#( despite it being another antidepressant that kinda helped with that )

[hiisheart]

( i genuinely don't understand why my psychiatrist didn't just have me go back on hydroxyzine again ... esp cuz the doctor at the hospital said he'd give me it/something like it ... )

[hiroshotreplica]

also can u infodump about ur agents

hi i will but its kind of a lot. Putting a break on this cause its long

Alister's a chill but still serious guy. He used to play turf war and ranked a ton as a kid while also working as agent 3 for the new squidbeak splatoon. His parents are missing. Cuttlefish took care of him cause of that, kinda treated him like a grandson. He almost outranked callie and marie in terms of skill before he was partially sanitized. He's a bit bad at taking care of himself. The only medication he's willing to take is his antidepressants. He loves the squid sisters and has so much merch of them, mainly from his youth. He has no fashion sense and will walk out of the house in the worst outfit you've ever seen thinking he did ok. He renamed the nss to neo squidbeak splatoon when he was promoted to captain. He loves his boyfriend josh a lot, ignore the fact they tried to kill each other in their first encounter. They live together.

Zara is cheerful and seemingly confident. But she thinks of herself as a fraud and is worried about people finding that out. She's good at her job as agent 4 and more but she focuses on her mistakes a lot. She is really good at building and using computers and the like. Her laptop is enhanced by octarian technology, she has reverse-engineered it. She prefers making friends more than splatting enemies, but knows when she needs to stop being friendly. She used to have a celebrity crush on Pearl and Marina when she was young. It didn't stick but she still loves the two. She has worked with them and still does as a social media manager. She is a lot less involved in agent work than she was as a kid due to her job + being with her girlfriend but she still loves it.

Josh is really mysterious, but still very talkative and nice. He has a lot of repressed memories. He's glad he can't remember some of them. He used to be a trainee in the octarian military. The calamari inkantation changed his life. He used to be a lot more daring and reckless, but he'll never remember. He's agent 8 of the new squidbeak splatoon. Something's wrong with him, but he's okay. He has a special interest (inkling culture) that he studies a lot. He isn't the best at socializing sometimes. He's loved alister since the two were stuck in the deepsea metro. He likes wearing most clothing, except for things that are tight. He loves loose, baggy sweaters. It took him awhile to do agent work, but he's good at it. He still can't play turf war matches with pink and teal as the ink colors without feeling dread. Ink bombs scare him a little.

Orion is a bit of a loner. He was recruited as agent 7, by his own request mainly. He's an old friend of josh, though josh doesn't remember that much, and josh seems like a completely different person. He worked in the octarian military until the domes stabilized. He mainly did it for his family, who he still visits often, no matter how awful travelling conditions are. He values connections the most despite insisting on going on missions alone often. He has a bit of an ego due to his experience. It won't ever hurt him though. He wants to train the new agents, though they're hard to work with. He doesn't mind.

Violet is the most energetic of the group. They feel a lot of pressure being neo agent 3, they have a feeling captain alister did a lot as agent 3, from what they've heard. They were an orphan that learned to survive in the wilderness with their best friend, scope. They got help from another soon-to-be close friend, too, and want to repay them by secretly letting them explore alterna (that will definitely go well). They love alterna. They hate the fuzzy ooze. Theyve been partially infected by the fuzzy ooze, though this doesnt show too much. Mr. grizz considered them partially mammalian when the two first met. They hated that. They want to be a pro splatterscope player when theyre older. They love the z+f one in particular. They do aim drills with their friends. They love their friends dearly.

Scope is quite rowdy but still well meaning. He had gotten lost from his family while on a salmon run, and violet had found him. He couldn't have asked for a better friend. He doesn't know his original name, he feels bad about it, he wants to learn about his culture. He's agent 5 for the neo squidbeak splatoon. He helps out violet on missions. He was apart of a family of stingers, and strives to be one himself. He really wants to work with violet as snipers some day.

I have an agent 6 in the works, but ill talk about them later

[jaegckerman]

Some domestic!KazuFuyu

CW: Manga spoilers! References to trauma related to prison, references to OCD, implied sexual content, descriptions of depression, mentions of past character death, mentions of abuse in the last one. Also, not proofread. And kinda long.

🔹Kazutora is deceptively clean. Chifuyu is the messy one out of the two of them; he'll spill something on the counter and just... not notice, so he doesn't clean it up. Kazutora is used to being yelled at or worse if he left his spot at the lunch table in prison anything but impeccable, or when guards searched his cell and found it dirty, so he notices every speck of dust, every lone sock out of place, and has to take care of it immediately. Inupi is the same except when he's working on bikes, so he tells himself it's nothing to worry about, it's a good thing he's hygienic, right?! But it's impulsive and bordering on OCD, and at first, Chifuyu took full advantage of it until Tora got sick and couldn't clean for a few days. The apartment wasn't that bad, Chifuyu paid as much attention to the little things as he could, but Kazutora still had a near panic attack when he got up and took a look around for the first time. So, slowly but surely, Chifuyu starts pulling his own weight and even manages to get him to relax on the couch with him despite the sink full of dirty dishes, or cat hair in the bathroom rug, and he even learns not to get distracted by the dust bunnies under the couch when they ultimately get bored of whatever they're watching and roll off of it to have more room for more interesting activities.

🔹Despite his messiness, Chifuyu is the one who's more organized. He doesn't have a calendar but somehow always knows when one of them has an appointment, when one of their friends has a birthday, when they're due to get Peke J the Second (ain't no way the original one is still alive, sorry) his shots or to the vet, whenever they've reached an anniversary for an important milestone in their relationship. Kazutora's brain is like a sieve - he started putting reminders in his phone, once he figured out how to use it, but he always swipes them away and immediately forgets again. The only exception is his and Chifuyu's anniversary - he forgot the first one, but by then, Chifuyu knew him well enough not to be disappointed, which made it even worse for Tora. His stubbornness and guilt never let him forget another one.

🔹Kazutora is always cold, but he refuses to put on anything other than a baggy shirt and boxer-briefs at home, preferring to push his cold toes and hands into Chifuyu and whining for him to warm him up with his body. If Chifuyu wasn't so whipped and horny for Tora, he might have been annoyed, but he enjoys the view, the voice and the requests for him to just lie down on top of Kazutora too much for that.

🔹They're both equally creative about "finding ways to warm Kazutora up." Surprisingly, it's Chifuyu who tends towards the kinky ideas. Kazutora is equally kinky and enjoys it, but after only having hurried, meaningless, semi-public sex in prison, he also really loves taking his time and strengthening their emotional connection with vanilla sex (or, as others would call it, making love).

🔹Kazutora gets on antidepressants and into therapy after his release from prison. Chifuyu had been trying to convince him for ages, citing his own experience as transformative, quietly admitting they probably wouldn't be here if he hadn't had help dealing with the trauma of losing Baji. It made Kazutora feel even more like shit, but the counselors and court-mandated therapy in the big house were seriously lacking, so he was very reluctant at first. However, his irritation and self-hatred reached a boiling point one night and he ended up yelling at Chifuyu for 20 minutes for forgetting to buy detergent after a 10 hour shift at the pet shop - because he himself lacked the energy to do more than go to the bathroom and back to bed. That was when he finally realized he had a real problem. Chifuyu was quiet all throughout the exchange, or lack thereof; he didn't get angry or defensive, he just stood there, and when Kazutora saw the silent tear tracks making their way down his face, that was when he realized he fucked up. His biggest fear was becoming like his dad. He didn't know why his father became abusive, and he didn't care, but on his current trajectory, he was terrified he was heading there, or become even worse than him again. He immediately apologized, shocked at his own behavior, and Chifuyu, of course, forgave him - he had forgiven him for much worse, after all - but the next day, he immediately started looking for a psychiatrist and a therapist. To Kazutora, that is just another way Chifuyu literally saved him. The meds don't come without side effects, the worst of them being migraines he never used to get, but they're becoming fewer the longer he takes his medication, and Chifuyu always stays in bed with him and babies him until he feels better, so that's another plus.

[alittlepudge-neverhurtnobody]

Okay so what about david stating to gain alot of weight quickly and everyones kinda worried but he's actually just really happy and comfortable in his relationship + probably finding out hes kinda into it

(And maybe even patrick not knowing so he gets a bit worried too)

Oh I love this!! (As you may know from following me) wg as a sign of recovery/happiness/comfort is one of my favorite tropes of all time so I would love to see this for David!! either gaining weight when he starts getting comfortable with Patrick once they’ve settled the whole barbecue/olive branch debacle, or I could also see like, David waiting until after the wedding bc he has Very Specific Visions of how things should look and also probably has had pieces of that outfit picked out since his old life and where is he going to find a tailor here he can trust to let out the seams without causing irreparable damage? waiting after the wedding and then deciding that he’s not dieting anymore. after the wedding, he can eat whatever he wants, no matter what it is, no matter how much, no matter how often. he gets to eat specifically because he wants to, no more restricting or holding himself back or switching out to a healthier option. and his metabolism is slowing down, his body is settling a little more as he settles down, and so he does gain a lot of weight quickly but he also isn’t worrying about it the way he used to because he feels secure enough to let his body change without fear that his partner is going to reject him for it. 

but of course David has a history of worrying about these things and handling them Uh Pretty Badly, so when he starts plumping up, everyone starts swooping in to check on him. Johnny and Moira trying to ask after his mental health in their own awkward, less-than-helpful ways (”so, son ... you know, sometimes ... when someone isn’t talking about something that’s bothering them ... it comes out in, ah, you know ... other ways, like maybe, ah, a lot of cheeseburgers at the cafe -- I mean, at a cafe -- and, you know, it might help that person to, ah, talk about it!” / “DaViD, I do hope your emotional entanglements are not imposing a hamper on your wellBeInG, lest we reprise your cognitive doldrums of two! thousand! and! fiiiive!”), Alexis fussing over him and offering him a little bit of the high-end moisturizer she treats herself to because it’s infused with sweet orange oil and it’s, like, so good at lifting your spirits, David, like, you will feel like a whole new person with just, like, the teeniest smidge, and suggesting little trips and excursions because she thinks something is wrong and wants to perk him up, despite David not actually ... seeming down. but in the past his weight gains have always been accompanied by a lot of shame and guilt and heartbreak and he guesses he sort of quietly did all the unlearning about that and it didn’t occur to anyone else to do so, because they’re all hovering over him and making kind little offers and trying to help him when he does not need it, thank you very much!!

(cue Stevie in the background having a pleasant but more-than-vaguely threatening conversation with Patrick because if she finds out that, say, he hid something else from David, or he’s upsetting David in some way, well, is Patrick aware that there are bodies buried on the motel grounds that no one has ever found? no? interesting ... ! but Patrick’s a little worried too, because he’s heard David talk about his body in the past and his language isn’t always ... the kindest? so he’s sort of treating David with kid gloves, trying not to patronize him but also not to cause some kind of body-image meltdown. he very carefully doesn’t say anything about food or David’s steadily climbing weight or his snug clothes, but he tries to go heavy on the casual touches and affection so David can at least be secure that Patrick is here for him for whatever’s going on.)

finally Alexis says something while she and David are out browsing at some very sad little indie mall, like, seventeen towns over and the way she says it, it could be about his perceived mental anguish or his weight, and he kind of snaps back at her and tells her he’s very happy with his body, and he’s very happy period, thanks so much, squinty unamused smile, and she just looks him up and down and goes, “well, duh, David, it’s not like getting fat is a bad thing, it’s just historically been a bad thing for you,” and tosses her hair and pushes a sweater into his hands before flouncing away like this is fully how she intended this conversation to go. the sweater is a 3x and not completely awful and David doesn’t even own anything in a 3x yet but somehow she intuited that it would fit perfectly? (in the car on the way home he has Sarah McLachlan on and Alexis hasn’t said a word to complain about it yet, which means something is up, and finally she runs her fingers through the ends of her hair and goes, like there was no break in their conversation at all, “okay but like, I think we all just thought it was, like, the birthday clown thing all over again, and you were just going to go radio silent for like six months and we would all be, like, highkey worried about you even if we only seemed lowkey worried about you or, like, not worried about you at all, and then you’d come out, like, four sizes bigger and be super mean to yourself for like another six months before you lost it all, and, like, none of us want to see that happen again, David. not because of the weight. because we care about you and we don’t want you to go through that again.” she sits back hard in her seat and punches the stereo dial. “also because you’re listening to Sarah what’s-her-name with all those sad puppy commercials and, like, that does not suggest a healthy mental state, David, ugh.” David lets that sink in for a few minutes. He smiles to himself. He lets Alexis change the music.

and when he and Patrick finally talk about it, David tells him that he really doesn’t need to worry, maybe gives him the rundown on the behaviors he actually SHOULD worry about if David ever starts exhibiting (which he can fact-check with Alexis, who’s apparently been keeping the score way more than David has given her credit for). he tells Patrick that it actually feels very freeing, letting himself get bigger and not policing what he eats anymore, and he’s never really been in a situation before where he felt secure and safe enough to be comfortable exploring that, and obviously he would love if Patrick wanted to sort of ... get involved, so to speak?? and even if it isn’t Patrick’s kink the way it’s David’s, Patrick is VERY down to love on David’s body and learn to appreciate it in the Extremely Specific ways David wants it appreciated. he can’t imagine a situation where more David would ever be a bad thing, so it’s super, super exciting to learn that not only does David agree, but plans to make sure that there’s going to be a lot more of him going forward now that they’re both on the same page.

(ALSO i’m really into the idea of David having been heavy before, but by circumstance rather than decision, and now taking this opportunity to explore being fat deliberately instead!! I threw some words together about it a while back and I’m gonna put them under a cut bc it does mention unwanted wg from meds and I’m not sure if that’s a trigger for anyone!)

Trim is relative, of course. He’s gained a whopping thirty-eight pounds since moving here a few years ago, and — it’s fine, he’s made his peace with it, he just likes things to be intentional, his body included. He’d mind those thirty-eight pounds much less if he had gained them by indulging himself, by enjoying treats he had chosen specifically for pleasure, rather than by stress-eating in his motel room.

He’s been heavy before — in his early twenties, he’d tried an antidepressant that hollowed out his appetite and added sixty pounds to his frame. He hadn’t stayed on it long, because it made him sick when he drank and he wasn’t in a place to give up drinking then, or even to cut back, but the weight had lingered for a good six months before he'd managed to shave it off with party drugs and an absolutely punishing workout regimen. It’s intentional, he told people when they asked about the weight, because they did ask and it always disarmed them. And although it wasn’t true, he’d let himself think sometimes about the possibility. He kind of liked being heavy. He kind of liked taking up space. He kind of liked jiggling. It made him feel like some sort of prince, indulgent and luxurious, the picture of wealth, and he thought that maybe he could have more-than-liked it, if it had just been something he’d chosen.

[house-of-wack]

I wanted to just thank everyone who stuck around nd put up with my ass while I kept having episodes of being physically unable to communicate lmao, I'm on actual antidepressants now though I don't go to therapy yet bc I had to stop going to my old one and the next waiting list is like 2 years lmao, still living in the same abusive house because I haven't developed rhe ability to say no to my family yet so all my savings are gone lmao. It was to help pay for a funeral am just soft ig, ik ill never get any of it back so I feel like I gave up for a while. Sat in my room and painted, did my makeup alot but didn't rlly do much else including talk to ppl because yk, that's a healthy way to respond to life but I do it everytime the depression hits lmao. So sorry to everyone I've ghosted, deadass ain't you it's me.

Anyway, we back tho, working on ourselves nd putting money back into savings for the third time lmao, learning to drive so I can actually leave and still go places. Sorry for yet another apology for my dumbassery and sorry for the sorry that came with it xoxox But thank you to those of you that tried to keep in touch despite my brain being uncooperative lmao. Guess I just kinda think everyone hates me so ppl only dm me out of obligation to check on me so then I don't reply. Then I wonder why when I'm out of my funk the ppl I thought hated me and actually didn't now have do dislike me lmao.

I'm dumb, oop. Mental illness be like that yk.

[tooanxiousforrivers]

been struggling real hard since the start of the year (2021, not academic year or whatever (although let’s be real the academic year as a whole has also been pretty bad)) and this culminated in me deciding to take a leave of absence from my research as of this week. I am already struggling to honor the things I was feeling that led me to this point, so here goes a diary post

first of all, I am increasingly convinced that I was just never really trained properly for the project I ended up working on. last year, prior to COVID shutdown, I was being trained on separatory techniques for carbon nanotubes. I was starting to independently push forward on new nanotube separations when COVID hit, and I spent all of shutdown reading papers about carbon nanotubes... But then when I came back to lab I was suddenly working on organic synthesis, which utilizes precisely zero of the skills I had been developing beforehand. There were a few reasons behind the change, and I initially gave it an ok when another grad student double-checked with me that I even wanted to do this new project, but what I didn’t realize at that time was that my in-lab mentor would not be able to help me with the majority of the work (basically she knew how to make one half of the molecule I wanted to make, but not the other half). that other half of the molecule turns out to be NOTORIOUSLY difficult to work with, and the only way to make any progress on it is to just work at such large scales that even a 5% yield is “good enough.” But no one working with me had the wherewithal (or cared enough) to tell me that, so all my newcomer enthusiasm died with months of failure trying to make that molecule.

so I’m working really long days, not really making anything other than “an earnest effort,” and then in November the most senior member of the lab who is a week away from defending his dissertation fucking loses it at me and one other second-year about how we are wasting time, etc, etc. We have since moved on from that as people, but it still sort of traumatized me and left me very very uncomfortable existing in that space. ended up feeling like I was under a microscope, any second not actively spent with my hands on something was a criminal offense, not eating/taking breaks... this was obviously not very sustainable and I ended up working even fewer hours, which made showing up at all even more agonizing, as I anticipated eventual future blowout. rinse and repeat. losing sleep and not getting anything done outside of lab with the anxiety of it all.

by January, I’m seriously losing it, and finally make a meeting with my advisor to try to explain things to him. I also disclose having ADHD and pin a lot of my struggle on “working on a treatment plan.” He is sympathetic and wants to help however he can, but I can’t think of anything he can do for me, so we leave things unfinished. A week later, he sets up a meeting with me (and two other second-years, all separately) to tell us we’re not spending enough time in lab, we are going to delay our prelim exams, and we’re now going to work one-on-one with a post-doc in the lab. While it was not very cool of him to do it the way he did, I actually did feel genuine relief at the time. Like maybe I would finally be able to fill in the gaps in my technical abilities with this change

HOWEVER, working with this post-doc was... not it. The first thing he suggested to me was to stick with one synthetic target (as opposed to the three I had in total), and just keep pushing on that front until it was done. This resulted in me making intermediate, purifying it, trying the next step in the synthesis, having it fail, and having to go back and make more intermediate OVER AND OVER AGAIN for weeks. It was about this time that I started uncontrollably weeping in the lab on a daily basis. (side note: the corner of lab I work in is pretty thinly populated, so no one ever saw me cry despite weeks of this going on! hooray isolation!) oh, and let’s not forget that the second-years are all TAing this semester, which conveniently chops of my schedule beyond the point of usefulness.

last week, I suddenly felt like this just wasn’t worth it anymore. could not even recognize what “it” was that was supposed to be worth it all along. professorship is a) extremely rare, b) very arduous to attain, with possibly a decade or more of grueling research, and c) possibly not even the dream job I thought it to be, once attained. I was thinking about how my husband is a fucking lawyer and can provide for us if needed. I was thinking about how this is the only life I get to live and I can’t justify spending over a decade of it literally tormenting myself and inhaling/pouring carcinogens on myself with no real promise of substantial payoff. spent all day Friday talking things out with senior lab members (actually the same guy who screamed at me in November, he’s an odd one), as well as the director of graduate studies. I resolved to get back on nanotube work, and just try to better manage my stress by getting support from others... by Sunday when I met with my advisor again, I had convinced myself that “I have all the resources I need to succeed, I just need to utilize them.”

Monday, I met with my psychiatrist, who literally asked me why I wanted to be in grad school at all. I floundered and said something vacuous, and she kinda nodded then prescribed me Prozac. I also spent Monday and Tuesday trying to get back into nanotube work, but by midday Tuesday I was already feeling the dread creeping in... and my threshold for adversity was just nil at that point, I guess, because I literally went and found both my the senior people I was working with and just flat out told them I quit. My friend helped me pack up my desk that day, and I was out the door by 3:30. Emailed my advisor after I got home. by the end of the day, I rationalized that the “precipitating event” was realizing that I don’t want to be on antidepressants, since I’ve been down that road before, and that this is not worth that.

so, spending the last couple of days talking to others and thinking about what to do next, I still don’t have an answer. everyone’s first piece of advice was to find some masters-level industry job, but right now I still feel too close to it to even see myself doing chemistry at all, or a 9-5 at all. like, part-time tutoring is the most I can entertain in my mind right now. but I know it’s better to keep the door open, and my advisor is still SOMEHOW my #1 fan, so this is just a leave of absence for the time being. the details of that will be hammered out once I meet with the director of my program, but right now I know I’ll continue my TA work (since I hope I’ll get to still be paid) and I’ll finish the class I’m taking since my advisor told me the whole grade is just going to be some 30 minute presentation at the end of the semester, and I am pretty sure I can pull that off rather than end with a W on my transcript.

the main things for me to figure out are: (1) do I want to pull together a non-thesis master’s defense in the next month, to secure a master’s in case I decide not to return after my leave of absence? (2) do I feel that a leave of absence will make a difference at all? Will coming back to the lab after some time away resolve the problems I’ve been having, or will it all just build up all over again? and (3) do I still want a Ph.D-dependent career? What do I even want to do?

[oopsabird]

I get that ADHD post so much! Im lucky enough to have been diagnosed as a child but had to get re-diagnosed in order to get meds through school. Most places had a 2 YEAR waiting list and i got lucky with an opening but it still cost me $500+ WITH a sliding scale. it's definitely not easy to get diagnosed officially the older you get and everyone should look into their own health and see what mindfulness techniques and options they have to help themselves :)

Exactly, exactly!! This is absolutely about to set off another lengthy ramble from me.

To share a bit of my personal story, diagnosis is not the be-all end-all of treatment! I was diagnosed just at the start of heading into middle school, and honestly because we couldn’t afford to continue with long-term therapy beyond diagnosis, our run-of-the-mill family doctor probably gave my family less tools and information to cope with my disorder than you can find on some of the ADHD resource blogs on this site! I was just kinda put on meds and told I had trouble focusing, and then succeeded academically for six years through a combo of Gifted Kid Shit and pushing myself insanely hard while being filled with buried emotional turmoil and self-loathing, until I reached university and hit a brick wall HARD.

And like, even at that point, I just thought I was regular-brand depressed? The biggest thing my diagnosis did for me back then was that when I went to the school psychologist (which I could only do bc school insurance plan, covered by student loans) and said “I think I’m clinically depressed bc I can’t make myself do anything anymore”, after like 4 sessions and a review of my medical file she said “I think we should consider something: are you depressed because you have diagnosable clinical depression, or are you depressed because your ADHD is going almost completely untreated, and your meds have been the same for 4 years despite massive hormonal changes, and this is leaving you overwhelmed and barely treading water?” “Oh. OH.”

And if she hadn’t had the ADHD diagnosis on paper to reference, I don’t know if she would have reached that conclusion rather than suggesting antidepressants, so it gave me that. But it still took years after that of actually learning about how hugely multifaceted my disorder was beyond just “attention span”, and adjusting meds over and over, and going to a LOT of weekly therapy (including half a year with an ADHD specialist, which I’ll probably do more of next year if insurance coverage allows), for me to actually understand my brain, unpack all the ways I was mistreating it, and start living a mentally healthy life. There’s SO much more to it than diagnosis alone, and a lot of it you don’t necessarily even need a shrink’s stamp saying “YEP, it’s ADHD alright” to start tackling.

Another facet of my journey has been watching my own mother watch me be diagnosed with ADHD, look at the similarities between how she and I process the world, do a little reading online, join a Facebook support group for ADHD adults to learn more, and go “OH! Oh my god, I’ve been living with this my whole life and I had no idea.” Mom can’t afford to get a diagnosis, especially like you said as an older adult, but it is VERY clear and certain that she has ADHD and that it is the source of certain patterns she has noticed all her life and struggled to address or change, but can now start to understand. Aside from talking to me, online community and web resources have been huge for her (and bonding over shared ADHD experiences has been huge for our relationship as adults).

And seriously, I just think you’d have to be a real jerkwad to look at someone like her and say “Sorry, you can’t be a part of this community of people and resources that has helped you make sense of things you struggled with all your life, because they’re only for people who are Officially Diagnosed. 😤” Like, give me a break. Who is that helping?

[banashee]

Part 21 of my @badthingshappenbingo​

Square: Depression

Please mind the tags and warnings in the bottom notes

 A night like this

 On some days, Phil just stops completely.

 He’ll power through whatever he needs to, keeping himself occupied with work and little else for as long as he can but when he hits a certain point, it’s like someone took his breath away. On those days, Phil deflates entirely, unable to do anything else.

 If it is a really bad day, he might not even find the energy to get out of bed to shower or feed himself, even now that he is on a combo of medication. Those days are not as often now, but they still happen quite frequently. Especially after long or hard work days. Weeks.

 When those days happen, he calls in sick to work then and feels incredibly guilty about it.

 Agent Coulson is amongst SHIELD’s higher ranking agents, and thus an important factor in the planning of recent and upcoming missions. He takes pride at being good at his job, and it satisfies him most days, although there is also the ever present looming of “What if” in the back of his head.

 What if he messes up when his brain betrays him?

 What if someone gets hurt or dies because he’s making a mistake?

 What if a important mission is delayed or endangered when Phil is home in bed for days on end because he simply can’t force himself to get up?

 What if some day, he’ll look into the muzzle of a gun and doesn’t care if the bullet hits him?

 It’s not like he never thought about finishing the job himself.

 Phil has probably spent more years with a loaded gun, a bottle of painkillers and a bottle of vodka in the drawer of his bedside table than most people would guess.

 “This comes with the job, most people in this profession end up with PTSD and depression at some point.” some might say, and while they’re statistically right, Phil can’t remember a life without the darkness in his head.

 He is able to deal with it on his own for quite some time - but it isn’t until years later when he hits rock bottom that he realizes how bad things really are. Phil manages to reach out for help, but the gun, pills and alcohol in his drawer remain there for a long time.

 He hasn’t touched either the gun or the alcohol in almost 2 years - he considers it progress.

 *+~

 Today is one of the bad days.

 To be fair, it’s been one hell of a month, and Phil has expected the crash sooner rather than later, but he does make it home after a gruelling debrief. Here, he can finally let go of Agent Coulson and simply be Phil.

 Agent Coulson is always impeccable and calm, capable. Phil is struggling and exhausted.

 It’s only when he just locked the apartment door behind him that he realizes that he needs a refill for his prescriptions. It’s too late to go out now, and he highly doubts he’ll be able to go in the upcoming days, when he’ll have to try and get back on track as best as he can. That usually takes up all of his energy.

 Damn it.

 Phil curses under his breath. He can feel his eyes welling up with tears and fights to hold them back - he does not need this. None of it, not right now when all he wants to do is sleep.

 Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Rinse and repeat.

 He can do this.

 Except, it is late at night or very early in the morning, Phil has been on his feet for too long and his mind screams at him for a break.

 Forcing himself to keep breathing is all he can do for now, and it takes Phil half an eternity to take off his shoes and jacket. While he does so, he notices the pair of purple canvas shoes haphazardly piled into a corner and despite everything, Phil smiles.

 He won’t have to be alone after all.

 Despite being friends for many years, the romantic relationship with Clint is still fairly new. It has probably taken them much longer than it should have to get their shit together and finally get a move on after many months - some might say years - of mutual pining. But they figured it out, despite personal hang-ups and insecurities .

 What they have now is solid, real and very much the best thing that happened to either of them in a very long time.

 Occasionally, when their schedules allow for it, Phil gets the treat of coming home to find his partner already there. It always brightens his mood, at least a little bit.

 And really, when he enters the half dark bedroom, there is a lump under the blankets which Phil knows contains Clint. In the low light of the dimmed reading lamp, he can make out a bit of dirty blond hair sticking out from under the blankets. If it wasn’t the sight, the soft snore alone would tell-tale enough. And so is the dog bed in the corner, even when it is empty.

 Surprising absolutely no one, Lucky is sprawled on the end of the king size human bed, fast asleep like Clint and clearly satisfied with himself.

 Phil can’t find it in him to care. On the contrary, he is very much looking forward to spending the foreseeable future cuddling with Clint and the dog.

 Luckily, neither of them needs to be anywhere until Wednesday. Hopefully, he’ll feel a little more human by then, Phil thinks. He doesn’t want to call out of work, but he knows Nick wouldn’t say anything about it. He knows, after all.

 Phil pulls some clean clothes from his closet and enters the bathroom to take a shower.

 For one, he feels disgusting at the moment. But on the other side, he’s not sure when he’ll have the energy to do anything about it next. Clint would help him, he knows now. But still.

 The hot water feels comfortable on his sore and heavy muscles, but Phil can feel his eyes almost falling shut. He startles himself out of the trance, forcing himself to wash up. His movements are sluggish with exhaustion and hands that are starting to shake.

 By the time he steps out of the shower, Phil is dead on his feet. But when he pulls the shirt over his head, something catches his eye on the bathroom counter - it is obnoxiously pink and faintly heart shaped. Not something he usually tends to keep in his bathroom.  Phil squints at it from a distance, and then he steps closer.

 It is a giant post-it-note, cut out like a lopsided heart and a familiar scrawl on it.

 ‘Picked it up for you. ♥”

 Under the post-it note, there is a brand new bottle of Phil’s antidepressants, sitting right next to the most recent bottle of Clint’s own prescriptions.

 The gesture might be small, but it means the world to Phil. He looks at it and asks himself what he ever did to deserve someone caring like this by his side.

 He takes his second dose of the day. It’s late for it, way too late by the clock, but he figures it’s better than not taking it at all.

 Phil is careful when he crawls into bed, not wanting to wake Clint, but he stirs immediately when the bed dips down under the weight of another person and his usually sharp eyes blink open. They’re soft and sleepy now, lighting up with happiness when he realizes that Phil is here.

 “Hey, you’re home.” his voice is slightly croaky with sleep. “You okay?” he asks then, and Phil just hums without really answering.

 He lightly taps Clint on the temple, their way of asking “Are you okay?” when Clint doesn’t wear his hearing aids and it is too dark to sign. Or for when they’re simply too tired. Phil is certainly tired, and this is easier.

 “Could be worse.” Clint shrugs a little. It’s that kinda night - they are both familiar with it.

 Phil keeps one hand running over the light stubble on his cheek while they kiss. Then he allows himself to be pulled close, gracelessly flopping down on top of Clint who doesn't seem to plan on letting go of him anytime soon.

 They stay wrapped around each other, and Phil takes a few shuddering breaths.

 “Bad day?” Clint asks quietly, and Phil just nods against him. He doesn’t give a verbal answer because the hearing aids are on the bedside table. The very same one with the gun and the vodka in the drawer.

 ‘      No. Stop thinking about that    .’

 Talking also seems like a bad idea now - they might do so tomorrow, always needing to make sure the other is okay after they have spent time apart.

 Instead of an answer, Clint just hugs him closer, pressing a kiss into his dark hair as they drift off to sleep together.

 The thing is, both of them know what difficulties can come with a messed up brain chemistry and too many painful life experiences.

 Life has been unkind to both of them, on different and similar occasions. They deal with it as best as they know how - sometimes, that means they can’t cope on their own at all, and this is when love and trust come in handy.

 Having a shower or forcing down a meal is a lot easier with someone close by. Someone who understands, helps or simply is there.

 Phil is asleep within minutes, but clinging on for dear life. He barely notices Lucky shuffling over and laying down right on top of their feet, warm and alive, and Phil finds that he can finally let go for a while now.

                                 Notes:  

Warnings:

- Mental health issues - Depression - Suicidal thoughts - Coping with depression and suicidal thoughts - Discussion of medication - Alcohol, but not alcoholism

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Thirty-Eight

Table of Content or Part Thirty-Seven

Read here on wattpad

A/N: Question — what song do you think of when you think of Nikki and Viv? I'm trying to see something

Word count: 3.3k

Warning(s): Explicit language, Sexual situations, Drug abuse

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My bare feet hook underneath his thighs the second I realize he's about to  finish and he gives a crooked smirk up at me, his breathing beginning to shallow.

Nikki holds my hips still, groaning out as his cum coats the inside of me, causing me to let out a hazey moan, my mind cloudy from our rather lengthy round.

Once he's finished, I'm getting off of him and falling beside him, catching my breath as we recover is silence fore several minutes.

"Are you on birth control or something?" He asks me out of nowhere and I tense up, looking at him.

"Why're you asking?"

"I've been thinking about it since Vince and Sharise had Skylar, for some reason. I mean, I haven't used a rubber since we started dating and most of the time I don't pull out, and we've only had one pregnancy scare in the past, what, like, four years?"

"You've managed to keep track of how long we've been together?" I ask him, pretending to be shocked and he gently hits my arm with the back of his hand, and I chuckle, rolling over to face him, my lips pressing to his bicep for a moment.

I think I'm in the clear, dodging his question, but I'm not.

"I'm being serious, Viv, are you on something or...?" He asks and I lick my lips.

"Maybe my antidepressant affects fertility, I don't know." I shrug, lying through my teeth. "Drugs can cause issues on your end, too, so maybe that's another reason."

"Oh." He replies.

I avoid looking at him, sitting up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed before reaching down to grab his shirt by my feet.

You know those lies, that start simple and small, and then snowball more and more over time and explode in flames from hell that melt the snow and turn it into scalding hot water that leaves third-degree burns on the person that's being lied to? Yeah, we both had lots of those, and that was one of mine.

I

take a shower and brush my teeth, excited for my plans tonight, and as I start putting makeup up on, Nikki's getting in the shower.

"Are you and Robin going out tonight?" I ask him.

"Uh, yeah. Sparkie's coming, too." He replies and I roll my eyes.

I know they'll go out to a club and hide in the bathroom, shooting up and snorting blow a  majority of the time, only leaving to get some drinks.

"My doctor was really curious as to why I needed a refill so soon being that he gave me a month supply a week before Sparkie traded it." I comment to remind him Sparkie's a piece of shit.

"Sparkie learned his lesson, baby." He tells me in a half-chuckle and I raise my brows at myself in the mirror and turn the sink on.

"Jesus fuck, Viv!" He screams, being bombarded with ice cold water for a moment.

"Awe, I'm sorry, maybe Sparkie can sympathize with you." I reply smartly.

He's getting out of the shower, covered in suds, glaring at me, and I take off running with him chasing close behind.

"Spoiled brat!" He calls at me, the both of us naked as jaybirds.

"Trader bastard!" I say back, right before he catches me, pulling me against his wet, soapy body, his hands not skipping a moment to start tickling me.

I squeal, the both of us falling to the floor, my feet and legs kicking out of instinct.

"Don't you do it." He threatens. "Remember what happened last time."

"Not my fault you're a pussy." I reply, immediately regretting it when he starts tickling me again, this time, getting on top of me to pin me down.

He doesn't let up until I'm laughing so hard I'm in tears, and he's tired of struggling with me.

We look at each other for a minute, before he grins and kisses me.

"I gotta finish getting ready." He tells me, getting off of me and helping me up.

"Yeah, I do, too."

I decided a nice trip to Malibu would be a great thing for GN'R. I mean, go to Tansy's house there, have her invite over some of her single girl friends to mingle with the guys, stay over night so they don't have to worry about whether or not they'd be able to crash at their stripper friends' apartment and sleep on the floor that night, have a nice breakfast together the next morning, and just give Axl and Izzy time to really get to know Tansy, because they haven't hung out with her very much, while Slash, Duff and Steven see her almost more than I do.

I glance around the living room of Tansy's Malibu beach house, seeing beach bunnies all around with perfectly tanned skin, bombshell hair and perfect smiles, then look at Steven and Slash, who seem to be having a pretty good time.

They both look like they're in heaven, girls on either side of them, obviously fans of their work on the Sunset Strip back in L.A.

Izzy took a girl up to the guest bedroom long ago, while Axl's just nursing a bottle of Jack, with a beautiful brunette chattering his ear off while he's pretending not to care about what Tansy's doing as she talks to one of her girl friends across the room.

I do a mental head count, and notice my 6'4 blonde is nowhere to be seen.

Maybe he found a girl or two of his own and followed in Izzy's footsteps, taking over a spare room?

I brush it off, deciding it's none of my business and step to the kitchen to grab a Pepsi out of the fridge. 

When I pass by the doors that lead to the balcony over looking the ocean, though, I see the outline of someone sitting in the lounge chair. 

Recognizing the slender frame, I grab my soda and head outside, Duff looking over his shoulder to see who I am, before smiling at me innocently, bottle of Vodka by his foot and pack of Marlboros on one knee as a sketch pad and pen are being supported by his other.

"Hi." I say as he scoots over to make room for me. "Mr. Social Butterfly." I add, sarcastically.

"Hey." He replies, moving his Vodka over so I won't knock it down with my foot.

"I figured you be eating that up." I motion to the door, referring to the gorgeous girls inside and he chuckles a little.

"I don't know, I haven't really been feeling chicks lately." He tells me and I furrow my brows a little.

"Well, I'm sure she has some boy friends, too, if you're feeling something different." I inform him, knowing what he meant, but he laughs and shakes his head.

"Not like that, Viv." He tells me and I pull my red hair behind my shoulders to get it out of my face, before taking a sip of my drink. "I've been, uh, working on something new, kinda. The lyrics have been going off left and right in my head, I just thought I'd better get somewhere quiet and write them down before I lose them." He explains, holding up his notepad.

"Oh, I'm sorry." I feel like I've intruded, or messed up his groove, about to leave him alone to finish but he puts his hand on my knee to stop me from standing up.

"No, no, it's fine." He insists, taking his hand off of me, not thinking anything of it, despite me feeling warmth radiate from where he touched me.

I ignore it.

"I've already gotten everything I had in mind, so far." He explains. "Just a verse and chorus."

"What's the name of it?" I ask, and he scratches the back of his neck.

"I don't know if I need to tell you. I'm superstitious about this stuff, Viv." He tells me, even though he's completely full of shit.

He just wants to aggravate me.

"It's just the title, Duff. You let me hear you say 'turn around, bitch, I gotta use for you' and this can't be worse than that." I point out and he chuckles, licking his lips before looking at me.

His hand covers the lyrics, exposing the title line of the page.

"Paradise City" is scribbled in his writing and I smile when he moves his hand and let's me read  the chorus, and verse that he's gotten so far, a giant smile pulling at my lips.

"Who the hell inspired this?" I ask him, raising my brows.

"Nobody particular." He shrugs. "You like it?"

"I already love it." I tell him.

Not to compare two completely different bands who earned their names all on their own, but there are a few song parallels between Guns N' Rose's Appetite for Destruction, and Mötley Crüe's Girls, Girls, Girls albums.

Guns' Welcome to the Jungle was like Mötley's Wild Side. Paradise City was like Girls, Girls, Girls. Mr. Brownstone was like Dancing on Glass. But my favorite parallel has to be Sweet Child O Mine and You're All I Need.

I remember Nikki had given me a tape of You're All I Need after we got into a massive argument because he thought I was spending too much time with Duff. But he had practically accused me of having feelings for Duff, and even acting on them (which was pretty hypocritical being that he'd been screwing Vanity since 1986 at that point.)

A few weeks later, Nikki convinced me to come down to the studio so he could personally give me a copy of a song he had written me, and me--being excited--decided I wanted the guys to hear it, too.

I went to the Franklin Plaza where Steven, Duff, Slash, Izzy and Axl were hanging out, discussing a meeting they'd had with their label.

When I told them Nikki wrote a love song about me (thinking it was his way of trying to patch up our marriage and say to the world "I love this woman") the guys had to hear it, not believing me.

The ballad started beautifully, tears coming to my eyes, but my warmed heart quickly began boiling in my chest by the time the second chorus ended.

"I don't think this is a love song." Izzy stated, while shaking his head a little.

"Yeah, uh...he's talking about killing you." Axl had told me, everyone seemed slightly disturbed.

"Your girlfriends get Sweet Child O Mine and what does the dedicated wife that has done nothing but love this sick bastard get?! A song dedicated to his deep desire to murder me!"

"Dude, hasn't he actually tried to kill you before?" Steven asked.

Which made the song even more ironic, along with the last line of the chorus, "and I loved you but you didn't love me" which in itself was slap in the fucking face.

I didn't hear the full song at that time because Duff had took it out of the player and stomped it under his cowboy boot.

That pretty much set the tone for the months to come.

"You're also incredibly biased." He replies in the same tone and I nudge him with my elbow.

"You don't know how many songs I have actually had to tear out of Nikki's hand and hide them from him because they were so bad I just could not allow them to be recorded." I tell him.

"Oh, please." He brushes me off.

"Have you heard 'Theater of Pain'?" I ask him with raised brows.

"Yeah."

"Home Sweet Home and Smokin' in the Boy's Room were the only really good ones. And Smokin' in the Boy's Room was a cover. The other songs were songs I didn't know were written, or I would have hid them from him, too." I state and he tries not to laugh, but fails, making himself snort, which kickstarts my laughter. 

Once we settle down, he clears his throat, and gets a kind of serious expression on his face.

"I really wish he wasn't on that shit, Viv." He tells me and I don't even have to ask who he's talking about. "I mean, I'm not judging him or whatever because Izzy and Slash are in on that stuff, too, but...I just hate to see he's on it, because it's kinda hard to manage it once you hit a certain point, ya know?" He asks and I nod a little. "I think he's a pretty cool guy...so it sucks to see him act like that."

"It's not that bad, right now." I tell him, completely in denial. "He's still Nikki, he just does stuff he's not suppose to. That's nothing new to me."

"I'm just a little worried, is all." He admits.

"There's no need to be." I reassure him. "He's got a handle on things."

Dear God did I eat those words a week later in Dallas, Texas.

It's like watching a fucking car accident. 

Except instead of a car, it's my husband, and instead of a car accident, it's him losing his ever loving mind, crouched on the hotel room desk, as he babbles on, making absolutely no sense as he shouts at his parents who aren't even present.

I just came back from the pool, got a shower, and came in to him doing this.

"Nikki!" I try to get him out of whatever drug-induced show he's on.

"I'm not me! I'm not Nikki! I'm someone else!" He insists, hands yanking at his hair, his eyes completely taken over by an entirely different beast. 

I panic, immediately calling Fred.

"The fuck is wrong?!" He asks when I open the door, hearing Nikki's screaming and carrying on and I try to keep the absolute fear that's locking up my system from showing.

"I-I don't know. I got in from the pool and he was kinda jittery but I thought he'd done some blow, but then he started screaming when I was in the shower and now he's--"

Fred gets tired of hearing Nikki's meaningless shrieks at people who aren't in the room with us, and snatches him off the desk.

Nikki hits the floor, and a switch is flipped, sending him into strong convulsions, opting thick, white foam to pour from his mouth.

"Fuck, Sixx!" Fred lets out, turning him on his side. "Get me a roll of toilet-paper." He barks at me and I do as I'm told, saying a very colorful, silent prayer in my head. 

He tries to get Nikki to bite down on it to keep him from biting his tongue, but Nikki can't do it. screaming instead.

When I think I can't take the confused, scared, out-of-character shrill, it's like God himself knocks Nikki out, leaving Fred and I in complete silence, riddled with what just happened.

Fred checks his pulse and sighs in relief, looking at me.

"Viv, are you alright?" He asks me, taking deep breaths.

"Y-yeah." I say, nodding, even though I know it's written all over my face that I can't be further from "alright."

"Vivian--"

"I just need a second." I tell him, standing up to go to the bathroom, disguising oncoming tears in a strong, steady voice that's physically uncomfortable to push past the lump in my throat.

I lock myself inside the bathroom and turn the water back on, gripping the counter before I find myself in the floor, quiet sobs rocking through me.

I just want my Nikki back...not this tainted demon nesting himself in Nikki's skin, festering his bullshit in Nikki's mind.

By the time I'm worn down from crying, and tired from lying on the bathroom floor, I pull myself up and open the bathroom door, stepping into the room.

I guess Fred put Nikki in the bed before he left, because Nikki's still passed out, just tucked in the covers. 

I get pajamas on, scared to even touch him because I don't want him to start seizing again.

Cautiously getting closer to him, nestling my forehead against his arm, I thank God for the feeling of his pulse under my finger tips in the crook of his arm, and find myself passing out with utter exhaustion.

The next morning, Nikki's really quiet.

I'm not sure if he remembers what happened last night, but I'm not asking him. 

After finding a needle and evidence of an 8-ball of coke, he can lick my twat if he thinks I'm talking to him anytime soon. 

The video shoot for Home Sweet Home is happening today, and a limo picks Nikki and I up at the hotel, driving us to the venue, neither of us acknowledging the other. 

Once we get there, someone's dressing Nikki like a damn toddler, because he's too fucked from last night to dress himself in his done up stage costume.

Nikki was so, so, so, obviously, utterly fucked up when they filmed the music video for Home Sweet Home. 

The entire time, he was chugging Jack to try to calm himself down from a high he later described felt like, "being on acid and speed at the same time" and with the way he was acting like he couldn't see a damn thing, I believe it. 

He kept sunglasses on a majority of the time so people couldn't see how his eye were practically doing cartwheels. 

"Viv, we're about to start, where's Nikki?" His bass tech asks me and I glance around, furrowing my brows a little.

"I haven't seen in him about an hour. He went over there by the stage...at least I think he did." I tell him, stepping over to the last place I saw him. "He was here and..." I trail off, hearing Nikki having a full blown conversation, his voice coming from underneath the stage.

The two of us sit and listen for a moment, realizing Nikki's just talking, taking long pauses, then answering a question that was never asked by anybody, not even himself.

"Who is he talking to?" His tech asks me under his breath so Nikki won't hear.

I roll my jaw, getting fed up.

"Probably the fucking demon he sees and befriends every time he gets high." I state, fully believing that at this point, there is indeed a demon following him around, breathing down his neck, stripping him of his control and cheering him on with each grain of coke, bottle of Jack, cc of heroin and prescription-grade pill.

"Nikki," His tech starts. "Who're you talking to?"

"I'm talking. Leave me alone." Nikki argues.

"Nikki." I state, looking at him. 

It's the first time he's heard my voice all day.

"There's nobody there, baby. C'mon." I motion my hand for him to get out from under the stage.

"Leave me alone!" He snaps at me, nearly hissing.

"Dude, calm down, you're freaking out." His tech tells him. 

"Nikki, get your ass out from under there or so help me God, I will come in and drag you out by your dick." I promise him. 

He puffs up like a pissed off rooster and stomps out, passing by us, grumbling under his breath.

Do you wanna know what was really fucked up about that time? Vince couldn't have a beer without someone losing their mind. He was supposed to be sober. Nikki would bust Vince's balls if he even saw him looking at a bottle...but then Nikki would load anything and everything into his body, simultaneously.

Vince quickly became the odd man out, and had been ever since that night with Razzle. There was this vibe, this tension, that Vince was only kept in the band at that time, because they were getting hotter and hotter, and each member was the ticket to reach their full potential as a band. Each member was important.

Without Tommy, there was no band. Without Mick, there was no band. Without Nikki, there was no band.

And without Vince, there was no band...that was the one that really didn't sit too well with Sikki.

[dykecadence]

hey so i had bad experiences with a friend and attack on titan, but im interested in starting to watch anime and have no idea where to start. ik we tend to have similar tastes when it comes to other interests and music so i figured id ask what some of your anime recs are?

ooooh anon thank you for giving me license to talk about anime! i'm sorry you had a bad experience with attack on titan (its a bad anime tho so no harm there)

i always recommend fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood as a starter point for people trying to get into anime! its the first one i ever watched, its extremely good, and the plot is constantly moving its a big fave of mine!

in terms of other recs cowboy bebop is another good one to start with, its got less of an overarching plot but its still good

hunter x hunter is probably my favorite anime?? i love it a lot and highly recommend (watch the 2011 version tho thats my fave) its really long though so i dont suggest it as like a first foray into anime because 148 episodes is a big commitment

other slightly weirder suggestions include: revolutionary girl utena (which has some heavy themes so be sure to check content warnings theres a comprehensive list i can link you to), mob psycho 100 (which is very good but the art style turns some people off), and haikyuu (which despite being about sports that i have no real life interest in has provided me more serotonin this year than my antidepressants did)

this got kinda longwinded even though i was trying to restrain myself but i hope this helps!

[noblechaton]

okay so this is a post I’ve wanted to make for a lil while now but I’ve been kinda....not huge on talking about what’s been going on with me health-wise bc it’s been so stressful (and writing all of this on mobile would suck lol) but anyway I feel like explaining why I haven’t been writing or even really posting too much

also a lil warning here but it gets a bit gross due to what’s going on lately so uh be careful near the end of this if ur squeamish (like me) and also this is very long bc it sorta recounts the last 6-7 months so it might be a bit messy looking

alright so. on october 28th after getting poor, fragmented amounts of sleep and having nothing to eat besides fast food bc it’s all my family got (mcdonalds in the morning and chinese food for dinner) I had this awful scary pain in my chest (upper left side, at that) and it worried me real bad but I pushed thru for a few days bc i thought maybe it’d clear itself up and stuff

but it didn’t and so after maybe a week or so with it I told my parents and we first went to my aunt’s urgent care place for an EKG (which was normal) but we were soon set up for a doctor’s appointment (my first in like....at least 5 years. probs more tbh) and he examined me but wasn’t able to figure anything out so he set up some further tests at a cardiologist and those came and went (an echocardiogram and a stress test along with some more EKGs) and all of them went well so we still had no idea what the issue is/was but I was put on a lot of medications to try and see if anything helped (plus I got put on antidepressants which was nice for a bit but they caused problems physically so I’ve stopped taking them)

by like mid febuary I think?? (and after totally reorganizing my diet for a few months to include healthier stuff and exercise) the issue started to fade and for a minute I thought it’d worked itself out

but then like two weeks before march started my wrists and ankles started hurting bad enough to cause my hands and feet to twitch and shake which terrified me but I didn’t say anything (mostly bc my family, namely my mom, is/was getting fed up with my medical stuff and I didn’t wanna make her more mad lol) however it stopped a lil before march really started

but then my head started pounding nonstop and it hurt super bad for 5 weeks (urgent care did nothing bc like. they just can’t do anything for that) and near the end of it I went and got an MRI done which came back good, just like the cardio stuff did earlier (tho it pointed out a minor sinus infection which I think is what caused/causes it??)

then near the end of march (and after taking appropriate OTC stuff for sinus infections) it sorta lessened and has since eased up despite some flare ups here and there which might be caused by....whatever’s going on now, which brings me to....

two or so days before the MRI I ended up vomiting up some food which was weird bc I don’t really vomit and then it happened the next day too and I got worried but at first I thought it was food poisoning since my diet had kinda shifted back to bad habits due to the head pains but then the day of the MRI and the day or two after that the puking stopped only to then started back up again

now something I realized after a while was that I wasn’t like actually puking like normal puke but instead it looked like it was just my food (not to be too gross but I could/can see actual pieces of food as they would have looked in my mouth sometimes) which led me to (sort of) figuring out that what I’ve been doing is actually regurgitating for some reason (everything from typical food finely chewed to apples to certain drinks like apple juice and even water sometimes to straight up mucus that runs down my throat/gets sniffled) and my throat has felt weird, like knotted up?? tight?? or something even tho I’ve only had minor difficulties swallowing sometimes (a lot of the pain/issue comes when I speak I think)

so that’s where I’m at now. for w/e reason I can’t get anything besides water and crackers down consistently (and even then those still come up sometimes) and I’ve been looking for solutions myself or to at least figure out what it is since I sort of need to be able to eat more than just once every few days (tho I seem to keep toast down which is nice)

mostly I’ve been leaning towards GERD since there’s no real/overt pains, I’ve had acid reflux all my life as far as I can remember, and it ties in with the upper chest pain and headaches but then I wasn’t doing this for the last ~7 months, this regurgitating thing only just started, so I’m not entirely convinced tho idk what else it could be (the doc I spoke to today mentioned a hernia thingy?? which is what I leaned for at first when it was just chest aches and looking at symptoms now it does kinda fit still but also it doesn’t?? so idk) 

and this entire time I’ve been scared out of my mind bc of various reasons (from not knowing what’s going on to what my body’s actually been doing to my own family members kinda not helping to put it very lightly lol) and that’s kinda why my writing drive has been next to nonexistent and I haven’t been posting all that often (and part of why I haven’t seen the ML finale - I don’t need that kinda feeling rn lmao)

now tho the plan is to get an endoscopy at the hospital sometime soon I think (I’m waiting for a scheduling phone call rn) while taking prilosec (which....isn’t really working tbh) and I’m just kinda trying to hang in there and not freak out too badly but it’s been hard lol

hopefully we can set this thing up today and get it done asap so I can maybe start being myself again sooner rather than later assuming I even can but yea!! I appreciate the patience and kindness that’s been offered to me over the last few months especially since y’all didn’t even know I was going thru anything lmao

also!! real quick!! another (maybe not as major) reason as to why writing’s slowed so much is bc I sorta ran out of room in my room and started stacking stuff on my computer and typing out full fledged fics on my lil ipod (yes, ipod, not phone) is uh really hard!! but I managed to clean some stuff up in between all of this and once I get better I’ll be doing more cleaning in my room to try and have my computer back full time

[viscerallywilbur]

Daniel appreciation post

I have a little rat bastard named Daniel Kelly Hammond and everyone hates him but he's a good man.

This daft motherfucker is hated by just about everyone in the story but I love and appreciate him, and here's why:

He had no idea Jackson and Sean were finally together when he and Sean hooked up.

He deeply regretted banging a taken man and tried dozens of time to apologize only to be shut down.

He works ridiculously hard to keep himself in college, paying all he's remaining fees himself because he only got a partial scholarship.

He does everything he can to not be a burden on his aunts because he knows they didn't have to take him in.

He feels bad for his mother rather than hating her despite her abusive tendencies that had eventually led to his own father's death.

He tries ridiculously hard to stay positive despite his shitty situation, but still acknowledges his own mental health and need to go to therapy and take his antidepressants.

•He's not the bad guy!!!

Something to consider next time you read about Jackson being a bitch.

Also an excerpt from later on in the book:

    He went to bed knowing he had plenty to think over now, and as his eyes fluttered shut wondered what the future had in store for him. He drifted off, and then woke up somewhere entirely new.

Jackson was beyond confused to see that he had woken up in a dark, snowy environment he had no recognition of. From what he could see, he was resting in a chair on the back end of an old fishing boat. Out front, a dim yellow light shone off into the distance illuminating the falling snow ahead. He got up and made his way forward, noticing only then the moving shadow of a person drifting across the snowy background. When he turned the corner he was in complete disbelief seeing who it was.

“Daniel?” He gasped.

The figure turned to look at him and clearly couldn’t believe his eyes either.

“Clarke? How the hell did you manage to get all the way out here?” Daniel flared.

“I honestly have no idea. How are you here?”

“I don’t know either to tell the truth, but last I checked I was on this boat alone.”

If he were honest, Jackson was pretty disappointed seeing just how upset Daniel was seeing him. He’d realized what an asshole he’d been to Daniel a long time ago, and he’d really thought this would be his chance to finally make amends with him. He also, however, completely understood why Daniel wouldn’t want to.

“Fine,” He said. “I’ll take the loss. I guess I’ll just go wait back where I woke up and maybe I’ll end up home again.”

Without another word, Jackson turned right back around and did just what he said he would. He didn’t take into consideration just how cold it was as he sat and waited, before long he was curled up and shivering. He listened to the waves as he waited, thinking about what could’ve turned Daniel since he’d last seen him. Jackson thought he’d finally come around since he didn’t kill him, but then again, maybe he just didn’t want that blood on his hands.

“I guess I can’t really blame him though, can I?” He muttered to himself.

Boy was he right about that. He couldn’t help but think back to all of the times he’d treated Daniel like shit since they’d met. If he were to put them all together he’d have an entire weeks worth of video footage. The worst part was that he often didn’t even realize what he was doing. It just kept happening that he was so caught up in his own shit that…

“Hey.” He heard from behind him.

… That he didn’t even realize what was happening around him. Jackson turned to see Daniel behind him, who tossed him a thick jacket.

“It’s pretty cold out man, I’m pretty sure we're somewhere in the Arctic.” Daniel huffed, not looking Jackson in the eye.

Jackson muttered thanks in return, wasting no time before putting it on. Daniel lead him into the sheltered part of the boat where a space heater was kept so he could warm up, but the icy silence between them started to prove to be the real issue.

“Daniel...” Jackson tried breaking the silence, not quite knowing how.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Daniel chose for him.

“Oh yeah. That one just seems to be a given with me I guess.” Jackson let out a pained laugh.

Again he was left with nothing but a glimpse of a cold glare from Daniel, then a chilled silence.

“I’m sorry about all that you know.” Jackson reached out.

“And you should be.” Daniel retorted, leaving him hanging.

“Look, Daniel, I know I treated you like absolute garbage, but honestly I finally realized it was me who’s been the asshole. Hell, all the shit I was mad at you over wasn’t even your damn fault.” He paused a moment. “Shit, if anything, I'm the bad guy here.”

“Yea, you kinda are.” Daniel retorted, seeming to retreat again after a second. “It’s just… Well, Sean’s been there for me our whole damn lives, then suddenly he grows a ‘conscience’ and up and leaves? All ‘cause of what anyway? Some foreign twink he met like a month ago?” He finally stopped himself, looking away.

“Did you just call me a twink?”

“That’s beside the point!”

It took them a second, but they both couldn’t help laughing at that.

“But anyway,” Daniel continued. “It was just kinda bullshit man, I was pretty much left stranded there.”

“I can get that.” They stayed quiet again for a moment. “Damn, even I’d be pretty pissed with my dumbass if I’d have known that. Shit, I am. Of course my stupid twink self had to go and latch on to the first asshole who’d look my way. I guess I just really missed my childhood ‘friend.’ Then again, that bitch turned out to be some murderous psychopath anyway.”

“You’ve got some pretty shit taste in guys, huh?” Daniel joked.

“Boy, are you right about that!” Jackson laughed. “What’s that say about you then?”

“Whaddya mean by that?”

“Sean and Tobias? Same shit choices as me man.”

“Oh yeah right, I’m not gay dude.”

“Hold up, what?” Jackson stopped. “You’ve literally only ever been interested in guys as far as I’ve seen. Shit, you’ve definitely fucked at least two.”

Daniel froze up at this.

“Wh- I- That-” He seemed to be getting flustered. “Shit, I’m gay aren’t I?”

“You really need me to tell you that?”

“Well, I just- I’ve never really thought about it before. Definitely never admitted it before.” Daniel submitted.

“Really? How?”

“I don’t know, my mom’s just really against gays so I never even considered it in the first place.”

“Oh, wow.” Jackson was  . “Daniel, I am so sorry…”

“Don’t be man, that one’s not your fault.”

“Still, that’s gotta be pretty damn rough. I don’t know how I could live without my mom’s support. She’s got my  it comes to just about everything.”

“Must be nice. But hey, it’s not like it’s much of an issue anymore. I’d been living with my aunts since I was like fifteen.”

“Aunts? So like-”

“Yea! Man, they’re great. It’s really cool actually having an example of a normal healthy relationship in my life. Guess the psychological damage on me was already done though.”

“That’s actually incredible man! I guess it’s too bad I’ll never actually get to meet them though, they sound great.” Jackson gushed.

“Maybe you could if you ever get off this boat, let me write their address down for you.”

Jackson couldn’t help grinning at how happy Daniel looked writing it out for him on little notecard. He honestly couldn’t even remember a time when Daniel seemed happy to be around him in the first place. Daniel handed him the address and sat back in his chair.

“Man, it actually feels pretty damn nice to admit it. Now that I think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever had a connection with a chick beyond being friends.” Daniel laughed. “So what’s that mean now? Am I like… out of the closet or whatever it was?”

“Yea, I guess so.” Jackson smiled at him.

They sat quietly for a short while looking out at the snow.

“You know what?” Daniel interrupted the quiet. “I’m sorry too Jackson, for not seeing that Sean was the problem that whole damn time.”

“He had good intentions, but that fucker sure made a mess of things, huh?”

“You got that right.” He laughed. “I’ll be honest, I hope we get to see each other again Jackson, I get the feeling you’ll be out of here much quicker than I will.”

“Me too Daniel, me too.”

With that, despite having just woken up Jackson's eyelids grew heavy again, returning him to his cell with sunlight streaming in onto his eyes.

In conclusion, Daniel deserves love too.

[emptysighs66x]

I worry that sometimes the people around me don't realize how mentally ill I am. Like, Kevin and I have been together 5 years, but he hasn't seen me off my meds until this past year. He saw me dealing with my unstable bipolar when we first met, then stable bipolar about a year after we moved into our house, but I don't think he realized how bad off I was going to get while off my meds, but if I want kids, I can't be on my meds according to my psychiatrist and my gynocolgist because the stuff I was taking was pretty potent.

But I have so many diagnoses that it's unreal and most of them are hereditary/side effects from a rough life led.

It started with the depression and anxiety at 14, added on insomnia at 15, bipolar at 16, PTSD at 20. Then there's the side effects that come from all these illnesses, my worst being my depressive episodes, my episodes of disassociation and feeling like I'm not real and everything around me isn't real, and my occasional spells of excessive paranoia. Then there's also the side effect that I developed after I stopped my meds which is a tic that causes me to jerk my neck, roll my eyes, and make a very high pitched, "Woo." My psych says it's likelihood cause is my brain chemicals being wonky from started my antidepressants so young. He says it may stop when I restart my meds, but I won't know until then. Another recent issue is if someone is speaking to me in person, everything they say sounds garbled even though they're speaking plain English and that's really stressing me out because I've noticed it also effecting the way I write. Like I suddenly don't understand anything that I'm saying.

Like, this job I have now, I work alone throughout the day and I felt off before I left the house and I told Kevin that I felt off. It's been super slow and since I don't have anything to do, it's making me disassociate. I've tried my grounding techniques that my therapist taught me and nothing is helping. I texted Kevin and he told me to take off my shoes and put my feet flat on the floor, but that's never worked for me when it comes to grounding myself because in my head, this life isn't real and I'm just a puppet, my body isn't my body, I don't recognize who I am when I look in a mirror, kinda bullshit.

I've thankfully never been hospitalized despite probably needing to be multiple times and it's hard to explain what goes on in my head to people to a point they understand. A lot of the time, it always feels like I'm fighting for control of my own actions as in I don't always have the motivation to do things that I need to do, or be "present" because I'm too busy off in some lala land that I don't remember (in those times it's like the lights are on, but nobody is home).

I'm just over it. I'm tired of being mentally ill honestly because it's exhausting and the more I talk to my psych or a doctor about it, the more that they add another diagnosis to my list as if I'm collecting every toy in a Happy Meal.

I guess that's enough of my rant. Hopefully it's coherent. Thank God I only have a couple hours left at work and I can go home, eat and edible so I can forget about my problems, and enjoy two fucking days off.

Fuck.

[phandomsecretvalentines]

(darling don't be afraid) i will love you

Happy late-vday-early-bday @ryn-exe (can’t tag?)!!! Hope u enjoy, soz if it’s not good but i’m not so amazing(phil)

This is 2.1k words. There’s a bit of dream-violence (not in detail) and a lot of anxiety and fear so if u don’t like that stuff!! Tell me!!!! And i’ll write something else for you, i don’t mind. (You didn’t say anything i wasn’t supposed to write but idk). I’d describe this as hurt/comfort i think lmaooo

Basic summery i wrote fo myself: Dan and Phil, and how they deal with each other’s 3am fears (2009 vs 2018, now)

From a pitch-hitter 💓💓

——

[Saturday; 10.26.09; 03:37]

——

Dan<33 (03:37): phil? :[

Phil (03:45): Yrha

Phil (03:47): Sorry!! Yeah**

Phil (03:47): Why are you up so early/late?? I barely woke up

Dan<33 (03:49): sorry i woke you :/

Dan<33 (03:50): my parents went away for a bit and i’m home alone and i cant turn off the lights cuz im too scared

Dan<33 (03:51): and i can’t sleep so bad even hugging pillow cant help mee :[[

Dan<33 (03:52): so im sitting in the hallway with every light im the house on alone in just my pants

Dan<33 (03:52): and i was a idiot and missed you so i woke you up at so late and now ur gonna hate me crap

Dan<33 (03:52): sorry

Phil (03:53): I’ll never ever hate you dan!!! <<33333333333333

Phil (03:53): I’m sorry ur so scared :[[ I wish I was there to be strong and protect u again

Dan<33 (03:54): i wish you were here too

Phil (03:54): :[ <3

Dan<33 (03:58): CDAP PHIL I THINK I HESRF A GHOST

Dan<33 (03:58): IR MONSTER

Dan<33 (03:58): FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

Phil (03:59): Dan oh my gosh are you okay??

Dan<33 (04:00): yeah i think but

Dan<33 (04:00): i heard something phil

Dan<33 (04:01): im scared

Dan<33 (04:02): i can’t believe im 18 and i’m actually sobbing out of fear alone and naked in a hallway over a fucking noise

Dan<33 (04:02): to my boyfriend

Dan<33 (04:02): on skype

Dan<33 (04:03): fuck

Phil (04:03): Dan :[[ i’m so sorry

Dan<33 (04:04): it’s not your fault

Phil (04:04): Want me to call you??? (If u want)

Dan<33 (04:05): can we skype instead?

Dan<33 (04:05): i want to see your face plz <3

Dan<33 (04:05): if thats okay

Phil (04:06): That’s fine! One sec plz :]

——

[Phil would like to add Dan<33 to a call (02:33)]

[Accept] [Decline]

[Accepted]

——

When Dan answered the call, his face was red and puffed and wet. Even through the crap-pixel screen quality, Phil could see that.

“Hey,” Dan’s voice broke.

“Hi,”

Dan was shaking slightly.

His face suddenly flushed, “Oh shit, I forgot – I’m, uh, in only pants. In front of you. Crap.”

“It’s fine, I’ve seen you shirtless before.” Phil smiled what he hoped was reassuringly, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah — I mean, I am now. I guess.”

“Are you cold?”

“Kinda.” Dan admitted.

“Want to go to bed?”

“My room is too dark –”

“Well, I’ll be there, wont I? And I’ll protect you from everything bad in the dark.”

“You’re not really here.”

“Only ever a few hours away. And if worst comes to worst, I have the police line and the monster-killer line. So you’ll be super safe.”

Dan muffled a giggle, “Yeah, okay.”

He shuffled up off the floor, and made his way into his bedroom, clutching the laptop tightly.

“I dunno if I’m getting any sleep tonight, honestly.”

“You will! You can cuddle your pillow and I’ll tell you stories until the demons go away and you can sleep.”

“I’m not five, Phil.” There was no malice in his reply.

“You don’t need to be five for any of that to be true.” Phil said, serious tone.

“Okay,”

Minutes later, Dan was snuggled under his covers; hugging a pillow tightly as he listened to Phil go on about some guy at the market.

“Then, he pulled a hot dog out of his left pocket. Who keeps a single —”

“Phil?” Dan interrupted, his voice was dripping with sleep.

“Mm?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“No.” Phil answered simply.

“I mean – for being so scared of such dumb stuff. Seven-year-olds are braver than me.”

“It’s okay to have fears, Dan. I bet you’re not the only adult with those fears either,”

“I’m scared of the dark. And ghosts and monsters and moths and demons and –”

“– and that’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“And it’s not annoying to deal with? I’m not?”

“You will never be annoying to ‘deal with’; I promise.”

Phil meant it.

——

[Monday; 12.07.09; 02:59]

——

Phil :]]]<333333 (02:59): Dan?

Dan (03:00): yeah??? <3

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:03): I’m scared

Dan (03:04): of what :[[

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:04): I dunno it’s just creaky downstairs and I’m alone for the night I guess

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:04): Nvm

Dan (03:05): no tell me i want to help u

Dan (03:05): plz

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:07): Well it’s just that

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:08): It’s really dark and windy

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:08): And there was a tree snapping against my window I thought our house might’ve blown down

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:09): And I thought i heard thunder which usually isn'tn too bad but right now its scaring me a bit

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:10): I don’t wanna be alone rn is all

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:10): But i am brave! So it’ll be okay i think

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:10): Don’t worry about me <33

Dan (03:11): i want to worry :[

Dan (03:11): you don’t always have to be brave <333 ily and i would give you the biggest hug if i were there

Dan (03:12): and tell the trees and thnder to fuck off and let you sleep

Dan (03:12): and then we would sleep all cuddled up togerher like we do sometimes and it would be warm and nice

Dan (03:14): i wish i were there with you

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:15): You will be someday so it’s okay now too :]

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:15): But plz tell the trees and thunder to fuck off it’s very loud :’[[[

Dan (03:16): if u call me i will????

Phil :]]]<333333 (03:17): Lol okay :p

——

[Incoming call from Dan]

[Accepted]

——

“Hi!” Dan really should be quieter; last time he called Phil at three in the morning his dad had yelled at him.

“Hi,” Phil’s sleep-laced voice answered.

A booming crack of thunder, and a whimper.

“Don’t worry – it… won’t hurt you.” Despite everything, Dan was sometimes still quite new to the role of 'comfort’ in their relationship.

“I know, just loud.”

Dan wished he was like Phil. He wished he could just pull out an intresting story, a funny idea.

“Sorry.”

He wasn’t like Phil, though.

“Want to play a game?”

“What game could we possibly play through a phone call?” Dan could practically hear Phil rolling his eyes.

Dan wracked his brain for quick ideas.

“Eye-Spy?”

“We’re… not in the same room Dan.”

“Yeah, true.”

Dan’s room suddenly felt rather empty and uninteresting.

Dan felt empty and uninteresting.

“What do you want me to do?” He finally muttered.

He held his breath.

“I just like hearing your voice, it calms me down. I like when you rant about things you love.”

Let it out.

“Oh. Well – want to hear my never-ending thoughts on WALL-E then?”

“Definitely.”

——

[Sunday; 02.04.18; 04:12]

——

“Phil?”

“Mhm?” He rolled over and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “What’re you doing up?”

“There was a moth.”

“A moth?”

“Yes!” Dan looked around the room nervously, rolling on his heels, “It’s in the lounge somewhere and I can’t sleep knowing it’s out there — lurking.”

Phil groaned.

“Fucking kill it! Or set it free, I dunno. I just need it gone.”

“You are truly the perfect mix of 'needy child’ and 'angry businessman’, Danny.”

“Fuck off.”

“Mm, lemme get a cup then.”

Phil shoved on his glasses and stumbled out of bed into the kitchen, Dan following closely behind.

“Where was it again?” He asked, grabbing a wine glass from the cupboard.

They hadn’t really drank much alcohol these past few years– since Dan had gone on antidepressents— but they still always kept the glasses, to drink Ribena and seem fancy.

“No! You’ll need a bigger cup, it’s huge.” He whined.

“Okay,” he grabbed another glass, “where is it?”

��In the lounge last I saw.”

“I’ll go look, you get a piece of paper.”

Genuine terror painted over Dan’s face, “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Christ’s sake Dan, it’s a moth, not an armed burglar. I think you’ll live.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. Now, just go a minute.”

He then ventured into the lounge, still half-drowned by sleep, when he heard a shriek.

“Dan?”

“Phil! Fucking help!”

Anyone else might’ve thought Dan was being held at gunpoint from the panicked way he was yelling.

“Coming!”

He went into the hall; Dan was standing there, paralysed with fear, as a giant moth flew circles around him. He had tears threatening to fall.

“Oh dear,”

Phil went over to the closet and grabbed a broom, spent a few go’s waving it around– and almost hitting Dan in the process— before smacking it head on.

“Aw, now I feel bad for killing it,” He whispered.

Dan was on the floor now, shaking, tears stained down his cheeks. He was in only pants.

And Phil was there.

“Well, the moth’s gone now isn’t it?” He crouched down next to Dan, putting his hands gently on his shoulders.

“Mmm,” Dan had his head tucked in his knees.

“Are you okay?”

Silence.

“That’s fine. Want me to make you some tea?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

A few minutes later, in the kitchen, with dried cheeks; “I can’t believe how much of a wimp I am.”

The kettle rang, and Phil took it off the stove carefully.

“No —”

“I know, I know, my therapist told me. 'It’s never weak to have fears’. But I cried over a fucking moth. In our hallway. It’s late and –”

“– and that’s okay.”

“It’s not okay Phil!”

“It’s fine in the moment, that’s what I mean.”

He grabbed a NASA mug, and poured the boiling water in a teapot.

“I must be exhausting.”

Phil dropped in a teabag.

He still remembered. It was a promise made at 4am; a promise over Skype to a more-than-slightly-terrified eighteen year old.

A promise made to a bunch of pixel’s with a name and a face and fear.

A promise his Dan probably didn’t even remember, honestly.

“No, I promised that much.”

“Mhm,”

He poured the tea.

“So, two sugars or three?”

“Two.”

——

[Friday; 02.16.18; 05:12]

——

Dan was on the sofa; snuggled up in blankets and watching the winter Olympics through his small Iphone screen. His eyes were heavy, he yawned.

Their bedroom door squeaked opened.

“Hey,” Phil spoke quietly.

“Up so late?”

“You’re up too.”

“Well — I’m watching the Olympics. You know it’s on late in the UK.”

“Alright.” Phil shuffled into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and leaving the cupboard door wide open.

“Why are you awake?”

“Just another nightmare, s'fine.”

“Then why did you come out here?”

His voice might’ve been read as upset – he was just tired. Half the time Dan honestly didn’t mean to come off so rude.

“Dunno,”

“What was it about?”

“Uh — I think my family was trapped, you included, and I was the only person who could save them. But I had to do something… I think, I had to open a lock to somewhere? But I was too nervous. I saw everyone die; I knew it was my fault. I saw – you know, blood. Not too much. But it’s fine.”

As he spoke, he went over to the sink and got a glass of water, adding iced-cubes; his tone was unnaturally cool and casual.

“But I heard your skull shatter –”

“What the fuck —”

“Sorry! You asked though.”

“No – I mean, that’s horrible. Jesus christ, are you okay?”

Phil shrugged, “It happens, it’s okay though. Just a dream.”

It was only at that moment Dan noticed Phil’s eyes were a little too redded, his words a little bit shaky.

Phil started back to their room.

“Are you going back to sleep?”

“Probably.” His reply was tired.

“Oh – uh, well, why don’t you stay with me and watch the Olympics? I know you’ve never really cared, not your thing, but still I think that —”

“Sure! I’ll stay, yeah.” Phil quickly answered.

“Okay.”

Phil put his glass of water back down on the counter, and walked over to the sofa. Dan opened up his blanket fort and invited Phil in.

“These are the men’s single runs.”

“Mhm,” Phil nuzzled his head into Dan’s neck, which usually would’ve bothered him, but he didn’t mind so much.

A few minutes pass, “So what’s that guy supposed to be doing? I need your commentary; you know.”

I just like hearing your voice, it calms me down.

“Well, that’s the Japanese lead skater, which means —”

[firedingo]

A Depressed Rant

So I’m not sure this is a blog so much as it is a rant but hey if you’d like to read it, I’d appreciate that.

So the last month has been kinda nuts. My uncle got so sick he had to go to hospital, he’s ok and out now but he was sick enough he could have died. For the time that he was in hospital, we looked after his 9 month old puppy. You can imagine how that went.

About 10 days later, my sister and her husband went on holidays for a few days maybe a week. I didn’t exactly count the days. While they were gone, we also looked after their dog.

So at one point we had my uncle’s dog, my sister and brother-in-law’s dog as well as our dog. So three dogs. That was kinda nuts.

The after they went home I got sick. Stupid flu or something in Summer no less -_-

So that took like 10 days for me to get better. Mainly for me to stop endlessly coughing. It was something like 3 weeks of insanity. During that time, I was suppose to start a new antidepressant. To say that was the last thing on my mind was an understatement.

Thankfully I was able to get some extra time on my medical certificate exemption from my mutual obligations which will allow me adjustment time.

At this point, I’m at day 2 of having started. It’s a 20mg dose of Lovan which is fairly low and my first 2 doses I broke the tablet in two and took them separately. I’ll take the full tablet for my third dose. Not really expecting much. I’ve had Lovan before.

That said, I can’t decide if it’s just bad timing or if the Lovan is the cause but I’ve felt extra crap today. I feel like a walking emotionally numb zombie. I feel like I don’t care about anything and I feel like I’m disengaged from life.

I’ve also had thoughts of self-harm. Namely my brain....or perhaps the depression tried to convince me earlier that picking up some scissors in my hand and stabbing myself through the leg would be a good idea.

I think it was more the depression saying that since I know my own brain fairly well. It tries to convince me that fast food makes logical sense, it hasn’t tried to convince me to hurt myself before to the best of my knowledge.

Normally my bad days go from ok to feeling crap, have a good cry and feel like I’m the worst person in the world before I go to numb and then back to ok. Then rinse and repeat. Because I cycle like that I learn to push through to the not so shit times and to run with the good times to get stuff done. Yet today doesn’t feel like a regular bad day which is why I can’t help but wonder if the Lovan has anything to do with it.

I don’t feel good, I know this and what’s worse is I know I have the energy and motivation to act on some of my bad thoughts if I’m not careful.

I can barely focus. I just feel like what’s the point? I don’t care. It’s like a switch flicked in my brain overnight and now nothing has value or meaning for me. Not even life itself.

What future do I have? I have no education higher than year 12, I have barely any work experience, the only references I have are still from school, 8 years ago. I can’t hold a job down. I know within weeks of starting I would crack from the additional pressure.

My health isn’t ideal, my dental health is almost akin to an apocalypse. I can’t afford to get my own place, family stress me out worse than you could know. There is also history between my family and me that is not good.

The impression I get from the government is complete and utter contempt and hate. 1) because I’m unemployed, 2) because I’m poor and 3) because I’d like to be a game developer. Thanks to this Liberal/National Party Government, their ideology tells them all 3 groups are detestable along with disabled, old people, public service workers, refugees, asylum seekers, families, others on welfare and just about anyone who isn’t a rich person or a corporation it seems.

I hardly eat, partly because I don’t feel like it but partly because I can barely afford it sometimes. I rarely eat meat because of its cost.

I’m not even sure a lot of this makes sense. That’s another thing, on bad days, I struggle to form proper sentences or more likely I’ll only form half a sentence and then I’ll begin speaking or typing it only to have to stop because the other half was never formed. On a good day, if I form half a sentence, by the time I get to the end of that half, I will have formed the other half so it will come out as once complete sentence but on bad days I really struggle to form proper sentences. I suppose considering this is typed that I’d be able to edit it as I’m going so you may not see the mistakes because I fixed them.

My family doesn’t accept my depression. It ranges from you’re an embarrassment to us/you can get over it - to - depression doesn’t exist. As a result I don’t tell my family anything. Unfortunately, my family are also nurses which means they work at the local hospital.

As a result of that, I can’t really go to the hospital because my sister might be working on triage at the emergency room. Showing up with no physical issues and having to explain I’m having self-harm/suicidal thoughts is hardly going to go over well. On top of that, the last time I went to a hospital, the nurse just told me I was attention seeking and to get over it. She also labelled me as manipulative.

To have that said about you only makes you question why should you even bother if they’re not going to take you seriously. For the most part, I don’t hold back. I don’t see the point. My family has always been the notable exception to the rule.

After trying 5 different antidepressants(4 at least haven’t worked. Never really got to give the 5th a proper go), speaking to multiple psychologists and psychiatrists, having being hospitalized multiple times and having tried to commit suicide twice and STILL being depressed for over a decade. I’m starting to wonder whether I will be like this for the rest of my life.

I don’t want to be but I feel like nothing has helped, nothing has ever given me any help. The closest I’ve managed to get to “help” was sleeping. I feel like no one takes anything I say seriously except when I say I’m having thoughts of self-harm or suicide. I say how bad I feel and all I get is a referral to a doctor or a script for another medication.

How many times do you repeat the cycle until you just give up from failure? I’ve mentioned countless times to countless people about my sleep issues but no one considers it serious. It just gets lumped as a side effect of depression despite the fact I had sleep issues before I was depressed.

At what point do you just stop mentioning things? At what point do you just stop asking for help? I can’t help but think it would be better if I just checked out of life, out of reality and just vanished from society. I’ve thought about that before.

Well it’s 8.05pm now so I guess at some point int he next few hours I’ll pass out and sleep. That’s at least something of a mercy to look forward to. I can only pray tomorrow is better.

I wasn’t raised with any religion or anything so pretty much everything in the bible is new to me. Coming at it from a logical, non-religious perspective I’ve found fascinating. It started as a quest to try and find hope again. Just it became a bit more than just finding hope.

As a result, one of the first books I read was Ecclesiastes. I found the author, probably King Solomon relate-able. Especially when he talks about things being meaningless because that’s how I feel. I understand he found a way to see life as not meaningless by the end. I wish I knew how. I’d be willing to try anything to have some hope again. To have a spark of light when I am my most depressed. To have an anchor to life when I want to kill myself.

I don’t think I have anything else I want to rant about. If I do, depending on whether it’s big or small, I might just appended it here, do a short tweet thread or start a whole new post. But anyway I guess I’m done here.

[satireknight]

TMNT S02E13 - Return of the Technodrome

It’s been a whole season - not a long one, but a season - since the Technodrome went sailing into Dimension X, and Shredder had to spend several episodes trying desperately to impress Krang into helping him.

So whatcha say that giant white ball cause more trouble?

It’s a slow day at Channel 6, which basically means that there hasn’t been a world-threatening crisis in the past six hours, and Burne Thompson is probably threatening to fire everything in the building, including his potted plant. You know, the staff at this building must have pure Valium running through their veins, or they’d constantly be on the verge of nervous collapse.

Burne demands that April go out and “make” news, whatever that means. Should she somehow produce a natural disaster? Commit a crime?

Irma reeeeeaaally wants to see the Turtles again, implicitly because they’re male and didn’t run at the sight of her. April tries to brush her off despite Irma having actually collaborated with them in the last episode. “Irma, the Turtles are NOT the most exciting thing in my life!” Yes, they are. 

Meanwhile, Splinter is going off on a retreat, and Donatello is wearing pink for some reason.

April pops in to ask if there’s anything interesting happening that she can exploit, and she’s so desperate that she even asks if Splinter leaving is something newsworthy.

Meanwhile, Krang has finally had enough of Shredder’s screwups, and is preparing to invade Earth. Wait, why does he want to invade Earth? I thought his priority at the end of last season was to conquer Dimension X, and it was SHREDDER who wanted to conquer Earth. Did Krang already do that, and now he wants a fresh challenge?

He sends Shredder a gadget intended to direct Niagara Falls’ energy towards opening a dimensional portal. And despite whining for one more chance to kill the Turtles a few minutes ago, Shredder is now ecstatic about the Technodrome’s return.

Shredder, Bebop and Rocksteady all arrive at the power station, and the portal starts opening in the sky.

Meanwhile, the Turtles say goodbye to Master Splinter for the next few days, and it’s hard not to notice something odd about Donatello.

Yep, for most of this episode he doesn’t have his wristbands on. No reason is ever given, and it’s more consistent than just an occasional animation error; it’s almost all the time. So we should just assume that he’s shamelessly flaunting his naked wrists at us.

But just as they’re about to head home, two things happen: April calls, and Leonardo gains fifty pounds in his gut.

They immediately deduce that the massive power outage in New York is actually the work of Shredder... which really doesn’t take much effort, since he is the main villain of the series. 

The Technodrome is rapidly charging up, and Krang decides to be uncharacteristically nice and send Shredder some Foot Soldiers and Rock Soldiers. Did someone slip him some antidepressants?

Meanwhile, Donatello apparently hacks into Shredder’s communicator at long-distance with one little knob. If you need proof of technical genius, this is it. Also, no wristbands.

And despite saying he can’t make out the transmission, he manages to hear EVERYTHING they say. They charge out of there on the Turtle Blimp, and Leonardo argues that they shouldn’t disturb Splinter because he’s been training them for this sort of crisis. True, but considering the importance of what’s going on, methinks he wouldn’t mind THAT much.

And it’s all moot anyway, as Splinter senses the whole mess and sets out to investigate.

And since the Turtles use the stealthiest of means to sneak in - a blimp with their name on it - Bebop spots them and shoots down the glider. 

They land right near the falls and are about to go over when Donatello uses a remote control function to lower the blimp towards them.

They manage to grab the one rope dangling from it, and be deposited on the shore. Bebop and the Foot Soldiers are completely missing from the shore now, which is a little weird. But that’s so Splinter can pop out of nowhere and greet them, and point out the giant glowy portal in mid-air.

Donatello comes up with a plan to cut off the power from the river/falls, and April’s idea for distracting the rock/Foot soldiers is... the sexy lady gambit. I’m not even kidding.

Even they look baffled by the idea. Donatello and Michelangelo attack and almost get squelched, but April manages to distract the easily redirected enemies. Again. For the second time in a minute.

Meanwhile, Leonardo and Raphael take on Rocksteady and yet more Foot/Rock Soldiers,

And this is Leonardo in full “you’re my bitch now” mode. Rocksteady throws him off and charges at the two Turtles, only to get a faceful of insta-sleep-stuff from Splinter.

And a layering issue too.

Donatello somehow manages to shut down the entire river... don’t ask me how... which cuts off the power to the portal. Krang has to compensate with extra power from his end, and the Technodrome heads right through towards Earth.

Krang immediately deploys more soldiers and vehicles to attack and surround the Turtles, who don’t have the faintest idea what they can do to save themselves.

Krang decides he wants to shoot the Turtles himself, using the Technodrome’s weaponry, and aims a giant laser at them... only for it to putter out without firing. While Krang swears that this has never happened before and he definitely doesn’t need pills, it turns out that he’s drained the Technodrome to the point where the weapons don’t work.

Also, that army there a few minutes ago? Gone now.

As they’re chased down by Bebop and Co, Leonardo (or Donatello, it’s hard to tell when the voices get switched) summons the blimp yet again.

And remember how earlier Bebop was able to bring down the glider with one shot? Now he and the Foot Soldiers can’t shoot the ENTIRE BLIMP with multiple shots.

“They’ve escaped again! Oh, this is getting VERY monotonous!” Shredder really calmed down fast there. Krang sucks in more of that sweet hydroelectric power, and reveals that he’s planning to create seismic events that will lead to New York being evacuated, then taking over it when everyone is gone and using it as a base of operations to conquer everything else.

He broadcasts a message commanding everyone to leave the city, and threatens a stronger quake that will level every building. As the Turtles rush out, Splinter says portentously, “And so begins the final battle.” Oh, you wish, Splinter. This show has six more seasons of battling these guys, plus a vacation side-season.

The Turtles track down the Technodrome once again, and we get an idea of just how huge it is.

Donatello blasts a hole in the Technodrome’s armor (after another I-swear-this-has-never-happened-before moment) and they head inside. Donatello is focused on stopping the earthquakes, but Splinter is busy having a Jedi moment.

Shredder also senses Splinter, and the two of them head off to fight. 

Donatello finds the control center and starts rewiring everything in it, while the other Turtles have to fight Rocksteady, Bebop and a bunch of Foot Soldiers.

“Hamato Yoshi is no longer. There is only Splinter.” I love consistent characterization. That wasn’t sarcasm; I love this moment. 

Back in the control room, the lights go out and there’s a bunch of fighting in the dark, and Donatello isn’t entirely sure he managed to fix the problem. Of course, he should have had plenty of time based on what happened to their foes.

Why did they tie up the Foot Soldiers? They’re robots. Just smash ‘em.

The city hasn’t been evacuated, so Krang tries to set off another earthquake. All that happens is that a giant laser blasts the bridge that Splinter and Shredder are standing on... 

... which forces Splinter to crawl up the platform vertically, and leaves Shredder hanging by his cape. That is the worst place for a laser EVER.

The Turtles have just escaped from the Technodrome when they realize that Splinter is still inside... how do they keep forgetting that?... just as their master comes springing out.

It turns out that Donatello’s rewiring has led to the Technodrome sinking right through the Earth’s crust, and Krang has no way to actually stop it.

I’m pretty sure landing in lava would melt it, but who cares? Krang is busy screaming that this is all Shredder’s fault (though I’m not sure how) as they float downstream on the magma.

VERDICT:

This is a nice solid episode with a heavy emphasis on action. It basically does what its title promises, returning the Technodrome while focusing on the Turtles’ efforts to stop it from conquering the Earth. So there’s a good failure/success balance for the Turtles here, with them encountering obstacles along the way that they aren’t entirely successful in dealing with - they don’t stop the Technodrome’s return, but they do manage to keep it from conquering the world.

So it’s a good episode for lots of fighting, lots of confrontations with Rocksteady and Bebop (who are actually pretty intimidating here), and Donatello doing techie stuff. I felt a little let down by the lack of a real fight between Splinter and Shredder at the end, but I guess there wasn’t really time for that.

It also establishes the new status quo for the series. After Shredder being on his own and the Technodrome and Krang being safely off in another dimension, now it’s immobilized down in the depths of the Earth, and Shredder has Krang in the same general area... you know, despite Krang not being very happy with him, but what else is new? From now on, these two are a package deal, wherever the Technodrome happens to be located (and it’s going to get complicated). 

One thing that was a little distracting was the animation flubs. I only touched on those, but certain scenes made the Turtles look either tubby or kinda childish. I’m still not sure why Donatello’s frequently-missing wristbands are an issue too, since this is rarely an issue in other episodes. Let’s just assume he accidentally splashed tomato sauce on them, and they’re in the wash.

Grade: B+