#this isn't about food restriction this is about a lack of desire to eat
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forever angry at the human body's need for food. let me eat nothing for a week and be fine please
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On my queerplatonic series
tw: this post revolves around the headcanon that dazai has ARFID (avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder). if that triggers you, do not read further. stay safe!
while outlining dazai's character for my queerplatonic series (link here) i decided that he struggles with food. it's not the "typical" eating disorder, though.
dazai isn't obsessed with his body shape, doesn't care about keeping track of the amount of calories he's ingested, and isn't terrified of gaining weight if he eats more.
his distorted relationship with food originates from his general lack of interest in things, which includes food as well.
a lot of people headcanon dazai as someone who doesn't eat much, and i agree with that. dazai is so dominated by conflicted feelings and his intrinsic "fear" of desiring anything for himself that he just... doesn't have much interest in food.
to him the whole act of eating is a bother, a mere bodily function he wishes to avoid. sometimes when he's lying on his futon his stomach would start rumbling, but dazai couldn't bring himself to get up and eat something. he has no appetite, what's the point?
he doesn't even get much joy from eating. he loves crab, sure, but that's more of a safe food than anything, a sort of parachute preventing him from free falling into the depths of starvation.
this disorder manifested in a particularly intense way during the mafia years. it wasn't a safe environment at all, and dazai's mental health got in the way of his eating habits.
chuuya would forcefully shove some food down his throat sometimes. he's naturally a caretaker after all, he used to steal food for his friends when he was the leader of the sheep—hell, he even gave his mediocre portion away if some other kid was still hungry. how could he ignore that dazai was basically starving himself?
hirotsu would give him some candies and chocolate bars. even kouyou, who never liked him that much, invited him to drink some tea with her and chuuya in the afternoon.
dazai was getting progressively skinnier with each passing day, and in return chuuya got progressively angrier at him because the brunet would lose focus and dissociate on the battlefield or, worse, collapse from starvation ("it's not like i care about you or something, okay!? i just want to complete this mission and go home." )
it didn't happen that much, but dazai actually did collapse sometimes and chuuya made sure to get insanely mad at him and remind him that he needs three fucking meals a day to survive. dazai would fight back and scream at him with all the strength in his lungs ("this is none of your business. who do you think you are? why don't you go take care of your friends' graves and leave me alone?" )
sooo yep, they used to fight about this a lot, but as long as dazai ate something chuuya was okay with putting up with his shitty demeanor. he didn't mind fighting every other day if it meant dazai actually put some nutrients in his body.
leaving the mafia and joining the agency (plus seeing a psychiatrist, courtesy of yosano's perseverance) did wonders to his mental health, and his food habits changed as well.
his brain is nowhere near 100% functional, let's be clear—he still gets bad days and relapses in his old harmful habits, and he even ghosted his therapist at some point because that shit scares him. but being in a happier and safer environment helps for sure.
sometimes his coworkers share their lunch with him and even though dazai doesn't eat much, they never pressure him to take more bites.
when they host small parties in their office, dazai never leaves without eating something. who would have thought kunikida was such a great cook?
and yosano's small cakes? they are delicious. the strawberry one is his favourite.
since their reunion—which led to their confession and their decision to cherish the non-romantic and non-sexual connection that binds their souls together—chuuya learnt to deal with this aspect of dazai properly.
back in the mafia he was just a kid who knew nothing (damn, he literally raised himself on the streets, and that's why he's always been open about being gay—he literally had no idea homophobia was a thing) and the way he approached dazai's struggles wasn't even remotely healthy.
but chuuya grew over the years. not physically (much to his dismay), but he joined online communities, learnt a lot about mental disorders and read about people's experiences.
when he stumbled across an article describing a situation similar to dazai's, everything made sense.
"perhaps you view eating as a chore because no one has ever cooked a meal for you with love?" his therapist had asked once, and dazai had laughed at her.
but when chuuya cooked him a meal while he was running a fever, something shifted.
he never believed in such things, yet he could swear he tasted chuuya's feelings as he ate the soup on his plate.
care. worry. adoration.
love, even?
this is hilarious.
another day chuuya taught him the basics of cooking ("if eating bores you to death, then try eating something you have made. it's satisfying, you know? because you made it with your own hands." )
dazai hates when chuuya is right.
aaaand here we are in the current timeline of my series.
dazai is far from being perfect but he's doing infinitely better. he still doesn't have a big appetite, but he eats way more than he used to. most importantly, food generally tastes nice on his tongue now.
he still relapses in his old mindset sometimes—it's okay, that's part of the healing process—but there are a lot of people who have his back now.
he's loved and cherished and doesn't have to face the world alone anymore.
#bungou stray dogs#bsd#dazai bsd#chuuya bsd#dazai osamu#chuuya nakahara#soukoku#skk#dazai x chuuya#skk headcanons#qpr skk
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Hello.
I'm not sure if this is related to autism at all, but I wanted to ask in case you had any advice or resources to offer. I struggle with having a really limited diet / being super picky. Especially when I'm in a crisis I seem to only have a couple foods I can eat. I take supplements but I still feel quite sick and not eating enough in a day has a bad effect on my mental health as well.
I don't intentionally skip meals but I feel entirely unable to eat anything that isn't the 2-3 foods I can handle at the moment. I feel like I'd rather skip the meal than force myself into eating something I feel almost ''afraid'' of.
The foods I can eat aren't really nutritious ( protein is something I find myself lacking in my diet, as well as fiber ), and can be a little bit pricey. I feel like I should be able to just ''get over'' my pickiness but i can't.
Hi there,
It sounds like you’re dealing with AFRID (avoidant food restrictive intake disorder). I have this too, and it makes trying/eating new foods very difficult and uncomfortable, especially foods that have changed. (Like a company starts/changes to using a certain ingredient instead of the original one). I found some sources about ARFID if you’re interested. One article states:
Avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder (ARFID) is a condition that causes you to limit the amount and type of food you eat. It isn’t the result of a distorted self-image or an attempt to lose body weight, which is common among other eating disorders.
ARFID can cause you to:
• Lose interest in eating.
• Feel anxious about the consequences of eating, like choking on food or vomiting.
• Avoid foods that have an unwanted color, taste, texture or smell.
Here are some more articles if you’re interested:
I hope this helps answer your question. Thank you for the inbox. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ♥️
#inbox#inbox reply#inbox is now open#arfid#arfid resources#safe foods#tw food disorders#tw eating disorders
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trying to work out some thoughts on anorexia/restrictive eating disorders as inherently “mental illnesses” so forgive me for doing that in your inbox lol. but as someone who starved myself for a while as a teenager in order to fit into the ideal of thinness i reallyyyy hate when people call anorexia/bulimia a mental illness. what i was doing was very reasonable — i was trying to get thin, fast, so people would think of me as pretty/desirable, and starving myself was a way to do that. i feel like terming restrictive eating disorders as mental illnesses in & of themselves makes them seem like, unreasonable? or like you’re biologically predisposed to starve yrself? i guess i just want to know if you have any thoughts on the terming of “anorexia” or “bulimia” as mental illnesses (sorry for the vagueness of this question)
i have thoughts lol
in general i don't actually get a lot of mileage out of the concept of 'mental illness', tbh. there are lots of different things going on here—sometimes these labels are used to pathologise behaviours and experiences that are simply normal variations in human populations (& are often experienced as impairments due to the context of a social and economic environment designed to exclude them). sometimes they're just pathologising certain portions of the population, and are a tool for how marginalisation occurs, like 'drapetomania' or 'hysteria' or indeed the racialised nature of 'schizophrenia' diagnoses. sometimes what we call 'mental illness' is what i would argue is a very reasonable response to fucked up circumstances, like what you're talking about or indeed the inherently stressful and traumatising experience of, like, surviving capitalism. you also have to keep in mind that the way the pharmaceutical industry and the psychiatric establishment work in tandem means that some diagnostic labels come into existence after a drug is discovered/manufactured, and needs an insurance billing code in order to start making money.
on top of all this, as a philosophical point, 'illness' or 'disease' in medicine has some specific meanings (contested & varied over time/place, obviously) and i'm not actually convinced that affective distress is best explained or ameliorated by this framework. the argument that affective distress is a disease state has mostly been very useful for people who are invested in claiming medico-scientific authority and prestige for clinical and academic psychiatry. interestingly ofc, they have never fully succeeded in doing this because there are no biomarkers for psychiatric diagnoses, that's not how these diagnoses are made, and it's certainly not how they're treated (despite outright lies like the 'chemical imbalance' myth still being pushed on many patients).
when it comes to 'eating disorders' specifically, one thing to keep in mind up front is that although all eating disorders are restrictive in origin, both the responses to and causes of that restriction vary widely. the 'classic' story here since about the mid-20th century has been a (white, upper-class) girl who wants to be thin and starves herself in pursuit of beauty / social acceptance; depending on how she responds to this attempted restriction, you might see further restriction, binge-type behaviour, binge-purge behaviour, &c. but this is really only one eating disorder 'story'. as i've said before, food / energy restriction can start for a million different reasons, including lack of access to sufficient food, sensory aversions, other illnesses, over-exercise, &c. and people's mental and physical responses also vary a lot. i've probably never met a disordered eater who had NO thoughts on thinness as the beauty standard and beauty as currency—because of the social context we live in, these ideas will usually at some point become wrapped up in the food restriction, and are often major drivers of the sort of guilt response that tends to perpetuate eg a binge-restrict cycle. but this isn't to say that the desire for thinness is every disordered eater's sole or even primary psychological experience.
since my own experience has always been very similar to yours, though, i can speak to that a little. i agree with you fully in how i narrativise my own self-starvation, lmao. i don't think it's ever been some kind of biological predisposition with me, or a weird or aberrant or even pathological response to my circumstances. i actually think, given the social and familial context i grew up in, starving myself is one of the more logical and normal things i've ever engaged in. it's socially rewarded (both the resultant weight loss and the hypervigilant food / body behaviours in themselves) and emotionally numbing in a way that makes literally everything else 1 billion times easier to manage.
again, there's complexity here when talking about 'eating disorders' more broadly; people receive many different messages about food and body size, and respond to them differently as well. (this is a tricky thing with any diagnosis that's given on the basis of behaviours / symptoms—ie all psychiatric diagnoses—the label is ontologically incapable of differentiating between different causes for, and experiences of, what may be externally the same behaviours.) and it's also true that eating disorders involve a biological element in the sense that restrictive food intake (or the threat of restrictive food intake, like guilting yourself for eating something you perceive as unhealthy / fattening / &c) triggers a whole complicated physical response because, yknow, humans need to eat lol. but my point stands, i think: the psychiatric discourse of 'eating disorders' is still very wilfully decontextualising them, because otherwise it would have to become a broader social justice conversation about things like poverty and weight stigma. that's not something that psychiatry is disciplinarily equipped to do!
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Official poverty numbers are frequently measured in numbers of dollars in a given time period but I think that's fundamentally incorrect and intentionally designed to fudge the actual statistics!
The problem with this definition is that a dollar isn't the same everywhere in the world. There are places with strong social networks, accessible food and shelter, and happy and fulfilled people who are able to thrive with less than a hundred bucks a week and there are places where a thousand dollars a month doesn't cover food and shelter at all. By saying "poverty is X dollars a month" the powers that choose what number X represents are able to decide who gets to be considered poor and who doesn't and I believe that they choose whichever number lets them ignore the real scarcity experienced by their society the most.
So... That definition isn't just garbage because it doesn't take cost of living into account at all, but because it's very obviously (to me) a tool of oppression.
Instead, I propose that poverty should be defined as persistent living in scarcity due to financial restrictions.
Obviously I've got to start with the scarcity part of the definition.
Human beings have a wide range of physical and psychological needs.
Biological, physical needs are not just "roof" and "calories" it's adequate shelter and adequate nutrition. Psychological needs aren't just "free time" and "rest", it's creative outlets, socializing, comfort, etc.
Obviously this is even more complex than this oversimplification and we are able to "survive" with less, but we aren't able to truly live or thrive without having all our needs met, and just because we can survive without something doesn't mean it's not a need.
Similarly, just because we go through short periods of time without full access to fulfilling all of our needs doesn't mean we will suffer for it, depending on the need and the time frame in question.
So, persistent living in scarcity, in my opinion, would indicate that you have not been able to meet all of your human needs for a minimum of six months to a year.
And due to financial restrictions means exactly that.
As in, your income is what stops you from being able to fulfill your needs. You're not lacking social contact because you're a prick, but because you can't afford to engage in what social activities are available to you. You're not lacking adequate nutrition because you can't afford to it, not because you're on a restrictive diet by choice.
By this definition;
If you're unable to find adequate housing that you can afford to live in while also meeting the rest of your needs, you are living in scarcity.
If you are eating what you can afford instead of eating in accordance with your actual dietary needs (even if you're choosing to avoid looking into what it'd take to meet them because you know you won't be able to afford it), you are living in scarcity.
If you can not afford to see the doctor when you need it, If you can not afford to see the dentist when you need it, If you can not afford to replace/renew your glasses when you need to, you are living in scarcity.
If you can not afford adequate clothing. If you can not afford what social activities are available to you. If you can not afford a bed that suits your needs. you are living in scarcity.
There are obviously degrees, and some of us are worse off than others. There's also the factor of food deserts, created by corporations, and how they drive up the basic cost of living for those of us who have to travel longer distances to access nutrition.
And the experiences of existing in a situation are individual to each of us, affected by our individual needs, desires, attitudes, situations, and other differences.
The thing is, nearly all the scarcity in the world today, is entirely man made.
There's enough food grown and produced to feed literally everyone. About 40% of produce grown in the united states ends up in the trash before it reaches retail.
It's been some years since I read the study that detailed how there were about 5 empty homes in the US for every single homeless person. Obviously that doesn't mean they're "adequate housing" but the numbers are staggering. Add to this the fact that every study of housing first initiatives Proves, unequivocally, that it's CHEAPER to give free housing to homeless people than to keep them homeless.
When it comes to clothing. If we stopped making T shirts today, there are enough unsold T shirts in the world that even if shopping habits stayed the same it'd take Seven Years to run out. Manufacturers overproduce clothing at a staggering scale for the storefront aesthetics of being "well stocked". They know they'll never sell the amount they make. This is intentional. And that's not even addressing the low quality fast fashion situation.
There is no material reason for anyone to go hungry, cold, or homeless, in today's world.
This indicates that poverty too is man made.
#poverty#do you live in scarcity?#How long have you been here?#It's been about 42 years for me#I'm 42 in 2 days#I'm having a mood
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It sucks to see "anas/mias" being agressive to you, you seem like a sincere person, but I can also see where they're coming from. Whenever I eat the amount of food I should, I feel hungry (still), sick and look bloated, when I eat under that, I feel hungry and weak.
I can only assume I have a currently undiagnosed medical condition that makes it psychically and mentally difficult to eat, which leads to binge restrict cycles. I don't know a healthy relationship with food, I have never had one. I don't mean to trauma dump. But it's so frustrating to have people tell me "Don't starve! Just eat protein and do exercises, you'll be happy!" I've tried that before, it didn't work! This comes from a very personal place, I hope you understand that the things you write makes my (and others) issues seem black and white though.
i know it's a grey world, nothing really fades into the things you want, Also, yes, that is right; the methods i recommended could fail, not everyone is the same, but it was so for the fact that they didn't even try it the first place, rather just attacking me and treating me like this enemy to them, as if i wanted to suffer. Anorexia is one of the worst conditions a human being can have in manners of mental health, not just because how it isn't seriously due to the overall social media view of "skinny is better" that started in the 1920s, but also because of the way it works, affecting the metabolism and behavioral patterns of an individual. The reason why most of these people come with attacks towards me, it's mainly due to me touching a personal subject, although hypocritical due to their need to post about it on the internet but sure, personal. It does resonate, having the semblence of an unfed dog, not inferior but miserable, too hungry to fight yet too anxious due to lack of self nutrition to be calm and rational. Eds on the other hand, are the psychological response to food and the brain chemical out-come of such, since most individuals enjoy most meals of their desired taste without any problem, they feel left out and somewhat ignored with this particular issue, as it makes them feel that their need for something that they considered "sweet" or "greasy" can't be met due to selfdeprication of their body image (this is actually the reason why i originally shared recipes, like low sugar peach melba and low oil tray pizza for them). In quick mention, the combination of these 2 conditions create an emotionally hurt individual that can cause acts of damage to their own bodies in response of realese, and often find themselves in the defensive of their own view, to egotistical to take advice or critic, only their own and their own reflection double crosses them and backstabs them each time.
I give up, to the ed and ana tumblr, you won. Hope you enjoy the bowl of ice and rocks, everyone <3
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So, I was inspired by that post a while ago that said that New Year's resolutions don't have to be miserable and punitive and instead can just be, like, "how many different shapes of pasta can you eat in a year," and it inspired me to do something. I decided that this year, I will have a Monthly Soup Quest, wherein every month I make a type of soup I've never had before.
For January, my Quest Soup was česnečka (chezz-NETCH-kah), a Czech/Slovak garlic soup! You dice up potatoes and lightly fry them before adding onion and garlic. It's absolutely peasant food and not a rich man's meal, but that's fine. Peasants can eat good as hell. Have you ever had a big slice of bread with an apple? It goes hard. Also, česnečka is revered in Czechia and Slovakia as a hangover cure, so if any of you go a bit too hard partying one night, this might be the soup for you! I'll put the recipe in the readmore if you want to check it out. Do note that I made a small pot, enough for three bowls, so you might want to scale it up.
INGREDIENTS
- Three medium potatoes - One or two slices of bacon* - Half of a shallot - Six cloves of garlic - Three cups of water - Three cubes dried chicken stock - Salt and pepper to taste - Three slices of bread (optional)
DIRECTIONS
In a pot, fry your bacon. Once cooked, set aside. You can eat this alone now if you want, or crumble it on top of the soup later - the whole reason we wanted to fry some bacon was to cook our potatoes in the bacon grease. You should have about 2 tablespoons of grease in the pot - drain off any excess.
Dice your potatoes into roughly 3/4 inch cubes and fry in the bacon grease until they begin to become golden, about eight minutes on medium heat, stirring frequently as to not let them stick to the pan. Add pepper to potatoes if so desired.
Mince your shallot and cut your garlic cloves into thin slices. Add to potatoes and mix. Let them cook until aromatic, but for no more than one minute. Garlic burns easily and tastes bad when it does.
Add water and dried chicken stock. Let the soup come to a boil, and then cover and set it to medium heat for 25 minutes, or until the potatoes are fork tender.
If so desired, you may also make croutons for the soup. To do this, take a loaf of bread and cut it into one-and-a-half inch thick slices before buttering on both sides and seasoning (we just did black pepper). Then, toast in the oven at 350 degrees for 10 minutes on each side. Of course, you can also always just use croutons out of a bag.
* So, when I made this, I used three slices of bacon instead of two. This was a mistake. I thought that that would maybe make two tablespoons of fat, and instead, it made, like, half a cup. I don't know what the proper amount of bacon is, but
There's also the question of dietary restrictions, as some people do not eat pork. In my household, this isn't much of an issue, but I understand it would be in others. You can, of course, choose to fry the potatoes in butter or olive oil instead, but I think that would lead to a thinner broth that lacks the richness the pork brings. Don't quote me on this because I haven't tried this yet, but to compensate, if you opt not to use bacon grease, I would suggest adding marjoram and thyme to add to the flavor profile. Or maybe a bay leaf! I don't use them, but from what I understand, one bay leaf will turn all of Chesapeake Bay into a hearty stew.
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The Spider's Bride Part 3


Pairing: spider!Bucky x Reader
Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, forced marriage.
Words: 2422.
Summary: Whoever your stepmother sold you to, he wasn’t as honorable as she claimed.
Part 1
Part 2
P.S. I just remembered I haven't explain arachnids' family ties yet - even though Bucky says he has "sisters", they are actually his cousins, daughters of his aunt. Since the ones of his kind had always lived in a very big families, cousins were considered "sisters" and "brothers" because of their closeness to each other.
_________________
You spent the next two weeks in your chamber again - apparently, Bucky's spells were truly very poweful as you slept the whole day after returning home from the nursery. He even had to have a check on you, but the healer assured him you'd be alright soon. Bucky had to be more careful from now on.
However, he was rather surprised you didn't cry after your awakening and said nothing to him about your visit to the town. Judging by the way you behaved, maybe you were not as shocked as Bucky expected you to be. He was so relieved.
Arabella was visiting often. She didn't enter your rooms as a precaution - she said it was too early for that - but stayed right behind the doors, either singing or talking to you. Despite being reluctant at first, as the days passed, you talked more and more about everything you wanted to know. A part of him was jealous. In the end, he could tell you of all the things you were curious about as well, but you refused to talk to him much. Arabella asked Bucky to be patient. In the end, it was him you considered her captor, not her.
The more time you spent with her, the calmer you seemed. You started eating better, sometimes even complimenting him for the food he brought you directly from the surface; the man heard less and less of your crying. Eventually, you even started to move within the house to borrow new books from the extensive library Bucky made exclusively for you. Of course, he still kept his human form whenever you were with him.
"Bucky, we discussed a few things this morning with Arabella." You said to him when you brought back empty dishes from your room and started washing them despite Bucky protesting it. "That potion I asked you to give me the first day when you brought me."
He stiffened at your words since he knew perfectly what potion you were talking about. What on Earth Arabella was thinking?
"She told me how your spells work and how humans can get addicted to that. I understand why you don't want to cast more charms on me." You rinsed the large silver dish and put it to the side to let it dry before storing them in the cardboard. "But she said that if you added a three drops of love potion to my drink in the morning, it may ease my worries."
"Dear Lord." He grunted, taking away your cup and clenching his teeth. Maybe his sister was an expert in potions she had been preparing for decades, yet he couldn't believe she offered you something like that right after telling him to not use magic.
"Please, Bucky. She said it's safe."
"Oh, and how would she know this? I don't remember her treating any human females for long."
Controling himself was rather complicated at this point, but he knew he was overreacting. Undoubtedly, his sister would do nothing to harm you in any way. He just didn't trust the methods he knew nothing about, and risking your health was out of question.
You sighed, taking the apron you stole from your betrothed off and folding it neatly. The more you stayed here, the more acceptable your life seemed to you, and sometimes you hated it with all your heart. Your bed was nice and warm; your food was always ready for you when you became hungry; your room was reserved purely for you, and no one could enter it without your permission; you had many gorgeous dresses your stepmother could never even dream about. Although the thought of Bucky in his true form still made you feel disgusted, you couldn't wish him to die anymore. More and more you thought someone like him didn't deserve it just because he was ugly. Regardless what your instincts were telling you, he treated you better than any human did, didn't he?
You had a better life down here since the times your mother left, and thinking of that hurt.
However, you did want to wipe off the memory of Bucky chasing you the day your stepmother brought you to the cave. Sometimes you saw his eight long dark legs in your nightmares. This was what you talked to Arabella today, voicing your concerns to help you do something with it. Maybe if you could erase this, your feelings towards the man you couldn't escape would change faster.
Arabella didn't agree to wiping off that picture out of your mind as the spell that she would need to cast was unpredictable at best and could take half of your memories. As you knew little about magic, she spent some time explaining to you how the charms worked and how they affected both arachnids and humans. Indulging yourself into taking too many soothing spells sounded like a bad idea now, and you understood Bucky's reluctance to cast them.
Nonetheless, she offered you a better way to ease your worries. Love potion didn't bring the ones of your kind any particular harm, though it wasn't powerful enough to keep you in love for a long time. However, a small dose of it could keep your worries away, the woman said. If you and Bucky agreed, she would ensure the potion to be made perfectly.
But he just had to be so goddamn stubborn! You learned that despite his scary appearance and the fact that he'd been through the war from its beginning to the very end Bucky was a hopeless romantic. He probably hoped the issue would be solved somehow purely by itself. As much as you would like it to be true, your mind refused believing that marrying an arachnid wasn't frightening.
"Listen, I know you care." You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand, turning to him. "But I need help. I know soothing spells aren't safe, so we need something else. Please, let's try this out. If you see I don't react as I should, we'll stop right away. What harm could 3 drops of potion bring, anyway?
He groaned at your persistance, but you weren't giving up just yet. You spend half an hour talking to him purely about the potion and the possibilities it could bring you until the arachnid gave up, surprised you stayed with him for so long by our own will. More than that, Bucky was content with your desire to get rid of your fears and even change the way you thought of him. Maybe it was for the better. Maybe trying giving you a few drops of a potion would help.
When he let you drink water mixed with potion, he was afraid to see the immediate changes, but nothing happened. You stayed in your room, reading the new book Arabella brought you. Your cheeks weren't heated; you gaze was focused on the text; your relaxed body wasn't shaking. It seemed perfectly okay.
Tomorrow morning he gave you three more drops as his older sister had prescribed, and nothing had happened after that, too. Bucky wasn't even sure it made sense to keep giving you the potion, but you said you were feeling a little better, so he believed you. However, the third day you spent solely in the library, not even locking yourself in your room as usual. Apparently, Arabella's advice had been way more useful he had anticipated at first.
The forth day you suddenly asked him to show you his true form. You wanted to give it a try, you said. If you got scared, he could cast a soothing or sleeping speel anyway. Since you were persistent, Bucky eventually gave in, but it didn't end well - you vomited on your own shoes at the sight of his horrifying spider form.
The morning of the fifth day Bucky had fought his desire to pour the whole bottle of potion into your drink and finally see you smiling at him.
The seventh day was better since his sisters visited, taking human form. They brought you gifts - ivory hair comb and hand mirror, pearls and laces. Although you tried refusing their presents because you felt ashamed you could give them nothing in return, they laughed it off: while human traditions required the family of a bride to pay the dowry, arachnids' custom was quite the opposite. You thought the reason was the lack of females in their society, but Bucky's sisters assured you it had nothing to do with it. Actually, they had adopted this tradition from the dark elves who had been their mates from the ancient times. Arabella also told you while the kingdom you belonged to was patriarchal, theirs wasn't much so. She said that despite having seven children - quite a normal thing for a female arachnid - she wasn't the one who would always take care of them as her husband was equally resposible for the brood. He fed them, bathed them, taught them, and brought them to bed just like she did. It sounded almost insane to you.
Then you returned to talk about their marriage traditions, and sisters were excited to tell you how their husbands courted them before they gave their woves. Apparently, all of them except Bucky had been already married.
"You know, the good thing is the courtship period isn't restricted by any laws." Dahlia, the youngest one, said. "While it lasts, a suitor and his family should pamper future bride. When my daughter will grow up, her betrothed will bring her gifts, too."
You tried your best to think of them as humans. Then the talk of their families was much less scary to you as you imagined them wearing beautiful laced silver dresses on the day of their weddings just like women of your kind did. Did arachnids wear dresses at all, despite when they took human form? You doubted it. Their large spider bodies could only be covered with two dozen meters of fabric, and moving with those on top would be too complicated.
You sighed when the doors to your chamber were finally closed as Bucky's sisters left. The deep sense of guilt had long settled in your chest. All of them were kind to you. No one had ever forced you to scrub floors or cook before the sun rises to have the breakfast ready when everyone gonna wake up. You had forgotten how the broom felt in your work-weary hands. Even though you did nothing at all, you were fed, clothed and given whatever you asked for.
Why did it have to be like this? If Bucky had been cruel to you, it would be so much easier to hate him and wish him to die. But now you couldn't. He didn't deserve to be detested only because of his form.
Wiping your tears away, you returned to bed and wrapped your warm blanket under yourself.
____________
"You shouldn't creep on her all the time, brother." Dahlia shook her head disapprovingly. "You don't give her privacy."
"She doesn't know I'm watching her while she's alone." When he protested, Arabella shot him a serious glance.
"Your obsession with her will do neither of you any good. Remember, though humans are not as conscious as us, they can still feel the emotions of others. She'll get scared."
"She's already scared!" He barked at the woman, furious, his hands clenched. "I don't change my form even when I go to sleep. I've stayed like that for the whole week! And she's still frightened. She still doesn't let me touch her. Maybe she never will. The only time I get to see her happy is when she's reading in her chamber all by herself, and you're telling me I can't do even that?"
"Do you know uncle had always been watching your mother, Bucky?" His second oldest sister intervened with her quiet and calm voice, her gentle hand brushing against his tensed shoulder.
The man stilled, his angry expression turning terrified in a matter of seconds. No, he didn't know, or rather didn't think of it much. Although his mother died shortly after giving birth to him, the dark obsession of his father with her was... dreadful. Bucky had never thought his feelings towards you could remind him of that. How could it be? Wasn't he much more gentle? Kind? Human?
"Bucky, you're a good man." He heard Arabella whispering to him softly. "You're better than him, you had always been. But if it continues like that, it will get worse. I told you, give her time. Have patience. She has suffered no less than you did, and she can't help you heal if she hadn't recover herself."
"I want nothing but love her." He said in desperation, covering his face with his huge palms.
"Then trust her. Look, she got so much better she didn't even cry when we came. I know you want her to jump into your arms, but it just doesn't happen that way."
Miria patted his head gently and nodded, agreeing to her older sister. They had slowly regained their huge and shiny spider-like forms right in front of the house Bucky lived in, strangers walking the street nearby paying them no attention as it had been a common magic ritual.
"I have to remind you my husband had spent half a year courting me." The youngest sister said, trying to cheer him up. "And he belongs to the same kind as us. Didn't stop me from believing he would be a terrible husband, though."
Bucky forced a faint smile. It was true, and he remembered how desperate the guy had been when Dahlia refused walking with him in the forests again and again. But she wasn't scared of him; she didn't hate him because he had eight nasty long legs making a terrifying sound when he walked. It was different.
He felt tears gathering in his eyes and blinked, quickly gathering himself. Bucky wasn't pathetic to the point he could goddamn cry in front of his own sisters.
"Thank you for your advice. I will do whatever I can." His voice sounded tired when Arabella dropped a kiss on his cheek and motioned others to follow her to the street.
Soon he was standing outside all by himself, watching the lamppost's flickering light. The nights were growing colder, and he shivered, turning his back to the black gates and marching straight home. He didn't know by the time he entered the hallway you had already consumed one third of the bottle with a love potion Bucky stored in the kitchen.
__________
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7 Causes Why You Can’t Lose Weight :
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What A Wonderful Life...
Friday, May 17, 2019
2:35pm



"What an interesting life you've caught me in the middle of...."
I caught myself saying this out loud a few weeks ago. That date overhead to be exact.
Life is such a journey. Such a process.
Constantly, we're growing, changing, evolving- never really staying in one spot or settling into one modus operandi. Have you ever heard the phrase, "A master piece and work in progress?" That's truly a concept I feel slips the mind of so many. Even ourselves. We know that we're changing and adjusting, but, honestly, we don't always agree with, like or desire the change we find ourselves going through. Sometimes that change alters us physically, and it may not always be flattering or pleasing.
And other times, we witness emotional, mental and spiritual transformations that either excite us, or frighten us. I've experienced this. We all have. (And actually, correction- I am experiencing this. A season that rattles me because I don't recognize my spiritual surroundings.)
We all have those moments where you take stock of who you are versus who you used to be and find yourself to be a current stranger to the you once known. A stranger in your own body, a foreigner in your own thoughts.
When did I get so defensive? When did I become so broken? Why did I stop trusting, smiling, opening up? When did I stop talking, believing, hoping? How did I stop loving? When did I stop truly living? What happened.... to "me?"
And you know what can be so damaging and yet helpful all at once? M e m o r i e s.
See, while it's good to recall memories, it's so harmful to harp on them. We were made to live in the present, it's why our breath comes and goes so steadily instead of staying behind in one spot that we have to consistently travel backwards to in order to reach. We were designed to live in the moment.
Those memories are a blessing. They're an opportunity to view and learn from every present you've ever found yourself in, every gift you've gotten to live in- so that you can walk a little straighter, wiser and freer in the next....but the moment you start harping on those past presents, you neglect all the undivided attention this current one requires. And you live in a duality that brings both anxiousness and confusion.
You bring a nasty case of comparison into the mix. We tend to split our time between nostalgia, trauma, reality and delusions of grandeur. Past. Present. Future.
The both good and bad times of the past, the ever steady action of the present and the unknown possibilities of the future. We live in them all and somehow expect our present selves to maintain order and a standard of satisfactory being that appeases each viewpoint.
Let me set you free here and now-
You will never be completely like your old self- you've gone through too much. So much more than that self of even days ago has experienced. I'm starting to learn and accept that, but it's hard for me on some days when I liked the old version better. What gives me hope, is knowing that God has a greater design for me that He didn't leave in the past, but lays peacefully in every step forward I take. If the past were better, I'd be there. But it's not. There was something there that was still obsolete, untapped and lacking.
What's more, you will never be like your future self- they've witnessed more than the present can presently tell you. Secrets that God has purposed only time to hold.
And understand, your present self is constantly being prepared for the future and shaped by the past. They're under a lot of work. But that work is null in void if you don't allow them to soak up every moment they're in so they can pull something from it and be molded by it.
What an interesting life you've caught me in....
Who we're used to being and used to being known as, isn't going to always be the truth of who we are and will be. So set yourself free to forever be a work in progress and masterpiece all at once.
Set yourself free to live life and experience life as it comes. If the day is unpredictable, why can't your growth process be? Don't set restrictions on yourself. Live. What's meant will come and happen, because you have a sovereign God who always starts what He finishes (Isaiah 46:9-11). And He calls you His workmanship, His clay, His skillfully and wonderfully made creation in whom He delights.
Trust me, He has an attention to detail and His attention is all yours. You're worth it, and truly, He loves it. So be free, and live in the beautiful, yet startling vulnerability of being creation, where you don't have to constantly create yourself- forever loved and governed by Almighty above.
"12 Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me His own. 13 Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, 14 I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. 15 Let those of us who are mature think this way, and if in anything (in any point) you think otherwise (differently), God will reveal that (make it clear) also to you. 16 Only let us hold true (live up to) to what we have (already) attained."
Philippians 3:12-16
Don't ever feel like you have something to prove. What God has put in you is intrinsic. The areas you walk into were made to build you, be a catalyst that sparks your nature and be a field in which to practice, hone and shine in who you are. You were created for those places.
Your only job is to BE. God will continue to sculpt exactly what that "being" looks like at any given moment, whether seemingly good, bad, ugly or pleasing. That's a part of Surrender- ceasing resistance, submitting to an authority greater than your own, to give up possession of, to deliver up."
Give up your ideas of what you should do, who you should be, and where you should be. It's an act harder done than said, but it's a journey that is best walked with the Creator- who has all the finer details etched out and all the possibilities accounted for- purposing each one for good. (Psalm 37:23, Proverbs 16:9, Romans 8:28)
Do you know the difference between Evidence and Proof?
Proof is a biased concept. It seeks to discount one thing and support another.
Evidence is objective. It has no agenda. It is simply there, and its presence tells a story.
The story of God's existence is in the evidence of creation- our world. He tells us this in Romans 1:19-20.
Trees, animals, the ocean, the wind, birds, bees, flowers, and even our complex DNA, they have never moved to prove anything. They simply exist and operate in their nature, and have been a consistent testimony to something greater.
We have sought for years to understand their origin and complexity, our origin and complexity. They derive from the same Caretaker who clothes the fields of grass and feeds the birds of the sky.
"25 'Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? 26 Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? 27 And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? 28 And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, 29 yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. 30 But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? 31 Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. 33 But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.
34 Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.'"
Matthew 6:25-34
You will always feel behind and be behind when you have something to prove.
God is always with us. In every moment. Living in the past or future holds no meaning, it's a trick of the enemy that keeps us between condemnation and striving desperately and futilely beyond grace.
"8 For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, 9 not a result of works, so that no one may boast. 10 For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them."
Ephesians 2:8-10
I've had a habit of pointing to the past to remind God of where I can't go again or where I was better off. I also have a habit (which was the entirety of my 2018), where I take the snippets of what God has shown me He has for me, and I drag Him around and try to drill Him like a sergeant to get me there. The year was saturated with impatience, exhaustion, resentment, bitterness, envy, confusion and hurt.
This life is not yours when you're in Christ. It's His. Galatians 2:20 tells us that,
"I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who lives, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me."
And in being His, there are plans, achievements, dreams, timings, and revelations that He's taken on the responsibility to deliver and create. This is not yours to carry.
Why carry something on your own that God told you He'd do Himself? If He put it on your heart, it's for Him to do, not you. Why try to do God's job and be Him? How futile. We fail and stall out when we attempt to take His plans, make them our own and go running off with them.
There is a partnership called Faith. That leads us to Obedience. But we can't obey who we do not serve or even acknowledge. When striving in our own efforts, understandings, assumptions and desires, when do we have time and room to consult the One who prepared our good works ahead of time?
Stay steady with Him in the now. His grace has covered your entire timeline, but reap the benefits of the fresh mercies He purposed for this moment.
"22 The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
23 they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness."
Lamentations 3:22-23
Don't try to run ahead. Take it from me, it leaves you bitter and worn.
Be spoiled by the God who has already completed the works.
"9 Remember the former things of old,
For I am God, and there is no other;
I am God, and there is none like Me,
10 Declaring the end from the beginning,
And from ancient times things that are not yet done,
Saying, ‘My counsel shall stand,
And I will do all My pleasure,’
11 Calling a bird of prey from the east,
The man who executes My counsel, from a far country.
Indeed I have spoken it;
I will also bring it to pass.
I have purposed it;
I will also do it."
Isaiah 46:9-11
Prove nothing and never strive . Like evidence, just be, and watch yourself ever unfold on this journey of life as God unravels all the beautiful secrets He's placed down on the inside of you, tucked neatly away in the timeline of your path.
Time to be set free, darlings.
Live. Presently.
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