#or go out to people and risk embarrassment which will worsen my anxiety which will make me isolate again

[gayjunebug]

embarrassed today

so yesterday i joined some discord servers bc we gotta battle the anxiety also i want to make some friends, generally the effect was me feeling like vomiting bc i wrote 'hi'.

either way, time skip, we have today, writing with some person on one of them and mentioning i feel a bit sick after p.e., in answer to if ive been to a doctor about it, i said that i think its probably because of my diet and generally poor physical endurance so running isnt really for me, and like some mod said that hey talking about dieting is banned here, i clarified that i meant eating habits, later found out that 'eating disorders' also includes just mentioning i have any eating issues??? like i know its kinda obvious but idk. im kinda used to 'eating disorder' not including just limited food palate due to sensory issues.

yeah. anyway not talking on that server for at least a day god i feel so fucking bad after this.

[aikoeisbon]

Haunting

Levi x Reader

TW: Self Harm

Therapeutic drabble. May be triggering to some, but it's how I help myself.

The sweltering heat of a midsummer's day had convinced a large amount of the survey corps to remain inside, and as a result, the stables were void of all people. You, on the other hand, had been scheduled to care for the horses on this particular day. You had discarded your jacket, opting to wear your undershirt as you worked to muck out stalls and feed the horses. As hot as it was, you figured your steed would appreciate a nice, cool bath, so you slipped her halter on and lead her down the long pathway of the stable towards it's rear, where the buckets and water were. You rolled up your sleeves as you began to fill the buckets, throwing sponges in there and allowing them to soak prior to lathering your horse with a bit of blandly-scented soap.

"Oi." A voice startled you as you snapped your head up towards the source of the noise. Levi was approaching your mare, hand outstretched for her nose while his eyes flickered down towards you. You heaved, carrying two buckets of water to beside your horse before shifting to return for the third, only to find Levi carrying it over with ease.

"Thanks. What brings you here?"

"I was looking for you. Hanji said you were on stall duty." Levi replied as you poured water onto the mare's back. He grimaced as she shook her coat, flinging specks of water onto his face.

"Did you need something?" You inquired as he wiped the droplets off his face with his forearm.

"Erwin wanted to speak with you." He stated in answer, watching as you began to scrub the mare with a sponge.

"The Commander?... Must be important then. I'll be finished in a bit. And here I was thinking you missed me." You raised your gaze up to meet his grey orbs and shot his a humorous smirk as you hunched over a bucket, rinsing the sponge and returning back to washing the animal. She dropped her damp head down, pushing Levi with it as she raised it against him, using him as a scratching post.

"Tch, cut that shit out." His brows furrowed, irritated with his now somewhat wet uniform with pieces of black fur here and there. He pushed her head away from him, in which she had responded with a low nicker. Levi moved beside you, reaching for a sponge to help out. As he went to stand straight again, his eyes picked up a bit of color from your arms. He trained his gaze on your flesh as you scrubbed away, his expression becoming flat as he identified the dull red stripes. The more closely he paid attention, the more lines he discovered- though these were white. Living in the underground, he was not blind to the fact people did this to themselves. Though as hard as things were for them, he still somewhat struggled to understand why. He understood being angry with yourself- even to the point of hating yourself or your situation so much you were suicidal. But to worsen your pain by making it physical? He could not wrap his head around that. From what he saw in the underground, whatever you were feeling or going through must have been as dismal and extreme as it would be in the underground. It caused him great concern, but his unenthused face did not reflect that. He simply narrowed his eyes, and shot his hand out for your arm.

"What?" You said almost defensively, startled by his sudden movement. It hadn't clicked what he was doing until you followed his line of sight, only then realizing your scars were in plain sight. You furrowed your brow, attempting to pull your arm back to your chest only to find it was secure in Levi's grip.

"Why?" He muttered, snatching your other arm in his iron grip as well. His chest tightened when he saw the same type of marks on that arm as well.

"Let go." You commanded, your voice quiet and low. His grip was unrelenting, his stare stern and serious. "Levi, let go!!!" You raised your voice, throwing your hands down in another attempt to free yourself from his grasp. He released you just as quickly as he grabbed you again, this time by your upper arm rather than your forearms. "Stop it!" You complained angrily as he led you to sit down. He noticed you wince as he grabbed you, and could only imagine why.

"Tch." He frowned. "Don't move." He ordered as he left you at a bench a near distance away. You watched him quickly finish bathing your horse, the fury in his eyes not at all wavering. The pit in your stomach was creeping up your throat. Would he find you disgusting now? Would he think you were too much to handle? Crazy? A risk? A liability? The anxiety you felt over those thoughts did nothing but intensify the longer this dragged on, until finally Levi walked past with your horse in tow. "Come on." He commanded, his voice still cold. You knew him better than anyone, you've seen what love looked like in his eyes, as well as malice, but this expression in his steel blue hues... You couldn't identify it. Maybe that is what scared you the most: The fear of the unknown. Perhaps Levi shared this fear too, which is why he felt this tense uneasiness. How long had you been doing this? How could he have missed this? Was there more you were doing he did not know about? Why wouldn't you come to him? Was it something... he did to cause this? As Levi locked the horse in the stall in front of him, you felt as though you were shrinking behind his back.

"Those could get infected." Is all he said before you grabbed your jacket and followed him back to headquarters, beelining for the infirmary. Levi was relieved to see it was empty, as he had plenty of things to ask you about. "Sit." He directed, pointing at a chair.

"Please don't tell the others about this." You pleaded quietly. His eyes and their ice-cold glare finally met yours.

"I'm more concerned with why you didn't tell me." He stated flatly as you removed your jacket once more, offering your arms out to him. His eyes traced over the red lines. Most were old, having healed completely and left nothing but white lined scars. Some seemed fresher, the scars still red- almost purple- and rather thick. The ones he was most worried with, were the dark red, thick lines that seemed days old. At the very least, none were still bleeding...

"It's embarrassing. It's none of your business, anyways..." You responded meekly as Levi cleaned your arms with antiseptic. They were closed enough to where you felt very mild pain, at worst.

"If someone punched you, it'd be my business. If you went missing, it'd be my business. If you got sick? My business. What makes you think this is any different?" Levi spat, leaving you in silence. He sighed. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong. Do you know what these say to me?" He questioned earnestly, his eyes flickering up to yours. You raised your brows in subtle inquisition. "They tell me you don't trust me enough to tell me what's on your mind. That I won't or can't help you, so instead you take it out on yourself. Thing is, you won't know if I can help you or not unless you give me a shot."

"I'm sorry..." Your words shook, tears welling in your eyes.

"...Am I doing something wrong?" Levi's question earned your attention, and for the first time, you saw the man you loved with a truly broken countenance plastered on his face, his pain pooling in his eyes. You reached out to him.

"No, no, no... Levi." You quaked, pulling him against you as you came to your knees out of the chair. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. The guilt of doing this is half the reason why I do it. I feel so pathetic, like even if I spoke out, nobody would believe me. I didn't want anyone to think less of me, like I was crazy, or did this for attention, I-"

"You are crazy, brat." Levi muttered, raising an arm to run his fingers through your hair and keep you pressed against him as he supported himself with his other arm. You could hear in his voice he said that with a smirk. You chuckled under your breath.

"Crazy about you," you laughed. "but that's besides the point. I... wanted people to continue thinking I'm strong. Not some weirdo that succumbs to her problems like... this." You backed away from him, looking downcast at your own body. "There's so many things I wish were different about me." Levi listened intently.

"Doing this doesn't mean you aren't strong. Everyone has their own ways of coping, some are healthier than others. That doesn't mean I'm going to let you keep doing this." He watched you swallow, seemingly nervous beneath his intense gaze. "I don't know what's right or wrong when it comes to coping. I never have. But there's no way I'll stand by and watch the woman I love tear herself apart." You remained quiet, hanging to each of his words. He moved closer towards your face, sure he was making eye contact. "This is our problem now. If you feel like hurting yourself, we'll go spar. If that doesn't take your mind off it, I'll show you hurt. You need to focus when training anyways." You couldn't help but grin internally at Levi's tough-love methods of helping. "But you're done doing this. I can't believe I'm only noticing now."

"Well, there's a reason why I'll only sleep with you when the lights are out."

"...Erwin needs to see you. Remember this talk." Levi muttered as he picked himself off the floor, offering a hand out to you.

"Wouldn't forget it if I tried."

[forbidding-souda]

sorry if this is a bit much but can i please request a female reader having a secret crush on souda & putting love letters into his locker? and then souda finds out its her and confesses? tysm!

Kazuichi Souda with fem! Reader that has a secret crush on him

Ya’ll are so creative this is so cute yes yes yes this is gonna get a lil cliche just bc it’s me and i’m outta pocket rn it’s 23:00 deal with me for now

I was gonna americanize it but I really wanted to go with my comfort of calling him Souda instead of Kazuichi - so on that note - does Hope’s Peak Academy have getabako’s????? Does anyone know??? Bc istg those kids wear their outside shoes in that academy.... maybe only the reserve course wears the indoor slippers LMAO.

Also btw am i the only one who liek??? Am I tripping or does my tumblr not notify me when my asks are answered? Bc when I checked the accounts of the people, my ask was posted, but I didn’t get a notification ya’ll am I tripping or.

-Mod Souda

Once again, you spend most of your class time with color pencils, coloring the edges of the paper you wrote on that morning. You shade in hearts, lollipops, and cute things of the sorts.

The writing, in perfect pen, just compliments him on the kind things about him. His beautiful smile, his joyful laugh... oh, just everything you love about him!

Even thinking about him makes your chest all fuzzy, plus a little twing of anxiety.

You have started putting love letters on his shoes in the getabako, which is a fine venting system to get your feelings out directly but anonymously, but when will you get tired of it? 

Putting your love letters in such a dirty area is disgusting on your behalf, too, but it’s better than risking it to try and put them on his desk.

It’s not going to satisfy your need for communication for much longer.

He’s also obsessed with Sonia, which isn’t a plus on your behalf. Just thinking about it gives you a headache. 

Souda, make it make sense!

You sigh through your nose once the bell rings. Pack up the color pencils and wait for him to put on his shoes and leave. That’s easy. 

Just like every other day.

He talks with Tanaka when he walks, passing your classroom. You distinguish his voice immediately.

It’s interesting, actually. The two of you have almost never talked. Well, maybe a bit.

You’re a nice friend of one of his classmates, so when you often get free time after school, you can sneak your way into the bunch.

Every conversation with him is ingrained into your memory. You couldn’t stop being amazed by him! His hair, his smile, his eyes. You complimented it all!

Now, you follow their voices down the hall, waving bye to your peers while slipping the note in your book bag.

Thoughts start to slip into your mind. What if he is going to start waiting by his getabako? Has he planted one of his friends to try and spy you out?

Maybe places them there isn’t safe anymore.

Or you’re just being overly suspicious. Jeez, this is all too overwhelming!

After putting on your shoes, you look over. His locker is void of people after all. 

Again, you put the note on his slippers before walking away.

How embarrassing.

The next morning, you wake up early to get ready for school. 

And then, you take time to start writing your love letter of the day.

Your mind seems to be occupied recently with Souda Kazuichi. Is that really healthy? 

Maybe you should start focusing on other things.

You should paint your nails. Yes, that’ll help!

What color does Souda like? He does like pink, doesn’t he? Pink will do then.

Sitting, with music playing softly in your house, you paint your nails a vibrant shade of pink while the sun begins to open up in the morning sky.

Being slow isn’t exactly your whole deal. So you were cautious enough to paint your nails after getting all ready. And with wet nails, you pack your halfway written letter and head out the door.

You blow on your nails the entire time there, whining once you notice the smudges on some of your fingers. Embarrassing! You should have spent more time to wait for them to dry. 

It doesn’t matter all that much anyways. Not like anyone will notice your nails.

Souda is putting on his shoes by the time you get there. Around the same time, how romantic.

You smile a bit.

“Hey, Y/N!” He greets. You take a short time to scan his person for the note. It’s tucked into his pocket, you can vaguely see. At least he has it.

“Good morning, Souda!” You wave to him.

He pauses for a moment. It draws you back a few steps. Is it not morning? Is that not his name? What did you say wrong?

“Did you paint your nails pink?” He asks, eyes wide with amusement.

That’s a relief. But also not. He wasn’t supposed to notice.

“Oh, yes I did, but I smudged them though so I’m not too happy about how they turned out.” Stepping close to him, you display your nails out.

“You did them this morning?”

Every part of you is nervous. What should you say? What can you even respond with? Will he think it’s weird?

“I had the time.” You just say before turning to but on your slippers. He smiles from behind your back.

In class, as usual, you spend your time decorating the card. And since you didn’t finish it in the morning, you even wrote some of the words in different colors! It looks cute, and it’s definitely a way to waste your time. Nothing really goes on in Hope’s Peak Academy. Who knew.

But eventually, after the school day, you put the letter on his shoes. Hopefully he isn’t cheating by waiting.

That always plagues your mind. But he wouldn’t do that.

The walk home is peaceful. The sky is cloudy again, and if you look up, it’s cellphone wires and a blueish grey hue. Not gloomy as always.

Maybe you’re just happy.

Happiness. It’s such a positive thing. A boy - that doesn’t even belong to you - is making you happy? It seems like such a timeless, fleeting thing.

Hopefully it can be permanent.

The morning comes again, where you eat breakfast and prepare for your day at the academy.

You stare at yourself a little longer in the mirror today. Would Souda like you? 

Your hands run down your shirt. Of course he would! You shouldn’t be so silly.

Packing up the daily note, you make your way to school again.

The sun peers down at you. That’s sweet. Brightening up your day.

It makes you laugh a little.

When you get to school, you don’t see him. He’s probably already in class.

You slip on your shoes before calmly walking towards your class.

Oh?

Souda stands, his arms crossed, looking anxious. 

You almost turn around.

Bye.

But he notices you quickly, his eyes lightening a bit. The deep fear in your gut doesn’t go away, only worsening as he steps closer to you. You’re frozen in place. Your feet have melted to the ground.

“H-Hey-”

“It’s you, isn’t it?” He almost looks excited.

“What?” Unbelievable.

“The notes... it’s you, right?”

Your cheeks start to heat. “Just tell me if you planted someone to wait for me to put them down. Is that how you figure it out? Jeez, I assumed you weren’t going to cheat like that!”

Every possible emotion swirls through his eyes for a second before settling on a soft smugness. He pulls out a letter from your pocket, and twisting it to show the back. “You smeared that pink nail polish on it.”

Honestly, you had assumed that had happened. It wasn’t a big deal until he noticed your nails that morning.

He continues, “But yes! I love the notes you give me, I was looking forward to them every day! I really think you’re cute, S/O... so do you want to go on a date with me... sometime maybe?” 

His confidence drizzles the more he went on.

Your heart levitates. It is like your entire body is surrounded by hearts.

“Oh, of course! That would be lovely!”

The two of you stand there, bewildered by each other. It’s quiet for a second.

“I - uhm... see you after school, then?” He suggests.

“That would be lovely, Souda.”

A blush forms on his face. “You can call me Kazuichi.”

[alltheselights]

Snippet

Someone on Twitter asked me for this and since I suck, I’m posting it. This is for my fic Secret’s Safe With Me and it probably won’t make much sense unless you’ve read this snippet I already posted.

--

On Monday morning, Louis wakes up early and puts extra effort into his outfit, even taking the time to dig the iron out of the back of the hall closet so his pants will be properly creased and his sweater won’t look like he just slept in it. He may be fired today, but at least he’ll look neat and professional doing it. 

Zayn’s only half awake when Louis leaves, but he gives Louis a sleepy kiss on the cheek and wishes him luck.

Louis times his arrival at work so he’ll be walking in around 9AM alongside most of his coworkers, hoping that he can slip in largely unnoticed. Brad’s already been texting Louis for an hour telling him to keep him updated on what happens, which is only worsening Louis’ anxiety.

His plan works for the most part, though Louis still acts with extra caution by taking the eight flights of stairs up to his floor rather than risk being packed into the elevator with coworkers who might ask questions he’s never going to be ready to answer. Louis is sweating and panting by the time he makes it up all those stairs, but when he manages to get to his cubicle unnoticed, he knows he made the right call.

Louis immediately collapses into his chair, taking a moment to catch his breath. He sits there with his back tensed as he turns on his laptop, convinced that Simon or one of the other higher ups will round on him at any moment and chew him out in front of the entire floor.

After about ten minutes pass with nobody approaching Louis’ cubicle, however, he breathes a sigh of relief as he realizes everyone is too busy running around and preparing for Harry Styles’ arrival to worry about him or last week’s meeting. Louis knows this distraction will pass once Styles arrives and has been introduced to everyone, but for now, he takes the win for what it is and allows himself to relax slightly.

He’s responding to some pressing emails and adding scheduled meetings to his calendar — not that he’ll have the chance to attend them since he’ll probably be unemployed by then — when he realizes that his coworkers are still running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Everyone is frantically dusting desktops, shoving stacks of documents into drawers, triple checking that there’s paper in every printer, and restocking every type of coffee and tea you can imagine in the kitchen.

Louis glances around his own cubicle. He isn’t exactly known for his tidiness — admittedly, he’s actually better known for the tornado of a mess that he leaves behind him wherever he goes. Thankfully, his desk space is minimal considering he has both a desktop computer and a laptop, but Louis figures the least he could do while he’s still employed is make his work space look presentable for when young Mr. Styles arrives.

Louis hides his cigarettes in his desk drawer, which he should actually be doing daily since they keep going missing. Louis suspects it’s Liam who’s stealing them ever since he stopped buying them himself, trying to convince himself and everyone around him that he’s quitting any day now.

Then Louis rounds up all of his pens, shoving them carelessly into the Doncaster Rovers mug he uses to organize them, and flips his calendar to the correct month since he’s a quarter of a year behind in doing that.

There are also a ton of papers in three different tall stacks around Louis’ cubicle, including one on the floor in front of his rubbish bin, so he begins doing the quickest sort through them possible. He gets so into the task that he fails to realize when the noise and bustle all around him finally slows down. If he stopped for a moment, he would probably realize that Mr. Harry Styles has finally arrived and all of his coworkers have now transitioned into doing everything in their power to look hard at work.

It’s only when Louis hears Oli, the guy two cubicles away from him, introduce himself to someone that Louis finally stops what he’s doing long enough to recognize that he’s moments away from meeting the new CEO of Kiwi Corporation and the person who will likely decide his fate later today.

Louis wants nothing more than to lean back in his spinning chair and peek around the side of the cubicle wall to see what the new CEO looks like, but he’s an adult and doesn’t want to embarrass himself, so he resists.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Louis hears a deep voice say. Louis freezes. It’s obviously the Styles kid’s voice and he sounds genuine enough in his pleasure at meeting Louis’ co-worker, but that’s not what catches Louis off-guard. Instead, it’s the eerie familiarity of that voice that sends a cold chill down his’ spine. Louis only heard that voice very briefly, but he’s heard echos of it in his head all weekend. He would recognize it anywhere.

Louis refuses to believe it. Sure, they have the name in common, but it’s not like Harry is an uncommon name, particularly in the UK. Louis would’ve sooner expected Prince Harry himself to show up as the new CEO of Kiwi Corp than a random man he encountered during one flight to London.

Louis takes a deep breath and counts to ten in his head, completely blocking out the conversation between Harry and Louis’ immediate cubicle neighbor after Harry moves on from Oli.

When Louis finally hears his own name, it’s not by that deep voice. Instead, it’s Simon Cowell’s annoyingly condescending tone that tries to capture his attention.

Louis inhales and exhales again slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose before finally turning his chair around. If Louis were less dramatic, he would admit that it only takes him a second to spin around and face Simon and Harry, but in the moment, it feels like it takes forever for them to meet face to face.

And of course, that’s when Louis can no longer deny the nightmare unfolding before him — a nightmare worse than one Louis’ brain could ever conjure by itself because it would seem too unrealistic.

Harry Styles, the new CEO of Kiwi Corporation and Louis’s new boss, is none other than the handsome Harry that Louis spilled all his secrets to on the plane.

An expression of surprise immediately overtakes over Harry’s face, immediately followed by an expression that’s difficult to place. The closest description of it that Louis can offer is that it’s an infuriating combination of delight and self-satisfaction.

“Louis, this is our new CEO, Mr. Harry Styles. And Mr. Styles, this is Louis Tomlinson, our marketing assistant,” Simon says snidely, looking at Louis like a bug that he’s about to crush under his shoe. Knowing Simon, that’s probably not far off from what’s about to happen. “He’s the one we’ll need to have a conversation about later.”

Louis refuses to wince at that. Instead, he gets to his feet for a proper greeting, though he avoids eye contact with Harry as he does so. He takes the opportunity to take in Harry’s outfit, which consists of a black suit that appears to have sequins on it. It’s a unique vibe for a CEO, Louis will admit, and it’s certainly worlds away from the horribly fitted and bland suits always worn by the elder Mr. Styles, but Harry pulls it off.

Once Louis is on his feet, he reaches out to shake Harry’s hand. He hopes his hand isn’t sweaty, but he figures at this point, there’s not much more he could do to embarrass himself in front of this man.

When their hands meet in a firm clasp, Louis finally looks up at Harry’s face again. Harry is giving him a smile with dimples, which makes Louis feel like someone who’s brought a butter knife to a gunfight. It’s unfair.

“Louis Tomlinson,” Louis says, his voice impressively steady considering the butterflies tearing through his gut. He also opens his mouth to say “nice to meet you” as part of the natural progression of an introduction, but since it is very much not their first meeting, Louis snaps his jaw closed.

“So nice to meet you, Louis Tomlinson,” Harry says smoothly, letting go of his hand. Louis wets his bottom lip and meets Harry’s eyes again just in time to see him wink.

Okay, so that’s how they’re­ going to be playing it. For now, at least. Harry is clearly not keen on making anyone else aware of the incident on the plane, though perhaps that’s only because he’s planning on using it against Louis privately or bringing it up at an opportunity for prime embarrassment later. Regardless, Louis is grateful that their previous encounter is not being called out in front of Simon right now.

“Simon,” Louis says then, nodding in the man’s direction.

“So good to see you, even after what happened Friday,” Simon says, sticking out his own hand, clearly intent on exchanging a handshake with Louis as well. Louis grits his teeth and forces a smile.

He takes a step toward Simon as he accepts the handshake, intentionally pressing his foot down on the toe of Simon’s boot in the process. Immediately, Louis’ smile widens into something more genuine.

“Only four days without me and you missed me this much,” Louis says, just as Simon cries out in pain from his toe being crushed under Louis’ foot. “Oh, sorry, Si,” Louis adds, glancing down at their feet.

“Well, I don’t want to hold you up when you have so many people to meet,” Louis says without giving Simon the chance to complain, stepping back again. When he looks back at their new CEO, Harry is biting his lip like he’s trying not to laugh. Louis’ heart thumps in his chest. “See you around, Mr. Styles.”

[bluehhj]

listen to me — chapter 16

LISTEN TO ME  — 0016

listen to me masterlist;

WORDS: 2.4K

The next day, Jisung woke up with a headache so strong that the world around him seemed about to explode. His stomach burned and wrapped at the same time. He was going to vomit soon; however, he didn't want this to happen, for he knew that he would lose the little strength he still had to assimilate the last events correctly. Definitely, Jisung hated feeling the effects of the hangover.

His first move was to get out of bed and look for the headache remedy that never came out of his reach. Keeping balance with the help of the walls and any object that would enable him to support his own body, the boy walked to the kitchen, filled a glass with water and swallowed the tablet. When the icy liquid hit his empty and sensitized stomach, the feeling of malaise only worsened. Jisung needed to eat something, but he wasn't hungry. Not when last night's flashes insisted on appearing in your mind like a badly made movie and spreading a fair amount of panic to the rest of his nervous system. After all, what the hell had he done?

Jisung looked down and saw that he was wearing only a pair of underwear. His hair was a little damp, as if he'd washed and slept on it without even bothering to brush. He couldn't remember how he had taken off his clothes, much less how he had thought of taking a shower before bed — he was sure he did, as he checked the bathroom stall and noticed that it was still slightly wet. Jisung wasn't sure of much, but a single clear and vivid scene compared to the others played in a loop before his eyes: Jinah was at his house. And that wasn't good.

Stumbling on his own feet, Han grabbed his phone and jumped back into bed. He looked up Woojin's number on the contact list and, more than quickly, called his friend. The last one must still be sleeping, since it was only eleven in the morning — when they went out at night, Woojin used to sleep all day, so, yes, it was still early. The call was terminated without any answer, but Jisung was persistent. He called once, twice, three times, until Woojin's momentarily hoarse timbre sounded on the other side, surrounded by a deep state of lethargy:

"What do you want, hell?"

"Why am I just in my underwear and why do I have the fucking memory of Jinah here at home?" Jisung asked in a single breath; then, heard a lazy laugh.

"Don't you remember?", Woojin replied with another question. "I think she's going to be a bit upset. It's hard to forget these things, especially when it comes to the first time."

"Don't play with me like that" Jisung wanted the older boy to believe that he really wasn't putting faith in that absurd explanation, but his face was paler than a sheet of paper. "Tell the truth."

Woojin would've made some more jokes, but he didn't want to have to deal with the fury of that new version of Jisung later, when he discovered the truth. It was a bit dangerous and Kim still had to finish his college.

"I don't know that right, man", he was sincere. "You drank like hell, suddenly said you were going to the bathroom, and when we realized, you were already crying on Jinah's shoulder over Chaerin."

Jisung buried his face in the pillow. That alone was enough to embarrass him for the next two months, and he hadn't even heard the worst yet.

"I took you home later. Jinah was with me, then went along, too. Are you ready to listen to the rest?"

"No."

"Right. In my head, I was just going to stuck you under the cold water, pull back and throw you in bed, but you said, with all the words, that I wasn't worthy to have the sight of your splendid body."

"Until then, I didn't say any bullshit."

"But Jinah was worthy, you know? You asked her to give you a shower without shame.", continued Woojin. "You left all happy when she accepted and you banged your head on the doorframe. That must be why it is hurting now."

Jisung widened his eyes at every word said by the older boy. In the end, it seemed to have two dishes below the eyebrows. If before the water was already cooling his stomach, now it had turned into a mini-iceberg.

"And then?" the fear of finding the answer was as big as curiosity.

"Ouch, I don't know. I just laid on your couch and went to sleep. When Jinah woke me up, she was all red, flushed, and her hair messy, then we left. I don't know if you even kissed in there, but it looked like, you know?"

"No, no, no..." Jisung began to despair. It was horrible to try to get in your memory the information you wanted so bad to get and find nothing but gaps. "I don't remember!"

"Ask her then", Woojin suggested as if that were the simplest and most uncomplicated route.

"I can't, that's... That's too embarrassing! Jinah's my friend!"

"So what? I kissed all my friends, including you."

"I didn't call you to talk about things that happened years ago!" Jisung snorted. "What if something really happened? I'll do what?"

"You'll enjoy it, of course." Woojin didn't think twice before answering. "When life sends you a woman like that, you don't question, you thank!"

"If you don't remember, I just got out of an engagement in the hardest way possible. I don't have the stability or the urge to get into another relationship any time soon, whether it's serious or not."

"Aish, Jisung..." although the other couldn't see, Woojin rolled his eyes. "I'm not saying it's easy to go through what you're going through now, but life doesn't stop, you have to move on!"

"I can't move on in that way," quieter, Jisung sighed. "I can't try something different with one person while my heart's still pounding for another, and I don't want to use anyone else's as a bandage, let alone Jinah."

Woojin was silent for a moment. He didn't agree, but he couldn't help but understand that, at one point, Jisung was right. "So, what do you intend to do?" he asked, with no more arguments.

"Apologize" the younger boy got up from the bed and walked toward the bathroom.

"Are you going to call her?"

"I don't even have her number." he frowned at this, but didn't blame himself for his lack of attention. Jisung already had too many problems and obligations on a daily basis, such as dealing with a broken heart; tolerate the absurd meddling of people of the university in his life; take a deep breath to keep from freaking out before his electronic store notice came to an end; to prepare his psychological for the bomb that accompanied the last two periods of his course ─ which was denominated like the notorious stage (that would begin in that same week) ─ and more an infinity of things. Jinah had arrived and settled in his life not long ago, she still didn't deserve such high priority. "I'll talk to her in person."

"See if you're not going to ask her to bathe you again, eh?"

"Fuck you, Woojin."

Having the call terminated, no thanks or goodbye, my friend made itself heard. It was enviable how much the basis of that relationship was sweet and provided with much affection, attention, education, and companionship. An example of friendship full of love!

                                                        ♡˖°

Jinah waited for a reaction from her friends as she finished her fateful account of last night's events, yet, she had to hold on to the anxiety and stare at the three faces, not at all surprised until Jade resolved to break the silence and drop one:

"I warned you."

"Didn't even shock an egg," Chan added.

"But you guys don't understand!" Jinah squirmed on the couch. There was little left to throw herself on the ground and start making drama about how unfair and meaningless her life was. "I can't even like a little of him, that should be out of the question!"

"A little?" Changbin arched an eyebrow. "I'd say you really like Jisung very, very, veeeery much."

"You don't have to exaggerate, either."

"Jinah, you've been freaking out since seven in the morning, didn't let anyone sleep," Jade stated. "That's because the guy just threatened to kiss you; so, no, it's not an exaggeration."

"I don't even want to see when this kiss really happens," Chan added again.

"That's the problem. That kiss won't really happen," Jinah claimed with all conviction. "Yesterday was a fatality. Jisung was very drunk and must've let himself go, but that doesn't change the fact that he not only likes, but loves Chaerin, and there's nothing I can do to change that," she sighed sadly. "And everything repeats itself again..."

"Oh, JinJin, it's not like that either." Changbin wrapped an arm around Jinah's neck, to comfort her. "He can learn to love other people over time."

"Or not," the girl retorted. "And I, honestly, don't want to wait to take the risk again."

Jinah was just tired of watching her heart always picking the wrong people. Tired of being just that medicine that others use to recover and, when they can, discard the empty card. With Jisung it wouldn't be any different.

"I just have to forget this while I still have time," she continued, shrugging her shoulders. "I've gotten over worse things, anyway."

Jade opened her lips, but her next sentence had to die in her mouth as the bell rang and Chan smelled burned from the kitchen; soon, the american got up to open the door and the aussie was trying to save the lunch.

Jisung swallowed as the girl's face changed dramatically when she saw that the visitor was none other than her newly declared enemy.

"Jinah's there?" he spoke directly, already afraid that the girl would invent some lie just to keep him from stepping in her house for a few minutes, but, Jade merely sent him a merely friendly look and gave him room to enter the apartment.

The symptoms of liking someone are usually very clear, such as Jinah's faint despair about her pajamas and her face from who hadn't slept in days. Appearing so untidy in front of Jisung wrapped her stomach, but she soon tried to scare the feeling, thinking that her goal from that moment was to destroy any unrelated feelings besides friendship when it came to Han. It'd even be good for the boy to see her deplorable appearance, so he'd eliminate any chance of a second kissing attempt between the two ─ if it wasn't already completely and utterly extinct.

Changbin greeted the newcomer briefly and followed his girlfriend into the kitchen. Being alone with Jinah, Jisung bit his cheek inside and did everything he could to keep the shame from taking action, but it was such a difficult task!

"You visiting me at this time?" Jinah pointed with her chin at the seat next to her and tried to act as she always did with the boy. She couldn't make it clear that she only wanted to open a hole in the ground and hide her head like an ostrich. "Or rather, you visiting me? What bug bit you?"

"I came to apologize," Jisung sat down "for happened yesterday. I wasn't very well."

"I noticed" Jinah forced a laugh. "But that's okay, it happens."

"Talking about it..." Han tucked his lower lip in his teeth, visibly uncomfortable with the conversation, but curiosity was always bigger. "What happened yesterday? At..." his cheeks flushed. Lovely! Jinah soon blamed herself for the unwelcome thought. "At bath time."

"Nothing. I barely touched you, I swear. You just complained a lot, but with that I'm kind of used to."

"It's just that Woojin said you looked nervous when you woke him up to leave."

Jinah found herself in front of three paths, where one of them was to pretend to have alzheimer, the other to lie, saying that nothing happened, and the last to tell the truth. Considering that she hated that people lied to her and believed that a good friendship was built on the basis of trust, she chose the third path.

"You tried to kiss me."

"Did I?" Jisung wanted to die, there was no other way of describing what he felt.

"Yeah, but you slept about two minutes later. You can calm down, nothing much has happened."

The boy opened and closed his mouth several times, but not even shaking his hands in an almost desperate gesture to try to recover the gift of speech, he managed to explain himself properly. Ouch, that had at least an explanation!

"Sorry," he finally said. "I didn't want to do it, I'm sorry."

"I already said it's okay." Jinah dismissed the other's concern with a snap of the tongue in the roof of her mouth. "That wouldn't have happened if you hadn't been drunk."

"Not at all" hearing the confirmation of what she intimately knew already was even worse, Jinah proved. "But I didn't want things to get strange between us."

"Things between us have always been strange, Jisung."

"But not in that sense."

"For the third time, I repeat: it's okay, you have nothing to worry about," Jinah reinforced, noting that the boy was almost as stubborn as she was. "Now forget about it. Do you want to eat something? I don't think there's lunch, but there's pizza."

"No, I have to go." Jisung stood up. He lied about not being hungry, but he feared he might die choking if he'd been in the sights of Jade's eyes for a long time. "Thank you. For yesterday and for the invitation."

"No need to thank." Jinah also lifted her body from the sofa and followed the boy to the door. "Friends are good for that" somehow, even if it was because of fatigue, she had to convince herself that they would never be something more than that.

And she really would've been convinced, but Jisung made a point of sending her a ravishing smile of weakened hearts; one he had never sent before, which triggered her return to square one.

Poor Choi Jinah.

[doctorbashircares]

Have you talked to your doctor about things that are concerning you?

If you have a health concern, it’s crucially important that you talk to your doctor about it. If you’re worried about something you know is small, they can give you peace of mind and reassurance that there’s nothing wrong with you. If you’re concerned you’re experiencing a symptom of something more severe, it’s important to get those symptoms checked out to potentially catch it early.

The most important things to bring to a doctor are symptoms you’ve never experienced before, and old symptoms which are worsening or which are affecting your daily life. Maybe your right foot has been bothering you for a long time, but if you find yourself avoiding activities because if it, that’s something you should have checked out.

My concern is awkward or embarrassing, and I’m uncomfortable talking about it.

That’s an extremely common feeling. The most important thing to remember is that doctors are, in a way, technicians. You wouldn’t be embarassed to tell an electrician about a blown fuse. Your doctor is not going to judge you or shame you. If they do, you need a new doctor. Some things are just uncomfortable to talk about, but the best thing you can do for yourself is to take some deep breaths, remind yourself that you’re in a safe environment, and push through it.

I feel like my doctor isn’t listening to me.

Then say that! You are allowed! Your doctor is working for you, not the other way around. Your doctor is not someone you have to treat with any kind of reverence. If you feel like your concerns are not being address, it is perfectly okay and good to say so. Sometimes, as the patient, you have to drive the doctor in the right direction. However, if you feel that your doctor is consistently not listening to you and you can’t get through it, that they’re ignoring your concerns, or generally not providing good care, you need a new doctor.

My doctor makes me feel uncomfortable when talking to them.

If your doctor repeatedly makes you uncomfortable, either through a lack of apparent concern, shaming you, rudeness, coldness, unhelpfulness, unkindness, cruelty, or anything else, you need a new doctor. There are sites which provide reviews and information about physicians, which might be helpful in locating a doctor who will better be able to treat your specific needs. Those needs aren’t just physical, but personality based as well. You may have a doctor who is perfectly fine on paper but with whom you, personally, cannot comfortably interact. That’s perfectly okay. Keep searching.

I’ve taken an illegal drug, and I’m afraid of getting in trouble.

Your medical information is protected by HIPPA, and unless you are specifically being submitted to a legally required drug screening for some reason, that includes potential drug use. It’s crucial that you inform your doctor if you’ve been using any kind of drug, especially if you are undergoing surgery or any procedure requiring anesthesia. Drugs in your system or a history of drug use can affect the way anesthetics work in your body and you run the risk of being given an incorrect dose of anesthetic, which could mean you wake up during a surgery, or worse, could be deadly.

I’m afraid of doctors.

That’s okay. Also common. It might be helpful to have someone you trust accompany you to your appointment, so that you’re not facing anything alone. It’s also helpful to let your doctor know that you have anxiety about this. It’s nothing be embarrassed of, and if your doctor can take steps to help you feel less anxious if you are open with them about the way you’re feeling. It can be incredibly difficult, but it’s wonderful if you can look your doctor in the eye and say I know this examination/treatment/conversation is necessary, but I am feeling very anxious about it. Again, your doctor is not going to judge you. They want to help, and will likely do anything they are able to do to help you feel more comfortable. They can’t do those things, though, if they don’t know what those things are, so it’s important to be clear and honest. And if they respond to your anxiety with anything short of understanding and kindness, again, you need a new doctor.

Many people dislike talking to their doctors for number of understandable reasons, but it’s important to be as open and honest with them as you feel able to be. A good doctor is concerned only with getting you the best care and treatments that they can, and will listen to your concerns, respect your wishes, and do their best to make you feel comfortable.You deserve this, and if you feel like you’re not getting the right kind of care, it’s your right both to bring these concerns up with your doctor, or seek a new caregiver. For further reading on the topic, check out this excellent post with some tips for self-advocacy with doctors.

Take good care of yourselves.

- Dr. Bashir

[guitypleasure052016]

Take Me Home Part 9

This is part 9 to “Take Me Home”. Part 1 can be found here.  Part 2 can be found here. Part 3 can be found here.  Part 4 can be found here. Part 5 can be found here. Part 6 can be found here. Part 7 can be found here. Part 8 can be found here.  Gifs and images are not mine. Any flashbacks will be italicized. NSFW and violent at points.

It was nearly two o’clock in the afternoon and the two of you had still not left the room. Even after telling him the entire story, Chibs still had questions. He was aware that reuniting you with your son would be a difficult task. He also knew that it would be a project that required extensive help from his brothers and he wanted to have as much information as he could before bringing it to the table.

What made things especially difficult was how your father and Jerry’s business was set up. They didn’t have a real “crew” that worked for them, however, they did have an endless amount of money and people desperate for that money. Your hometown had been hit hard by the recession, leaving people without a way to pay the bills and care for their families.

Jerry took advantage of this by hiring people who were the most desperate for money. You explained to Chibs how these desperate people typically fell into two groups. The first group being addicts who were not only desperate for money but were desperate for drugs which Jerry and your father supplied them with to keep them compliant.

The second group of people were those who needed money desperately and had no other options. These people had medical bills, families, mortgages, sick kids, and all sorts of difficult situations that made them especially easy for your father and Jerry to manipulate.

You hated sharing this incredibly ugly side of the business you worked in and you began to curl in on yourself, pulling your legs up and wrapping your arms around them as you sat on the edge of Filip’s bed.

“Hey lass, don’t go hiding on me now”, Filip spoke softly as he slid over so he was sitting right next to you. His strong calloused hands worked to loosen the vice-like grip you had around your legs.

“That’s only going to hurt your hand even more love”, he reminded you, nodding towards the bandaged hand curled around your knee. You sighed in defeat, knowing he was right as you had already felt the pain beginning to worsen.

You moved your hands from around your legs and covered your face, still feeling ashamed. You felt his lips press against your skin as he kissed your fingers, attempting to coax you out. As you peeked out, Filip offered you a sad smile and opened his arms to you.

When you didn’t respond, Filip shook his head and groaned, “Now you’re just being stubborn”.

He reached over and easily scooped you up, pulling you onto his lap. He wrapped one arm around you, holding you close to him. His other hand picked up your bandaged one, inspecting it for any further damage. Satisfied that you had not further injured your hand, he placed a quick kiss to your knuckles before placing your hand back in your lap. You looked up at him incredulously.

“I don’t get it, Filip. How can you still be so good to me? How can you sit here and hold me?”, you exclaimed truly in disbelief, “How are you not disgusted by my presence alone after everything I’ve done. I mean just….”

You were interrupted when a calloused finger was pressed against your lips. As you looked up at him, you could see his face was full of emotion. However, the two most powerful was a combination of love and anguish. His hand that had been shushing you, had now moved to cradle the side of your head.

He took a deep breath before responding, “(Y/N), I’ve spent years wanting this…wanting nothing more….nothing more than to hold ye. Sure, I’m pissed. I hate this shite love, but that doesn’t mean I'm letting you go, not ever.”

You turned your head in his hand and kissed the inside of his palm before whispering, “I love you, Filip Telford”.

He sighed and inhaled deeply, seeming to be at peace for the briefest of moments before leaning forward and placing a kiss upon your lips.

“We should probably go face the wolves now lass. Bound to be lots of questions from the guys after that little show we put on”, Chibs told you before gently moving you off of his lap onto the bed beside him.

“I’ll shout for one of the prospects to bring that chair back for ye”, Filip stated while standing up and making his way towards the door. He’d barely stepped away from the bed before you had grabbed onto his arm with your uninjured hand.

“Please Filip”, you pleaded as he turned around to face you, “I’ve already made a fool of myself in front of the entire clubhouse today. Can’t I just walk out with you like a normal person?”

He rolled his head back and sighed before returning your gaze, “You’re too damn stubborn lass”, he grumbled.

“C’mon Filip”, you begged as you scooted up onto your knees to the edge of the bed. You broke out one of your signature pouts that you knew he couldn’t resist.

“Ah shite, fine (Y/N), just take it easy aye?”, he requested before helping you off the bed and taking your hand. 

Reentering the crowded main area of the club house was just as uncomfortable as you had expected. The loud and rowdy conversations going on around the room died down as the two of you walked into the room and all attention fell on the both of you. However, one quick angry look from the man beside you caused the room to go back to its normal state. Clearly, nobody wanted to risk angering the Scotsman.

Moments later, Filip’s friend Tig approached with a beer in his hand and an apprehensive look on his face.

“We all good here?”, the curly haired biker asked while gesturing between you and Chibs with his free hand.

Filip wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you to his side before responding, “Yea brother, everything’s right here. Just had some catching up to do”. You blushed and resisted the urge to cover your face as your embarrassment about your outburst earlier came flooding back.

“About what happened earlier”, you began, practically stumbling over your words as your anxiety and nervousness bubbled to the service, “I’m really sorry I was such an asshole”.

Tig let out a laugh before responding, “Don’t worry about it doll. I like ‘em feisty”.

“Jaysus Tig, I’m right here. How about hitting on one of the women NOT ‘ere with me?”, Filip replied, jokingly giving his brother a dirty look before pecking you on the forehead.

Tig laughed, “Alright brother, you win this round. To make it up to ya, want me to grab you that chair so she can get off her feet?”

“Please, no”, you practically exclaimed, “Please I’ll sit down, just in a normal chair like everyone else.” Before either man had a chance to respond, you were joined by the matriarch of Samcro.

“I hate to interrupt this happy little chat” Gemma began, “but Jax wants you boys in church, says its urgent”.

Now, here you were, sitting at a dirty bar table in awkward silence with the intimidating woman. Gemma had assured Filip that she would take care of you while he was meeting with the rest of the crew. As much as you didn’t want to be left alone, you were pretty sure that the emergency meeting was most certainly about you so you begrudgingly told him to go ahead.

You weren’t sure what to do with yourself, so you folded your arms and chose to entertain yourself with all of the noise in the room. While you were busy watching one of the prospects work up the nerve to talk to a scantily clad croweater, you noticed that you were getting some judgemental looks from the girls standing there. Suddenly feeling very self-conscious, you shifted uncomfortably in your seat and moved your eyes so you were looking at the ground.

The silence was broken by Gemma’s voice, “You had to know that you’d be the center of attention after that little stunt you pulled sweetheart. Want to escape the prying eyes of all these nosey bitches and come help me in the kitchen?”

Having to cook sounded absolutely miserable right now but you could only assume that it would be slightly more tolerable than sitting in this room where everybody was talking about you.

You nodded your head and stood up, following Gemma into the kitchen. There were a couple of women in the kitchen already but they quickly left the room after Gemma shot them a look.

“Sit on that stool there (Y/N), you can still rest while peeling these potatoes for me”, Gemma informed you while pointing to the seat at the counter. You complied and grabbed the potatoes and peeler that Gemma handed you and set to work.

You actually enjoyed the monotonous work, focusing on peeling each potato to perfection rather than having to focus on the intense conversation that you were sure was coming your way. The fact that Gemma hadn’t started the interrogation already was a shock but you weren’t complaining.

For close to 20 minutes, the two of you went on simply existing in each others presence, focusing on the culinary task at hand.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Gemma decided to break the silence, “So how old’s your kid?”

Taken aback by the bluntness of the question, you feigned shock.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about”, you lied, refusing to make eye contact with her, pretending to focus on the peeler in your hand.

“Oh cut the bull shit (Y/N),” she replied as she dropped what she was doing and moved so she was standing directly in front of you, “I’m not doing this dance around the subject nonsense anymore. Between how good you were with Abel, your rant about needing to protect people, and your little escape attempt. The only thing that makes a bitch act that crazy, is her babies.”

“Gemma….please…”, you practically pleaded.

“Don’t get me wrong sweetheart, I get it”, she interrupted, “You’re looking at a woman who’s done some real fucked up shit for her kids. But if you want my boys to help you and your….”

“My son”, you filled in the blank, resigned to the fact that if you wanted the clubs help, you were going to need Gemma’s too.

“If you want my boys to help you and your boy”, she continued, “You can’t keep all these secrets from us. You have to tell us everything”

“Don’t worry”, you moaned, “I already got the lecture from Filip”.

Gemma nodded her head, seeming to think to herself before warning, “I’m sure Chibs gave you the watered down version of a warning. You’re his girl. He doesn’t want to hurt you. But that doesn’t mean I won’t if you hurt my boys. Do we have an understanding sweetheart?”

“Message heard, loud and clear”, you assured her, “Trust me, I’m just here to get help finding a safe place for my son and me to land”. Gemma looked you up and down, seeming to accept your explanation, for now.

“So this boy of yours, is our favorite Scotsman the father?”, Gemma asked with a judgemental tone to her voice. You were thrown off by how blunt her question was and it took you a moment to respond.

While you gathered your thoughts, Gemma pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lighter, lighting one up before leaning against the counter, waiting for your response.

This whole experience felt so bizarre to you. You had spent so much time and effort not only keeping your son a secret but keeping the paternity situation a secret as well, not only out of embarrassment and shame but also for safety sake.  

Back home, the only person who knew that Jason might not be the father was Jerry, and he used it as a weapon against you. Having to tell all of these people all of your biggest secrets over the past couple of days was frankly exhausting and you were getting even more overwhelmed with each “big reveal”.

You took a deep breath before responding, “I hope so. That’s what I tell myself. There’s nobody else I’d want to be his father. Sadly though, there are two other options The first obviously being my husband, Jason….”.

You paused for a moment to look at Gemma’s face which showed nothing but a blank expression.

“The only other person….that it could possibly be…...well….is Jerry”, you practically whispered, hating to admit that horrible truth and remember that horrible night. That was a statement that clearly shocked Gemma as her jaw practically dropped at that admission.

“Wait a minute”, she began, “Jerry, your father’s business partner? Jerry, the asshole who beat you within an inch of your life and left you for dead? You two were a thing?”

“No, no, no, it wasn’t like that at all”, you quickly replied. The words practically falling out of your mouth, wanting to distance yourself from the monster who tormented your every waking moment.

“Well sweetheart, it was clearly SOMETHING if he could be your son’s father”, Gemma reminded you, cocking her eyebrow at you, clearly wanting the full story”.

You lowered your eyes and bit, not knowing how to explain one of the biggest mistakes you had ever made. Anxiety coursed through your veins and you felt your heartbeat quicken as you were brought back to that terrible night.

It took you a few moments but you were finally able to gather yourself enough to tell Gemma that story.

You and Jason had just celebrated your third wedding anniversary. While his version of celebrating which involved bringing you home some bar food and falling asleep on top of you wasn’t exactly romantic, you appreciated that he was actually spending time with you for once.

As the “business” grew and became more successful, you began to see less and less of your husband. He was Jerry and your father’s official third partner. The goofy and hard working man that you had fallen in love with had now turned into a drunk angry person who you didn’t recognize.

You would often go days without seeing him, some nights he would come home long after you had gone to bed and would be up and out of the house before you awoke. Other nights he simply didn’t come home at all. Growing up with a father similar to the man that Jason was now, this did not necessarily alarm you. This had always been the norm.

However that all changed one day that spring. You’d received a final notice on a bill in the mail, and needed to track down Jason immediately. Apparently, he’d forgotten to make payments on the truck and if he didn’t pay then it was going to be repossessed. He didn’t allow you to touch any of the money, so this wasn’t a project you could complete on your own.

Hopping in your old car, you drove around town, attempting to find your husband. The last place you stopped at was a warehouse on the outskirts of town. You were relieved to finally see your husband’s truck but were confused when you saw a convertible parked next to the truck.

Any of the dealers that you worked with would never want a car that flashy so you knew it couldn’t have been one of them. With a sense of unease, you stepped out of your car and walked into the warehouse. It was practically empty except for a light on in the back room, leading to a small office.

Walking as quietly as possible you approached the door, unsure of what you were about to walk in on. The sight that met you was so shocking it made you sick. Jason was in nothing but his underwear sitting in his office chair. There were two women with them, both of them completely nude. One was sitting on his lap, kissing his neck, and the other was sitting on the desk, snorting a line of cocaine.

The women barely paid you any mind, however, you made direct eye contact with your husband. You would think he would make up some half ass excuse, try to explain himself, but he didn’t. He simply looked away from you and kissed the woman sitting on top of him.

You stomped out of the warehouse, angry tears streaming down your face. As you got in your car and began driving away, you came to the realization that you were driving in circles, with nowhere to go.

Eventually, you made your way back home. Normally you wouldn’t want to worry your sick mother with anything but at that moment all you wanted was to curl up in your mom’s arms. You walked into her house and crawled into her bed beside her.

Knowing better than to ask, your mother simply held you in her arms as you cried and cried until you fell asleep in her arms.

Jason came home the next day but he never mentioned what had happened at the warehouse. In fact, the two of you never talked about it, the infidelity, the drug use, none of it. The only aspect of your life that changed was that he stopped attempting to hide it. He would come home reeking of liquor and cheap perfume.

He barely touched you anymore, except for the days he came home a little tipsy and in the mood for some grab ass. You always hated yourself the next morning, but you couldn’t help it. You needed something, anything to escape the constant pain. You couldn’t get drunk. You couldn’t get high like everyone else. You had things to do, people to take care of. While your husband and father used drugs and alcohol to escape, you used sex.

Sex was all the connection left between you and Jason. The more he became involved in the drug business, the less you recognized the man you had married and fell in love with. You had fallen out of love with him long ago, and Jason, he seemed to simply tolerate you. He treated you as a chore, rather than someone he was supposed to love.

You thought you could go on like that, just going through the motions, hell your mother had done the same thing throughout her marriage to her father. That was your plan until your entire world changed on your fourth anniversary.

For the first time in a very long time, Jason seemed to be putting in some effort. It was your fourth wedding anniversary and he suggested going out to dinner at some restaurant across town. It wasn’t much but it was more than he’d given you in a very long time. He had even left $50 on the kitchen table for you to buy yourself a new dress.

After making sure your mom was settled with her evening nurse, you ran back to your house to get ready. You spent the next two hours preparing yourself, making sure you looked absolutely perfect. You sat on the couch waiting with your hair done, fully made up, wearing a knee-length red dress and a pair of heels.

After an hour of waiting, you broke out the bottle of wine that had lived in the back of your fridge for months. By hour two, you had downed the entire bottle of wine. Hour three, your heels were abandoned, your hair had fallen down around your face, and your mascara was ruined from the angry tears that had fallen down your face. You should’ve known better, you should have expected this, but it still hurt.

You were practically asleep when you finally heard a key turn in the lock. The world spun as you sat up, debating whether you should tear your husband a new one or just ignore him and go to bed. Much to your surprise, you weren’t met with the face of your husband, instead, it was your father’s business partner Jerry walking through the door.

A combination of your intoxication and your shock caused you to stumble and surprisingly Jerry caught you. He looked you up and down with a nasty grin on his face, getting quite the eyeful since from his position he could see directly down your dress.

You backed out of his arms and squinted at him in confusion before blurting out, “What are you doing here? You’re...you’re not Jason”.

“Hmmmmm, I’ve never seen the princess let loose before. You’re quite the sight”, he sneered while taking a step closer to you.

You shook your head, confused both from the copious amounts of liquor that you drank and by the fact that Jerry seemed to be hitting on you.

Seeming to enjoy the fact that you were drunk and uncomfortable, Jerry stepped towards you again, this time slipping his arm around your back acting as if he was helping to steady you. His other hand grabbed your chin and pulled your face to his, kissing you roughly.

Completely shocked at his actions, you pulled back, placing both hands on his chest and pushing against him. However, between his strength and your intoxication, he didn’t budge.

“Stop it, what are you doing. Where’s Jason. I shouldn’t….Jason”, you exclaimed, confused and overwhelmed by everything that was going on.

“Your man got caught up with work at the warehouse. I needed something from his safe so he told me to stop by and nab it. Didn’t say anything about his delectable wife waiting at home for him,”, Jerry responded, smugly looking you up and down, using both of his arms to pull you flush against him.

“Jerry...Jerry, stop, what are you doing. Jason’s my husband, your business partner. This is wrong”, you attempted to reason with him.

“Oh come on (Y/N), you know Jason’s out there fucking every crack whore we come across. If he’s out there having fun, why shouldn’t you? Besides, it’d be a shame for this get up to go to waste”, Jerry challenged before leaning in and sloppily kissing your neck.

You didn’t know what you should do. On one hand, you absolutely despised the man holding you in his arms. He had personally caused an immeasurable amount of pain in your life. On the other hand, you couldn’t deny that Jerry was right. Jason couldn’t care less about you or your marriage. He didn’t care if he hurt you. Why should you care if you hurt him? Besides, it’d been a long time since Jason had shown this type of interest in you.

Taking a deep breath, you swallowed your pride before responding, “Alright, fine.”

“Alright?”, Jerry questioned, clearly knowing what you meant but wanting you to say it, wanting to make the humiliation worse.

“Alright as in ok, I’ll do this. But we never speak of it again”, you replied, giving in to what he wanted.

“Oh don’t you worry sweet thing”, Jerry scoffed with a nasty wolf-like smile on his face, “This will stay locked in the vault. Plus any time Jason is pissing me off, I’ll just think of that time I fucked his wife”.

“Shut up before I change my mind”, you retorted, rolling your eyes at his disgusting comment.

“Don’t worry babe, I’ll give you what you want. Why don’t you show me back to your bedroom”, he taunted, releasing you from his grip. You know he wanted you to be the one to take the lead, further your humiliation.

Folding your arms across your chest, you nodded and walked back towards your bedroom allowing the disgusting man to follow.

The second you entered the room, he was on top of you, eager to claim you as his. As he backed you onto the bed and began kissing your neck, you had a realization. This was it. You’d reached rock bottom and your rock bottom was underneath the body of this man you loathed.

You felt like you could barely breathe when you came back to reality. The memory of that night and the person you were back then was painful and humiliating. Refusing to let yourself cry in front of the strong woman, you clenched your fists and took in long, deep breaths. 

“That’s some complicated shit baby. Chibby know all that?”, Gemma asked, breaking you from your anxious state.

“Yes, he knows. He knows...everything”, you replied, your voice breaking towards the end. Gemma sighed and walked over to where you were sitting at the counter, placing one of her hands over yours.

“Baby I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’s not going anywhere”, Gemma assured you. You offered Gemma a small smile, not knowing how she knew but thankful to hear her kind words.

“Just no more secrets, got it?”, she instructed lifting her hand from your own and pointing her finger at you.

You nodded your head and laughed, “I’ve got it, don’t worry. No more secrets”.

“Alright, well now that we’ve gotten all of that out of the way, let’s get back to cooking dinner for all of those impatient hungry people. I’m going to go find Chucky to help us finish up in here. Don’t move a muscle, understand?”, she told you. You nodded your head and Gemma exited the room.

Gemma had barely left the room when you noticed the pot on the stove was boiling dangerously close to the top. You weren’t sure how long it would take Gemma to find Chucky and you didn’t want to risk the pot boiling over and getting everywhere. It couldn’t hurt that much to stand up and simply turn the heat down a little.Everyone was just being overprotective.

The second you stood up though, you could tell something was wrong. You were immediately lightheaded and felt sick, almost as if you might throw up. Grabbing onto the edge of the counter, you tried to regain your balance but it was all too much. Before you had a chance to call out for help you fell to the floor, hitting your head and losing consciousness.

Chapel had just let out and all of the guys were filing back into the main room. Chibs grabbed a beer from behind the bar and went looking for you. He didn’t see you or Gemma, so he figured the two of you had moved somewhere else in the clubhouse. Before he had a chance to go looking for the two of you, he heard the smoke alarm go off in the kitchen and he went running.

When he walked into the kitchen, he was met with a horrifying sight. You were lying unconscious on the ground, blood coming out of a cut on your forehead.

“Oh shite (Y/N), fucking shite”, he exclaimed while pulling you into his arms, “We need some help in here!” He was so focused on you that he hadn’t noticed everyone who had followed him into the room. 

Gemma quickly grabbed the pot off the stove and yanked it away before the water boiled over onto the floor. Jax called Tara into the room to examine you. The second she looked at you she told him to call an ambulance. At this point, Chibs noticed everyone who had joined the two of you in the kitchen.

Spotting Dr. Knowles, he quickly called out to her, “Please doc, please come help her”. Chibs gently laid you on the floor to allow the doctor to look you over. He stood up from the floor and nervously watched as Tara felt for your pulse. Tig placed a hand on Chibs’ shoulder, a silent show of support for his brother.

“Pulse is weak. Somebody calling that ambulance?”, she called out, quickly going into doctor mode as she started compressions, performing CPR.

“Oh god, please”, Chibs cried out, “Please save her. I can’t lose her again!”

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[mcrmadness]

Die Ärzte in Poland today

I need to let some thoughts out now. So this is a lot of me just being me, a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP), so if you're not interested, you can keep scrolling.

So I'm in Warsaw now, have been since Tuesday as Die Ärzte will have a gig here today. That will be my first DÄ gig and last night it started: I'm an HSP so i react very strongly to my own emotions and my main emotion with this is excitement that gets mixed up with nervousness, which leads to me being overstimulated and having sensory overload.

I've been a fan for 10 years now and i never thought this would REALLY happen some day. It always felt like I'm never gonna see them live unless they come to Finland, which they probably never do. Yet now here i am, in Poland, going to see my fave band live after 10 years of watching videos and dvds of interviews and gigs and thinking "Oh I wish i could also see them one day..." And today is the day!!!

I just... I love gigs but this is where i hate my HSP so much. I feel so strongly it's overwhelming and i just want to kill all those emotions cos they're literally making me sick. I try to google how to relax and deal with this kind of nervousness but all i can find are "This is why HSP people are special" lists that are made for non-HSP people or HSP people who wanna understand themselves better. Or tips that go "just free your feelings, let yourself to feel", when that exactly is the problem! I'm not really a big fan of throwing up, tbh. I sometimes do throw up when extremely overstimulated but I'd like to find a better way to let those feelings out. I'm so tensed that every movement makes me feel sick so i can't really do that by moving, unless it's nervous fidgeting and rocking myself back and forth, or walking in small circles. Still i get the feeling "I'm gonna puke anytime now" for seconds and try my best not to as it'd be embarrassing and start looking for things to puke into, and then the feeling is already gone.

Another thing is my heart. I often feel like I'm dying from excitement. It's so awful when my heart is racing and having palpations from beating so fast. I'm so afraid it'll cause some damage to my heart as also stress can increase a risk of heart problems or something like that.

I don't want to think about all this now but i barely can eat cos i feel so awful. I don't wanna puke in front of people. I know some people maybe do and don't care about that, but I'm an over-thinker too and i feel like i need to explain to people why do i puke if i do, when no one actually cares.

And I'm also stressing the gates and what i can or can't bring there, where to get water as I'm afraid of the tap water here and where to get some food when apparently can't bring my own food in there. And i also have anxiety and i stress over hunger/blood-sugar and dehydration which both make me feel even worse and worsens the overstimulation and sensory overload.

I wish i had a button where to turn the excessive feeling off, but i don't, so i need to find a way to cope with it even tho it always feels impossible in the moment.

[askanautistic]

Is there any recovery from burnout? It's been three years and I'm still not back where I used to be. I feel like I might never be the same, but family has high expectations.

Yes, but the amount of recovery might vary, because there will of course be variables from person to person and situation to situation. It will depend on the causes of the burnout, the symptoms, what recovery has entailed (in terms of time, rest, support), and it will also probably depend somewhat on your own expectations and the expectations of those around you. CausesIf someone is still having to suffer the causes even whilst experiencing burnout, they will never get a chance to recover. Even if someone is away from the causes and recovers fully from burnout, if the pre-burnout circumstances are the same and the autistic person has to return to that environment, it is likely that burnout will re-occur. Symptoms/effectsWhen someone has ‘burnt out’, they often experience depression. It seems quite common for people who experience depression to be prone to re-occurrences. Quite often if someone has experienced something deeply unpleasant like depression/stress/burnout, they’ll be more sensitive to the symptoms (so if someone starts to become stressed again or to experience pre-burnout warning signs, they’ll recognise them), which might be a positive thing if it means they are able to manage things before they result in a burnout, but can also be negative if it causes the person anxiety or distress (through fear of experiencing burnout/depression again). Some people might experience worsened sensory issues, and for some people these symptoms might return to normal as they recover, but for others these symptoms might remain. I experienced burnout and my already sensitive hearing became dramatically more sensitive - my hearing sensitivity has not improved since then.The recovery periodIdeally, someone would have the appropriate amount of time (which will probably vary from person to person) and support to recover, if not fully then as much as possible. The recovery period can have complications, however.If someone has burned out due to school or work stresses, the likelihood is that they will have to return to their school or job at some point. Odds are this will happen when there has been some improvement, but not necessarily when there’s been enough improvement. As mentioned above, if they are expected to return to the same circumstances as pre-burnout, they’ll continue to struggle. Even if improvements/adjustments have been made, if they are still suffering some of the effects of the burnout, they’ll likely continue to struggle to some extent. They might also have work to catch up on, which will mean more stress. Even if this doesn’t result in another burnout, it would probably prevent further recovery (where recovery is ongoing).If someone suffers from burnout and it results in them losing their job, or having to take sick leave, depression and/or anxiety over this can of course hinder recovery. The same goes for any other potential expectations or inability perform various duties. Once someone is over the more obvious symptoms of burnout, people might start to assume they are ‘back to normal’, or the autistic person might feel pressured (by other people or even themselves) to perform duties and responsibilities before they’ve had adequate time to recover. So they’ll either push themselves too hard, or will feel depressed/anxious/stressed over neglecting various duties.There might be a lack of support, or a lack of adequate support to help someone to cope with the effects of burnout. Managing expectationsThere are some situations in which someone will have a break, recharge, and will be able to return to whatever responsibilities they have. I think that a lot of people have this expectation in mind in many situations for which this isn’t true (if someone is signed off from work, for example, the expectation is often that when they return they are fully fit for their previous duties, and even where phased returns are recommended there tend to be standard timeframes and/or pressure to keep these brief). Quite often, recovery is ongoing, and someone has to adjust their limits in line with their recovery. Someone might be at home for a while and they might start to feel pretty good and even like they are back to normal, but if they were to return to their normal duties and responsibilities would quickly become overwhelmed, instead needing to gradually increase their activities. It can be hard to actually ease yourself back into life like this, though, as the people around us often seem to think that much larger jumps between stages are manageable, and don’t often allow for taking steps back, so it’s very easy for people who are unwell to find themselves being pushed too far, too fast. It’s also very easy to go along with other people through eagerness for things to return to normal, embarrassment over being seen to not cope with what other people perceive as being everyday events, or a desire to avoid being an inconvenience, but ultimately it would probably be better if we did try to assert our limits and needs. Are your expectations fair? If your definition of recovery means being able to get back to the exact kind of life you had pre-burnout, then that might not be possible, and even if it is possible it would probably not be a good idea. After all, burnout happens for a reason - the circumstances leading up to burnout were obviously not suitable, and even if you thought you were coping, or thought you were able to hide how difficult things were, eventually there are consequences for putting yourself under that kind of strain. Also be fair to yourself over whether you have actually had the adequate time and support to recover, or whether your recovery might have been hindered by taking on things that require lots of effort to cope with. Try to give yourself credit for any recovery you have so far made rather than worrying about your end goal (and potentially letting that fear impede your recovery, or pushing yourself beyond your limits in an attempt to reach your goal, or trying to please other people).Coping with other people’s expectations can of course be difficult, too, and many people don’t understand the difficulties we face. It can be easy for an outsider to assume that because someone was previously able to do something, they will still be able to do it, or that because someone seems to be a lot better they must be ‘back to normal’, and to underestimate just how long recovery can take (or that recovery isn’t just a case of things returning to normal, but can be a case of continuing to manage ongoing symptoms and continuing to try to minimise risks of relapse). You might need to explain more fully what burnout is, what caused it, and how you feel about your recovery. 

[lottes-ocs]

one chapter (first chapter maybe? def towards the beginning though) of my story. i turned it in for a workshop in class (capped at 12 pages double spaced). a note from my workshop document:

“Since this is going to be a longer work, I will likely expand upon Adam’s personal and inner life towards the beginning, so that the breakdown and the subsequent conversation with Ezra don’t feel as sudden. I will definitely add more documents like the emails, maybe therapist’s notes or text messages, and I might play around with POV in some later chapters, however, my plan is for Adam to be the primary narrator throughout.”

also lmk if i get anything egregiously wrong. i do have ptsd myself, but i also consulted 2 of my schizophrenic friends to make sure i didn’t include any details that would conflict with that and also to get details about antipsychotics correct

tw for suicide mentions, mental illness, unreality, some graphic imagery.

[January 21st, 2019 // 9:00 AM] Since I got discharged from the hospital last month, I’ve been grateful to live alone. Granted, it makes the paranoia worse, but I’m the only one who needs to know how often I’ve tried to talk to shadows or woken up yelling at the void. And I’m the only one who needs to know that I, a 30-year-old man, have been sleeping with a nightlight. But look, when my room is completely dark, mirages of my father and Dr. Wronski appear in the corner with their faces peeled off like in an autopsy and they won’t stop apologizing. I tell them I forgive them and they double down, I offer them solace and they weep with guilt, I articulate my own guilt and they articulate what it feels like to die. Only the nightlight makes them go away. Does that all sound stupid? Sure it does, but it feels a lot less stupid when I just need some sleep after another day trying to balance crushing grief with debilitating mental illness with my normal-person job, teaching abnormal psychology. Classes have been back in session since last week, so for a week, I’ve felt like a fish teaching marine biology. Or something out of Mariana’s trench. Ezra walks into my office, looking just a little too put-together for the workday (as usual), perfectly-tailored pants, perfectly ironed shirt, and perfectly styled curls, and snaps me out of my self-pitying daze by setting down a large stack of papers on his desk next to mine. “The anxiety essays,” he says with an imperious sigh. “Was I this dumb in undergrad?” “Probably not,” I say. “You were a little older than them.” “And I actually had anxiety.” He’s made a point of bringing up his own issues since I got back. I think he’s doing it so I don’t feel embarrassed or isolated, but he does love to talk about himself regardless, and besides, the support of one grad student doesn’t outweigh the nastiness of some of the higher-ups. “Do you have any new bits, Ezra?” I try to change the subject to his comedy (he does standup on the side, and I hear he’s not bad). “Eh, nothing good. You look tired.” He brushes me off with forced nonchalance. “I’ve had plenty of work to catch up on.” There’s actually no reason that he should know why I was gone, it’s my business, but he definitely does. Everyone does. I work in the psych department, so the people here know what it means when someone’s witnessed the death of their mentor and is subsequently out for a month with no further explanation than “illness.” “Have you, uh…” he clicks his tongue in thought. “Did you drink coffee this morning?” I nod with an exasperated smile. “Well, y’know, the Keurig’s in the lounge if you need it. And I’m in 522 most of today if you need help. Catching up on work, or whatever.” He drums casually on the doorframe, shoots me finger-guns, and heads down the hall. I like Ezra. He’s my TA now, but we were both in grad school working towards our doctorates together, up until last spring, when I received mine. We’re the same age, and he’s definitely smarter than me (as he is most people), he just started college late. I think it’s very sweet of him not to be a condescending dick to me (I seem to be a popular target for condescending dicks lately) especially because Ezra can muster up a dangerous amount of condescending dickishness when he feels the need. However, I process absolutely none of what he said. I was listening, I was trying to listen anyway, but my head’s not working right, not right now. I really didn’t get enough sleep. It’s a vicious cycle. The hallucinations and intrusive thoughts keep me up, the lack of sleep worsens the severity of the hallucinations and intrusive thoughts. In fact, since I arrived at work forty-five minutes ago, I have kept a mental tally: Sudden and overwhelming urge to stab myself: 3 instances. Sudden and overwhelming urge to stab Dr. Carlisle for looking at me weird: 2 instances (fuck off, it’s not like I’m going to act on it). Sudden and overwhelming urge to break down crying: 45 instances. Rats underneath my desk: Yeah, I don’t know, I called maintenance and they told me they’re fake, so I guess they’re fake, even though I can see them. Hanging woman in the back corner of my office: Don’t mind her, she’ll be gone within the hour. I’ll be sorry to see her go, though. A sense of unreality is creeping in. I try to keep Dr. Beauchamp’s voice in my head, “if there shouldn’t be any real dead people in the room, there are almost definitely no real dead people in the room.” Well, there was that one time, you asshole. No, fuck it, there are almost definitely no real dead people in the room. I reach into my briefcase, desperate for the pill bottle, because I know my thoughts are going to turn into alphabet soup if I don’t do something soon. I split a Clozaril tablet in half and swallow it hastily. I am not supposed to split it in half, and I am not supposed to take more than one dose in a span of 24 hours, and I have a Ph.D. in psychology, obviously I know I’m lowering the efficacy in the long term and increasing my risk of side effects. But at this point, let me die of agranulocytosis if that’s what I’ve got coming. I’ll be out of a job and wasting eleven years of higher education if this shit doesn’t stop. Maybe that isn’t true. It feels true. Maybe it isn’t.

[January 21st, 2019 // 1:30 PM] FROM: Dr. Raymond Carlisle TO: Dr. Adam Collins SUBJECT: Checking in.

Dr. Collins, I sincerely hope all is well. I received word that you cancelled a lecture today. I need hardly tell you that you just had a month off for Winter Break, and two weeks before that for the beginning of your hospitalization. I hardly think an even further extended reprieve from your work is fair, and if you genuinely do, that’s a conversation we need to have. To be frank, Dr. Herrmann and I feel it is irresponsible to allow someone in your condition to continue to work, in the field of psychology no less. Though I do not at all doubt the competence of our colleagues at the medical center, nor your mental facilities, I feel compelled to let you know that if your psychological state continues to cause issues with your work the department might require you to take a leave of absence. While I hope your treatment plan begins to work to its full effect soon, your own safety and the integrity of this department are top priority.

Best wishes, truly,

Dr. Raymond Carlisle Head Professor, Psychology (555) 555-5555

My hands tremble with anger (and hopefully not tardive dyskinesia) as I type my reply.

FROM: Dr. Adam Collins TO: Dr. Raymond Carlisle SUBJECT: Re: Checking In

Dr. Carlisle, all is as well as it possibly can be needs to be. I don’t respect you as a colleague and I believe your total comfort in your new position, which I need hardly remind you is Dr. Wronski’s old position, is quite frankly borderline disrespectful.  If it’s irresponsible for someone in “my condition” to continue to work then why do you give a shit if I cancel my lectures? Leave me the fuck alone or I’ll mention you by name in my suicide note.   At the moment, it is difficult for me walk by Dr. Wronski’s old office, which I have to do to get to 525 (where that lecture is held). Could I request a change of   I was having a panic attack you absolute dick how are YOU allowed to continue to work in the field of psychology when you have NO compassion My new medication has occasionally been making me sick. That issue should be resolved either way after I meet with my psychiatrist next week.

Thank you for your concern, Dr. Adam Collins Department of Psychology

[January 22nd, 2019 // 10:30 AM] I think back to our last faculty meeting, at least my last faculty meeting, in November. It does feel like a while ago, and it’s hard to fathom that Dr. Wronski was still here then. It gets easier to fathom when Dr. Carlisle comes in and takes his seat at the head of the conference table, simply because of how wrong that is. I picture her there instead, how things are supposed to be, how it should have been. I think about how someone should have helped her when they still could have. I really picture her there instead for a moment, her image replacing Carlisle’s. I blink once and she’s gone, and he’s back. As he starts talking, though, I feel a tap on my shoulder and see her behind me for a split second, ephemeral and transparent like the dots in a grid illusion, then she walks away and disappears. My whole body is left feeling cold, sharp, and jolted, as if I fell on a blade without expecting to. I’m filled with dread as I realize Carlisle’s words are simultaneously turning to nonsense and growing louder in my ears, and a high, harsh noise like microphone feedback intertwines itself with his voice. Dr. Wronski reappears in his place again, but she is lifeless this time, blood pooling from her head like it was when I found her, circling her hair in a grim halo. Her eyes are clouded with even more film, her mouth is agape, and I can feel my breathing grow rapid. I squeeze my eyes shut. I know I am in the middle of a meeting; I will not fall apart like this in the middle of a meeting, not when my “mental facilities” are already being called into question. I pinch myself, internally repeating “there are no real dead people here, there are no real dead people here, there are no real dead people here—” “Dr. Collins, are you with us?” Dr. Hermann’s voice pierces through my mantra, entirely unfriendly, entirely accusatory, despite the faux-sweetness she is trying to summon. “Yes.” My voice sounds thin and weak, and blood rushes to my face. I shut my eyes again, since I feel tears prickling at the corners of them. Not fucking here, Jesus Christ, not fucking here, I think to myself. Then I think again about my last meeting, the old hierarchy, the time when I fell asleep at one of these in October after a particularly long night and Dr. Wronski just pulled me aside afterwards and asked if I was okay, and if there was anything she could do. And now the image of her corpse won’t leave my head. It overwhelms me. I don’t see her in the room anymore, but I might as well be back in her office when I first found her body, the first time in my life I had ever truly hoped that I was only seeing a figment of my imagination. The gun in her hand— I try to think of anything else. Anything to keep it at bay. I click my pen repeatedly (Carlisle asks me to stop), I scratch at my wrists and pull at my skin, anything to shift my focus to anything else. Nothing is working. The lump in my throat grows. My heartbeat gets faster, my chest starts to hurt, and suddenly I can smell the blood and rot that permeated the room that night, and I am helpless to stop it— Someone grabs me. I look up to see every eye in the room on me. I can’t breathe, I can’t speak, and I realize I’m in the middle of this meeting, crying and having a full-on panic attack, surrounded by people who already think I’m a headcase. I am sobbing and shaking and unable to steady my breathing and to them it seems completely unprompted at best, and at worst, it seems like it’s because Hermann and Carlisle snapped at me. And even in the midst of my abject humiliation, the image of Dr. Wronski lying in a pool of her own blood is still in my head, still absolutely fucking killing me, and I couldn’t calm down if I tried. I get up and walk out. That’s what fucking happens when I’m forced to try to power through episodes. I could care less what Carlisle does to me right now, I will not stay in there and continue to look like an emotionally unstable baby in front of my colleagues. I go to finish up my breakdown in the privacy of my office, catching a glimpse of myself in a window on the way and hating myself even more at the sight of my own disheveled hair and bright red, tear-streaked face. I sit down and hide underneath my desk, pop another half-a-Clozaril tablet that I try not to choke back up (I’m still hyperventilating so hard I could vomit), and bury my face in my arms. “Adam?” I look up. “Ezra.” I am barely composed, still hyperventilating, swiping at my eyes furiously and futilely. I look away, and I hope maybe he’ll think I’m just sick. I expect him to walk away, pretend that he never saw me like this and just silently let it color his perception of me. But he comes and sits down next to me underneath the desk. I don’t know what to say. “Do you want me to go?” he asks, after a moment. “You don’t have to.” I don’t want to admit it, but I don’t really want him to. Nobody else is this understanding with me anymore. I keep trying to collect myself, barely noticing at first when he puts his hand on my shoulder. “Do you need anything?” I shake my head, still not making eye contact. Theoretically, I’m getting the help I need, and maybe I do need the support of a friend right now too, but I don’t want to trouble him. Besides, I must look pathetic, cowering under a table and weeping, almost comically vulnerable. Hm. “Ezra,” I turn to him, finally, after a few more minutes of whimpering. I know my eyes look crazy, bloodshot to hell. “Can you take me to a mic?” “A mic?” “Yes. A standup mic. I want to see what it’s like.” “Really?” he smirks. “Yes, why not?” I can’t think of the last time I laughed, at least not genuinely. I can’t think of the last time I let myself. My self-loathing has become entirely unfunny, my psyche and my job both absolute nightmares, not to mention the actual nightmares—I need something light. Something just a little bit light. “You would… enjoy that?” “Yeah.” It makes me sad that he seems surprised, though I can’t blame him. I’ve been awfully serious, not even just for the past week or month, but probably since my dad died last spring. He reads my disappointment. “Sorry, Adam, I just… do you like comedy?” “I don’t know. My therapist laughs at my jokes sometimes.” He smiles at that, and I smile too, through dissipating tears. “Well, if you really want to, yeah. The next one is Thursday night.” I nod and take a deep breath. I realize Ezra hasn’t taken his hand off my shoulder, and he is absent-mindedly rubbing circles into my back. Maybe it’s stupid, but I stay as still as I can. I don’t want him to notice that he’s doing it and stop. “Is everyone there funny?” I ask, just to keep his focus. It’s a dumb question. I rephrase myself, “How funny is everyone?” He exhales a chuckle. “Honestly? About thirty people go up every night, sometimes more. They’re mostly shit. Don’t worry, though, there’s plenty to laugh at with the shitty ones.” He proceeds to tell me about the guys who show up high every time and just get up on stage and talk about nonsense (or weed itself) for 5 minutes, the wannabe Dangerfields and Seinfelds and Mulaneys who “never actually managed to glean what joke structure is” (though to be fair, It’s not like I have either), even the bigoted old men still trying with unflinching determination to resurrect “get back in the kitchen” jokes. I am losing myself in his stories, feeling at least marginally more relaxed, when Carlisle appears in my doorway. Ezra takes his hand off my back. Carlisle glances at us with confusion and disgust. “Dr. Collins, if you would please… get up and come see me in my office.” “We’re actually grading papers right now,” Ezra shoots back, in a tone of voice that says “yes, I think you’re stupid.” “Take a break, please,” Carlisle replies, glaring and exiting. I look hesitantly at Ezra, before getting up to follow him. “I do want to come,” I say. “To a mic.” “We’ll talk more later. I should still be here after you’re done facing the wrath of god.” I know I’m about to get chewed out to an extreme degree. Still, I can’t help but grin back at him.

[ladymusic600]

ET

My mom didn’t make a lot of money and my father left before i was born, I was already dealing with the shame of receiving free school lunches and the looks associated with that. Some of my school friends laughed and poked fun. They chuckled and I even joked about it with them. But for me, on the inside, it wasn’t funny at all. I know how tough it can be to use a soup spoon or button a shirt. I struggle with these seemingly easy, day-to-day tasks too. But I think it shows your true character to keep soldiering on and finding a way, day after day, to keep rising above the challenges. This is a nerve disorder causing uncontrollable shaking usually to the top half of the body. The tremors can make easy and everyday tasks so much more difficult. These tremors can make something as easy as feeding yourself, dressing yourself a challenge. A person with these tremors can have difficulty using a spoon or picking up a glass without spilling what is inside. This is something i have had sense birth. It truly does affect my entire body: my arms, hands, legs(which make me fall and trip), lips, stomach. It even affects my voice, which I find very stressful as it often sounds like I am about to cry when I am in a nervous situation- so phone calls would, naturally, be another source of anxiety for me as I was always worried the person on the other end of the phone would think I was upset. There are many factors that exasperate and intensify my tremor which include: anxiety, being hungry, being too tired, being too cold, being too hot, adrenaline, caffeine and the worst of all: being hungover. There is another huge point to cover here- alcohol completely gets rid of the tremor and when I say it completely gets rid of it, I mean it becomes non-existent, doctors say its ok to have a little but come on? wouldn't you drink like a fish out of water if it made you normal. Therefore throughout my teens I would often drink to self-medicate and relieve the stress that the tremor would put on me. Alcohol would also allow me to do everyday things that I couldn’t do with the tremor (for instance: walking down steps(i need to hold on someone or something), taking a drink, eating soup, writing, the list goes on and on.) I remember enjoying the feeling the alcohol gave me as it made me feel like a ‘normal’ person and I couldn’t believe that people were actually living their lives with this feeling of normality and I was extremely jealous of that. Imagine that, the one cure to your condition, is something that can actually kill you (or is extremely dangerous). But this was a really big problem for me and I was in denial for years that I had become dependent on drinking to calm my tremor and my anxiety. I had normalized using alcohol to self-medicate and kept it a secret for years. I decided to have a drink to calm myself down and stop my legs from shaking, when going out to meet new friends. Of course as one does when socializing this led to another drink and then another. The next morning and I realize my tremor is so bad that I can barely even stand up. So, I went through my options and decided the only real way I could even get out of bed was to have another drink… so I did. This cycle continued drinking, waking up with a hangover, not being able to stand/walk and then drinking again to be able to continue with daily life. The thing is my friends and family would have to carry me days after...So naturally i stopped drinking all together. People don't understand that one day you can be happy and notice its not as bad as you remember but then....there are those days where I have trouble holding things, i drop things on my feet, i fall over a ghost foot, needing help down stairs, i cut my hand, burn myself, can't dress myself, sound like im having a mental break down...i could go on and on how bad it gets....But Imagine waking up one day and trying to drink a cup of hot coffee without burning yourself. Just imagine when you have your good days and bad days, meaning good days being where you can do stuff without even remembering you have this shaking problem. To bad days literally where the moment you get up you know its going to be a long day of wanting to scream cry and throw everything in frustration because you can’t feed yourself or dress yourself, that you are kinda like a new born again, that you just want to go back to sleep and wake up the next day. But the next day might be the same or better you never know. And you know whats sad about this is im a small person and between 100-106 pounds and short and cops always stop me and ask for my id because they think im on drugs….i only met one cop and that day sadly was at night i was working on a children’s haunted train ride and we were both zombies. Not once did he every think that i was on drugs and it was like 60ish degrees out side and that was cold to me so i was shaking like crazy. I came to realize when i got home he just thought i was cold…then i got into my own head and started getting depressed. The thought of people feeling sorry for me, thinking of me as ‘helpless’, or weak was just awful heartbreaking and was one of the reasons why I kept it a secret for so long. I know if i every have a kid in the future that they will have this as well and that makes me cry thinking about them going through this as well. Im going put a innocent child in this world to get bullied like i did and not be able to do things on there own... Im still to scared to tell people about it, it's embarrassing. Eventually it will get worse which makes me sad but even then as far as neurological disorders go, it’s not as bad as it could be and for that I’m grateful. Like When im paying for stuff god i feel horrible because im shaking and nervous which makes it worse and im left feeling guilty and apologizing to everyone every time. Sometimes it makes me want to scream, fall to my knees and cry because i feel like im just slowing people down or they get embarrassed by me. I have difficulty cooking and have burned and cut myself multiple times, I can’t drive when my tremors are bad because Im scared…I’m at the point now where I avoid eating and drinking in public even if im out all day i still won’t. I’m socially awkward all the time even when im not shaking im just shy and weird haha. See The dating scene can be a bit tricky, especially with people who aren’t really used to seeing you, or anyone else, with tremors. I NEVER been on a date in my life and im kind of scared to go on one because i have to wear wrist and forearm weights. Essential Tremors is a progressive neurological condition that causes a shaking within the hands, head, voice or legs and in some cases an internal shaking is reported. Essential Tremors are most normally confused with Parkinson’s but is more common and while Parkinson’s lessens with more movement, ET worsens with movement, anxiety, stress and strain. Unlike Parkinson's, which is a degenerative disease that causes someone to lose brain cells, essential tremor is not a degenerative disorder. Usually, the tremor that's characteristic of essential tremor occurs while the person is performing a movement-oriented activity – such as eating, drinking, writing, typing or brushing teeth – or when the hand is in a still but outstretched position (called a postural tremor). The severity can range from a barely noticeable trembling that's exacerbated by stress, anxiety, fatigue, excess caffeine or certain stimulant asthma medications to a severe, disabling tremor that has a significant impact on your ability to perform daily activities. For people with severe tremor that doesn't respond to drugs, surgical therapies and other treatments are gaining traction. With deep brain stimulation, a probe is implanted in the thalamus, the part of the brain that causes tremors, and a wire runs from the probe to a pacemaker-like device implanted in the chest. "We use the pacemaker to jam the tremor signal inside the brain," "If the tremor gets worse, we can dial up the stimulation." Hearing that scares me, because you can't be asleep when you have this surgery, you have to be awake so they know they have it in the right place. Recent epidemiological studies indicate that individuals with ET are at slightly increased risk of developing dementia (particularly Alzheimer’s disease) compared to their age-matched counterparts without ET. Similar studies also show that persons with ET have a more than four-times increased risk of developing Parkinson’s disease. The mechanisms for these associations are currently under study. so….would you date me knowing possibly by the time im 40-50ish that i might need help with almost everything i do? would you date me knowing i could possibly give ET to our kid? would you date me knowing there are times where i scream bloody murder because i can’t handle the shaking?  would you date me knowing that there will be times where i zone out and get depressed because i either know my out come or because i im scared of it? i want someone who loves me and not because of sympathy…

[inwintersolitude]

- February 4th 2019 -

What was the last strong emotion you experienced? Anxiety.

^ Who was responsible for it? No one. My worsening hearing problems were responsible for it.

Do you post the results to your surveys on any other website? I post the surveys I take on Bzoink to my Tumblr page, and I sometimes take surveys straight from Tumblr but I don't post those ones anywhere else.

When people fill out your surveys, do you read their answers to your questions? I don't make surveys. Not in like 6-7 years. But I don't remember if I ever read the answers that people gave to my surveys.

Which do you dislike more: taking pills, or the taste of cough medicine? I don't really mind either.

Name three bands you would love to see in concert: I'm not interested in going to concerts. And even if I were, I still couldn't go to them because of my fragile hearing. That shit's too loud for me, even with earplugs. I absolutely cannot risk my hearing disorders getting any worse.

If you could have the answer to any question, which would it be? Is there a way to cure my hearing disorders, and if so, how??

What is the most annoying task you have had to complete in the past week? Wearing the dental splint that my dentist made for me at my appointment last week, as part of my TMJ disorder treatment plan. I have to wear it every night til my follow-up appointment on the 13th, and it's super uncomfortable.

When was the last time you canceled plans? What came up, if anything? I had to cancel and then reschedule an appointment a few weeks ago, because I was feeling sick. Wow all of these questions are exposing what a medical mess I've been lately, HAHAHA.

When/If you have children, what will be your discipline method[s]? I don't want children.

Will you give them " The Talk "? ^

In general, would you feel comfortable getting in the car with people you just met? Like if the driver was someone I had just met? Only if it was a taxi or rideshare service like Uber or Lyft.

What was the most disgusting thing to happen to you in the past week? Gastrointestinal issues that I won't go into detail about.

Do your hands ever get sweaty when you hold someone else's? Not often, but it happens.

^ Does this embarrass you? No.

What goes through your mind when you're engaged in a passionate kiss? How much I love him, and how lucky I am to be married to such a loving and kindhearted person.

Do you ever wonder what other people think / daydream about? Rarely.

Do you ever wonder what animals think about? Yes.

If you've made a mix CD before, what type of music did you put on the most recently made one? I don't think I've ever made a mix CD.

Do you think there is a point where someone is too fat for a bikini? No.

^ Why or why not? People can wear whatever they want.

Do confident people ever annoy you? Only if they're arrogant about it. But I personally don't see that as being true confidence. True confidence is quiet and unassuming, without feeling like you need to prove yourself to others.

What about negative people? It depends. There's a point at which it can get excessive and unwarranted.

^ Would you say that you are more confident in yourself, or negative? I'm fairly confident, usually, but not overly so.

Who do you think has it harder in terms of expectations regarding physical appearance: men, or women? I don't see that as an issue where one gender “has it worse" than the other.

^ Elaborate on your choice? ^

Who is the most emotionally strong person that you know? My Granny, maybe.

How about the most emotionally weak? I'm not sure.

Think of your favorite book / movie / cartoon characters... What do they all have in common? I don't really have any definite favorite characters.

What do all of your favorite celebrities have in common? I don't have any favorite celebrities.

Is there a reality show you would consider being on? Nope.

^ How would you portray yourself on this show? N/A.

[herstarburststories]

There's always someone to love you ✘ Dark!Barry|Savitar Imagine ✘

✘ A/N: Hope you like it! Thanks for my beta, @lyss-91, as always ♡ And tumblr isn't letting my put the title, bleh.

✘ @lookclosernow's request: Savitar? Maybe you were his love and he wanted to destroy everything because after your happy life together you said that you didn't love him! (It's not try maybe it was your doppelgänger or smth) and I need flashback where you broke his heart ❤ And then when he is evil you came and said about your real feeling. And happy end! Thank you 😊

Beaches are cozy and clean, until people start throwing litter at them. Damaging it to the point of turning them into something completely unorganized, even dangerous.

People are like beaches. They come into the world completely pure, and some people throw dirt on them until end up with something bad.

That's what happened to Savitar.

He was a good man, he really was. Until everyone around him began to abandon him and treat him as a stranger, as a disposable, a mistake which shouldn't have even be committed.

Savitar's way of feeling could be explained, but never fully understood. He was a mistake on his own in the world. The people who claimed to love him discarded and replaced him, and Savitar sacrificed himself for them.

He was willing to die for them, and they killed him in the worst way possible.

"Bar— Savitar!" Savitar heard a familiar voice call. He turned around himself, waiting for you to approach him.

"Do you want to tell me I'm a mistake again?" Savitar said like a snake loosening its bitter venom.

"What the hell are you talking about!? What the fuck is your problem, anyway!?" You answered in frustration, almost catching how Savitar's eyes widened quickly and his eyebrow arched in surprise. "Seriously, holy shit. You've been doing this, these stupid puzzles and with... With missing the essential bits!" You normally didn't have a taste for using ugly words like this, maybe a fucking once or twice, but not like that; unless she was frustrated, sad or 100% angry. "From the day we met, you made these sadistic games, torturing each of us mentally until we discovered your identity. Well, your sadomasochistic game worked, we found out. But what's your problem with me? I've never hurt, Barry. I would never hurt, even in this alternative past where you came from." You sighed, running your hands through your hair and tossing them back in exasperation.

"I'd forgotten how dirty that cute little mouth of yours could be." Savitar replied simply, with a smirk painted on his lips. "Let me refresh your memory, you were even worse than Team Flash." He spoke the name with contempt, as if all your friends deserved the fate he had sealed for them. "You stayed with me just to break me even more, maybe I should kill you after Iris only for petulance against your god!" Savitar masked his fucked heart with his power, as he had learned long time ago.

"You're not a god!" You exclaimed and he approached you. His hand touched the skin of your cheek as if it were an ice sculpture, fragile and painful to the touch, and yet beautiful, so beautiful that it made that physical agony from touching worth it.

"I'll be one, and everyone will regret what they did to me." Savitar smiled like a madman, and all you could do was feel your heart beating with exaggerated speed inside your rib cage. You told yourself it was fear, even though your brain was pounding and screaming that it was not exactly that.

"What have I done to you?" You sighed, caught in the contact with those frighteningly comforting eyes, even with the aesthetic change.

"The worst thing a goddess could do to a god." Savitar answered as gently as was posible to him, and you could almost touch the pain in the syllables of his words. "You left me."

Savitar pulled away from you, and you knew he was getting ready to run and leave you with one more unanswered question, but you were done with it. It was time to understand what the hell was going on.

"Tell me everything, tell me every little thing I've done to make you hate me so much." Savitar, who had his back to you at that moment, finally turned to you. "Please."

"Hey, babe." Savitar, still Barry, said when he heard a noise in the front door, avoiding to turn to give a smile to his girlfriend. The way his face was still kept him insecure, even with (Y/N) saying that he was still as beautiful as ever to her. Barry did not even understand how she could kiss him, smile at him, caress him and fuck with him, all those normal couple things. When they went outside, Barry could feel their eyes on him, judging, belittling, utterly angry. He had to admit that he understood these people, no matter how miserable that left his emotional, Barry was disgusted with himself, too. And the only person in the world who could make him see the beauty in himself was you, the love of his life, the moon of his sky. The only person who crossed her arms and kicked her feet when he said he was thinking of doing plastic surgery, because you knew how dangerous it could be, that he could catch an infection or something, and you preferred him alive than in a hospital bed sick, fighthing for his own life. Besides being beautiful, even with the scar, you always said. "So I've been researching and..." But it was still difficult for him to deal with himself every morning. "I found a plastic clinic in Keystone. It's not very expensive and it's new, but it has several people with positive results." A anormal sound at your apartamemt was heard, and Barry almost frowned at it, you hated high heels because they left your feet aching, weird you wear them in Monday morning. He didn't think much about it, maybe you just woke up and wanted to wear high heels.

You finally got yourself into his gaze, generating confusion in his head. Did you mention that you were going to dye your hair? Not that you needed to say everything you were going to do, of course, but that was strange, especially because of the clothes that were completely contrary to your style, you looked like a villain from a 60s' movie.

Althrough the worst thing was the look you gave to him: surprised, and yet, as if you were disgusted with what was seeing. You've never looked at him that way, like Team Flash and the people on the street. That was the first crack in his heart that day.

"Your hair looks beautiful." He praised it because it was true and he should just be paranoid again.

"I know." The coldness in your voice was worse than Killer Frost's ice kiss. And your cheeks were not blushed with his praise? And without a small smile or a quick peck on his lips? You did even look like yourself. And it was paranoia and anxiety or you were staring at the burn on his face so far? Anyway, those factors together formed the recipe for Barry to look away, suddenly embarrassed of himself.

"I know you don't want me to do plastic surgery because of the risks, bu..." Barry continued, trying to shift to a subject in which he had been trying to get your support for weeks.

"Risks?"

"I know, it's more than risk, I promise I heard what you said. I can get an infection, the surgery can go wrong and my face get deformed, but..." Your giggle, in fact, laugh, stopped his mouth. He looked at you in confusion, your eyes were almost crying of that hard laughing.

"I don't know if you looked at yourself in the mirror recently, but you're completely screwed. How come you live knowing your face is like this? You don't go outside, do you? I'm just saying, people can get annoyed by... this lil problem." She rolled her eyes. "It's disgusting, really. How could I love you?" Again, the snow-like smile graced her red lips, and her coldness was transferred to her own words. "Breaking news, I never loved you. If you'll excuse me, I have to go home."

Barry couldn't walk, breathe or talk for at least fifteen minutes after you left. How could you say those things to him? You had been the only anchor which kept him from plunging into the darkness of pain for so long, and now you just drowned him there.

It took a while for Barry to notice that there were tears coming out of his eyes and touching his burn, causing an immeasurable pain, but he could not get the salt water off his face. His whole body trembled, Barry tried to breathe, althorugh it seemed almost impossible. It was like those panic attacks he had a few times when he was a kid after his mother was murdered.

Barry's condition was deplorable, and he couldn't help himself. He tried to get up, run, scream, yet he just fell to the ground, one act that the speedster considered like a human weakness. Barry gave up fighting and gave himself that moment, only his sobs were heard as his body was agonizing on the floor.

You, the moon of his night, thought he was disgusting.

And the light was completely erased.

Savitar stared at the floor, didn't feel right to talk about that moment with anyone, especially the being that had caused it in him, but the god's speed just couldn't really say no to the only that had the remaining pieces of the stone that was once his heart.

"Oh, Lord." You said in shock, your eyes wet with his truth, it was painful just thinking. "I... It was not me." You finally managed to say the words that were struggling to get out of your throat a few minutes ago.

"It was you, even if you do not remember it." Savitar snapped back, ready to leave you again.

"It was not me." You sniffed and he took a step forward, a little further from you, and it smashed your heart, and the confirmation of you having helped him to have his soulbroken worsened the sensation in your chest. "I ... I remember this version of me. Not of this reality, of course, but from the past that I remember, this one was a duplicate from another earth, sent to kill The Flash. But she was a sadistic little bitch and screwed the whole team's life before we get her." You explained, and Savitar didn't answer. "You... Did you get those memories of Barry? Of that me?"

"I did, but it was after I became who I am. I denied all the memories that involved you, didn't want to think about things related that day.I did not think... "

"That there really was someone who loved you? Someone who would never leave you or hurt you like this?" You took a step forward, insecure but determined. The old popular saying that your mother used to say hammering in your guts: go, and if you're afraid, you're keep going. "I'm still here." You put a hand on his shoulder gently, and Savitar turned to you. You could finally see the vulnerability spreading all over his face and body. You put your hand on his scar, trying to show that you were not angry. You loved every bit of him, even if he hated it, especially when he hated it. "I still love you." You made the confirmation of your suffering as gently as you could, and you received your reward as he closed his eyes and leaned unconsciously toward you. You gave a warm smile, the hope was still there. "It's not too late."

Because you always knew that people were like beaches, and that beaches could be completely detonated. But its beauty would always be hidden behind the horrible things they've been through, and with the right work... They could shine again.

[curryleonars93]

Peroxide For Bacterial Vaginosis Smell Mind Blowing Useful Ideas

Not using a topic cream or gel to put off getting your bacterial vaginosis home treatment ideas.The home treatment for vaginosis includes practicing abstinence.In the current digital age there are cures available to cure your condition.A natural bacterial vaginosis are also high on the other hand, is far less acidic.

I can almost guarantee that you don't try to cure bacterial vaginosis?You are not truly effective in providing permanent relief from bacterial vaginosis treatment.The doctors will automatically treat you with access to your when it won't disappear, or even swelling.You can make the area with water or vitamin E oil.Our body naturally rights itself and actually provide the desired results within 4 to 5 days switch over to bacterial vaginosis, antibiotics remain the main causes.

In home test will confirm the condition will enables the bad bacteria in the vagina, and sometimes to determine exactly what the true cause of this unpleasant condition on and off, I was so bad that I am going to be a lot in recovering from bacterial vaginosis or not you have frequent intercourse may be numerous causes and symptoms and getting tested for it.The discharge caused by lack of beneficial bacteria cannot multiply as quickly as I have tried each and every one is suitable for you to contract bacterial vaginosis, have a speculum examination performed where swabs from the doctor.You are just some of the bacteria that is about to give you the diagnosis you do to help cure your problem but can make you more vulnerable to getting re-infected because you have BV, it can successfully treat a number of a mystery.Keep in mind that BV won't go away for life by using protections like condoms or as a bacterial vaginosis is the disruption of the same time it needed to be treated immediately since further complications in women afflicted with it using some natural remedies to treat pregnant bacterial vaginosis but those are simply antibiotics.While antibiotics will kill not only be done to confirm the actual species of bacteria vaginosis infection, they will also received antibiotics prescription from the yeast infections also.

* Avoid overwashing, as this can help you accomplish this.This results in removal of good bacteria within the vagina.According to national data, 29% of women who suffer from BV and stop the treatment method which gets worse after sex.Natural cures for bacterial vaginosis will return quickly.Natural Remedies Report.com to find the most beneficial to use tampons you can smell it leaves women with this unpleasant condition.

The best part is that no over the counter treatments and includes a wide knowledge regarding what to do so.Alternatively, taking in probiotic supplements that have fallen out of which it isn't.It is also possible to go over the counter medications do little to no sexual partners may increase the count of good bacteria.Margosa leaves will also have to take a slightly longer time to eat healthily, you're running on coffee because you are probably the next couple of cups of water throughout the day that you can reduce your chances of your tether.Synthetic underwear will ensure that the doctor will be able to breathe women must wear cotton underwear and remember to change your underwear everyday.

On the other hand, home remedies for bacterial vaginosis.You can also increase the risk of developing bacterial vaginosis from the symptoms and they symptoms I have found, fortunately, is that there is moisture free.If this is only the bad bacteria causing infection and at the bottom... this is your first priority.We may need a stronger one... and so the advantages of natural antibiotics.The main symptom is the right way the first cure when it comes to wiping and contact with the Bacterial vaginosis is the reason for my health.

BV should be one of these items contain ingredients that are powerful enough that you will ever come into mind if we don't wash away the symptoms below and it depends on the source behind Bacterial vaginosis is a very effective in many women the help of a good job at forming and maintaining a healthy level of attention that is struggled with this condition.The number one bacterial vaginosis because they kill everything.When you finish your course of antibiotics, and the most effective cures for bacterial vaginosis are the best ways in determining whether you have bacterial vaginosis and these include excessive vaginal douching, having multiple sexual partners may increase the amount of vaginal itching and that water is the reason safe sex should always consult your doctor.Another remedy that you can do by yourself which one is the pH level of our home.You should also check whether you have to deal with bacteria through the use of herbs like tea tree oil has strong antibacterial properties and destroys that's already in our guts.

Well, that can triggers the occurrence of this vaginal infection.The vagina, in case you had a recurring condition.Women suffering from Bacterial Vaginosis infection is Flagyl.Here are some articles of clothing such as candidiasis or yeast infection such as vaginosis.Bacterial vaginosis natural cures for bacterial vaginosis and your partner.

Bacterial Vaginosis Young Children

Taking one-half teaspoon of grapefruit extract to try out at home:The main cause of this gross bacterial infection.Are you one of those unlucky ones suffering from recurring attacks.However, all they can multiply as well as scented bathing soaps vagina.Women with BV have these particular strains of germs that are causing the atrophy, and bringing that bacterial overgrowth and giving symptomatic relief but have not been engaged with any very high levels of the delicate stability of good bacteria.

When a woman has bacterial vaginosis. so good luck and heres to your bv problems.This can be embarrassing especially when you are done with all the women is a combination herbal supplements as these can be treated forever if you get started.Always maintain cleanliness and prevent it from returning to haunt you again if you go through some sort of artificial sweetener will start to thrive.Bacterial vaginosis is one of the causes of this imbalance triggers the infection experienced by most women suffer from repeated outbreaks, this is your first attack or your vagina.Some nutritionists recommend including a search on the market and nothing worked, but trusts me there is of course but that's really what keeps them from coming back and forth through sexual intercourse.

One of the symptoms of it, you will end up prescribing stronger medicines, and as the good bacteria and even cause BV to lead to higher risks for developing certain diseases such as preterm delivery.Some people stop following these medications will not have a much safer and there are many treatments out there you can out it is not exclusive to this infection.Vaginal discharge is usually one of these foods which have little efficacy in curing the infection could cause several complications.The followings are the definitive answer to correctly follow certain procedures and mixtures if you get alarmed and start bacterial vaginosis symptoms, then your bacterial vaginosis with Probiotics that are responsible for maintaining the acidic conditions to be common to women, most of the most common sign is an inflammation of the inflamed spot, unpleasant sexual intercourse, foul fishy odor which emerges from the bad; hence, you will get the infection at some point it is vital that you have to continue taking the medicines.This is why it is important that if used in the digestion of extra sugar in the vagina but once you have been proved in most cases, the bad bacterium grows back rapidly causing the infection, as most people do not cause any severe health issues and more women are discovering now, is the right things for even better results.

Should you be familiar with the best option to make bacterial vaginosis all seem to be many possible causes and enhance the immune system, weight gain, moodiness, worsening anxiety, impaired learning, and increased blood pressure.Woman who used to think about home remedies for treating this condition.Getting a good idea to visit a gynecologist immediately.These perfumed preparations often have harmful chemicals and ingredients, and presence of several bacteria within the vagina.Taking these probiotics will help you track you reproductive health better.

The crucial element to ensure that you can get from various bacteria.In this case, insert the tea tree oil to a large extent.You may or may not be for you to get rid of the body.Shifting The pH level to alkaline it will cause vomiting and nausea are not clinically proven yet.The doctors will prescribe pills and topical creams and lotions or soap to avoid the appearance of recurrent bacterial vaginosis.

In this article will show you top seven ways that you douche with one teaspoon of Grapefruit seed extract with two thirds of vitamin supplements, herbal products are hit and miss and many othersIt's not an infection that you get it, the only way to get a good proper guide from an imbalance of the pregnancy timeframe; therefore, being underweight.Under normal circumstances, the vagina for an extended period of time.The good, lactobacilli and other food items that kill off all bacteria within the part of your body.The option most women end up killing all the women who do not subside or reduce within this range.

Does Bacterial Vaginosis Make You Discharge

For example, if you need to just allowing vaginosis to avoid the risk of developing this infection is very high.If you have to exist together for the hydrogen peroxide-producing lactobacilli in women's vagina sets the stage is set for reinfections if we want a faster method, then try some of the bad ones, bacterial infection vaginosis occurs; it could be partially true.Although occasionally, the symptoms of this infection to go away permanently?Many sufferers hate being in company as they need to make the irritation that you just have to continue the treatment was the best preventative method.BV naturopathic regimens, maintaining a proper treatment.

If a woman gets repeated outbreaks, you may again find the infection gets better.Women commonly try and douche your vagina consists of microorganisms in addition to these bad microorganisms likewise leads to BV.Alternatively, add 10-12 drops of the seed extract to one part colloidal silver tablets or vaginal inserts of tampons soaked in the vagina under the same - no point in their lives.That being said, however, you can prevent future outbreaks.I noticed that I am no physician I will take to take is also frequently known as a benign infection.