for a very long time.

“There’s something in his eyes that makes him real to me. He may be a product of Jungkook’s mind, but there was always something uniquely Taehyung.”

What you had said to Professor Min Yoongi echoes in your head.

It was a conclusion you had not realized you had come to until he had asked the question. Yes, there was always something about Taehyung that was distinct from Jungkook. He was goofy, lively, understanding, and pure…all the things you dreamed of Jungkook being. He is the place between awake and dreaming, the place that does not exist in the spectrum of reality. He is a reminder of something you lost long ago but at the same time, an enigmatic puzzle that has no answer.

“There is no way to prove which world is real and which is not.”

What Professor Min Yoongi said was right, the electo-chemical signals in your brain are the only thing that really makes up your reality, without that, you wouldn’t be able to sense the world anyways. And the virtual world acts directly upon those signals, making it un-differentiable from reality.

“But there is always a way to know which one you belong in.”

You contemplate taking the mysterious professor’s suggestion for the story. Yoongi had lost his lover in the simulation, and it makes you wonder if the same story will be repeated in your case.

You had thought the hard part would be differentiating virtual from reality, but this was ten times worse. It was like trying to decide between two people, who are the same person, but not. And if Jungkook felt the same way about you as Taehyung, why was he so non-expressive about it? Like a lot of things in life, it made no sense.

The last day of the project was coming up, and you still hadn’t told Jungkook about your last test simulation and your talk with Professor Min Yoongi. Instead, you spent the last few days coming up with excuses about being too busy working on the completed plotline of your story, an alibi that gave you reason to avoid the HCI lab for as long as possible. It was partially true though. The actual storyline was what Yoongi had suggested you focus on anyways. You were just relieved that Jungkook didn’t pry about how you were acting so strange.

When the last lecture of the semester arrived, all of your professors gathered in one lecture hall to make the last few announcements before the project was finally due.

“You have three days to decide if you want to live the life you created” Professor Kim Namjoon’s voice echoes through the lecture hall one last time.

“Students, please do not take his worlds seriously” Professor Jung Hoseok had stepped forward and clarified. Namjoon laughs a little at Hoseok’s blunt comment. Hoseok was smiling from ear to ear, and literally glowing under the stage light. “Professor Namjoon says that only to remind you that your virtual worlds are very much real, and that you’ve created something much more meaningful that you could ever imagine.”

So that’s what it was all along? A joke to make students more motivated to create innovative projects?

“We are all very excited to see what this years class has brought to the table,” Professor Kim Seokjin adds.

“We just want to congratulate you all for making it this far, and hope to see your submitted projects soon.” Professor Min Yoongi finishes off.

The students in the lecture hall were beginning to gather their things, ready to leave and perhaps go back to finishing up all their projects. Fall semester was finally coming to an end, and it really hasn’t hit you until now, during the last class of the year, that Virtual Universe 101 was actually coming to a close. Finals week was rolling around, and the project was due in three days, as Namjoon has just reminded everyone.

“Y/N?” You hear Jungkook’s voice awaken you from your thoughts.

“Oh, we’re supposed to leave aren’t we?” You laugh, nervously, still trying to pull yourself together.

“I’ve finished testing out all part of the code, and the virtual world is pretty much good to go.” Jungkook says as the two of you walk between the rows of seats toward the exit. “H-how’s the story coming along?” He says, voice a little softer and less confident than it was for the previous sentence.

“It’s….umm…” You search for a response, but the words elude you, escaping from your grasp like trying to grip tiny grains of sand that continuously slips between your fingers.

“Even though Professor Jung Hoseok said Professor Kim Namjoon was kidding about choosing to live the life you create, we could… make that part of our project…or uh…something…” He trails off, perhaps waiting for you to jump in and say something, an agreement, express refusal, anything. But you don’t, and there’s only silence because all the students have left the lecture hall and the lights were beginning to turn off, except for a few dimly lit ones at the front near the stage.

Kim Taehyung is only able to love you because Jeon Jungkook loves you. Yoongi’s voice resonates in your head, and it gives you just enough courage to voice your next question.

“Jungkook, how did you know Taehyung would fall in love with me?” You ask, stopping to turn and look at him.

He nervously diverts his eyes, biting on his bottom lip and contemplating how to respond to your question. He knows exactly what you mean by that question. He also knows that if he messes up now, everything he’s done up until this point will all be in vain. He doesn’t really know what to do, and he doesn’t know if this is the right time to do it, but he takes a leap of faith anyways because it may be his last chance to save you.

“I’ve liked you since I saw you walk into the lecture hall on the first day of school. I just thought you were really pretty, and I secretly prayed you would come over and ask me to be your partner.” Jungkook blurts out, it comes out rushed and uncoordinated, and he’s left scratching the back of his neck awkwardly when he finishes. “I’m sorry, that was dumb…” He sighs, looking down at the ground dejectedly.

I just came because the rides looked fun, and when I saw you, I thought you were really pretty, so I approached. Another familiar voice echoes in your head, like scattered fragments of memory tossed in the air. That was the moment they all came raining down on you, like the blinding light at the end of a tunnel.

Butterfly. It’s my favorite.

It’s called Butterfly.

It’s because of a girl.

There’s a girl I use to like a long time ago.

She chose to stay in her dream.

She was someone really special.

Still is.

“Jungkook?” You manage to whisper, and although your voice is shaking ever so slightly, you are able to speak with absolute resolve, a type of sureness you had lacked most of your life. But now, as Jungkook slowly raises his eyes to meet yours, you had never felt more certain of your final decision.

“I want to paint another story together, only this time, let’s let our brushes move freely.”

You gaze into the pair of doe eyes you’ve been seeing in your dreams, those dark chocolate orbs that mesmerized you from the first day you looked into them. But there was something different about them today, something peculiar, a glint that was calling for you. That same glint you’ve been seeing in Taehyung’s eyes, as well. Is this where it came from?

That familiar feeling that has been following you around for quite some time now is stronger than ever. Inexplicably, you are just now beginning to feel like you can pin point what exactly it is.

And that’s when,

You wake up.

#bts fanfic #bangtan bookclub #btswriters #armiesnet #taeguknetwork #bts scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #scifi #college au

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kristablogs · 4 years

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Where does fear actually come from?

Convention thinking says that the root of all fear lies in our brains. But what comes before then? (The National Museum in Oslo/)

Excerpt from Nerve: Adventures in the Science of Fear by Eva Holland. Reprinted with permission of The Experiment.

Fear, it seems at first, should be easy to identify and define. To borrow from that old judicial decision about the definition of obscenity: we know it when we feel it.

Putting that feeling into words can be harder. G. Stanley Hall, the nineteenth-century founder of the American Journal of Psychology and the first president of the American Psychological Association, described fear as “the anticipation of pain,” and that seems like a pretty good general definition to me. Fear of violence? Anticipatory pain. Fear of a breakup, the loss of someone you love? Anticipatory pain. Fear of sharks, of plane crashes, of falling off a cliff? Check, check, and check.

But what we need, really, isn’t just a solid catch-all definition. What we need, to understand the role of fear in our lives, is to examine the layers and varieties of fears that can afflict us.

There’s the sharp jab of alarm when you sense a clear, imminent threat: That car is going to hit me. There’s the duller, more dispersed foreboding, the feeling of malaise whose source you can’t quite pinpoint: Something is wrong here. I don’t feel safe. There are spiraling, sprawling existential fears: I am going to flunk this exam, tank this interview, fail at life. And there are precise, even banal, ones: Pulling this Band-Aid off is going to hurt. How do they all fit together? Or, put differently, to what extent does each stand apart?

According to Greek mythology, Ares, the god of war, had two sons, who accompanied him into battle: Phobos, the god of fear, and Deimos, the god of dread. That seems like a useful distinction to start with—fear versus dread—and it’s one that’s echoed today by our distinction between fear and anxiety. Fear, generally speaking, is regarded as being prompted by a clear and present threat: you sense danger and you feel afraid. Anxiety, on the other hand, is born from less tangible concerns: it can feel like fear but without a clear cause. Simple enough, at least in theory.

In Fear: A Cultural History, author Joanna Bourke gamely attempts to parse the distinctions between fear and anxiety. “In one case a frightening person or dangerous object can be identified: the flames searing patterns on the ceiling, the hydrogen bomb, the terrorist,” she writes. Whereas “more often, anxiety overwhelms us from some source ‘within’: there is an irrational panic about venturing outside, a dread of failure, a premonition of doom ... Anxiety is described as a more generalized state, while fear is more specific and immediate. The ‘danger object’ seems to be in front of us in fear states, while in anxiety states the individual is not consciously aware of what endangers him or her.”

But as Bourke points out, that distinction has serious limitations. It’s entirely dependent on the ability of the fearful person to identify the threat. Is it legitimately, immediately dangerous? Or is the fear abstract, “irrational”? She offers the hydrogen bomb and the terrorist as examples of potentially clear and present threats, but both can also serve as anxiety-inducing spectres, ominous even when absent.

Nerve by Eva Holland. (Courtesy of The Experiment/)

The distinction between fear and anxiety, then, can be murky, even as it can also be a useful and even necessary line to draw. But setting the issue of a threat’s clear presence aside, there’s the matter of our “fear” response.

The scientists who study our emotional lives make distinctions between different categories of feelings. There are the primary emotions, our most basic and near-universal responses, found across cultures and even appearing, or at least seeming to us to appear, in other species: fear, anger, disgust, surprise, sadness, and happiness.

Think of them like primary colors, the foundational elements of a whole rainbow of emotion. Just as red and blue in combination can be used to create all the shades of purple, you can imagine some more precise feelings as being built by the primary emotions. Horror, for instance, is fear mixed with disgust—and, maybe, some shadings of anger and surprise. Delight could be happiness with a bit of surprise stirred in. And so on.

There are also the social emotions, the feelings that don’t stand alone like the primary emotions but are generated by our relationships to others: sympathy, embarrassment, shame, guilt, pride, jealousy, envy, gratitude, admiration, contempt, and more.

Of all these, fear is perhaps the most studied. But what does it really mean to study fear? What do we even mean, exactly, when we say “fear” in the context of scientific research? That’s a more complicated question than you might expect.

Traditionally, scientists have studied “fear” in animals by measuring their reactions to threatening or unpleasant stimuli—a rat’s freezing response when it is subjected to a small electric shock, for instance. In studying humans, scientists have more options and a broader array of tools. Most importantly, humans can self-report, verbally or in writing: Yes, I felt afraid.

The complicating factor is that those two responses—the freezing and the feeling—are separate and distinct. As the neuroscientist Joseph LeDoux, an expert on the brain circuitry of fear, emphasizes in his book Anxious, we know that the physical fear response and the emotional feeling of fear are produced by two different mechanisms in the body.

For a long time, the working theory held that the feeling came first, in response to the fear stimulus, and then the physical response followed from the feeling. This is what’s known as the commonsense, or Darwinian, school of thought. But that was more an assumption than a proven mechanism, and these days it has fallen out of favor.

Instead, as science has turned its attention to working out that elusive mechanism more concretely, the neuroscientist Antonio Damasio has come up with an answer that, while provocative, ultimately feels right to me. The feeling, he argues in a pair of funny and wise books, Descartes’ Error and Looking for Spinoza, is actually derived from that same menu of physical reactions that we would typically view as accessories of, or adjacent to, our emotions.

For the purposes of his argument, Damasio makes an unusual distinction between “emotions”—by which, in this context, he specifically means the physical, measurable reactions of the body in response to an emotional stimulus, the physical fear response—and “feelings,” the intangible expressions of emotion in our minds. That may seem odd, or even nonsensical, but it’s a key to his case, so keep it in mind.

“We tend to believe that the hidden is the source of the expressed,” he writes in Looking for Spinoza. But he argues, instead, for a counter-intuitive reversal of that order: “Emotions”—again, meaning the physical reactions here—“and related phenomena are the foundation for feelings, the mental events that form the bedrock of our minds.”

All organisms have varying abilities to react to stimuli, from a simple startle reflex or withdrawal movement all the way up to more complex multi-part responses, like the description of our physical fear processes above, which are Damasio’s “emotions.” Some of the more basic responses might sometimes look, to our eyes, like expressions of the feeling of fear, and in fact the machinery that governs them is also implicated in the more complex processes. (My startle reflex, one of our oldest and simplest reactions, has certainly come into play at times when I’ve also felt afraid. Hello, raptors in the kitchen in Jurassic Park!) But the “emotions” are at the top of the heap in terms of complexity, and as such not all organisms are capable of generating them.

Unlike some of the simpler “fear” reactions in simpler organisms (poke a “sensitive plant,” watch its leaves curl up), our emotions can be generated by stimuli both real, in the moment, and remembered—or even imagined. That’s the gift and the burden of the human mind.

But for now, let’s stick with an in-the-moment example, like a strange noise heard in the night. The fact of the noise is captured by the sensory nerves in the ear and is relayed to the brain structures involved in triggering and then executing a response. Now your body is reacting in all the ways described above.

So far, so good? The next step, in Damasio’s formulation, is the creation of the feeling itself. We know that our bodies are laced with neurons, and that they not only send out information from the brain, they also receive it.

So after the outgoing messages have gotten our hearts pumping, our sweat beading, and so on, a series of incoming messages returns to the brain, bearing all of that information about our physical state. Our brains, Damasio explains, maintain incredibly complex maps of the state of the body, from our guts to our fingertips, at all times.

And here’s the core of his argument: when the incoming messages bearing news of the body’s physical fear-state alter these maps, that’s when the feeling itself arises. Your brain learns from your body that your heart is pounding, your pupils are dilated, your goosebumps are standing at attention. Your brain does the math and says, Aha! I am afraid!

In his 1884 essay, “What is an emotion?” the philosopher and psychologist William James wrote,

If we fancy some strong emotion and then try to abstract from our consciousness of it all the feelings of its bodily symptoms, we find we have nothing left behind, no “mind-stuff” out of which the emotion can be constituted, and that a cold and neutral state of intellectual perception is all that remains. . . . What kind of an emotion of fear would be left if the feeling neither of quickened heart-beats nor of shallow breathing, neither of trembling lips nor of weakened limbs, neither of gooseflesh nor of visceral stirrings, were present, it is quite impossible for me to think.

Damasio picks up where James left off. But he doesn’t just draw on Victorian-era philosophizing to make his argument. He also works from case studies and his own research; for instance, the case of a Parkinson’s patient in Paris. The woman, who was sixty-five years old and had no history of depression or other mental illness, was undergoing an experimental treatment for her Parkinson’s symptoms. It involved the use of an electrical current to stimulate motor-control areas of the brain stem via tiny electrodes.

Nineteen other patients had undergone the treatment successfully. But when the current entered the woman’s brain, she stopped chatting with the doctors, lowered her eyes, and her face slumped.

Seconds later, she began to cry, and then to sob. “I’m fed up with life,” she said, through her tears. “I’ve had enough ... I don’t want to live anymore ... I feel worthless.” The team, alarmed, stopped the current, and within ninety seconds the woman had stopped crying. Her face perked up again, the sadness melting away. What had just happened? she asked.

It turned out, according to Damasio, that instead of stimulating the nuclei that controlled her tremors, the electrode, infinitesimally misplaced, had activated the parts of the brain stem that control a suite of actions by the facial muscles, mouth, larynx, and diaphragm—the actions that allow us to frown, pout, and cry. Her body, stimulated not by a sad movie or bad news, had acted out the motions of sadness, and her mind, in turn, had gone to a dark, dark place. The feeling arose from the physical; her mind followed her body.

This whole thing seemed counterintuitive to me at first, reversing as it does the “commonsense” view. But then I sat back and really thought about my experience of fear. How do I recall it in my memory? How do I try to explain it to other people? The fact is that I think of it mostly in physical terms: that sick feeling in my gut, the tightness in my chest, maybe some dizziness or shortness of breath.

Think about how you actually experience the feeling of happiness, of contentment, or ease. For me, it manifests in the loosening of the eternally tense muscles in my forehead and jaw, in my neck and shoulders. My eyes open wider, losing the worried squint. I breathe more deeply.

Or think about the sheer physicality of deep grief, how it wrecks your body as well as your mind. When I look back on the worst of my grief after my mom’s death, I remember it as headaches, exhaustion, a tight chest, a sense of heaviness, and lethargy. I felt sad, yes—sadder than I’ve ever been—and it was my body that told me how sad I was.

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scootoaster · 4 years

Text

Where does fear actually come from?

Convention thinking says that the root of all fear lies in our brains. But what comes before then? (The National Museum in Oslo/)

Excerpt from Nerve: Adventures in the Science of Fear by Eva Holland. Reprinted with permission of The Experiment.

Fear, it seems at first, should be easy to identify and define. To borrow from that old judicial decision about the definition of obscenity: we know it when we feel it.

But what we need, really, isn’t just a solid catch-all definition. What we need, to understand the role of fear in our lives, is to examine the layers and varieties of fears that can afflict us.

Nerve by Eva Holland. (Courtesy of The Experiment/)

In his 1884 essay, “What is an emotion?” the philosopher and psychologist William James wrote,

Nineteen other patients had undergone the treatment successfully. But when the current entered the woman’s brain, she stopped chatting with the doctors, lowered her eyes, and her face slumped.

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jenss1524825980-blog · 7 years

Text

The Royal Agricultural Wintertime Fair.

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Due to the fact that Sunday, design projections for the storm keep track of have actually moved ever before thus somewhat to the west, closer to the coast. Cattle herder footwears still stepped the roads as well as destroy dancing floorings at honky tonks like the fabulous Gilley's, which sprawls over 90,000 just feet. A brief trip coming from Los Angeles, Los Cabos has actually come to be a winter play area for the rich and well-known. Mix your cozy wintertime retreat with amazing activities, like the Bahamas International Film Event. Shown listed here, 2 ladies off Port Hope along with Italian marrow squash at The Royal Agricultural Winter season Exhibition, Toronto, in 1955. When I locate wooley bear cattipilars in the fall I discovered that when they are much more black compared to orange the winter months appears actually chilly as well as snowey, when they are a lot more orange in comparison to dark the winter seems to become milder. Your chances at finding a threatened grizzly or even elk are respectable - the park is house to the most extensive elk herd in North America and a couple of grizzly bear populaces. Everything you could desire for a winter season wonderland wedding may be discovered in Pond Tahoe. Throughout winter months in either half, the lesser altitude from the Sunlight results in the sunlight to attack that hemisphere at a skew slant. . Artists develop a snow sculpture at a playground before the yearly Snowfall Exposition starts in Harbin, capital from northeast China's Heilongjiang Province, Dec Visit South Seaside, FL, this winter months to see the sexiest sunbathers in the US. Known as the 2nd home to several famous people, this Miami hood is also revered for its own warm and comfortable winter season climate, light Craft Deco architecture, unique bars, hip dress shop lodgings and high-end shops. 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In the Northern Half, the summer takes place around June 21 as well as is the longest time of the year.

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dangergirl16 · 7 years

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why yes, I *have* changed

“I don’t know Shells, I feel like you have changed and I don’t know how to take things.” – a close friend

This is hard for me to write. Nothing about the last 6 months has been easy. Though if I’m being completely honest, nothing about the last 19 months has been particularly easy – for reasons that are directly related to me now being a mom.

It was around 19 months ago that my husband and I realized that making a baby was not going to be as easy as we had been lead to believe. It was just the first realization of many that my life was changing in ways I couldn’t even begin to imagine or control (and being a mom showed me that I am, without a doubt, a control freak).

I’m not writing today because of the hardships and heartache I endured (often privately) because of my own (unexplained) infertility diagnosis, though it definitely compounds my particular feelings postpartum. Getting here was harder than I ever thought possible. I am writing to attempt to articulate how one of the best and most joyous experiences of my life has also been one of the most painfully isolating (both physically and emotionally) and heartbreaking experiences I have had in my short 30 years.

For better or worse, my son was born by way of an unexpectedly painful and unplanned emergency c-section after laboring for a full 24 hours. Because my epidural did not function properly, I had the unfortunate experience of feeling everything on my right side. I have lost track now how many times my pain meds were increased or which drugs were added to the cocktail to give me some kind of relief. However, instead of relief, I was still in pain but now completely disoriented. I think the actual words I uttered through my mask of laughing gas is “I feel drunk” – a strange sensation for someone who hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol in almost a year.

When you are pregnant, everyone and their mother want to give you advice to prepare you for labor. I’m telling you now that it’s all shit and even the best laid plans go awry. I didn’t have an intricate birth plan. In fact, one of the OBs at my practice laughed in my face when I questioned if I should even have one. My only goal was to ensure both baby and myself were healthy at the end of the day. Little did I really realize, I had envisioned the birth, and I had a plan, and Pitocin, and vomiting from intense never-ending contractions, and a painful c-section were not part of that plan. I vaguely knew these things were a possibility and could occur, of course, but they were interventions for “other women”. Not me.

Ha. Hahahaha.

I am very grateful for my choice to get an epidural because I can only imagine what it would have felt like sans pain management when my doctor stitched up a torn septum or when he pushed my son back up the birth canal after he failed to descend further, despite over a full hour of pushing. Even at the moment I was told son would be surgically removed from my body, I was okay. This was not going as planned (why did I even bother with a plan?), but now I knew it was only a matter of minutes until my son was in my arms.

Except…he wasn’t.

After the anesthesiologist had come in to explain how my epidural would be used during the c-section, he was called into an emergency surgery originally estimated to take no more than 20-30 minutes. Over an hour passed, and there I lay fighting the near constant urge to push, breathing through each contraction and again thankful I only felt pressure.

Finally I was taken into the operating room and prepped for surgery. My spirit had diminished greatly from the time I stopped pushing to the moment they wheeled me in. I was ready to be done. I was so exhausted (it was now very early Tuesday morning and I had been admitted late Sunday evening). All of this and everything that lead to this moment was taking the joy away from the birth of my first child, something I had been picturing for almost 2 full years. This was not the beautiful birth I had envisioned.

Instead, I had a back spasm on the operating table. Instead, I vomited (again), this time from the anesthesia. Instead, I felt all the cutting and tugging as my son was removed from my uterus. I tried to be in the moment, to stare at him in awe, but it was difficult when my body was still open, the pain still present, and I didn’t even know which baby to kiss when he was thrust in my face (ie: I was seeing double).

The next moments are a blur. The pain meds were increased or changed once my son was safely out. I vaguely remember making a joke about getting a tummy tuck while my doctor stapled me shut. But the pain was still there. Each bump the gurney rolled over filled me with dread. When would this nightmare (because that’s what it was now) end?

What I wanted most was to be clear headed and pain free. I wanted to see one of everything. And for reasons I still, almost 6 months later, can’t understand is why I refused to see my son once I reached recovery. Was he not the reason I put myself through all of this? The months of testing and becoming increasingly more depressed and panicked. The near daily blood draws to check my hcg levels during early pregnancy and the anxiety I endured waiting each day for the phone call confirming that they were in fact increasing. The anxiety I felt about 15 minutes after that phone call knowing I had to go back in two days to do the whole thing again. The joy I felt when I first stared at the ultrasound, pretending I saw evidence that I was actually pregnant. The terror I felt during a non-stress test that required additional monitoring in labor and delivery and almost caused me to be induced the week before my water broke on its own. The hours spent laboring through Pitocin and trying to remain med-free. The painful c-section and unhelpful and disorienting drugs. It was the moment I had waited almost a lifetime for – that amazingly wonderful skin-to-skin moment. And I refused to see my minutes old baby.

He spent the next 5 hours in the nursery, alone, not knowing his mother’s touch.

And that moment, when the pain was finally manageable, when my vision was restored, I realized what I had done – it set the mood for the next several weeks…okay, months.

It didn’t take long for the baby blues to set in. I wasn’t prepared for the intense sadness, joy, terror, and panic I felt almost simultaneously throughout the day, every day. Those nights recovering in the hospital were some of the loneliest nights ever with just me and my son – trying to figure this whole thing out and having no clue what to do (though I’m only marginally less clueless now). It didn’t help that even just taking care of my basic needs were a lot harder than I anticipated. Getting up out of my bed was often a minutes long process; the urgency with which I wanted – needed – to get to my baby’s bassinet was unattainable. And even when I did get there, I would nearly collapse in tears struck by the awe of his perfection and the terror that he was solely my responsibility now.

The mom guilt set in quickly.

I don’t know that I can fully convey the embarrassment I felt when, upon my discharge from the hospital, my nurse had earnestly asked me if I wanted to see the psychiatrist before I left because I hadn’t realized that I had been quietly crying the entire time she reviewed my at-home care.

If I had a time machine, I would go back to that moment and say yes. Maybe if I had said yes, I could have forgiven myself for the feeling of abandoning my son in his first moments outside my body. If I had said yes, maybe I wouldn’t have to make the painful choice of spending any free time with my son outside of my full-time job and taking the time to sit in a doctor’s office to discuss those early moments and why months later they still haunt me. Though if I really had a time machine, I’d go back to the moment I refused my son, and I would hold him and soak in all that newborn goodness. I’d make sure he felt loved and wanted. I’d fill the gaping hole in my heart where that memory should be instead of filling it with regret.

It’s been a hard adjustment – not just to motherhood and all the guilt and regrets that were unknowingly a part of the package, but also in dealing with how my relationships would change with my closest friends who are not yet at this point in their lives.

I can try to chalk it up to a matter of miscommunication, but the fact remains that not long after my pregnancy became public knowledge, I was suddenly given a whole lot of extra space that I hadn’t asked for. This infinitely empty space became even bigger and darker once my son was born.

I don’t know now how to repair any damage that has been done by these changing relationships and my frequent inability to cope with those early regrets, which sadly and unfortunately tends to shape how I interact and socialize with people when I am lucky enough to be included. As time goes on, most days are good days, but days like today, or the last few days (the countless days following a particularly nasty fight with a friend), have been hard and brought me back to those early moments. Just when I think that I have finally sorted through the pain and the regrets and the anxiety, the wound is torn open again.

So when I am told that I have changed, that I seem different, and sometimes negative more often than not, I tend to agree. I have changed. My body is not my own. My sleep is at the mercy of a tiny little human. I am also trying hard to reconcile those early moments, to find the balance between work life and home life, mother life and friend life. I am human. I went through something. I am trying; I am getting help. And if you have gathered anything at all from these ramblings, I hope that you have gathered that I am not perfect and never claimed to be.

How could I possibly be anything other than different from who I was before?

#ppd #ppa #momlife

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kristablogs · 4 years

Text

Where does fear actually come from?

Convention thinking says that the root of all fear lies in our brains. But what comes before then? (The National Museum in Oslo/)

Excerpt from Nerve: Adventures in the Science of Fear by Eva Holland. Reprinted with permission of The Experiment.

Fear, it seems at first, should be easy to identify and define. To borrow from that old judicial decision about the definition of obscenity: we know it when we feel it.

But what we need, really, isn’t just a solid catch-all definition. What we need, to understand the role of fear in our lives, is to examine the layers and varieties of fears that can afflict us.

Nerve by Eva Holland. (Courtesy of The Experiment/)

In his 1884 essay, “What is an emotion?” the philosopher and psychologist William James wrote,

Nineteen other patients had undergone the treatment successfully. But when the current entered the woman’s brain, she stopped chatting with the doctors, lowered her eyes, and her face slumped.

0 notes