#we love an undiagnosed sleep disorder

[voidimp]

man i would love to be asleep but unfortunately my brain

[adhdandcomics]

shout out to my folks with insomnia & depression & delayed sleep phase disorder & sleep apnea & disabilities & other sleep disorders diagnosed, undiagnosed, and just my plain old night owls & night shift workers!! we r so fucking cool & exist every day in a society not made for us at all. and NONE of us are lazy bums or bad people for staying up late & sleeping in till noon or two or whatever whenever you get up!! no matter what anyone says!! you’re incredible and i love you!!!

[cripplecharacters]

Mods

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Sasza

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Hi! My name is Sasza and I use he/him pronouns. I am a disabled artist who loves to write and draw characters like me! I am autistic, (mildly) intellectually disabled and have several physical conditions including-but-not-limited-to dyspraxia, severe hyperkyphosis, cranial nerve diseases (causing double vision, chronic pain and a facial difference among other things), and hypermobile joints. Sometimes I use a cane. I'm very passionate about accessibility and disability representation in all kinds of media - books, comics, video games, and any other kind of art that's out there!

Bert

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Hello! I'm Bert (previously Mason), and I use he/they pronouns. I am a writer who loves to write plays and fiction with characters like me and my friends. I am autistic and have ADHD, I have psychotic PTSD and a DID system. Physical health-wise I have migraines, fibromyalgia, and a lateral lisp. I love talking about representation and ways we can make a kinder and more inclusive space everywhere we go.

Sparrow

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Hi, I’m sparrow, they/he for me. I’m a disabled artist who makes a lot of disabled characters like myself and probably like a quarter of the world. I have autism and ADHD, among other brain things, as well as chronic pain in both my jaw and my knee and ankle. I also have POTS and some sort of sleep disorder. I am a sometimes cane user as well. I really enjoy research and thoughtful art that makes people feel seen. Aside from that, I am a huge fan of historical fiction and really enjoy fantasy as well.

Rot

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My name is Rot, I use all pronouns including neo pronouns as well as any rot and insect themed nounself pronouns. I’m an artist who loves putting disability in my stories. I’m mostly undiagnosed due to medical neglect and have chronic fatigue, hypersomnia & chronic pain that ranges from mild to debilitating. My known disabilities are pots, ganglion cysts, nerve damage, tics, autism (level unknown), asthma, GERD, anxiety and psychosis. I have a metal implant, use a cane and am mostly verbal and use aac infrequently. I have experience with temporary palsy, needing carers (family members who stepped up, not hired carers) and being in a wheelchair, though I currently don't have any of those.

Virus

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Hello! I go by Virus and I use She/Her but anyone can use any pronouns for me, have fun with it. I'm a writer—mostly fanfiction—who has been in fandom very long and used to be a classical musician. I have Hypermobile Ehler Danlos Syndrome along with it's fun co-morbidities (MCAS, POTS, Gastroparesis, Fibromyalgia, and Von Willebrandes). I also have Pan-Hypopituitarism which is the following: Adrenal Insufficiency, Hypothyroidism, Diabetes Insipidus, Precocious Puberty, Growth Hormone Deficiency, Hyperprolactinemia/galactorrhea, as well as High Estrogen and Testosterone issues. I have Pituitary Dwarfism/Proportional Dwarfism, Myoclonic Epilepsy, and a Speech Disorder. I used to have a Port-a-cath, Picc-Lines, and a feeding tube, amongst many other things. Phew, now that that's over. I love every art form with a favour towards music, writing and the fiber arts. I love seeing representation no matter how big or small especially in medias that rep is often glossed over!

Rock

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Hi! I am Rock; any pronouns are okay. I am a writer, mainly of sci-fi and fantasy, and I love adding all sorts of disabled characters. I am hard of hearing (mild-moderate bilateral hearing loss) and have profound auditory processing disorder. I have scoliosis, POTS, and lower-body muscle weakness so I am a full-time mobility aid user. I am also intersex; I have several hormone deficiencies among other conditions as a result of my intersex variation. I am excited to join the mod team!

Aaron

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Hey, I'm Aaron, he/him. I'm a writer of fantasy, science fiction, dystopia, utopia, and historical, and I like writing incorporating casts of disabled characters into all of them and reworking magic, technology, and science to accommodate them. I have a TBI, a lot wrong with my speech, cognitive issues, slight developmental disability, myofascial pain syndrome, medium support needs autistic but fully verbal, OCD, multiple types of anxiety, PTSD, depression, severe ADHD, dyslexia, dysgraphia, articulatory initiation anomia, medically significant migraines, a chronic headache, chronic pain, and chronic fatigue. I'm also visibly disabled (one of those people who looks autistic) and transmasc. And I can't wait to see what amazing things you guys come u with.

Zohar

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Hello everyone! I'm a new mod, and you can call me Zohar. I'm a writer of fantasy and sci-fi for the most part, and definitely prioritize disability, LGBT, and Indigenous representation in my work. I am Blind with a form of Albinism/strabismus/ptosis, along with some hearing loss. I am intersex/transgender with mixed gonadal dysgenesis (XO/XY Turner Syndrome) that goes hand in hand with GHD/pituitary dwarfism and affects my skeletal and hormonal health. I also have POTS and complex DID caused by RAMCOA and am comfortable answering asks about that. He or She pronouns is fine with me. I can't wait to help out here!

Icarus

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Hello all! My name is Icarus (He/Him). I'm a new mod here and a writer of original work (Primarily contemporary short fiction and cosmic horror) with some fanfiction on the side. I have been diagnosed with ADHD, autism, PTSD, Tourette's Syndrome along with several other mental and physical health conditions. I also had epilepsy, asthma, and a heart condition as a child but have since grown out of them. I am currently seeking a diagnosis for something causing a few different symptoms including chronic pain, mobility issues, sensitivity in my joints/bones, progressive vision loss (Currently to the point where I have very little to no peripheral vision), and dizziness/fainting episodes. I am a full time cane user at the advice of my physio. I am also a gay trans man and in full-time university studies.

Jess

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Hey y'all! I'm Jess, and I use she/her. I'm 35, and I work full time behind the scenes in the grocery industry (in an office, designing shelf layouts!). I enjoy writing and reading slice-of-life stories mostly. I especially like exploring how certain magical elements can be parallels for disability. I also do art, including some 3D illusion chalk art. As for my disabilities: I have multiple sclerosis, and a few issues that have come from that, including severe permanent damage from optic neuritis. I was briefly 100% blind in my left eye, but a small amount of vision returned. The residual vision causes some hard-to-describe double vision, so I wear a completely opaque occlusive contact lens on my bad eye to help me see more clearly. I also had a period of time when I suffered from paroxysmal kinesigenic dyskinesia, a rare movement disorder. I also have a body-focused repetitive behavior disorder (dermatillomania) and visible scars from that. I'm looking forward to being helpful!

[ecto42]

I think in D&D terms the typical assumption would be that a character with a chronic illness and/or chronic pain would have a low constitution score. The reality is a lot of people like myself would probably have constitution as our biggest stat because not only are we constantly staying up while fighting our bodies, we’re generally expected to ignore our own physical needs and wellbeing in exchange for being able to get things done. For example, I have been fully in the middle of a POTS episode and had to cook myself dinner, carry multiple loads of laundry up and down the stairs, etc. Like there’s such a real thing to Ashton Greymoore having chronic pain and yet their highest stat being Constitution.

I think something people are really good at acknowledging for Ashton as well as being apparent with Taliesin is that chronic illness generally means you’re stronger than people would assume, but you also blow through your resources faster and they can be just as counterproductive as they are helpful. It’s important to note that Taliesin struggles with chronic issues like hand tremors and has other chronically disabled friends like Dani Carr.

Like personally as an AMAB person with a condition that primarily hits AFAB people particularly hard, I’ve had cardiologists tell me “If anything your heart is overly muscular.” Which like, thanks dude yeah that’s decades of anxiety and years of POTS hitting and me having to stay standing up. Like I was in marching band in high school and I was the kid basically double-time marching in giant steps every show because I was the easiest to place since I’m so tall. Then when I worked fast food I had to either maneuver through hoardes of people to get back to my station or just push through them completely. In 90+ degree weather in the summer in Alabama with an anxiety disorder and a “heart condition” that’s actually just another neurological condition. Like I spent years doing manual labor and unloading trucks and pallets while exhausted on like 3 hours of sleep. You have to develop that kind of resilience when the capitalist system reinforces a world where no matter what if you want to survive as a person straddling the poverty line you have to work your ass off.

This doesn’t even get into the kind of resiliency you have to develop as an undiagnosed neurodivergent person who’s being told by absolutely everyone for most of your life that you’re doing everything wrong. Like Adaine from Dimension 20 is such a good example of that. This is also why I love the portrayal of Ayda Aguefort so much, because she really is like me having to learn everything from books because no one else in her life can explain things the same way that a book can. That is one of those things that as a late diagnosed autistic & ADHDer it’s really hard to explain personally without getting really like tragic or depressing in conversation because it sometimes is just a matter of “I’ve effectively been abused my entire life purely because the system wasn’t built for me and I had a lot of expectations I failed to live up to.”

All of this as a way to say that neurodiversity and disability are much more interesting and heroic feeling when they are portrayed by actually neurodiverse and disabled people, as well as those who love those people enough to tell stories that include them. I think TRRPGs and RPGs in general are a great way to explore this. Often times when we see disabled people in shows or movies that revolve around their disability there is a lack of agency, whereas often times with TTRPGs you have to create your own agency in the first place.

[cookies-over-yonder]

the ballad of an (un)diagnosed private investigator

In junior year, Riz is finally forced to face one of his worst enemies yet—an undiagnosed anxiety disorder threatening to compromise his grades, his relationships, and, most of all, his sanity.

chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | ?

Chapter 2 Summary:

Riz initiates an impromptu sleepover.

ao3

Sklonda has been sitting alone on the couch for hours with dried tears stuck to her face.

She checks the time on her crystal.

11pm.

Just as she's about to get up and go get Riz, because he's certainly worked himself into a frenzy, she gets a notification.

Riz: sleeping over at mordred tonight. love you

-

Ma: Love you too, hon. We're talking about this tomorrow.

Riz cringes at his crystal, and then turns it off. He takes a deep breath in and out, and then, instead of knocking or, gods forbid, ringing the bell, he texts Adaine that he's here.

When the door opens, he's relieved to see her face.

"Is your dad home?" he asks quietly, walking inside.

"He's upstairs, why?"

"No reason."

They get to her tower, and Riz flops onto the bed, burying his face in the mattress.

"Are you okay, man?" Adaine asks, sitting next to him. "I'm always down for an impromptu sleepover, but you don't seem well."

"I think I'm in a fight with my mom," Riz mumbles into her blanket.

He feels a hand on his back.

"When's the last time you ate?" Adaine asks.

"I had a granola bar this morning...?" Riz says, turning around to face her. I was making lunch with Mom earlier, but..."

He cringes.

"Then you fought?"

"No—uh, it doesn't matter. I'm not hungry, okay?"

Adaine is grabbing his hand and leading him back downstairs despite his protests in an instant.

He's sitting at the kitchen counter with a cup of tea—not coffee—as she digs through the fridge when he hears someone descending the steps.

Riz stares at the mug in his hand, and when he notices the slight tremble, he shuts his eyes.

"Hey, Riz!" Jawbone says, and he opens his eyes and forces himself to look up from the drink. "How you doing, kiddo?" Jawbone asks, not in the light conversation way, but in the I know something is wrong way.

"I'm fine, Jawbone," he says flatly.

"I heard you were sleeping over," he says, and Riz shoots a look to Adaine, who promptly shakes her head. "Your mom told me," Jawbone clarifies, having watched this exchange.

"Right. Of course she did," Riz says, taking a sip of tea. "I'm fine," he adds, trying and failing to tone down his agitation.

Riz watches Jawbone's gaze flicker to his trembling hands, then back up to meet his eyes.

"Well, alright, kid, but if you ever want to talk about anything, I'm here. You kids want me to order a pizza? I think Fig and Kristen might be asleep already, but I already know what flavours they'd pick."

"Sure," Adaine says.

Riz takes another sip of tea, and then puts down the cup.

He listens and nods along half-heartedly as Jawbone orders the pizza and asks for input. Once he leaves the room, Riz lets out a sigh of relief and rests his head on the counter's surface.

"I have never seen you that on edge around Jawbone before," Adaine says. "What's going on, Riz?"

Riz keeps his head on the counter, because he feels tears welling up, and he can't help but let them fall.

"I really, really don't want to talk about it."

"Okay," Adaine says, and he hears her summon her familiar.

He lifts his head to make sure she isn't feeling too anxious, but to his surprise, she puts Boggy in his arms.

"Uh—"

"You seemed stressed," she says.

"Yeah. Uh. Thanks."

Adaine keeps staring at him, like she's studying his every movement.

He squirms a little under her gaze.

"So, uh—" he clears his throat, "the pizza will be here in like fifteen, right?"

"Yeah."

"And then we should go to bed, 'cause, we have school...?"

Riz doesn't remember what day it is, but it's more likely to be a weekday tomorrow than it is to be a weekend. Statistically.

"It's Saturday night, dude."

"Right. I knew that. And it's... May."

"June."

"I was close though, wasn't I?" Riz jokes, hoping to lighten the mood.

It doesn't seem to work.

"I'm fine, Adaine," he says, before she even says what's written on her face.

"You need sleep."

"I slept for like... six hours earlier today, actually."

She raised her eyebrows.

"What?" he asks.

"You worry me, Riz."

Riz frowns.

"I'm just a little stressed, okay?" he says. "It's normal. I'm handling it. And you don't need to worry."

He hands Boggy back to her and gets off the chair. "Lets go hang out at the couch or something while we wait."

They settle on the couch, and Adaine wraps an arm around Riz, pulling him close. She's not verbally fretting over him anymore, but the tension could still be cut with a knife, and he feels it like an indomitable weight in his chest.

He takes in a breath and lets it out slowly as he turns on his crystal, hoping for a distraction.

Upon unlocking it, the first thing he sees is the message from his mom.

He cringes, turns it off, shuts his eyes, and relaxes—to the best of his ability—into Adaine's side.

Love you too, hon. We're talking about this tomorrow.

[twsthc]

savanaclaw headcanons and projection 🦁

...this is what the poll from like last week was for. sorry heartslabyul and diasomnia fans teehee </3

⚠️ warnings: self harm, eating disorders

last updated: may 4, 2024

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR !! 🦁🥩

🇲🇱🇹🇿🇰🇪 UNLABLED + INTERSEX TRANSFEMNEU (she/him)

APPEARANCE HCS:

Leona is actually the twst character I've drawn the most

I hc all beastmen to have fur everywhere thats elastic and akin to mink skin

You know the texture of squishmallows? It's like that.

╰Doesn't include the thick hair in other places (head, facial, armpits, chest, pubes, etc)

Lots of scars in general + healed dermis self harm scars on thighs

Has a flat nose like a cat

RANDOM HCS:

Savanaclaw mom/big sister...

Overstimulating thunderstorm? Go whine to Leona. Diasomnia students bothering you? Get leona to deal with them. Your food is too hot? Cry to Leona.

During freshman year she was way more outgoing and extroverted but eventually She mellowed out (depression moment)

She used to change hairstyles a lot before settling on freeform dreads

Also got into way more fights back then (also how she became housewarden)

Now she is (kind of) calm. Tranquil. At peace. Has depressive episodes. Relaxed.

Mostly does her own thing, and if that "thing" isn't sleeping it's some other bullshit the underclassmen roped her into

SHE CAN SEW AND MAKE JEWLERY

╰While wandering the castle one day, Leona stumbled upon the servants quarters. They taught him life skills (mending clothes, cooking, etc :3)

Despite being a big sis figure if she doesn't want to do something she Will Not.

And if she does do it afterall it's because she gets something out of it.

NPD, GAD, PDD (persistent depressive disorder)

RUGGIE BUCCHI !! 🍩🌼

🇺🇸🇧🇷 UNLABLED + TRANS MAN (he/him)

APPEARANCE HCS:

Similarly to Leona he has a furry textured skin

Though his body hair is more coarse and longer due to him being a hyena

He has a lazy eye and tipped ear similar to Ed from The Lion King

Probably my second most drawn twst character :3

Healed epidermis self harm scars on inner wrists 🥶

RANDOM HCS:

He's like the cooler afrolatino Luke Blovad

He's either winning the idgaf wars or dying on the battlefield

Has an insane collection of weird shirts from thrift stores

And he makes it work every single time! his outfits go crazy!

More connected to his AADOS/Gullah side than his Brazilian side

Though he does speak Portugese!

In fact, he speaks multiple languages because polyglots are marketable

The type of person to take a half empty bottle of ketchup and rotting apple from an empty ass fridge and make dinner happen

Constantly going to Scarabia to snag their party leftovers

Used to be a scene kid!!!! This is canon and true!!!! Pls trust me

diabetes, GAD, MDD, undiagnosed ADHD

triggering content ahead !!

he has bulimia nervosa

╰fun fact! a lot of food insecure people have eating disorders

self harmed a lot from the ages from 10-12 before eventually stopping at 13

he stopped after his grandma found out and started checking his arms regularly (#projecting)

JACK HOWL !! 🐺🌵

🪶🇪🇬 PANROMANTIC ASEXUAL + GENDER CURIOUS (he/they)

APPEARANCE HCS:

WAY thicker fur than leona and ruggie

Trims his body hair a lot because he overheats in savanaclaw easily

RANDOM HCS:

The type of guy to be totally in love with the world and nature

They're just like. Wow. We were put on a spinning rock. With food to eat, and water drink, and air to breathe. I love being alive.

Had a little garden back at home and named every single plant

Remembers small things about people and brings them up in conversation

╰Hey dude I got you a Chipotle bowl. How did I remember your exact order? You told me. Yeah, I know it was a year ago, but--

Random but I think he dresses how Tupac did

Not even to be tough

But because he's a black suburban kid

(I'm a black city kid but this is probably how black suburban kids dress trust)

Loooves chewing on things. Has one of those chew necklaces

Autistic with botany and physical health special interest

[ooppo]

National Bipolar Awareness day - March 30th.

I remember the first time I had a auditory hallucination (that I was aware of) was when I was, like, 15~ years old and I was sitting in my bed reading fanfiction. It was 7 at night when I heard the sound of these musical instruments being knocked together at a steady beat:

I started to look around really, really confused because like where the fuck is this sound even coming from? It sounded like it was being played right near me. So I was looking around until I found the source of the wooden knocking, which was from my stomach. Once I found the source the rhythmic knocking slowly faded until it was silent. Before this incident I had several visual hallucinations of spiders and bugs that weren't there but I attributed that to being tired (after a Google search of 'tired hallucinations') so when faced with this very loud new hallucination at 7PM when I was feeling awake, I told myself "oh. I must be tired." And went to sleep.

Moral of the story is that your brain will downplay the signs of serious mental disorders if you aren't educated in what they are. I think everyone should learn the signs of what mental illnesses look like just so they can help themselves or others. I went undiagnosed for seven years and my father went undiagnosed for nearly 50. The signs were there and obvious to both us and outsiders, but due to a lack of information that could have been cleared up by a simple search of 'bipolar symptoms' 'what are delusions' 'what kinds of hallucinations are there' these symptoms were overlooked.

Serious mental illnesses like bipolar/schizophrenia aren't as uncommon as you think. Here are some popular actors/celebrities who have been diagnosed with bipolar disorder (ones that are open about it):

I don't want to post a ton of links here so you can Google "celebrity name bipolar disorder" if you'd like to. Historically influential people with a suspected bipolar disorder diagnosis are Virginia Woolf, Vincent Van Gogh, and Edgar Allen Poe.

With national bipolar awareness day coming up (March 30th which is also Van Gogh's birthday) I wanted to post something for it.

So please learn the signs of mental illness for your sake and others. Bipolar disorder is as common as autism. They are both 1 in 100. Schizophrenia is 1 in 300. Ocd is also 1 in 100. Here are some helpful articles about the signs of these illnesses:

Bipolar

Schizophrenia

Ocd

Schizoaffective

Your mentally ill siblings aren't scary boogyman, they are mothers, teachers, artists, lovers, poet's, garbage men, deli workers, etc. They are people.

I remember when my father was diagnosed after me, he told me: "All my life people would ask me, 'what the fuck is wrong with you?' and I would always say, 'I don't know'."

You could be the reason why someone gets help.

No one in my fathers or my life knew what bipolar disorder looked like, so we suffered with it for years unknowingly.

I remember when I was learning the signs when I was suspecting my diagnosis, I had learned the signs for schizophrenia as well (since psychosis is a shared symptom between the two illnesses) and when I saw the symptoms of schizophrenia I remembered my old highschool friend who I thought was weird because he talked about how he could get called into the matrix and would go still for long periods of time when he was "transferring" from this world to the matrix world. Now I see that as possible signs of delusions and catatonia. That weird and off putting kid in school could be suffering unknowingly. Your strange uncle who accuses people of stealing his shoes could be suffering. YOU could be suffering and asking yourself why you're so weird/don't fit in/can't keep up.

So please for national disability month and bipolar awareness day learn some of the symptoms for serious disorders because you or a loved one could be suffering from it without knowing. Thank you.

[omniblades-and-stars]

Daisy's gonna get real with y'all for a minute.

I've been playing Mass Effect for a long fucking time. Since the second one came out in 2010. At the time, I was broke as fuck, living in my grandparent's basement, struggling with undiagnosed bipolar disorder.

I felt utterly powerless.

And I'm working at Gamestop part time, we got to check out games for free. I keep seeing this game, it's the second one in a series I've never heard of before. Everybody was all up Halo's ass still (no shade to Halo). But it's a sci-fi adventure with cool aliens in it.

I boot it up on my Xbox and create my character. She looks kind of like me, but I can't get the nose quite right, but that's okay.

And as I play, making all kinds of mistakes, I'm sure, I realize, people know her. They missed her. There's this pilot, he's kind of an asshole, but in the same way some of my friends are loveable assholes.

There's the doctor, and her laughter is so kind, it felt healing. Also, she's kind of hot. And funny.

I immediately go to get Archangel because that guy sounds rad as fuck from the dossier. And when he greets me, I just know, THIS, this is your ride or die friend. It's apparent in the banter. Like "Haha you jackass I love you." Kind of friends.

And it just keeps going. I feel less alone.

But as I'm playing as this incredible, powerful woman, I realize something else.

I feel powerful too. Or at least, I don't feel powerless. And that counts.

And I keep pushing through, even though life is awful. And it gets worse.

Surprise! Daisy, you're pregnant! Oh and look at that, it's twins!

I'm still broke as fuck, living in my grandparent's basement. My husband and I have been trying for years to find better jobs, but there's nothing but shitty part time, minimum wage work. The recession is technically over, but those of thrust into adulthood during those years know the truth.

In some way, it never ended.

It's 2012, after the Extended Cut for 3 is released, and I'm doing bad. It turns out undiagnosed and untreated bipolar disorder mix with post-partum depression about as well as bleach and ammonia.

My babies never sleep, so I don't either. I gave up on going to work. My husband has to work all the time when I'm awake so we can afford to live in our shitty apartment where someone was shot in the parking lot right outside my window. So I almost never see him.

Suicide is on my mind.

I feel alone.

I feel powerless.

My husband spent the money to buy me Mass Effect 3 for my birthday. And I boot it up.

There are all my friends! Hey guys, the world's kind of gone to shit, huh? I feel you, my world's gone to shit too.

I devour it.

I get to the end, and there's an option I didn't expect.

Synthesis.

And as EDI's dialogue cuts in for the epilogue, I'm already weeping because oh shit Shepard just died. But then EDI says, "I am alive, and I am not alone."

And all of the air leaves my lungs. I'm ugly crying at this point, alone in my living room, hunched over with snot all over my face and hands.

Because she's right.

I am alive. And I'm not alone.

My sweet, beautiful children are sleeping (for once) just in the other room. My husband is working himself literally to the bone because he loves us so much, he's not going to let us become homeless if he can help it. My aunt came by to surprise me and take me out to lunch for my birthday.

She didn't even know I had been contemplating taking my own life that morning.

I'm not alone. Sure, shit sucks. I've been destitute my entire adult life, I'm a college drop out, I haven't slept in months, we can barely make rent, my body is different now and I don't like it, but I'm still here.

Now, it's 2023.

And I'm still here.

[bookpirate32]

So at the risk of being BULLIED I am a twenty one pilots fan. My sister told me I should put this on the internet so here I am. I have been a fan since I was 12 years old. Blurryface had JUST come out and my teacher played Tear In My Heart in my jazz dance class and from there I heard migraine and ode to sleep and I was hooked. I was being over prescribed stimulants, my autism had been long undiagnosed, and my parents were not in tune with my needs. I’d been suicidal for 4 years at this point because I was basically walking through the world completely isolated from everyone else. My dad said it was just regular teenage angst. He knows it wasn’t now, but they had other kids to deal with. I wasn’t even really connected to my siblings. In a lot of ways, this music was my connection to the world for the very first time. My mom fell in love with Vessel and Self Titled, my brother loved Blurryface. Before I knew it my mom was taking us both to our first concert: The Emotional Roadshow. Ever since then, my mom and I have seen every tour together. We connect on a lot more things now, that I have my diagnosis and have moved out and I am getting the help I need. If it hadn’t been for Tyler and Josh and their art, I don’t think I would have a relationship with my mom. I don’t think I would have been able to move past the hurt. I don’t think I would have been able to forgive. We talk all the time now, and I can tell her how I feel without it hurting our relationship. The other day, they dropped their 7th album (Tyler Joseph’s 7th work, Josh Dun’s 6th work with them operating as a duo) Clancy. Since this album was released we have texted or called all day every day. I’ve called and texted my sisters every day about it. Yesterday my mom and I talked for 2 hours about what songs were the best, and why, and what they were about and the lore and the videos. I found myself so excited to talk to her about everything this album had given us. My favorite song on this album is called “Oldies Station”. It’s about surviving suicide and suicidal ideation. It tells of Tyler’s personal struggles with major depressive disorder, and how his mental health has bettered and worsened depending on the seasons of his life. It means so much to be. Twenty one pilots means so much to me. They mean so much to family. So I guess thanks for everything.

[fayythe]

Divine Love: Chapter One

Henry Cavil X OFC Summary:

Rhylan Daines property of the United States Government, the training she took on, the beating, and pain was all manipulating her to loose her body autonomy, they tell her to eat a certain way, talk, walk, act. Nothing is hers, how can she escape the torture her life has become? Now an semi-active black ops Navy Seal working for the CIA struggled to make peace with her past.  She was always told that every life she took, every person she tortured, and every soul she crushed was for the greater good, but how is more violence supposed to help the world?  How can acting help her stop being forced to kill? How can finding love help her find herself? Only time will tell...

Tigger Warnings:

Slight Alcoholism, Assault, Kidnapping, Blood, Skin Branding, Heavy Depression, Drugs, Undiagnosed eating disorder, Forced Eugenics, Talk of Genocide, talk of war, talk of gore, Hospitalizations for medical reasons, Mental Health issues, Hitman/murder unrecognized by law, Profanity, Military Brutality, torture, terrorism, violence, scars, seizures.

Rhylan's Tattoos

Rhylan's Body Scars Diagram

“I have always believed, and I still believe, that whatever good or bad fortune may come our way we can always give it meaning and transform it into something of value.”

― Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha

Chapter 1: Судьба

Судьба… Russian... meaning – Fate

December 11th, 2015

   My dreams were always clouded with dark light, nightmares from my past. Sometimes colors and the good parts like handing out candy to refugee children, or others like being beaten by the KGB. I still remember their questions.

 But somehow, I always end up waking up with my body in the fetal position, covered in sweat head to toe and a knife so tightly in my hand my knuckles are white, only this time someone was banging on the door.

“Rhylan! Open this door! We have to get ready; you better not be sleeping!” Nelia, my assistant, and the closest thing I have to a friend. I sat up from my cramped position, still feeling the stray pieces of my strawberry-blonde hair stuck to the back of my neck. “I’m coming!” I yelled, and the banging stops. I sit up, throwing my legs over the side of the bed, clicking the pocketknife closed, and placing it on the end table.  To be completely honest, I was purposefully taking my time to get to the door. I was dreading the following event to take place.

Something about me, even while I was younger, I tend to gravitate to the quietest and loneliest of places. I rather observe and watch from afar. But—I was promised free food and I can’t cook so this works out for me.

Once I finally made it to the door to see Nelia, she was already made up so beautifully. Her dark skin was glittering with her favorite shimmer lotion, and she smelled of her signature gardenia and cinnamon, her hair tight in its updo was always my favorite part about her, while my red-ish blonde hair was straight, her auburn brown hair was curly. It had natural volume. Maybe I should get a perm? I thought to myself. Then the image of me in middle school popped into my head and I physically cringed. No, thank you. Not again.

“What’s wrong?”

I didn’t realize I hadn’t invited her inside yet, nor did I realize she was carrying two large plastic bag-looking things

“Don’t worry, come in. It’s good to see you. Uhm—you can set your stuff on the table.”

I stepped away from the fetal funnel giving her room to walk into my hotel suite and set her belongings on the large round table in front of an array of windows.

“Oh, don’t you worry this stuff isn’t for me, this is what you’re going to wear at the award shows tonight”

I groaned. The sound was intended to be inside my head but apparently, I spoke it.

“Oh, don’t you start, you chose the walk of life as your next career path. No complaining. Now go take a shower, you look like you just got sprayed by a sprinkler.”

She reached into her back pocket “Also put these on instead of a bra”

She handed me flesh-looking stickers, two of them. I looked at her with my eyebrow raised, “They’re pasties” she shrugged. “Just do it” 

“Fine, do I wear underwear?” I questioned…maybe I should’ve thought a bit harder about the answer to that question.

“I mean if you’re into going commando at public events, I’m all for it.” She winked.

“Asshole” I muttered, walking towards the bedroom for the large shower.

“You love me!” I heard her yell back.

She was right, I did love her in a sisterly type of way. She is one of the only people alive who knows who I am to my core, sometimes I can’t tell if that’s for the best. Am I corrupting her innocence being around her? Am I that dark plague I fought hard not to be? I couldn’t tell you.

   But Nelia has always been there for me, she knows the pain I went through in the military and the battles I have with myself though she’s never asked me any questions. She’s resilient, and that’s what I’ve always admired so highly of her, especially for being so young.

  I found myself standing in front of the large mirror in the stupid huge bathroom, missing my dog, and my own home. I started to take off my shirt, watching my fit body tense to the cold. Scars are one of the reminders of who I am. So many. So many stories. And ironically, I almost remember all of them, every story for every scar.

The shower went by in a blur, the hot water on the hottest setting the heat piercing through my skin. I missed the feeling of pain.

When walking out of the bathroom, I froze in the corridor. A short man with broad shoulders was by the table Nelia was originally. I pulled the two halves of my white hotel robe together. I contemplated sneaking away and grabbing my gun from the other room, but I took a deep breath and tried my best to tell myself that not everyone wants to hurt me.

Nelia walked out of the closed-off kitchen of the suite “Rhylan! It’s so good to see you finally join us, this is Lorenzo, the hair stylist and makeup artist I was telling you about” She winked.

I was confused at first, Lorenzo?

---I hadn’t heard of a Lorenzo.

Had I?

I deiced to just go with it, taking a few steps forward and giving this real-ist smile I could manage, I could tell by how Nelia rolled her eyes she could tell the smile I so tightly pulled across my face was fake, she knew me too well.

“Right, Lorenzo! I’ve heard so much about you” I stop about four feet away from him. His face is soloist but soft, he was examining me observing my flaws though I didn’t really care, I do it to myself so often, I’m so numb to the feeling.

What was strange was the second he was done observing me, he ran up and grabbed my face giving two kisses on both my cheeks, in my short time in France the term there for this… appalling greeting… was called la bise, and to this day I still hated my personal space being completely devalued. Though, being undercover was different, I was there for a task and tasked to be a different person. I couldn’t be the Rhylan with personal space issues or haphephobia: the fear of touch.

I immediately tensed completely, and it took everything in my body not to put this poor man into a headlock, so I looked at Neila in the corner of my eye for some time of escape. Luckily, she came to my rescue.

“Lorenzo is here to do your hair and makeup for the shoot, I would, but you’re a pain in my ass. You’re likely to be nicer to someone that you first met.” Nelia pulls Lorenzo back away from me, not before giving her a raise of his dark brow.

Does this dude speak—?

I was caught off from my thought when he finally spoke with his rough Italian and—and what was that a hint of a French accent? Okay maybe my la bise reference earlier actually made sense, I thought to myself silently chuckling.

“Ok’ let us get this done, come, sit, sit my dear,” Lorenzo spoke gesturing me to the dining chair draped with a towel, I nodded and sat in the uncomfortable chair with metal framing and a leather cushion. The 2000’s called they want their chair back. I swear I had this exact one in my bedroom…

“Let me look at you,” he says gesturing to my face, I give him a slight nod of the head. What I didn’t expect was his hands to be all over my face, what the fuck, does this guy see with his hands…wait, what was that smell, garlic bread? Gross. I internally gag.

I pulled back abruptly confusion and anger were on my face as I could see the change in expression in his eyes, fear, was that it? “I kid, I kid” he laughed he was quick to pull my hair up back into a large bun. He kid? Man, this guy had some serious balls.

"Neila will you please pour me a large glass of Jewel, I don’t think I can get through this without it” I spoke, hearing her rummage through something out of the corner of my ear. “Nope. Drinks will be served at the award shows, but it also would be bad for you to show up drunk to the red carpet before.” I laughed, really laughed. “We both know one drink won’t hurt me, please” I tried my best to make my best pleading voice I could manage. “Rhylan, you’ve known me long enough to know I don’t budge, I also won’t be the one to let you feed into your unhealthy habit” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms, “Come on! You know the only drinks that will be served is Korbel, or Jack Daniels”

“Tuff. Maybe you’ll be lucky you never know” She gives me the smallest smirk and I want to punch her in the shoulder so hard. Oh, so hard.

“Okay I’m ready for the beautifying processes” Lorenzo speaks up, somehow, I didn’t observe him laying out each chalk palette and cream sticks in a perfect horizontal row along with a questionable long black…sex toy? No, there’s a red light on it. I cringed, what the fuck is that... I need to do some research.

“Please turn on Dr. House maybe that will tie me over,” I asked sighing, Neila smiled and nodded.

I related to Dr. House a lot. He hates people, I hate people. He doesn’t believe in anything of religion, I was just beaten so much by Russians that no matter how many times I pleaded for God to help me, he never came, and I had to help myself.

And in this situation, all my books were at home, in my office I missed so dearly.

“What look are we looking for today, eh? We could do something natural, maybe give you a red lip to bring out those beautiful teeth” Lorzeno suggested looking over at Neila for approval, “That will be perfect!”

I rolled my eyes, of course, it would be… damn this is going to be a long day…

---

Once Lorzeno finally finished my makeup and hair, I was excused, I needed a nap already.

“Can I see it?” I asked gesturing to the mirror, Neila stopped me immediately “No! You must be finished. So, it’s time to get dressed.” She turned to Lorzeno abruptly who was already almost finished backing up all his messy belongings and his black questionable sex toy, which I now know it to be a hair curler. “Time for you to leave Lorzeno, thank you for all your hard work, your payment will be deposited into your bank account in the morning.”

“Aye, this work I’ve done, my mama would be so proud.” Lorenzo becomes teary-eyed and walks out of the hotel room. I physically cringe, what a wimp it’s just makeup it’s not like he gave me plastic surgery.

---Though, maybe I should into that. I ponder the thought.

“Okay he’s gone, now strip” She gestures to my robe.

I smirk, “if you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask,” I gave a dry chuckle and dropped the robe. 

Being trained in the military for Bootcamp, a normally male-dominated career, and then being trained as a navy seal which never has any female get pasted the entrance test has me generally emotionless to feeling embarrassed.

I’ve had to take donkey-sized shits in the middle of the woods would an audience of five men, I’ve had to sit in front of a fire butt ass naked because I was stupid and decided to jump in a freezing lake as this fucker, we were following for twelve fucking days caught us and dumped his cell phone.

 Take a big breath Rhylan, and don’t overwhelm yourself.

I’m sorry, I have strong feelings if you’re offended get over it. Sorry, not sorry.

Coming back to reality I observed my situation all over again.

I was a good four inches taller than Neila, while she was just thin and lean with natural curves, I was muscular and toned, and the scars and tattoos I had taken part in distracted people from what my feelings and thoughts were, it was a mask. A successful one at that, nobody ever bothered me willingly.

She cringed, “Whatever, you’re gross.”

She handed me a pair of black dress pants, and I sept into them. A perfect fit, maybe that expensive ass dress stylus was worth the money. The pants were more like skinny jeans, the idea was to make them a bit more formed and fitting to let my muscular curves show through. Me being me, I don’t understand whom that would help but I just take Nelia’s word for it.

Next was the blazer, this is the part I was most nervous about. The blazer had no undershirt and just a single button connecting the two halves together, showing my cleavage and the huge ass scar on my chest.

I pull the blazer on connecting the button together, “What if they ask, you know about the scar, how I got it”

Neila smiled sort of endearingly, “Tell them the truth, it’s good press.” She chuckles.

But is it really? Would people think of me differently if they knew my past? I mean the public knew I was in the military, but they didn’t know what branch or what I did in the military, the CIA… whom I killed, whom I kidnapped… whom I tortured… who tortured me.

I really couldn’t decide whether the public needed to know or if they should know. I just knew for completely sure; I didn’t want to be treated differently. I didn’t want pity; I didn’t need it. I spent the entire first twelve years of my life trying to prove to people that I am as strong, powerful, and courageous as my country needed me.

And heck, I was the first solo female Navy Seal and former CIA Agent. Look at me now bitches, I didn’t need you, I didn’t need your opinions then and I don’t need your opinions now.

I nod at Neila finally coming content with my thoughts and she hands me a pair of long black Nike socks, and the most gorgeous, black-heeled combat boots I had ever seen, I raised my eyebrows “Okay, I got to admit those are kind of kick-ass” I grabbed them out of her hands shoving my feet through the socks, and boots and standing up.

“I knew you’d like them. Okay, one last thing. Jewelry” Neila gestures for me to turn around and I do as I lift my hair up, she puts on multiple silver chains the longer ones first, and then decrease in length finally stopping at a black choker.

Then she physically turns to be back around practically shoving diamond studs in my ear lobes, then fixing my light strawberry blonde curls while standing on her tip tones.

“Okay, It’s perfect! You can see now” She gestures to the mirror.

I walk over towards the shiny plastered glass embedded into the wall not truly expecting what I would see but when I did end up in front of it. I didn’t see myself. My hair, which hair normally long and stick straight and split in the middle, now was curled and split on the side. The bright red lipstick did exactly what it was meant to do, make my horse teeth stand out, goal achieved.

I now knew why Neila didn’t want me to see myself when the makeup was finished; because she knew I would object.

Which is fair, I do have a high opinion of everything, yet strangely I won’t take anyone else’s opinion. This is probably why I still don’t have social media even though my management encourages it strikingly so, I don’t care. I have my reasons; they’ll just have to respect them. I know what’s best for the course and the safety of my life.

 But who cares now, the torture of this grueling makeover experience was finally over, and I couldn’t wait to go home, I truly missed not having to check for bed bugs every time I slept in a bed that wasn’t my own which felt like a lot now.

Nelia handed me a black clutch, with a quick look inside I was able to spot my cellphone, my ID, exactly four hundred dollars in cash, and the red lipstick that smothered my lips.

I sighed, what did I get myself into? –

The limousine that Neila had rented to take me to and from the award shows was expensive, who could’ve known a bougie bus could’ve been so much to rent?

I chose the seats in the fairest back of the tacky bus I could manage; I was dreading this experience I still question how I ended up in this position in the first place.

That’s another story for another time.

I was bouncing my knee, my anxiety prevalent. I needed some alcohol, something to take the edge off.

"There’s got to be something to drink in here” I mumbled.

The amount of money Neila spent on renting this stupid invention, it better be bulletproof, and diamond encrusted. 

I lift the center console and see a mini fridge with fully stocked vodka and whiskey bottles, score.

I grab one, a decent vodka though it smelled like rubbing alcohol as I took the cap off, I gave the biggest drink I could manage.

Neila looked over at me from her phone, “what are you doing!” her voice was raised, and I shrugged, “I’m a grown woman, I deserve a drink” I screwed the cap back on, and she rolled her eyes and continued scrolling through her phone.

“You act like a teenager” She spoke.

To be fair it’s true, I was broken, depressed had a slight alcohol problem. Most teenagers were just like me nowadays.

I didn’t say anything, and I wasn’t going to object to the truth, but I also wasn’t going to feed into an argument. Jeez, we act like sisters.

“Here, this is your speech in case you win an award and the address to the nearest fast food. I won’t be here with you when the awards are over, I must be up early in the morning.”  She handed me two pieces of paper, I briefly looked them over and was content with what I saw I stuffed it into my blazer pocket.

Once we got passed all the traffic and finally made it in front of the red carpet, I got ready.

“Remember, just own it, be yourself, pose, smile some, and answer questions,” Neila said, trying to reassure me.

I didn’t help. “This is your mission, you’re a famous actor, you are kind, funny, and easy-going”

That did a little bit, “This is my mission” I repeated.

“You got this girl” she spoke, giving me a pat on my thigh.

My door was opened by some type of

"It's good to see you Ms. Daines." He spoke offering me a hand; which I didn't take.

"It's Rhylan, but thank you." I said back. Maybe that was a bit too sly, should I apologize? I shook my head, I didn't realize how much I hated being around people until now.

In person the red carpet was a stronger red than I expected, the tacky ropes holding the screaming people waving flashing cameras were taller than those on television. I was truly not prepared to what was ahead of me.

I gave off my fakest smile and sent a wave with the hand that was wrapped so tightly around the head of my bottle of shitty vodka. That only made the crowd go scream more and the flashing of cameras burn my retinas, that wasn't a smart idea.

"Just follow the carpet, people will direct you" The big broody fake security guard said.

I nodded walking down the carpet with the plastic smile still across my face, lets hope I can get through this soon. I'm starving.

I stopped at this guy with long curly hair standing by a red-letter x on the floor, he was nicely dresses in a simple suit, he offered me a smile which I somewhat returned.

"Rhylan Daines, is it? My name is Cole, this is a slow-motion camera. Would you like to take a cool slow-motion video?"

I looked off to the large camera on a crane looking arm. I'll definitely pass. "Yes, Nice to meet you Cole. I—Uh, I'll pass not really my thing" I said, nodding.

"Are you sure? It will only take a few seconds." His voice was very encouraging.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm a bit too new to this, maybe next time. It was nice to meet you, Cole"

I offered him my hand, which he took and gave another smile.

"Okay, just continue the way down the carpet." He gestured.

I started walking down the carpet, the flashing going off ten folds. I was holding my clutch in one hand and the other was still cemented on the rim of my vodka, which I now considered my comfort bottle, even though how badly it tasted to my normal choice of Jewel.

The people screaming my name, the flashing -- It made my eyes water and my ears ring, I wanted to escape this strange hell or heaven, they always used to say heaven would be welcomed by a bright white light.

I go up to a lady holding a microphone out nearly getting trampled by the incoming crowd pushing against the ropes. She offered me a smile, telling me her name, which I honestly couldn't hear nor did I really care.

I held up a finger, in one of those pause gestures causing her to stop talking.

I looked above to the crowed and pushing my voice from my diaphragm, I spoke in the voice the military gifted me. "Listen up, If anyone wants me to answer their questions, start by this: Quit leaning on the ropes, turn your flash off; it makes my eyes hurt, and stop shouting. I can assure you everyone twenty miles away can hear you, while y'all are at it, give this girl some space, come on guys don't be rude."

The crowd became quiet, while cameras were still up and the sound of clicking was continuing, the bright flash blinding my eyes ceased and the crowd backed up a bit leaving the short lady some space to stand up straight. She offered me a smile, which I pretended to not see.

"Thank you"

"Don't worry about it, I understand being on the bottom of the totem pole" I spoke.

I wasn't lying for once either. The military especially the navy was so male dominated when I joined, nobody took me seriously. It surprised everyone when I applied to go to SEAL training and got accepted, they thought it was a joke, a girl? Special ops? Please.

Boy did I prove them wrong, though nobody expected me to get through it. The first few women before who were brave enough to try, never got past the first few days. Therefore, making me the very first female navy seal.

But let me tell you, it still pissed me off they wouldn't let me on a submarine, no females allowed? Are you joking? Not to mention, few months after they ship me and my shit to the CIA the headlines stated, 'United States Navy now allows women on submarines'.

THE AUDACIY.

"So am I able to ask you a few questions?" I nodded, "Go for it"

I somehow new they were going to be personal, but it feels like every time I end up around a fan or paparazzi, they are always inclined to ask about my life outside of acting.

While I could understand the curiosity, I was good at keeping my life a secret I did it for so long and for so many years. It was annoying they wouldn't ask about my work, how I was able to overcome things, how I ended up being so successful so fast. Seeing this was my first appearance on film and main character? That's generally never heard of.

"It's strange, there's been a few other appearances for the cast of Mad Max; Fury Road. What made you not go to those and make an appearance here?" She pointed the microphone at me,

I actually laughed, "I was told there was going to be free food here, I can't cook worth of shit"

"Damn it—fuck, My bad, I'm sorry. I was told not to curse" I cover my mouth, she just laughed "Don't worry about it"

"Uhm—Your backstory is a little bit scrambled; nobody can figure out who you are. What did you do before making your big debut into the world of acting?"

Scrambled? Who said that? Damn, I want some eggs now.

Okay Rhylan, stop thinking about food. Answer her question.

Right her question, what was her question?

"Oh, I was in the military" I said, not the full truth, not a full lie either though.

Her eyes widened a bit and as she looked down to look at her clip board her eyes caught the scar on my chest, damn. This was going so smoothly, now more questions, I internally groaned.

"Really? What branch?"

I thought about it, should I really answer it. I shook my head; I'll deal with the repercussions later. I rather be honest now.

"Navy"

She smiled, "That's really cool, actually my da—"

I felt someone kiss my cheek, I turned my head and see Tom smiling, "It's good to see you again, twinkle toes." He spoke in his rough British accent, I smiled, a true Rhylan smile.

"You know I hate that nickname—" I playfully punched his shoulder.

"Tough."

I smiled and rolled my eyes, Tom and I stepped back to pose in front of the wall with random logo's sponsoring the award shows.

Soon more of the cast of Mad Max, Fury Road, showed up. Of course, Nick, being Nick decided to try to give me a hug and that was the worst pain I had ever experience.

Once we were sitting a table in the huge auditorium, which was lucky towards the back, I finally felt my self-relax a little bit.

I took a long-awaited swig of my vodka, "So, how have you been? Any new projects yet?" Tom asked trying to make small talk,

"Yeah, I've gotten a quite a few offers. I haven't really made any decisions yet."

A waiter with fancy a fancy black vest and white undershirt, put a large plate of salad in front of me, my lips curled in disgust. I hate salad, or rabbit food as I called it.

"No thank you" I gave the plate back to him which he took and ran off. Probably to gossip, I don't blame him. I would too.

"What were the offers?" Tom continues, him picking up the fork and shoving the leafy green bullshit in his mouth.

I took another sip of my vodka, "Return of Zander Cage, Deadpool, few tv show appearances and uhm—" I paused, I just knew he was going to chew my ass out. "Wonder women"

Tom dropped his fork, making the rest of the cast look at us, I awkwardly smiled, Nicholas next to me put his hand on my shoulder, "You okay love?"

"Don't worry" I said, pulling his hand off my shoulder. No touching. I hate people touching me.

I looked back over to Tom, "Wonder women, are you kidding me!"

"Shh!" I hit his shoulder.

"Nobody is supposed to know keep your mouth shut. You're lucky I even told you"

When I met Mr. Tom Hardy here, I didn't know a damn thing about what I was getting myself into. The whole setting was new to me, which generally caused my emotions to be out of whack. I got the role of Imperator Furiosa by chance. I was at the right place at the right time, and I guess the right people had their happy panties on, end the end, here I am.

While I do wish I could thank those that fought for me to get the role and ultimately succeeded, a part of me wondered where I would be now if they didn't.

Probably still undercover, maybe seizing somewhere in a dark alley alone again.

While It was true, I didn't like people. I didn't like being around them, I didn't like incessant need every person I met in this career felt the need to hug or touch me or give me advice I didn't ask for. I did enjoy exploring the inner part of me that always had a love for the arts.

When I first started out, Tom really helped me through the new emotions and situations I wasn't used to experiencing, I really owe some part of supposed fame to him, now he's the closes thing I have to a friend in this industry.

"You're going to take it right?" Tom asked, the previous look of concern still plastered on his face.

"Wonder women? Oh—I don't know. Nelia thinks I should, but I think I should just roll a dice or something."

Just then a six-ounce steak on a fancy glass white plate was put in front of me, I licked my lips. Food.

Oh how I was starving. I hadn't eaten anything all day.

I took a bite of the steak; it was juicy and medium rare just how I liked it.

The vocal moan I let out of my mouth made the table laugh as Nicholas threw a few jokes, normally I would flip him off, but the juicy steak stole my attention from reality. Okay, maybe this isn't so bad after all.

The rest of the time I spent there was a blur, I remember once food was done being served and the awards were starting, the announcer did the long draw out introduction made some sad jokes, looking back on it I don't even remember their name.

Damn. That's sad.

I found myself just drinking, before I knew it, I had downed the full bottle and I finally felt the buzz I was looking for, craving.

I wasn't anywhere near drunk, but I wasn't sober, and it was awesome. No pain, complete honesty and I bet if I tried, I could sleep more than two hours straight.

Alcohol, you know those ads that say it doesn't solve your problems, they're lying to you.

Truly.

When Tom's hand slapped me back into reality things happened all too fast,

"They called your name! Get up there!"

Oh shit.

What.

Me?

Oh no, fuck.

I might die, shit no, I might puke, and shit my paints...and die. All at once.

I bet it would be a record.

I scoot back my chair and start to walk up to the stage as clapping continues, I made sure to give off the realest fake smile I could manage and a few waves to a different actors and celebrities I had recognized, surprisingly all of them waved back.

Huh, okay maybe not everyone in this industry are snobs.

Once I received the fancy award, for best staring actress, I said thank you to the host or whatever, which I still didn't know the of and he handed me a microphone.

Fuck. A speech?

I wasn't prepared for this.

I looked at the huge room full of different celebrities of all different talents and my mind froze, as I felt for the speech Neila had written for me I mentally cursed.

But hey, the address to...

"I had prepared a speech, I had written it down and everything."

Lie.

"But I guess I lost it, now I only have the address for IN-AND-OUT, what the hell is that?"

Crowd laughed. Well that's a good start.

"North main street, if anyone wants to know."

The crowd laughed again.

Maybe this will go somewhat good.

"I'm not really good at public speaking, never have. This is all so new to me. I started acting because I learned I enjoyed being in other people's shoes, feeling they're emotions, processing the way the think. Reliving they're experiences." As I was speaking in the microphone, I was looking over every face I could see in the large room everyone had a normal unjudging facial expression.

Fuck it, the lady that interviewed me outside will have parts of my backstory on newspapers in a few days. I rather it come straight from me.

"I was in the Navy before stepping in the audition that changed my life for the better, while I can't really say much about my time in it or after, I can say that those moments laughing and working with the cast that made me find a love in the arts again really helped me through those tough days, and to get this..."

I looked at the trophy, best staring actress for Mad Max: Fury Road.

"Thank you"

The crowd broke out clapping again, the table in the back of course hollering my name. Nicholas and Tom probably, maybe they've had a little bit too much to drink.

Don't be a hypocrite Rhylan, it's not like you didn't just wash down a whole bottle of acetone. Watch my kidney's bleed while I pee later.

Karma is a bitch they say.

Once I handed the microphone back to the host and said my goodbyes, I made it back to the table where all the cast congratulated me, while most of them knew I didn't enjoy being touched, I couldn't let myself pull back from a hug from Rosie or Zoe.

Tom did get a little bit jealous though, so I gave him a side hug, still the same right?

My award was pretty, though I can't describe what it looks like because realistically it's kind of ugly and I don't want judgement.

Its pretty because I worked my ass off for it.

I always did well with positive reinforcement, you know like when you teacher gives you a star sticker and you prize that stupid sticker the entire day.

Maybe that's why the military gives you racks? The big kid sticker.

Never thought about it that way

Guess as you get older you realize things you didn't before

The rest of the show went on fast; the last few people got their award and the live show was wrapped up. They finally let everyone either say goodbye and leave, or go to the after party which was in a different section of the large building.

To be honest, I wanted to leave.

"There will be all you can drink, free alcohol" Tom whispered in my ear, him drunk already.

I raised my eyebrow, really? Free? Well don't mind if I do.

"Fine, I'll go but no dancing or weird shit."

The party section was kind of like the warehouse clubs I went to as a teenager. Gosh, I missed those days.

It had strobe lights of colors and fancy black and white party decorations. The music was some disco noise that honestly made my ears bleed but was such a repetitive beat it was easy to drown out.

The one thing that did call my attention was the long bar with multiple bartenders in black long-sleeved shirts, two male and one female with bright blue hair. There were empty stools lined along the counter of the bar, most people were just ordering a drink and going off to different standing tables to mingle with their fellow celebrity friends. Not me.

"Hey, I gotta take a piss, catch up with you a minute" Tom said tapping my arm to get my attention over the blaring music, I nodded in response.

Once Tom wondered off to find a restroom, I made my way to the bar sitting in one of the surprisingly comfortable bar chairs. Nelia had stopped by before she had to leave and gave me a congratulatory speech. Well, more like her, because as her words, she was the 'best manager ever and I wouldn't have gotten this far without her'

Though she wasn't wrong, she could've been a bit more subtle about it.

But luckily, she had offered to take the award back to my hotel room before she went to hers, she made sure to insult how it looked beforehand though which is such like her.

I waved over the bartender, "Hey man, what's the best whiskey you got?"

He smiled holding up a finger for me to give him a moment, he walks over to the large shelfing system the bottle he grabbed was almost like a wine bottle, tall and slim with more of a corked cap.

"This shit, I swear everybody is sleeping on it" he said, grabbing a chilled shot glass and pouring me a taste, once he handed it to me, I gave it a good sniff catching hints of orange and honey, smells good.

I downed the shot in a swig, damn it was really good.

"Damn, whats this called?" I asked

"Eagle Rare, its aged for ten years or so. This want you want?" He raised the bottled up,

"Yeah, on rocks though. You better have more than that tiny bottle." I got settled in my chair pulling out my phone and flipping through it.

Not long I was already on my second glass, and I knew the alcohol was finally hitting me, I clicked the messaging app on my phone and sent a video to my mom.

"Hey Momma, I miss you and my puppy, California can suck my left nut, its so hot here and smells bad. Give my puppy a kiss for me, love you" I kissed the phone.

Sent.

Welp. I'll regret that.

"Can I get a martini, please"

A large British man asked the bartender, who then nodded and proceeded to make the drink.

A martini, how girly, and snobby...

The alcohol in me made the laugh I normally would've kept hidden made me break out in a cackle. A full-on smiling cackle, I was still talking to myself in my head, a martini?

I didn't even look at the man once, but I could feel him staring at me.

Okay man, what's with the staring?

Say what you want to say, I hate people who withhold how they feel. Its irritating, I should've have to play hopscotch and rock paper scissors at once to decipher what you want me to figure out.

"Why are you laughing?" He asked, finally receiving his drink from the bartender, and taking a small sip.

"Because—a martini." I laugh again.

"Yeah? What's wrong with a martini?" His voice...it was deeper but sounded so familiar.

I was too drunk to put my finger on it.

"What isn't wrong with a martini? Is so boring"

For some reason, I still wasn't looking at him.

"What's a good suggestion then?" He asks, from the corner of my eye I could see him setting down his martini.

"Jewel, but normally nobody has it." I shook my head, so sad, stupid Russian imports.

Just then the bartender pulls out the bottle, Oh. My. God.

I think I'm going to start crying, and I never cry, especially in public.

I looked at the bartender my eyes were hazy, "I think I'm in love with you"

He cackled.

The fancy British guy continued, "Well since you suggested, I'll take a shot with you. Bartender, two please."

Just then two shots were placed in front of us, I started to pick mine up and go for the goal, my mouth.

"Wait, lets cheers on it." He offered.

I rolled my eyes, and turned facing him and froze.

Oh My Jersey.

The shock on my face didn't even phase him, he just clinked his shot on to mine and downed it in one sitting before placing the shot glass on the counter.

"Hi Rhylan," He said, getting slightly closer.

I was still frozen, I couldn't believe after almost, seven...eight... no, nine years from seeing each other the first time to now. The day me and Henry had met the first time and spent those few hours together had really changed my idea on what a soulmate was, or if it was possible.

Though because Henry had become close to me on mission and I had told him my real name, I had to keep tabs on him for a little while to make sure my choices didn't get him hurt...or even killed.

After he started getting a bit bigger in the acting world and got casted in some fancy show which I honestly didn't care to watch, he moved to London, and I had stopped needed to keep tabs on him, he was safe.

As much as I wanted to see him again, I felt some type of connection I had never felt before with Henry as long as I was in the career path I was in I was never going to be able to be with him without him being in danger, not to mention how unfair it would be to be in a relationship with someone and not being able to tell them all the ways something could go wrong because it was 'classified'.

It's why my dating world was dry and stuck to hook ups where the guy was okay with me being on top and in control. Though nowadays it was it was hard to come by without using some type of app which I wasn't going to do now because of my social status.

"Rhylan?"

Henry grabs the full shot glass and puts it on the counter as I slowly come back to reality.

"Henry?" My throat was dry.

"Yes, it seems you do remember me, is that right?"

I nodded, my body still frozen from the utter shock I was in right now. The chances of him standing here in front of me right now...

"It's been a while—"

"Almost ten years." I said, my eyes looking down, he had grown a lot of muscle over the years, and it seemed either he had a stylist or he now knew how to dress himself. Either way I guess is good.

"Yes, almost." 

"Why are you here?" I asked, my voice was fast, and I knew it showed more emotion than I wanted.

"I was nominated, I won too. But I should be asking you the same question."

"Never mind that—it doesn't matter." I turned back to my drink taking a long sip.

Henry moved closer, my arm holding my head up the only barrier between him and his hot breath. "Why did you leave that day? I looked for you." His voice was deep, he was intending for only me to hear it. But the British accent, the deep sultry tone of his voice and his hot breath in my ear, it gave me serious goosebumps.

I cringe and pull away from his delicious voice, too close, way to close. I glanced at him, reading his face, he was buzzed that was for sure you could tell by the haze in his beautiful blue eyes. I glanced back at my drink, downing the rest of the orange smoked whiskey.

"Are you going to answer my question?" His eyes were drilling into me, I could feel it without even looking at him. "Nothing to answer" I waved over the bartender to get my fourth glass of the addicting poison. "Bullshit" He hissed— "I don't know what you want to hear Henry, I was on mission, you knew my name, where I was from, if the wrong person saw me with you, your life could've been in danger." Henry shook his head; he was obviously not happy with that answer. "Why tell me anything if you felt that way?"

I didn't answer that, while I knew the answer, I wasn't going to admit I felt content with Henry that day. The connection I felt then was still present, Henry was open and honest, he spoke his mind but was also mostly a gentleman while doing it. "Doesn't matter." Henry stood from leaning on the bar, his frame was large well over six foot tall his face cleanly shaven and his hair was just perfectly messed up, something my hazy eyes caught was the tinge of pinky nude lipstick on his lips.

He had a date.

Go figure.

Henry pressed his hand on my shoulder, and I froze, twirling around and grabbing his wrist tightly, "Something I've developed from the last time you saw me. I despise being touched." The sensation when someone touched me was overwhelming, it was like every nerve in my body was on fire and I felt the pain of being electrocuted all over again. I couldn't stand it, why did everyone feel the need to touch me. I threw his hand, it was rude, I know it was, but his gaze never changed while he was looking at me.

"I'm not the same person anymore." I started,

"I'm more broken then I once was, I have flashbacks, I don't sleep, and I fucking hate people"

"I don't even know what drugs I was on to make me want to start acting. I guess the apple doesn't fall from the tree"

When I was undercover, the CIA would give me a new identity for every different mission I was on, every new name comes with new hobbies, new ways to think, new dress style, I never was myself and quite frankly I still now know nothing about who I am.

I'm lost and broken, and so far from being fixed or having a possibility being fixed.

"Henry! There you are, I was looking for you!" A blonde British female shouted causing my ears to ring. "Have fun" I said sarcastically, downing the rest of my drink.

"Let me get your number, we need to talk more." He asked frantic to pull out his phone.

"I'll pass, seems your too busy for a common distraction." I gestured to the blonde.

I pulled a hundred-dollar bill from the clutch and tipped the bartender that served me in my self-pity, leaving Henry standing frozen at the bar.

Unfortunately, the only exit to leaving this hell hole would make me pass by the bleach blonde mistress. I stopped beside the blonde, whispering in her ear. "Tara King, you surely do have your work set out for you."

I'll admit it was to intimidate her, while I knew her name, she didn't know mine, I just seemed like random crazy stalker that was hitting on her boyfriend. As I was walking off I saw Tom resting his hand on the wall breathing heavily, "Rhylan there you are—"

“I'm pissed" I said walking off. I had to get out of here, out of the hell that I called my life, the hell of seeing Henry again. The uber ride home was long and over drawn, luckily the driver didn't recognize me or try to make conversation which is something hard to come by lately.

Once I made it to my hotel room, I stripped off all the ridiculous clothes off the moment I closed the door, kicking off the pretty but uncomfortable boots and taking off every neckless Neila insisted on.

I made my way to the shower letting the burning hot water turn my skin bright red.

Pain.

I was so desensitized to it.

I sat one the fancy white couch just staring at the blank television, my life had changed so much over the years, when I was young, I hated change, I would run away from it.

Every part of my life had to be scheduled, when I ate, when I slept, what activities had to be planned out with people. Nothing could differ from my schedule but after the navy... everything changed.

The way I perceive the world changed, the average person doesn't realize how much evil is in the world, how much hate there is in the world. Corrupt officials, terrorists of all different races and nationalities, drug dealers...cartel, I could make a list. I turned on Dr. house watching the finale of season four where spoiler alert Dr. Wilson's soulmate dies.

I cried like a baby no joke.

I looked at the clock it was nearly three in the morning, I guess I better get some sleep, if any.

If only I knew what my future had in store for me.

[chaotic-and-mentally-ill]

Welcome To The Blog (Again)

I've remade this so many times at this point it's insane.

Greetings, my name is Angel (He/They) and I am the main mod of this blog (and also the main user). This used to be a ask blog run by two people, me and Bambi ( @pjofan10042 ). If they wish to reblog this and add onto it, they may. I come on here pretty often, and I have some pretty bad insomnia and sleep schedule, so don't be surprised if I'm on at 2am. I got off of Mountain Time zone, if that helps. Please respect that I will not be sharing my age publicly and I would like it if we can please keep it this way! If you know my age, keep it to yourself.

[More information under the cut]

- I am an artist and writer and I mostly write fanfiction for what ever my hyperfiction is. I post fanfiction on AO3 and post my art here. I also occasionally work with my hands and make things such as jewelry boxes, fairy bottles, clay sculptures and dishes, and many other things. - I own a lot of pets and have a huge love for animals and probably know way to many facts about them. - If you give me the chance I can and will info dump. But only if it's ok with you, of course. - I use headcannons as a way to get closer to my favorite/comfort characters. It can/is a coping mechanism. It's ok if you don't like my headcannons. -I use tone tags if I feel my tone is unclear, and I'd prefer if you use them back. Or use a different form of showing tone over text if possible. - I am an undiagnosed neurodivergent person (as far as I'm aware, currently working on getting tested for ADHD ^^") who struggles with server anxiety and trauma. I am a very socially awkward person especially online. Please be patient with me and inform me if I have made a mistake. - I am in multiple fandoms, although I don't plan to bring anything up anything past Pg-14, I may talk about Helluva Boss or Hazbin Hotel once in a while. Though that may be rare. - I love horror games, including phycological horror. Anything that can scare me I tend to adore a lot! Some of my favorite games are Sally Face, Omori, and Fran Bow. But I also enjoy simple games like Just Shapes And Beats, Placid Plastic Ducks, Wobble Dogs, Cult Of The Lamb, Stardew Valley, Terraria, The Henry Stickmin Collection, Goat Simulator, Sonic Adventures 2, The Murder Of Sonic The Hedgehog, Pokemon, ect

-I love cartoons and some of my favorites are My Little Pony, Bluey, 2012 and 2018 (Rise) Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Pokemon (again), The Owl House, Amphiba, ect

Any questions? Just ask, I'd love to answer if it's not to personal! . . .

Rules for the blog: ☕ Do not be unkind or creepy, I want a safe space

☕ Do not act inappropriate or in mature.

☕ Inform the mod(s) if there is a problem, and be kind about it. Do not come kicking down my door and scream. That will only cuase lots of stress and anxiety.

☕ You can give collective criticism and input, but only to mod Angel! (unless mod Bambi says otherwise) ☕ Don't ship children. Period.

☕ Don't repost. Reblogs are ok!

☕ Please reframe from speaking any language other than English, I only know a little bit of Spanish and Swedish I can not carry a whole conversation! (/lh)

☕ Be a respectful human being :] . . .

This next part will talk about triggers and DNI (Do Not Interact). Continue with caution.

DNI - T/cest supporter (or support in/cest in general), non/con, pro/con Pro/shippers, ya know what? anti/shippers you too, Homophobic/Transphobic/agents LGBTQ+ in general, racist, sexist, anti furry, NSFW, and anything of the like. Triggers - Self harm, Suicide, Eating Disorders

[axelars]

It’s kinda annoying because my (actual) diagnoses came during this “fad” of being traumatized and neurodivergent. So I feel like I annoy everyone when I talk about mine and that they don’t believe me/think I’m just looking for excuses/attention.

This is my story. Human names have been changed.

I am diagnosed Bipolar 2, ADHD, and Autistic.

I went my whole life undiagnosed of what was actually the reasons behind every single struggle I had, and there were, and continue to be ALOT. I talk about it so much because it’s a relief to understand myself now and to validate my experiences and start to heal and move forward. Since as long as I can remember, I felt out of place. Always a step behind everyone else and like I didn’t really belong anywhere. I was painfully shy. Speaking to people terrified me. I had frequent meltdowns and sensory issues that were brushed off as temper tantrums and being sensitive.

But I had friends. I had large friend groups I was a “part” of. I participated in team sports and dance. I maintained okay grades in school. I didn’t scream or meltdown in public. I didn’t stim or avoid eye contact (lol yes I did but had already learned to force it and my stims have always been low key). I didn’t have any “learning disabilities”.

Now I know the reason behind this is autism but it didn’t look the same as what everything knew it as, and girls especially learn to mask very fast and at a young age. And I did have learning disabilities. Auditory processing disorder is one. I mean I guess autism and adhd are learning disorders in themselves, but I don’t like calling them that. We just connect things differently and therefore learn, understand, and do things differently. But we’ve been told our whole lives we’re doing it wrong. We’re doing life wrong. But it becomes our normal so we think everyone feels like this.

Fast forward to high school. I’ve turned dark. My parents went through a really messy and toxic and abusive divorce when I was around 12. I’m 13/14 and I’m starting drinking, and smoke weed. This progresses to drinking heavily and often, and taking various pills. I’m diagnosed with major depressive disorder and generalized anxiety disorder at 15. Medicated and things get better. I finish high school (still partying alot), go to University and do alright and kinda just party my way through it. I got off my meds cause I’m cured! Around 25 or so I start having panic attacks. I can’t leave my house. I go back on meds but as always am still apathetic about life. Panic attacks dissipate and I learn how to manage them when they do happen. Things are pretty good. I get my degree in geology, meet my then partner, John, get my masters degree and then a job. We have 2 dogs, one we got together and one I had previously, and 2 cats. It’s good for a bit and then I get bored and stop caring.

And then Covid hits. All routine and structure and societal need to socialize disappears. At first it was awesome. I could sleep in and working from home was nice. But then I got bored and started caring less and less about my work. I couldn’t focus, keep track of time or even days gone by, was experiencing executive dysfunction, sensory issues got worse, and much more. I now know this is ADHD and Autistic burnout.

I’m diagnosed with ADHD and do a bunch of medication trials. Nothing works. It makes me more apathetic and I don’t give a single fuck about anything at all. Even the one thing that brings me joy which is dog training. I realize my childhood was really abusive and traumatizing and I’d been normalizing it. So I start trying to heal from that.

My partner at the time was the only thing keeping me afloat (love you John) but it also took a huge toll on our relationship. We moved to the Yukon. I switched to a new company. I became even more depressed and move back to Alberta without him. I take all of the animals (2 cats and 2 dogs) because he’s on shift work. He gets super depressed without his Emma (dog) and finds a way to not be on shift work anymore so he can take care of her. So I send her back to him because they really did have the best bond, and she was born to be a wilderness dog. But this was heartbreaking for me. I get involved in an extremely emotionally abusive and manipulating and as I later find out, dangerous situationship. I’d known him for over a decade so I could trust him right? Dead fucking wrong but we will get into that later. John is still my best friend. I get a border collie puppy and she’s amazing. He gets involved in a relationship (also abusive) and cuts off communication with me. I finally get diagnosed bipolar 2 and and medicated for it. I learn my first manic episode was at age 19 when I decided to go to New Zealand for 2 months out of nowhere. I hate travelling. I barely remember the experience and I wasn’t drinking or doing drugs.

John gets himself out and we are best friends again. I couldn’t do life at this point without him.

Things are starting to make sense and get easier. I’m able to regulate my emotions better. I get myself out of that abusive situationship. I completely change careers and leave geology and the security along with it (it’s the best decision I’ve ever made). This change brings new meaning and purpose and joy to my life, but it also ends a years long friendship and my dog training community and support system.

Then my soul dog, Ernie, and the reason I’m a dog trainer gets bone cancer and dies. I reconnect with my previous friends from the training community (silver linings?).

My mom gets cancer which has spread and needs chemo. She’s starting her third set of treatments this week. The doctors are optimistic but she never tells us the whole truth about scary things. I’m scared but trying to be positive.

Then I find out the real truth about my situation-ship. Him and his friend have allegations of sexually assaulting women together. At least one his friend was charged for but they got dropped when she could no longer afford it. Our justice system sucks. Like how is that fucking possible. I learn of other attempted assaults or close call and just overall inappropriate disgusting behaviour. I learn of the other women. I speak to them and even befriend one. I learn he told us all the same stories that “he’s never shared with anyone before”, cooks the same meals, makes the same jokes, literally all the same things. This guy has zero conscience or personality and genuinely believes he is a good guy. He would always talk about what a good guy he is 🙄. Well he had me fooled and a trail of traumatized women before me. I learn he sent all of us at the same time pictures of his 2 year old niece. I’m disgusted by this because what human uses their toddler niece to gain trust from women. He’s despicable so I tell his sister in law.

Anyways I put that behind me and meet a really nice guy, Tyler. We have awesome chemistry and we get each other. But he’s in the dark place and can’t be what I need. I understand this because I’ve been there several times but it still really sucks. I’ve had a really hard time moving on.

Fuckface is back on the dating apps going by a different name. He’s so vile 🤮

My training business is picking up and I’m genuinely starting to be kinda happy. I can at least get more daily things done but it’s still a disaster. Still having a hard time missing Tyler but managing. Before bipolar meds I would have spiralled into my pit of despair.

A new dog comes into my life. She is an Olde English Bulldogge just like Ernie was and I sincerely believe he sent her to me. The week before I met her as a training client for a rescue I train with, I’d been feeling his presence a lot. I’m about to adopt her and I started a part time job at a canine physiotherapy clinic doing hydrotherapy. I love it. I get to see my best friend after 5 years and meet her little daughter.

So I think things are kinda progressively getting better with each setback. But frick can I just be done with everything needing to be a lesson?? I’ve got my PhD at this point.

[a-gay-a-day]

Renee Vivien

Renee Vivien was a poet born in 1877, and spent her childhood in both London and Paris. Her poetry is most well known for reviving the sapphic verse, and she spent a lot of time with the contemporaries of her era, For example, Renee carried on a relationship with Violette Shillito (Thought this is debated) who introduced her to Natalie Barney, who she later had a relationship with, this one being much more certain.

Renee wrote in the french language. Here is one of her poems translated into english, though I could not find the translator:

Prolong the night, Goddess who sets us aflame! Hold back from us the golden-sandalled dawn! Already on the sea the first faint gleam   Of day is coming on.

Sleeping under your veils, protect us yet, Having forgotten the cruelty day may give! The wine of darkness, wine of the stars let   Overwhelm us with love!

Since no one knows what dawn will come, Bearing the dismal future with its sorrows In its hands, we tremble at full day, our dream   Fears all tomorrows.

Oh! keeping our hands on our still-closed eyes, Let us vainly recall the joys that take flight! Goddess who delights in the ruin of the rose,   Prolong the night!

Renee tried to kill herself by drinking laudanum later in her life. However, this did not kill her and she probably died of an undiagnosed eating disorder.

[spice2yurlife46]

Understanding PTSD: Breaking the Silence and Building Resilience

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is a condition that affects millions of people worldwide. Yet, despite its prevalence, it remains widely misunderstood and often goes undiagnosed or untreated. In this blog post, we will explore what PTSD is, its symptoms, potential causes, and most importantly, how we can support those affected by it.

What is PTSD?

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is a mental health condition that develops after experiencing or witnessing a traumatic event. Trauma can take various forms, such as combat exposure, physical or sexual assault, natural disasters, serious accidents, or the sudden loss of a loved one. Not everyone who experiences trauma will develop PTSD, but for those who do, it can significantly impact their daily lives.

Symptoms and Impact

The symptoms of PTSD can manifest in a variety of ways, and they may appear shortly after the traumatic event or even months afterward. Common symptoms include:

1. Flashbacks and intrusive memories: Vivid, distressing recollections of the traumatic event that can feel as if it's happening again.

2. Avoidance: Efforts to avoid reminders of the trauma, including people, places, or activities associated with the event.

3. Hyperarousal: Feeling constantly on edge, having difficulty sleeping, being easily startled, or having angry outbursts.

4. Negative mood and thought patterns: Persistent feelings of guilt, shame, or blame, as well as a diminished interest in activities once enjoyed.

5. Cognitive difficulties: Trouble concentrating, memory lapses, and difficulty making decisions.

Living with PTSD can be incredibly challenging, affecting relationships, work, and overall quality of life. Many individuals may also experience comorbid conditions, such as depression, anxiety, or substance abuse disorders.

Causes of PTSD

While anyone who experiences trauma can be at risk of developing PTSD, there are some factors that may increase susceptibility:

1. Severity of the trauma: The more severe and life-threatening the event, the higher the risk of developing PTSD.

2. Previous trauma: Individuals who have experienced trauma earlier in life may be more vulnerable to developing PTSD after subsequent traumatic experiences.

3. Lack of support: A lack of social support and a strong support system can contribute to the development of PTSD.

4. Biological factors: Research suggests that certain genetic factors and brain chemistry may play a role in PTSD development.

Building Resilience and Seeking Help

Fortunately, PTSD is treatable, and many individuals can find relief and healing with appropriate support and interventions. Here are some essential steps for managing PTSD:

1. Seek professional help: If you suspect you or someone you know might be experiencing PTSD, don't hesitate to seek help from a mental health professional. Therapies like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR), and medication can be effective in managing symptoms.

2. Build a support network: Engage with friends, family, or support groups who can provide understanding and empathy. Connecting with others who have experienced similar trauma can be particularly beneficial.

3. Practice self-care: Adopt healthy coping mechanisms such as exercise, mindfulness, and relaxation techniques to reduce stress and promote emotional well-being.

4. Create a safe environment: If you're supporting someone with PTSD, be patient, understanding, and non-judgmental. Allow them to talk about their experiences if they feel comfortable but never pressure them.

5. Raise awareness and reduce stigma: As a society, we must educate ourselves about PTSD and work towards creating a compassionate environment where seeking help for mental health issues is encouraged and destigmatized.

PTSD is a serious condition that can impact anyone who has experienced trauma. Recognizing the symptoms, understanding its effects, and providing support and resources are essential in helping those affected by PTSD on their journey to healing and recovery. Together, we can break the silence surrounding PTSD and foster a more compassionate and inclusive society for everyone, regardle

[gormandental]

Los Angeles Sleep Apnea Specialist: Restoring Healthy Sleep

Do you find yourself tossing and turning at night, struggling to catch your breath, or dealing with excessive daytime fatigue? These symptoms could be indicative of sleep apnea, a sleep disorder that affects millions of Americans. If you're searching for a solution in the City of Angels, a Sleep Apnea Doctor Los Angeles specialist might be your ticket to restoring healthy sleep and improving your overall well-being.

Understanding Sleep Apnea

Before we delve into the role of a Sleep Apnea Doctor Los Angeles specialist, let's grasp what sleep apnea entails. Sleep apnea is characterized by brief interruptions in breathing during sleep, known as apneas. These interruptions can occur multiple times throughout the night, leading to fragmented sleep and a range of related health issues.

There are two primary types of sleep apnea:

Obstructive Sleep Apnea (OSA): This is the most prevalent form of sleep apnea, typically caused by the relaxation of throat muscles, which leads to the narrowing or complete closure of the airway.

Central Sleep Apnea: Unlike OSA, central sleep apnea isn't related to physical airway obstructions. It results from the brain failing to send the appropriate signals to the muscles responsible for breathing.

Both types of sleep apnea can have severe consequences, including high blood pressure, cardiovascular problems, daytime fatigue, and an increased risk of accidents due to impaired alertness.

Why Consult a Sleep Apnea Doctor Los Angeles Specialist?

If you suspect that you or a loved one may be suffering from sleep apnea, it's essential to seek professional evaluation and treatment from a Sleep Apnea Doctor Los Angeles specialist. These experts possess the knowledge and tools required to diagnose and manage this condition effectively.

Here's why consulting a Sleep Apnea Doctor Los Angeles specialist is vital:

Accurate Diagnosis: Sleep apnea often goes undiagnosed because its symptoms can be subtle or mistaken for other issues. A Sleep Apnea Doctor Los Angeles specialist can conduct comprehensive evaluations, including sleep studies, to provide an accurate diagnosis.

Personalized Treatment: Once diagnosed, a Sleep Apnea Doctor Los Angeles specialist will collaborate with you to create a personalized treatment plan tailored to your specific needs. This plan may encompass lifestyle adjustments, CPAP (Continuous Positive Airway Pressure) therapy, oral appliances, or surgical options.

Ongoing Support: Managing sleep apnea is an ongoing process. A Sleep Apnea Doctor Los Angeles specialist will provide continuous care, monitor your progress, and make necessary adjustments to ensure your treatment remains effective.

Regain Your Healthy Sleep

Sleep apnea can have a profound impact on your health and daily life. If you or someone you know is grappling with sleep apnea symptoms, don't delay seeking the expertise of a Sleep Apnea Doctor Los Angeles specialist. Their specialized knowledge and experience can help you regain restful nights, improve your overall health, and enhance your quality of life.

Don't let sleep apnea dictate your nights and days any longer. Contact a Sleep Apnea Doctor Los Angeles specialist today at +1 818-390-9509 and take the first step toward a healthier, more well-rested future. Sleep well, Los Angeles!

[working-entrepreneurs]

Overcoming Clinical Depression in the Black Community

Beyond the Blues: 

We’ve learned in our lifetimes that life is filled with ebbs and flows; one minute, you’re high on a mountain peak, the next, you’re at the foot of that same mountain, scratching your head, and wondering how and when did you fall. Loved ones die, babies are born, divorces become final, and couples share their vows in the presence of loved ones and friends. Life is full of joyful times, and sorrowful ones as well. When we’re faced with life's many woes, it’s normal and natural to feel sad, angry, or just plain upset! In the Black Community, we sometimes refer to these times as having the ‘blues.’ But what if we find ourselves ‘stuck,’ struggling to complete daily tasks, or the sadness seems recurring? Mental Health America (MHA) explains that you may be suffering from Clinical Depression (“Depression in Black Americans”).

WebMD defines Clinical Depression or Major Depression as ‘A constant sense of hopelessness and despair,’ (Bruce) The site goes on to explain that those suffering with the mental disorder often struggle with daily tasks such as working, sleeping, studying, eating, and overall enjoying activities with family members and friends. In our communities, individuals displaying such behaviors can be viewed as ‘weak’ or ‘lacking faith.’ In my personal upbringing, depression was never considered a possibility, and was not applicable to our lives in any way whatsoever. However, as a survivor of multiple sexually abusive encounters, while on my journey to mental wellness, I was diagnosed with this very disorder. 

Clinical Depression is Color Blind:

Clinical Depression can happen to any human; no matter the race, age, gender, or social status. MHA explains that over 19 million Americans suffer from some form of depression disorder. Some populations are at higher risks than others, and Black Americans represent a large portion of said populations. On the contrary, depression can be as foreign as another language in our communities (“Depression in Black Americans”). As a result, several members will go undiagnosed, fail to search for viable treatments, and will continue to suffer from the disorder. This leads me to discuss some of the ‘myths’ surrounding mental disorders in the Black Community. 

Mental MythBusters:

As I previously mentioned, traumatic events of childhood (and early adulthood, for that matter) lead me to seek professional help from a licensed counselor. Professional counseling and psychiatric care were/are offered through the beneficial plan provided by my past and current employers. I chose to take advantage of these resources at the age of 33. I believe had I known another member of the community who sought professional treatment, I would not have missed several opportunities for me to do so. I was taught to take all my burdens to Jesus. It was also expressed to me on multiple occasions, that I am a descendant of slavery. If my ancestors can survive that, I need to dry my face and straighten my back bone. I’m not dismissing these life lessons taught to me from a young age, I am just attempting to shine a light on yet another form of oppression unbeknownst to many of us. 

The stigma surrounding clinical depression alone prevents several Black Americans from seeking proper treatment. We’re taught to take all our problems to the Lord in prayer, and leave them there. MHA even adds the fact that black women particularly, are not allowed to display forms of weakness. Such behavior is not, and will not be tolerated, and several of us have been/will be told to, ‘snap out of it,’ by loved ones and those who truly care about our well beings. I know personally Spiritual growth and oneness with the Most High are viable on the lifelong path to mental wellness. He also created mental health and provided the knowledge, awareness, and understanding of the mind and how it works to professionals who study the field. 

This has created a desire to advocate for the generation coming behind us and educate members of my community on the many benefits gained from seeking help, and how accessible it may be for some. MHA agrees that the earlier treatment is sought out, the better the outcome. Members of our community should not feel shame nor fall victim to the misconceptions of holistic healing. Seeking treatment takes great strength and self-reflection; accepting the challenge of becoming the best version of yourself (“Depression in Black Americans”).   

Triggers and Treatments:

Only a professional, I repeat, ONLY A PROFESSIONAL, can properly diagnose and treat the disorder. The National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), lists some common causes of the disorder. The top of the list is what impacted my mental welfare. Experiencing trauma, rather sexual, physical, or emotional, at a young age causes long-term effects in how individuals, myself included, respond to stress and fear (Bruce), (National Alliance on Mental Illness). Some causes can be as circumstantial as going through a divorce, moving, job change, and losing a loved one. Others can be caused by cognitive issues such as negative thinking (“Depression in Black Americans”). I can attest to the fact treatment is available and the disorder is curable. 

MHA advises over 80 percent of Americans can be successfully treated (“Depression in Black Americans”). Many of those suffering from the disorder are encouraged to take antidepressants, mood stabilizers, and antipsychotic medicine. Paired with talk therapy (family-focused or interpersonal therapy), several have experienced mental healing and wellness, myself included. I have been taking a mood stabilizer and antidepressant for the past 10 years and will continue to take them until they are no longer needed (I pray for supernatural healing in this area). Depending on the severity, more extreme therapies, if medication has failed to assist, may be provided (Bruce). NAMI agrees alternative methods, such as faith and improved nutrition, contribute to holistic health and well being (National Alliance on Mental Illness). 

I hope sharing my own personal experiences, struggles, and victories over Clinical Depression encourages someone to consider seeking options that are applicable to their specific needs. Asking for help is not a sign of weakness. It is a sign of humility. We cannot expect to grow without killing the weeds that stifle us from doing so. This requires getting dirty, on your hands and knees, and pulling it up from the roots. I have come so far on my journey to mental wellness, and I attribute it to my faith walk, the professional counseling I received for over 4 years, and the psychiatric staff who cultivated a medical dosage that works for me. My journey to mental wellness includes sharing my experiences, learning to utilize coping mechanisms for stressful and painful situations, maintaining self-care, and setting healthy borders. Thank you for being a part of my journey. I wish you all the best! 

Works Cited

Bruce, Debra Fulghum. “Major Depression (Clinical Depression) Symptoms, Treatments, and More.” WebMD, 28 September 2022, https://www.webmd.com/depression/guide/major-depression. Accessed 1 May 2023.

“Depression in Black Americans.” Mental Health America, https://www.mhanational.org/depression-black-americans. Accessed 1 May 2023.

National Alliance on Mental Illness. “Depression.” NAMI, https://nami.org/About-Mental-Illness/Mental-Health-Conditions/Depression. Accessed 3 May 2023.