#I wish I could pay for therapy so I could get meds to fix my brain 😭

[unfortunatelyevent]

people with adhd (or neurodivergent in general tbh) who ever wrote grad papers, how tf did yall do it

[pocket-size-cthulhu]

Good morning.

Some scientists believe ADHD is caused by the brain processing dopamine inefficiently.

The brain requires chemical homeostasis and if you're processing less dopamine than you need, you are perpetually doing things to help stimulate dopamine production, whether that's impulsiveness, speaking out of turn, making jokes at inappropriate times, picking fights, fidgeting, zoning out, etc.

Worse, when you're asked to do something that's unpleasant and won't allow you to do something rewarding at the same time, like paying a bill or doing math homework, your brain riots because it NEEDS the dopamine and this is actively preventing you from getting what you need. Until you're down to the wire and adrenaline floods your brain, allowing you to Do The Thing on that momentum alone, you're stuck.

You don't get to choose to ignore your brain's need for chemical homeostasis; you have to treat it or work around it somehow.

Stimulant medications address the brain's immediate need for happy chemicals. This is why stimulants calm ADHD people down. Suddenly the brain is no longer screaming for dopamine, and you are actually enabled to do the things, including the boring or difficult things, that you've been wanting to do all along. This is also why caffeine puts a lot of ADHD people to sleep. The brain, finally having what it needs, is calm.

i get why people are scared of stimulant medications but like, when you have ADHD and you're properly dosed, it's not addictive. Because your brain chemistry is different. You're not getting a high, you're actually calming down, for once in your entire life.

It's not like ADHD meds don't come with side effects and downsides. If i could function without them, I'd prefer to, because the side effects are a bummer. I also don't like feeling like i rely on a crutch, especially when shortages, politics, misinformation and ableism make the future of access to them so uncertain; but i feel similarly about my glasses. Kinda wish i didn't need em. You know?

But even with all that said, meds have been a miracle for me. Over the last couple years, my self-confidence has grown. The feeling of fear and failure that's hung over me literally my entire life is lifting, because I'm finding i consistently have the capacity to meet people's expectations and do what's most important. I'm less anxious about unpleasant tasks, because i can be confident in my ability to do them before they pile up. I'm able to be present more often, at work and in the rest of my life. I can show up for my friends. I'm no longer constantly scared that others will Find Out that I'm Faking It, because yeah, I'm a hot mess, but i can get crap done when i need to now usually. I'm actually making significant progress towards goals I've had for years and never been able to start on. I'm discovering that with some strategy, i can have some consistent habits. I'm having more compassion with myself and cutting myself some slack when i do fall short.

Meds haven't fixed everything for me; progress has come slowly with a combination of meds, therapy, getting older, and settling down in life. And i still struggle a lot, with things like keeping my space clean and consistently doing tasks that i don't like or that cause me sensory issues etc. I still struggle with a LOT of shame around my ADHD, every day when i step over that pile of laundry or try to remember where i left my phone. But I'm not constantly scared I'm about to be fired anymore. I'm not ending the workday exhausted from anxiety and spinning my wheels after a long day of under-performing. I'm not so plagued by the feeling that I'm letting everyone down or that I'll never be able to achieve my goals. Compared to a few years ago, i am so happy, calm and confident--i wouldn't have recognized current me.

Meds are a miracle. Thanks for coming to my ted talk

[bluekazzoo]

tw: EDs, body image, just the entire medical system for mental health being fucked, breif suicidal mention, medication

I could go on such a long fuckin rant about how adhd and other disorders are treated by the medical system. never mind im gonna go on a rant I have WORDS.

for one in countries such as Norway there are actually benifits to getting diagnosed, like money for lost items, discounts on pools and other physical activity sites and many others that go beyond just having more time for tests. don't get me wrong its great and I completely agree with it. despite how much I hate that "physical activity fixes adhd" bullshit it can help and having that accessible isn't a want its a need for many in order to function, making people pay for stuff they need is fundamentally wrong.

the problem comes when the diagnosis's take years (in my experience) to be confirmed and overall are harder to get. for example when I was 7ish my school pshychologist ran a ton of tests on me over months and concluded I almost certainly had dyslexia. despite this they refused to diagnose me until I was 11 because I was "so young". so for the majority of the time I spent in grade school I could have had extra help learning how to read and say what you will about "excuses" it would have been harder for teachers to reprimand me for a learning disability they didn't know I had or didn't care about because it wasn't in paper until I was 11.

and then there's the whole thing with meds, Jesus fucking christ do I have beef with the system for meds. so, pretty much my entire family has diagnosed adhd now but growing up I had the clearest symptoms was the first to get diagnosed, hence causing the rest of my family to put two and two together and get tested themselves. I was also the first to be put on medication for adhd. it was fucking hell, I tried about five different meds and because I was a child (around 8) the doctors kept giving me new meds no matter how much I hated it.

they only listened to my protests once I developed an ED at 11 in part due to the meds I was on. at this point a lot of my family was also on meds and they were all doing great. at the worst point I count get out of bed in the morning because of malnourishment and it took them a while to let me go off the meds despite declining weight. then they concluded it was because of body image despite me denying it and having been skinny my entire life. yes, I hated the way I looked but only when I was so skinny that the first thing people would say was "are your parents feeding you enough?" or "I wish you would take some of my fat, you look like you need it". instead of, oh I don't know, therapy that I was asking for? they prescribed me protein shakes that I hated even more than the meds.

anyways im not gonna go into the whole ptsd and suicidal shit but the way they handled that was somehow an even more of a catastrophic train wreak than any of my other horror stories from the medical system. oh god and then there's the shit from when I was five, ohhh boy.

much later I got diagnosed with ocd, and Ive forgotten the source but apparently it gets worse with adhd meds. I have been showing symptoms since first fucking grade and they didnt test me, instead putting me on meds that actively worsened my mental health.

the kicker is that while I was over here figuratively getting meds shoved down my throat other kids with adhd were being deprived of meds that could have changed their life. I was made to feel that not being on meds was an inconvenience to anyone around me.

moral of the story is that

a) LISTEN TO THE PERSON WHOS TAKING THE MEDS, I don't give a shit if they are a child, listen to them when it comes to how they are being treated. especially when its not life threatening. its their body, its their mind, its their choice.

b) a lot of childrens practitioners are idiots

c) don't underestimate or ignore what someone is going through, no matter their age

d) the diagnosis system is fucked

disclamer: this isn't a research essay its my account of things that happened to me, I don't have a phd on this, but I do have a first hand experience and a fuckton of trauma from it

...ngl, the fact that ADD and ADHD got condensed into ADHD when the hyperactivity specifically is part of the reason so many girls were simply not diagnosed drives me up the wall.

It's not that the whole name isn't bullshit, because it is. It describes the way people outside of our experience perceive us, as opposed to the difficulties that are part of our lived experience. Even from an outside standpoint, it's recognizable that "deficit" is not always the issue with our attention... but that's beside the point.

When psychiatrists noticed that ADD and ADHD were basically the same thing... they chose to favor the typical male presentation in the literal naming of the condition, and in doing so condemned a generation of girls (and other afab people) to suffer through being told they're so smart, they just don't apply themselves enough, that it's a personal failing they can't regularly turn in homework, that they're lazy for waiting until the last minute to work on an assignment... because those girls weren't hyperactive. Those girls just kind of drifted off and daydreamed in classes. Those girls doodled or wrote stories all through their school years, and functioned measurably worse when a teacher noticed they were doing that and tried to stop them. Those girls are now so many of my adult friends who are now being diagnosed with ADHD as adults, because the hyperactive part of the diagnosis almost solely applies to children (CHILDREN, when, I might note, this is a lifelong condition) who are socialized male.

We need a whole other name for the condition, because attention deficit is not our problem at all. But my god, the hyperactivity part actually ruined my life for so many years, because I had no way to explain to my dad why it physically hurt me to be bored, why I had to read or write or doodle in class in order to keep my focus, why I excelled in tests but failed at homework so my grades sucked because of that. No one even considered I might have ADHD, all through my childhood, but earlier this year I had the opportunity to go through all my grade school reports, and they could not be MORE CLEARLY talking about a child with ADHD. "Pleasure to have in class", "assignments not complete", "does not pay attention in class", "Birdie is a highly intelligent child with specific and unique needs" (I would LOVE more follow-up on that one, from third grade, do not have it). But I was a quiet and reserved child, so obviously I couldn't have ADHD.

I'm legitimately angry about it in retrospect. I went off my Adderall for a couple months recently, as an adult who only started taking Adderall as an adult, and it completely fucked up my ability to function. For years I was just out there as a teenager struggling through high school and college entirely unmedicated because as a child I was too withdrawn to be diagnosed. Fucking wild and also infuriating.

[dragonmuse]

Could you tell us more about your running? Why you do it, what it means to you, and if you want, your typical mileage/paces?

I can! It's a long explanation, sorry. You may all have noticed I don't do concise really.

Content warning: health and weight talk to follow (no specific numbers mentioned)

I am not a natural athlete to start with and I much prefer curling up on my couch then working out much of the time. Periodically over the last decade or so, I have re-resolved myself and managed to make it a few months before falling off again.

Then the pandemic happened. And my blood pressure, never awesome, started to soar. I was working full time as was my husband and we had a kid at home, so like for so many of us, it was pretty stressful and my relationship with food went totally toxic. On the plus side though, I was working out my gender identity, was back in therapy for the first time since my teens and got over a seventeen year paralyzing fear of the dentist to finally get my teeth fixed.

I arrived in February this year the largest I've ever been and probably the most mentally healthy I'd been in a decade. I don't mind being fat, I've been some level of fat my entire adult life. So none of this was in the goal to become less fat, I want to be amply clear on that. It's a byproduct, but not the goal.

The goal was twofold, to build a better relationship with food and to get my blood pressure down as much as I can naturally. I will go on meds if required, but would love to put it off if I can. My doctor thinks this is possible, so I'm operating under her guidance (plus some common sense, someone save us all from doctors who think fast, extreme weight loss is a good thing).

So I bought the cheapest pair of running shoes that still looked like they'd hold up and set out. I started with a couch to five k program and on completion just kept going.

Why running?

I can just step outside my front door and do it. I live in a quiet neighborhood and that's where I do all my running. Just me and whatever other suburban dweller is out getting in their morning air.

I hate gyms. I don't want to go to a class or be taught how to use a machine. Working out already makes me feel vulnerable, I do not wish to interface with anyone else.

I have, against all odds, come to enjoy doing it. This didn't happen the last two times I tried this and I think it was because of the treadmill. This year I have run through rain, freezing and melting temperatures and I have no regrets. I really prefer being outside and there is something exhilarating about taking your frail human meat sack out into the elements and saying 'ha! I am capable of running down a sprinting prey animal out of sheer endurance, not that I would, but you know the theory is sound'.

I can totally disassociate at a certain point. A lot of exercise requires you to be very present. As long as I'm paying enough attention not to get hit by a car or fall over, I can think about what the hell Izzy or Eddy or someone else is up to and daydream my way through working out. It's awesome and has made many words flow.

So what does it mean to me? It means trying to stay on this fucked up planet as long as I can for my kid. Yes, I like feeling healthy for myself blah blah blah, but I brought my kid into the world and I'll be damned if I'm leaving him a parent short for even a minute longer than I have to. This is survival, baby. I ain't eating this much fucking salad because it's fun.

And...okay yeah, it means that I'm proud of myself every time I do it. Every time I get up and move this shambling mortal shell and make it do things it couldn't do even a few months ago is pretty cool, I guess.

As far as mileage and pace, I am so fucking slow, but I am getting faster! Mileage is also building up. I run two to three times on a weekday at about 15:45 a mile for two and a half miles. On Saturdays when I have more time, I go for three and a half miles and last time I got to 15:09 a mile which was frankly miraculous. In March I was lucky to get under 17 minutes for two miles, so I'm pretty pleased with that progress.

Right now, I'm trying to build endurance and speed very slowly. I don't really have time to go for a long run more than once a week, but my next goal is to hit four miles on a Saturday and maybe get a 14 minute mile going.

Also, no one asked, but I listened to an 80s cardio station on pandora for the first few months and that's where most of the titles for the stories came from. Recently switched to the larger mix of a running channel to change things up.

[gravedangerahead]

Vent post, I don't even know what to tag this for content warnings. I just can't stand doctors anymore I can't do this I hate this

First there's no more digital appointments because apparently the pandemic is over and I'm the only one who didn't notice, so I had to go all the way there to see that asshole in person and stay in a waiting room with a bunch of people

The psychiatrists available through my health insurance keep changing and there are less and less of them, so I went to a neurologist, and he said he only prescribes adhd meds to children because adults understand they have to control themselves and slow down their minds. He recommended meditation and when I said I already do meditate there was no part 2 to his brilliant plan to just fix my mind myself.

He did end up giving me a prescription for my adhd meds just this once, I was actually surprised, but not not the antidepressants, so I'm gonna try to see a psychiatrist again.

I once had a psychologist tell me to "just focus" before I got my diagnosis. I could have killed her. That's brilliant, why didn't I think of that. I do know I should focus, and I also knew I shouldn't have suicidal thoughts and for some reason just knowing that didn't make me better. The meds helped. The adhd meds helped me focus, and the antidepressants helped stop constantly wishing I was dead.

I know that medication shouldn't be the be all end all, and that you have to put in the work and develop healthy coping mechanisms and all that. And I do my best to do all that and no doctor has helped me with that AT ALL. At most I got some vague suggestions that I meditate with not even any recommendations on how to start and maybe got told to exercise.

I did all the research for techniques to help by myself, listening to other people who deal with the same things, even though I worry a lot about getting misinformation, but it's not like there's anyone else to help me.

I think I should probably go to therapy again and that could he helpful, but therapist I went to for the longest, mentioned above, pretended to respect my sexual orientation only to start trying to cure my asexuality months later (well, she was probably doing it the whole time, but I was an idiot and I trusted her), she didn't "believe in diagnosis" or labels in general I guess. After I was diagnosed and started taking my meds she wanted to help me so I "wouldn't need them anymore, and could stop taking them" even though she had a fucking year to treat me before I started taking them and her best attempt to help me was to tell me to just "go there and focus".

After that, whenever I try to start therapy again on the very first appointment they ask me about my romantic life, and when I say I'm not dating anyone they tell me "that's important" so I just panic and don't show up again.

I actually think I improved a lot recently, and it definitely started with the meds, but I also got fired, and that sucked, but I think not working there anymore helped a lot. But I have much less work now and that's not sustainable, I'm not getting enough money and my parents are wasting their money on a 25 year old when they don't even have their retirement all set

I'm gonna move to a different state soon,but I don't know exactly when because there's a bunch bureaucratic bullshit to figure out, so I don't know when I need to get an appointment there instead of here, when I should be setting them up well in advance because it's been hard, and how I'll even get a doctor there since my insurance is for my state only

I can't even complain to anyone about it because the doctors' opinions will just confirm the idea that yes I shouldn't psychiatric meds, I should just live healthier and yes my asexuality is a problem that should be treated because there's something wrong with me, and I'm so tired, I'm so angry

Just give me my prescription and I'll figure myself out. No, I don't particularly wish psychiatrists would actually pay attention and ask questions and try to research things to help me any more, just give my prescription and let me go. Just don't make me prove that I actually have ADHD and that I'm not just trying to score meds every time I have to get a new psychiatrist AGAIN

[semperama]

Verbs: 4, Pinto!

I apologize, this got a little too long, and I probably should have posted it to AO3 instead, but I’m too lazy to think of a title and all that jazz right now. So hopefully it isn’t too much of a pain to read here!

pinto, convalesce

"So how many 'break a leg' jokes have you heard in the past few days?" Zach asks as he follows Chris into the house, close on his heels in case he trips. He wanted to rent a wheelchair to bring Chris home in, but of course Chris wouldn't hear of it. He always seems to think he has something to prove, even when sporting a cast that extends from foot to thigh and a bulky boot to go with it.

"I lost count," Chris says, leaning for a moment against the wall in the foyer and looking over his shoulder at Zach. "But you know what? I didn't mind it."

"You do love a corny joke." Zach drops Chris's duffel on the floor, then goes to his side, hands hovering in the air as he tries to decide how best to help. "Not sure what that says about your sense of humor. Alright. Too bed now, right?"

"The couch?" Chris says, turning wide, pleading eyes Zach's direction. "I've been laying in bed for days. I don't want to shut myself away in the bedroom until I have to."

Zach purses his lips, but he can't think of a good reason to refuse him. "Fine," he says, "but you aren't going to go hobbling around the house every time you want something. Once you're on the couch, your ass is staying on the couch."

Chris doesn't argue now, but Zach guesses there will be arguments later. And really, it's not like Zach blames him. He can imagine how frustrating it must be to have your mobility limited, to need someone else to take care of you. Chris has always been independent. He doesn't like relying on others--not for anything. Even as Zach leads him to the couch and helps him prop up his leg on a stack of pillows, he wonders how much Chris is bristling at him, how much he wishes Zach would just go away.

Still, Zach has to ask, "What can I get you?"

Chris sighs. "Water, I guess. And hand me the remotes? They're over there next to the TV."

Zach knows where the remotes are. He knows where everything in this house is, and he knew it long before he moved in two months ago. But Chris is still adjusting--they both are--and this whole mess with his leg has only thrown a wrench in things, so Zach lets this one slide and goes to retrieve the remotes.

On the way back from the kitchen with Chris's water, he digs two prescription bottles out of the duffel. Painkillers and antibiotics, both of which need to be taken on a regular schedule. One more thing for Zach to keep track of, and one more thing for Chris to potentially resent him for. Maybe it would be easier if he set alarms on Chris's phone, so he isn't bugging Chris himself, but even that feels like it might be too invasive.

"Here," he says as he sets the water down close enough for Chris to reach it. "And here are your meds. You're about due for more oxy now, if you want."

Chris waves him away absently, his eyes fixed on the TV screen as he flips through the channels. "That stuff makes me feel awful. The doctor said I could switch to ibuprofen whenever."

Zach sighs. Chris has three pins in his leg, but trust him to try to play the tough guy now. Who doesn't want to take the good shit when they have it? But he bites his tongue. "Do you want ibuprofen now then?"

"Nah, I'm good. I'll wait until dinner."

Nodding, Zach looks from Chris to the TV to Chris again. What is he supposed to do now? How is he supposed to help? "I guess I'll go start a load of laundry then. Mind if I get your clothes out of the bag?"

Chris looks at him then, eyebrows pinching together. "You don't have to do that. I can wash them later."

"Chris." Zach throws up his hands. "How are you going to do that, huh?"

"Right." The troughs in his forehead deepen. "Okay. Sorry."

Sorry? Zach frowns, but he finds he isn't in the mood to unpack all that baggage in that one word now, so he goes to unpack the physical baggage instead. It's a relief, in some ways, to go through the motions of sorting the clothes in the hamper and tossing them into the washer. He feels far more useful now than he did hovering over Chris in the living room, or back at the hospital, where friends and family came and went and all Zach could do was sit and watch Chris's pale face for signs of fatigue. He thought he was going to cry when Chris's dad offered to have him come stay with them while he was recovering, but luckily Chris shut that one down quickly. But was it because he trusted Zach to take care of him, or because he didn't want to put his family out? Is he only putting up with Zach now because he has to?

Zach realizes he's spiraling and takes a deep breath to rein himself in. This is all too new. He moved in with Chris just a couple weeks before filming on the new Star Trek started, and though it seemed like a good idea at the time, it's been a big adjustment. Going from a long-distance relationship to a live-in one--plus filming twelve-plus hours a day--hasn't been easy on either of them, and Chris's injury has made things that much more awkward. Now he knows Chris feels guilty for delaying production and guilty that Zach almost took the poor stunt coordinator's head off after the fact and guilty that he screwed up the stunt in the first place. And what's Zach supposed to do with all that? He can't fix Chris's leg and he can't fix all the emotional shit surrounding it either, so all he's good for now is fetching Chris water and making him feel uncomfortable in his own damn house.

Back in the living room, Chris is still scrolling through the channels, though his eyes look unfocused, like he might not really be paying attention to what he's seeing. Zach wishes they hadn't taken the dogs over to Mark's. Maybe if they were here, they would cheer Chris up better than Zach can. 

"Hey," Zach says, leaning against the door frame and offering a tentative smile. They used to be able to communicate so much to each other with just smiles, and Zach has no idea what he may be communicating now, but he hopes it's something. He hopes Chris can still read him like this.

Chris clicks the TV off again and tosses the remote on the coffee table, and only then does he look up at Zach's face. "Hey," he says wearily. Then, after a double-take, he stretches out his hand. "Hey," he says again, softer. "Come here."

Zach goes to him and slips his fingers into Chris's, a hopeful nervousness unfurling in his chest. Before he can protest, Chris tugs at him and sends him sprawling into his lap. He only barely manages to catch himself and avoid falling against Chris's injured leg.

"Careful!" Zach digs his fingers into Chris's shoulders. "They'll have us both killed if you reinjure that leg, you moron."

"Relax," Chris says, offering up the first real smile Zach has seen in days, then hiding it in Zach's neck. "I mean it. You need to relax. You're acting like I'm on my deathbed."

"I'm not--" Zach huffs and tries to rearrange himself, get some of his weight off Chris's stomach. "It's not that. I know you're going to be fine."

"Then what is it?" Chris reaches up and brushes a few strands of hair off Zach's forehead. And God, Zach loves it when he does that. He used to be so neurotic about his hair, would duck instinctively out of the way whenever anyone reached for it, but something about Chris doing it, the intimacy of it--it makes his stomach flip over every time.

"This isn't exactly how I thought living together would go," Zach says, and then it's his turn to hide his face, pressing his mouth against Chris's temple. He still smells like hospital, but he doubts either of them want to think about the work it'll take to get him in the shower right now. "Doesn't this feel like...I don't know, some kind of bad omen?"

"Bad omen? Jesus." Chris chuckles and snatches up one of Zach's hands, brings it up to his mouth and kisses the edge of his palm. "Look, I know I've been really fucking cranky. We were both sleep-deprived even before all of this, and now I feel like I've let everybody down, and I hate being..." He gestures down the length of his body. "Helpless."

"Yeah, I know," Zach says, because he does. Of course he does.

"But none of that has anything to do with you and me," Chris says. "There are no bad omens, Zach. Only bad luck."

He turns his head to the side and captures Zach's mouth--a quick peck first, then a harder one, the kind that has them both drawing an anticipatory breath. Not that they have anything to anticipate at the moment. Chris is out of commission in every possible way.

"I just don't want you to regret this," Zach says when they break apart. He is painfully aware of how it sounds--almost childishly needy, not at all like a man who's spent most of his adult life in therapy for his abandonment issues.

Luckily for him, Chris only grin at him and shakes his head. "The only thing I regret right now is not asking you to move in with me sooner." He rubs his thumb across Zach's bottom lip. "We shouldn't have had to spend the first months of our relationship to tired or too--injured to fuck."

Zach barks out a laugh at that and swats Chris on the stomach. "One-track mind," he admonishes. 

Chris's eyes sparkle, even as the smile fades from his lips. "But seriously, do you think I don't worry about the same thing? Don't you know all I can think about is how unfair it is that you'll have to wait on me hand and foot for the next few weeks?"

"But I'm happy to do it, Chris," Zach says, brushing his fingers across Chris's cheekbone. "I'd do it even if you weren't bedridden, if you wanted me to."

Chris crinkles his nose. "Yeah, no. That sounds like a nightmare."

"Why's that?" Zach tries not to sound too hurt.

"Because I want a partner, Zach." Before Zach can argue, Chris puts a finger to his lips. "And yes, I'm aware that partners sometimes have to take care of each other, which is why I'm going to try to get over myself and let you take care of me and not be grumpy about it." He presses a loud, smacking kiss to Zach's cheek. "But in return you have to stop acting like you have to earn your right to be here, okay?"

That sentence has another ten years of therapy packed into it, but Zach pushes it away for now and focuses on the important part: that Chris wants him here, and not just for what Zach can do for him. 

"Deal," Zach says, and presses his mouth Chris's temple again. He'll do his best, anyway--which is all either of them can do. It helps, at least, that their issues are complementary. 

"Good." Chris kisses him on the mouth. "Now get me my phone, so I can order us burritos, because you are not cooking. And then you are going to sit here with me and watch a dumb action movie. And then--and then we can figure out how I'm going to shower with this thing on."

His mouth twists on that last part, and Zach can't help but smile. He scratches his fingers along Chris's scalp and then gives the back of his neck a gentle squeeze. "Maybe I can make the shower part worth your while," he says, brushing his mouth against Chris's jaw. "Provided it's safe enough, that is."

"Hmm," Chris hums, clutching the back of Zach's head to keep him there. "In that case, maybe we'll do the shower first."

[dearmyblank]

tw// throwing up, suicide attempt, depression, bleach

dear a,

i miss you at school, i know you hate it there. i feel like i haven't seen you in months. we don't have much to talk about lately. i wonder if it's my fault for not reaching out as much, or if this could go both ways. i hope you're doing better, but i know you're not. i can't ask you how you are because i know the answer is "Bad" and i don't have the words you want to hear to make you feel better. i used to, or maybe you just pretended that i helped so i would feel better, except i didn't, i only worried for the next Bad Day. 

i worry about you a lot. i know you would hate to hear that. (writing this letter, honestly, i feel like i'm about to throw up.) i wish you would be alright. i know you've tried everything you can, meds, therapy, hospitals, relationships, anything you can to take your mind off the black hole that is your feelings. i feel that way too sometimes, but this isn't about me. 

the day i rode with you in the ambulance to the hospital was one of the worst nights of my life, did you know? i never told you but i blamed myself some days. i didn't cry until days later when i was home, when you couldn't see me.

i was the one who saw you first, crying, heaving, running to the sink in the late hour of the night. your mom was screaming, asking me what happened. i didn't know any better than her. i wondered if she'd blamed me. you said your throat burned, you said you didn't know what to do and you didn't want to die anymore. all you wanted was to talk to him. all you wanted was to see him again. when i finally got to see you, you asked me to call him, and i was the one that told him what happened, i was the one who had to choke out the words, standing and sitting against the walls in the hall for hours because only family was allowed in your room while they were running tests. after i told him everything, he didn't ask about me, which i understood. like i said, it wasn't about me. i handed over the phone to you and you thanked me quietly. your voice was shaky but i could hear you through the curtain.

you were the priority here. you are the priority. your parents apologized so many times. your mom drove me back to your house to sleep for a few hours before we returned for the psych tests in the morning. it was so strange, so weird to be laying in your room, without you, wondering what would happen next, if you would be alright, if i would be allowed to see you soon. i texted my parents, i knew they would freak out but i had to let them know what happened.

of course, the one weekend that they were out of town, that i could not go home, even though i could tell you did not want me there, seeing you like that. you told me one thing i could never erase from my mind. you said, "i wish someone cared about me." but when i replied, "i care about you," you just turned your head away and said "it's not enough." i know i cannot "fix" your sadness, i know i cannot wash it away nor pretend it does not exist. but i know that i will still be someone you call at midnight, crying, not wanting me to reassure you but not wanting me to tell you that i'm sorry i don't know what to say i don't know how to make the Bad Days go away, i know i know i love you and you deserve better and if there's anything i can do to help please i love you.

in the morning, around ten, they cleared you. we all got in the car, your parents in the front seat, you and me in the back, looking out the windows with your sad, soft music on, with the words i did not understand but listened to anyway because you loved them. it was sunday. your dad asked if you had any homework left, and we drove back to your house. then your dad dropped me off, apologizing again.

i always wondered how you could just brush it under the rug, pretending it never happened. it's been a little over a year and a half since it did. i still think about it sometimes. about what would've happened if i had just noticed, if i had just gone downstairs with you, or told you something before you did. if i'll ever be able to look at bleach the same way. i always hated those jokes. 

i hope you never see this letter. i don't know what you might say. i'm worried this letter might be too obvious, but i don't know if you even follow this blog. i love you so much, i care about you deeply like a sister. i picked you over boys, i picked you over him, although that's a different story completely. i would continue to pick you even when you picked everyone but me. our group was small, but i always felt we were the closest. maybe too close, sometimes, maybe that's why it hurt me so much to see you suffering this way, when i felt so helpless. 

with assignments and getting ready for college and the school play, i don't see you much. i miss you a lot. everyday i miss you. sometimes we hang out for hours, but then i don't see you for weeks. we haven't had many sleepovers since then, but i'm not as wary of your house as i used to be. sometimes when you say sad things, i don't know what to say. i wonder if you blame me for that. i'm trying not to blame myself for that. 

i still owe you a birthday gift, but you said it was fine. you've always wanted a surprise birthday party, i'm sorry we couldn't give you that. we did celebrate together, though, and you seemed happy. you wanted to help pay for my ticket as an early birthday gift, and i refused. it wouldn't be fair. sometimes it seems you're doing better, and i'm glad. i haven't been doing so well, but i don't want to bring you down with me.

when we do get to see each other, i'm happy. i'll be happy. i hope one day when the world is not so overwhelming, we will be able to move forward. i'm so happy you're still here, i really do mean it when i say i don't know what i'd do without you. we've been through a lot, but we're strong.

love you,

v

[of-another-broken-heart]

We love to cry at 3 in the morning.

God, I really wish every time you got your meds changed or got dumped by the 45648974846th tinder ho who lied to you to get free dinner, that you didn’t jump into the exact same destructive behaviors. All of which involve burying yourself in other strangers.

Overcommit to game raid (when available). And, when not? (Or, concurrent with, but after raid sessions complete) E-fuck every stranger who will have you. Maybe even try to do that IRL. Why not? COVID’s no big deal, what’s a few STIs along the way, too.

Don’t ever actually address the source of this repeat, destructive behavior. Don’t acknowledge or confront your loneliness, your need for significant relationship connection, or even your platonic social needs. Don’t admit that you are not, in fact, self-sufficient. (Even though no human is) Don’t ever make any effort - not even a thought! - about changing or growing or learning. Not outside of therapy, to get more meds. Meds mean you don’t have to change. Meds mean you can just plaster over the problems. You don’t have to fix what’s buried, right? Don’t ever turn to anyone in your life that you don’t pay to be there. They can’t be trusted to do what you want, after all. They might try to do what’s actually helpful for you. And that - you can’t have that.

Otherwise you might end up doing better.

And you just can’t actually have that, can you?

What a profound hypocrisy coming from me, maybe.

I don’t know how to come to terms with just how much I still fucking care about your idiot ass, and how much this hurts me to see you repeat, and how alone and STILL USED AND DISCARDED I FEEL! (Because I WAS used and discarded!)

I’m here. I’m always here.

And you choose not to see me.

Most people choose not to see me. It just hurts so much more when it’s you.

All this fucking time and STILL, all I fucking wish is that I could be wherever you are and put your idiot face in my hands and just take care of you.

Because I’m an idiot, too. A broken, wretched fool.

What I wouldn’t give to be able to stop loving you.

[thedapperrabbit]

She-Ra Rewatch: season 3 and onwards through season 4, and boatloads of Introspection time!

So Ive been rewatching She-Ra with my partner, because sharing Entrapdak is caring. I could probably squee on about that for a century or more (because eeee, sharing things i love with people i love AND THEY EVEN PAY ATTENTION TO THE THINGS AND REMEMBER THEM!)...but ill spare you, kind internet strangers who for some reason find my thoughts mildly interesting enough to be reading this. This is going to be a lot. Like, a LOT. A lot especially from a stranger that youve probably only seen a notification from due to me sticking a heart on your content or for reblogging something lovely youve made in pictures or words. I dont think anything is going to be violently trigger-y because im not always great at judging that stuff and also ive yet to feel quite comfy enough to be  fully open-posting specifics about my own past trauma, other than a vague allusion to self-harm and distant-ish unspecified abuse aaaand the usual childhood garbage truck of assholes....but i suppose you could possibly draw some darker potential conclusions from the content im focused on. Also, my ADHD makes it incredibly hard to keep to a straight and non-branching narrative so...ramble-y bits and expressions of brain frustration ahoy. Either way...you are forewarned, just in case. Sorry in advance, this is going to be a small booklet by the time Im done explaining, and thinking, and then attempting to stick words to abstract feels which sometimes im great at, and then others i fucking suck at...but at least this is all written and not me trying to say this to any of your faces! Thats....a mercy all of its own. Haa...  Anyway, while rewatching with my partner, I realized just how much more painful parts of it are to sit through now...they were the first time, and each time since, but NOW having spent a while mulling over the series as a whole a bunch, and reading a lot of other peoples writings on here and finding myself largely in agreement with most Entrapdak fan’s assessment of things, I just....feel like all the air is ripped out of me during some moments, watching  with keener insight. And despite thinking i had myself reasonably well figured out by my age, its all also made me further consider a few things about myself as well. Particularly my notable internalized fury response to chunks of it which have been consistent through all my viewings of SPOP. With Hordak at least, its way easier to understand my reactions. For me at least. Maybe not so much for the people around me. And, shittier due to intensity and subject matter, but still easier in the long run because...the broken bits in me that he resonates with are fresher and sharper and still more recent, like within the last ten years, and thus more towards the front shelves in my head, compared to things that resonate with Entrapta, which are all old, lifelong dull aches at this point. I feel like nothing i can point to is fully sufficient to fully express my feels involving Hordak. But, maybe the best representative moment is with the crying i do every damn time I see his face looking up at Prime just after he glimmer and catra were beamed up...because ive seen that face in the mirror. I HAVE MADE THAT FACE. That same. Goddamn. Face. I may not have gotten a jab to the back of the neck directly from the person I made it at...but they often seemed to silently goad me to harm myself in an attempt to jolt my brain out of getting stuck in re-looping through what theyd just done/said to me. Likewise, much of his interactions with Entrapta are very...very weirdly familiar in feeling, but in a good way. Watching the stuff with Hordak hurts because fuck me if it isnt frequently like watching myself back in 2008ish to 2013, which was the duration of the worst parts of that particular circle of hell i parked my ass in. So...that makes sense. Hes so well written in those moments, it occasionally gave me PTSD flashbacks (still does a little, but now im prepared and braced for it and can shrug it back off....thanks, lifetime of therapy and years of studying abnormal psychology! Still totally not an expert, just very passionate...just, as a disclaimer).  Entrapta though...Entrapta is a different story. Mostly, I see Entrapta and in her free expressions of delight and joy and her bouncy enthusiasm I am reminded of a younger, less discouraged me in some ways, and in others, a “me��� I could have been, but...well, extremely early-onset anxiety and depression made me insanely self-conscious super-super early on...not that i was great at hiding or...i guess the term people seem comfy with is “masking”? Which was a huge problem, or so it was in the 80s when far less was understood of such things. Id do so for a bit and then would forget to, in a way (because id forget long enough to go and trust again reflexively) and would get badly bullied and would squish everything down until id feel a crumb of safety again, and then almost instantly ADHD would pop that mask right the rest of the way off aaand it would start all over again. Ad nauseam until my teen years, where the depression sort of “fixed” that, and made it much easier to destroy my desire to share much of myself freely at all, save for with one or two people, and to a less deep extent a broader circle of nerd friends. Course, then i hit 30 and ran out of the majority of fucks I used to give. Or I became so damaged and salted with anger that parts of me dont grow any fucks anymore? Either way, plowshares to swords, WHEEEE!) And, maybe thats where this time while watching, I started to really think back to all that, and to how i see Entrapta treated by the other princesses, or really just in general except by Hordak...and why it burns my biscuits so badly. Every time I see someone roll their eyes at Entrapta’s beautiful unbridled enthusiasm or try to make it seem distasteful or at least weird and unwanted and uncomfortable for them but then dont even bother to try coming to terms with why they feel that way... or how they seem to feel free to grab and manhandle her without her consent, or the way they try to lessen her contributions because shes non-normative? Like its the fucking least she can do to make up for being weird in their space (...okay, that might just be the anger kicking in..but i dont feel like its an entirely innacurate assessment, is it?)  All of that...seeing it inflicted upon someone, It feels like someones punched me right in the damn sternum, but because its a hurt that im so desensitized to, it seems to have a much different effect than the sharp, violent crushing pain that i feel when I relate to Hordak a little too well for comfort. Again, i could go on, but its nothing more eloquent people on here havent already spoken volumes on. And my first gut reaction is always “I dont understand! why is that their reaction to her?! it doesnt seem logical at all, i dont seem to be able to parse it correctly, how is this acceptable? I HOPE SHE IMMOLATES YOU ALL.”. Which...I suppose isnt entirely usual for me (the silent wishing that people be immolated, I mean...i blame my past years of working in retail. And devouring too much Warhammer 40k contentl).  (oh gods...and this is going to be the most clusterfucky part cause i can feel my meds kicking in and thats gonna be hard to keep coherence on but i gotta get this all out of my head or ill forget it or get too scared of you fucking BRILLIANT insightful smart people on here and then ill continue to live scared and regretful that i never said..anything, and just sat here like “noticeme, entrapdak sempais!”  Ehhn...which is to say, if this is a garbage dump from here down, dont worry, when i wake up ill fix it...but hopefully itll at least make a tiny bit of sense ) But I realized something...something I hadnt ever rememberd much about due to the shitty neuronormative (apology if thats wrong term) behaviors continuing over years and years but in less and less directly aggressive ways as i grew older and was more prone to losing my shit in , (and likely because I got excessively lucky and managed through...uhhh...agonizing determination? Sheer stubbornness? Alleviatory rebalancing of universal karma? fuck if i know --to  curate a surprisingly supportive circle of other castoffs and misanthropes.) That was exactly how people used to treat me.  OKAY THISLL BE EDITED LATER to add in the rest of what i was gonna say...im...too full of Ambien sleep meds and damn write it anymore...and im aing trouble separating realigty and dream...an i k apawing at the kybord...not safe Lov yous for reading this far. Il fix it later, swears.

[allenmendezsr]

New - Plantar Fasciitis System - Pays 75% & Bonus

New Post has been published on https://autotraffixpro.app/allenmendezsr/new-plantar-fasciitis-system-pays-75-bonus/

New - Plantar Fasciitis System - Pays 75% & Bonus

 Buy Now

    If you are suffering from plantar fasciitis this is the most important letter you will ever read.

Here is why: I will spill the beans about a method that has the power to completely eliminate foot pain in just minutes…and… all you need are your own hands.

What’s more…this is just one part of a holistic system that has already helped hundreds to cure plantar fasciitis for good.

“…after the first day I already saw improvement.”

“Being a hairdresser I have to spend all day on my feet. I only made it through the day with lots of NSAIDs. Those ruined my digestion. My apartment was a wreck because after my job all I could do was lying down. I felt so helpless. I tried your speed cure and after the first day I already saw improvement. Incredible! Now I’m off the meds for weeks, all my pain is gone and my customers comment on how happy I suddenly am. You saved my life! Nancy”

–– Nancy Rodiguez, Red Bank, NJ

“…within a week I was completely pain free!”

“When I found your site I was ready for surgery. The constant pain almost made me lose my mind. I was a scared, physical and mental wreck. Your system works so well I couldn’t help myself but to write and thank you personally. The results I’ve been getting speak for themselves – within a week I was completely pain free! Keep up the good work, Joseph”

– Joseph Bratcher, Mill Valley, CA

“I am 100% better, pain free and PF seems like a nightmare I woke up from.”

“Dear Emma, getting your system wrote the last chapter in my endless PF story. I’ve been to countless doctors, got sick from all the meds and yes, my feett HURT. The pain got so bad I had to take pills every 12 hours together with nausea med not to thow them up. It was BAD. I followed your system to the T and now I may possibly be the happiest person in Wisconsin. I am 100% better, pain free and PF seems like a nightmare I woke up from. Can’t thank you enough! Olivia”

– Olivia Fisher, UK

But who am I and why should you listen to me?

My name is Emma Eccles. I’m not a professional ad writer. But what I have to share with you is so important, I had to write you myself. So please bear with me a little.

In over three years of trials and many disappointments I have developed a fail-save system anyone can follow that not only relieves chronic foot pain…but permanently eliminates plantar fasciitis.

After hundreds of success stories I’m so sure that it will work for anyone…I am offering you a 60 days, full money back guarantee that it will cure your condition as well. Not only will your foot pain be a thing of the past, you will be completely healed and never ever suffer from plantar fasciitis again.

All you need to do is plug into this proven system so you know exactly what to do. You don’t have to think about anything. Just follow the simple plan and you will experience relief of your pain within days…in light cases as little as hours!

How It All Started

I was 40 years old and very busy. My job in a restaurant wasn’t always easy. And my kid needed her mom to take care of her. I had little time for myself but I never complained. I like being there for people.

I still remember that one Sunday morning. The day before had been crazy. It was a wedding party we served. Those are usually the worst. Now, don’t get me wrong…I love weddings just like the next person…but…serving those parties is madness. Lots of people, lots of orders, and they always last until the wee hours.

I was on my feet all day. Rushing back and forth between guests and kitchen. My feet were tired but I just pushed through as I always do. I ignored the mounting pain. I had a job to do.

The next day I woke up with a surprise. My feet still hurt.I did not think much of it. I was sure the pain would go away just like it always had. Little did I know…

I Was In For A Trip To Hell

The pain lessened by the evening. Everything seemed to be ok. Than came the next morning…and the pain was back. In fact it wasn’t just back. It got worse. I still wasn’t worried though. I still thought things would work themselves out.

It took a week for this bubble to burst. When the first thing you feel after getting up is pain… not once…not twice…but every day of the week you know something is WRONG. However I was as clueless as the next person about the cause. Maybe a heel spur, I thought.

I made an appointment with my doctor. Certainly this was easy to fix….just like all the other conditions I had until than. How wrong I was!

My doctor listened to my story. He seemed as clueless as me. So he sent me off to get some x-rays. The x-rays didn’t help him much. But that was not what he told me. He just said it wasn’t anything serious…no broken bones. I’d probably recover fast. I reminded him of my pain. He prescribed me Vioxx. Thanks God I did not stay on it…or I might be dead by now!

A week later I was back. No improvement. If I did not take the pills I was in pain. My doctor tried to calm me down. It would all work itself out. But I was having none of it. I’m on my feet all day. I need to get well…FAST…I told him. He sent me off to a specialist.

My next stop was a podiatrist. He gave me the diagnosis: plantar fasciitis. Didn’t mean anything to me. He advised night splinting my foot. The splint was so uncomfortable I could hardly sleep at night.

By Now I Had Hot Burning Pain All Day

The night splint didn’t do anything for me. I had switched to Ultram because the pain got worse…and my ankle had started to hurt as well. The podiatrist wasn’t much help. His advice was the usual: Rest your feet, do some stretching and you will get well soon. If it had been only that easy!

I couldn’t lie in bed all day. Who can? And those exercises hurt. In fact it was as though the pain would laugh at me. It wouldn’t let me go. Like a shadow it was following me everywhere I went. I was getting more and more desperate. In tears I begged my doctor for a cortisone shot. That ankle shot was the most gut wrenching pain ever…and that’s coming from someone who gave birth!

Still it seemed to be worth it…after the injection I was actually pain free. I felt like singing and dancing. However just 10 days later I had a rude awakening: The pain returned…and with all its might! Not only was I disappointed…I was devastated! In fact…

I was Ready To Cut My Foot Off

But before I went on a merry-go-round of doctors and specialists. My thinking was simple: There just had to be someone who could help me. I was ready to listen to anyone who seemed to be qualified to give me advice….and lots of people thought they were.

My experience was that pretty much everyone had something to say. If I had a dime for every advice on how to treat plantar fasciitis…I’d be sipping champagne at the beach by now! For months I followed one recommendation after the next…

Orthodics that cost me $400

Gel pads, cups, cushions, inserts, you name it

Reflexology

Reiki

Aromotherapy

Physiotherapy

Deep Heat Rubs

Nonsteriodal anti-inflamatory durgs (NSAIDs)

But NOTHING worked.

All my friends were already tired of hearing about the condition. So I went under the knife. The first night after the surgery was rough, no lying about that. No wonder. They had removed scar tissue from around my nerve, thinned my plantar fascia and even sawed off some bone spurs. It felt like it wasn’t too far from having my foot cut off.

I thought it a miracle when they put me off pain meds just three days later. The next 2 months I spent on crutches – using my foot was off limits. What followed were 2 more months in a boot and then physical therapy. Was it worth all that? Well…all those months during recovery I was pain free…but…

What Doctors Don’t Tell You

Now my story could be over right here. Another prime example of the miracles of modern medicine.I so wish it would have. No one talks about what that recovery really means. It’s almost like being a baby again. You can hardly move and when youdo …you are sloooow. Driving is out of the question. You either have someone who takes care of you…or you are screwed.

And don’t think this situation will be over in a heartbeat. It drags on for months…all the muscle on your legs disappear…and at the end of it…you basically need to learn to walk again. If you love sports it will break your heart.

By the time I had suffered from plantar fasciitis for over a year so I was ready to take it all…If only the pain would disappear! It seemed as though it had – so I did not complain. That came later.

A month after physical therapy I hit rock bottom. I was finally back on my feet…finally bening able to do what I wanted without asking for help…when I found myself back at square one. I woke up with the hot burning pain I was assured would never return.

There’s an ugly truth about plantar fasciitis surgery doctors don’t want you to know: The success rate can be as low as 30%. Even with a great specialist every 5th patient gets no relief whatsoever from surgery. Thinking about how none of the doctors ever bothered to mention this still makes my blood boil.

The plantar fasciitis operation is often called the last way out. However…all too ofen this way proves to be a dead end. Just imagine what you would tell your bank if they’d recommend a “save investment” that comes with a risk of 70% of losing all your money. If there’s a proven way to stop plantar fasciitis…surgery certainly is not it.

When Everything Fails

Now when the going gets tough – and it dosen’t get much tougher than being a “hopeless case”…suffering from pain all day every day…with no options left – most people give up. Just try to live with it. Because what can you do?

But I have never been a quitter and living with this horrible pain for the rest of my life simply wasn’t an option. Not for my own sake…and not for the sake of my daughter you needs a healthy mother to take care of her.

I needed to make a last ditch effort…start my own research – deep research that leaves no stone unturned. I was firing on all cylinders…went to all the forums I could find online…bought all the books about the subject…watched all the videos on YouTube…and even digged into those scientific articles you need to read three times and still understand only half of it.

I turned myself into a human guinea pig and nothing was too strange for me to try. Almost everything turned out to be a huge waste of my time and money. However some of the techniques seemed to help. It was a small glimpse of hope – enough to keep me going.

Light at the End of the Tunnel

I mixed together everything that brought results…combined it in all possible ways…and for the first time since my operation…my pain went away!

I had struck gold.

Something about the combination of rest periods, special taping and short series of light exercises brought that relief nothing else had.

I don’t think anyone who hasn’t suffered from plantar fasciitis can ever imagine what it feels like to stand on your feet…and not feel a hot, burning pain. It literally feels like being reborn.

What would you do if you escaped your misery? What would you do if your feet would finally be pain-free? For me it was catching up. I enjoyed all the things I had been missing the last years. Amazing!I

However…after some time I began to wonder…

Does this system work for anybody else?

I went back to the forums I used to visit and got in touch with other plantar fasciitis victims….asked around who was willing to follow in my footsteps and try the approach that had healed me. A lot of people raised their hand.

There was only one problem…I had no way of showing people what to do. Explaining even simple exercises in words is awfully complicated. And with a condition so serious you want to make certain you do the right thing.

I thus decided to make some brief videos for people to see what to do. A friend of mine produces videos for a living and I got him to help me out. Together we made 13 professional videos showing everything there is to do. I also wrote up a manual explaining the exact treatment plan.

I sent the entire package out to people for free… responded to all the questions they had. And they had a lot. The initial descriptions confused people. I had to rewrite them….again and again…until they made sense for everyone.

The questions got less and less…and instead…I started receiving feedback on the results. Glowing testimonials of average people that thought nothing could cure their plantar fasciitis…before they tried my system.

Here are just a few of the reports I received…and still receive…on an almost daily basis:

“Since I started your program…my pain is almost gone.”

“Dear Emma, I can’t thank you enough for you system! I suffered from pf for over a decade and I thought I had tried everything (not counting going under the knife). The only thing that kept that pain at bay was accupuncture which was costing me $50 a session. With the one session a week that was $200 a month and all for temporary relief. Since I started your program three weeks ago my pain is almost gone. I’m still in disbelief. I already saved over $100 on accupuncture and during these times that means a lot to me. Much love, Christal”

– Chrystal Smith

“Your system has succeeded where every doctor failed.”

“Hi, for the first time in the last 10 months I was no longer afraid to get out of bed. Usually I knew the hot, throbbing pain would await me once I set my heel down but not this time. Your system has succeeded where every doctor failed – not only treating but curing my plantar fasciitis. I’ll be forever grateful for this miracle. Yours truly, Steven”

– Steven Clegg

“…my pain is about 75% gone and I just started your program.”

“Emma, I started on your program a few days ago and I am already seeing significant improvements. Incredible! You know more about plantar fasciitis than all the doctors I have been to. Not only didn’t they know how to to help me, they belittled my pain, tried to pump me full of meds, diagnosed a stress fracture (x-rays prove otherwise) and even implied I was had a mental disorder! Now my pain is about 75% gone and I just started your program. I can’t thank you enough for sharing this information! Valery”

– Valery Martin

What most people commented on was how easy the system was to follow. Especially including trigger points into my approach had a huge impact in lessening and even eliminating the pain in just minutes.

Trigger points are small contraction knots in the muscles of the body. More and more research confirms that these knots can cause a variety of aches and pain in the body. Let me tell you why this matters to you…

What REALLY Causes Your Pain

If you have been to countless doctors and none was able to successfully treat your plantar fasciitis…you might actually not suffer from plantar fasciitis at all! Muscle contractions in certain areas of your body can cause pain that is easily mistaken for plantar fasciitis.

Despite the fact that these trigger points have been discovered more than 60 years ago many doctors are still completely in the dark about them. The good news is that you don’t even need a physician to treat pain triggered this way. Once you know how, you can be your own healer.

Let me show you the most important trigger point that can clear up light cases mistaken for plantar fasciitis in just minutes.

Pain from this trigger point shows itself in the following areas:

Heel

Calf

Back of the ankle

Sounds familiar?

The trigger point is located below your calf muscle, at the bottom of the Soleus muscle. You can easily find your Soleus when you lift your toes and pay attention which muscle in your leg contracts. The trigger point you are looking for is at the bottom of your calf muscle right in the middle of your lower leg.

If you put your hand on your lower leg with your middle finger touching your heel the point is roughly where your carpal bone makes contact with the leg. If you can not find it on your own, take a look at the pictures included in the FREE bonus guide that comes with the Plantar Fasciitis System.

Now simply put your finger on the point and press. You should feel slight pain. If you don’t feel anything, move your finger up and down until you found it. Massage it for half a minute with one of two fingers. Doing this repeatedly over the course of several days has the power to eliminate even stubborn pain.

Now in case that this might not work for you…don’t worry! This is just one of several trigger points explained and the use of trigger points is just one component of the complete Plantar Fasciitis System. Each component is designed to work with the other to create a synergetic healing effect that clears up even stubborn cases of plantar fasciitis.

“I love how simple yet structured your approach is.”

“Hey, your system did what even the $235.00 handmade German shoes I bought didn’t help to do: Having pain free feet all day. I love how simple yet structured your approach is. It’s truly is a SYSTEM that cure plantar fasciitis. Thanks for rescuing me! Martha”

– Martha Rowan

Warning! Do NOT Trust Any Guide Or Self-Proclaimed “Expert” Unless They Prove The Following 5 Things To You

I know there’s a ton of conflicting information out there what really works for healing plantar fasciitis. For this reason I want to give you 5 things you absolutely, positively must check before you trust anyone to give you advice:

There MUST be proven results! The most effective way to fast healing is to copy what’s already been proven to work. The Plantar Fasciitis System has already helped hundreds to cure their condition. More importantly people still write me every day thanking me for the miracle of relieving their foot pain…a pain they often suffered from for years. This is why I am so confident this system will work for you as well I offer a full, 100% money-back guarantee.

You MUST get a treatment plan from someone who knows what she’s talking about! Before trying any treatment, make sure it’s designed by someone who knows what plantar fasciitis means. Don’t fall for some book smart doctor that has never actually cured anyone and that might have last seen a case 30 years back in some textbook while he was studying.  I have struggled myself for almost 3 years before I managed to cure my plantar fasciitis. During those years I have been to countless doctors. Most don’t have a clue how to help you. Most people I talked to tell me the exact same. My system cured me. It helped hundreds more. Please let me help you, too!

To save you suffering and frustration, you should exchange money for valuable information stops your pain — fast You know, I’ve learned over the years that it pays, many times over, to discover what others already know. This way you save a ton of time because you can completely eliminate the learning curve you need to go through when making the experience yourself. “Free” information you get from somewhere online are probably worth exactly what you pay for them. Not only don’t you know if they work, they could actually harm you. In the best case you waste your time and needlessly suffer for longer than you have to. Don’t do this to yourself and your feet! The Plantar Fasciitis System will get you pain-free as fast as humanly possible. And it’s easy to use.

The information MUST be up-to-date Research and medical discoveries never stop. Methods that used to be effective get out-dated faster and faster. You  shouldn’t follow any advice that does not rely on the newest,  cutting-edge science. I know this and I’m still active in all the forums. There isn’t a study about foot pain I don’t read. Nothing makes me happier than when I find a way to make the Plantar Fasciitis System more effective. Why? Because I know exactly what it feels like to suffer. And I don’t want that for anyone!

Most importantly, you must be able to trust the person that offers a cure

You know…I wrote the Plantar Fasciitis System to make sure you have a proven step-by-step guide to forever rid yourself of any foot pain. I want to give you a short-cut for rapid healing…worth at least 10 times the price of this system!

Here Are Just Some of the Secrets Revealed in this Course

Secret #1: The almost magical self-treatment that can erase plantar fasciitis pain in minutes – proven to work in 73% of all cases (p.15-16)

The “dirty secret” about what causes plantar fasciitis most doctors are too embarrassed to tell you (p.11)

Secret #3: Two amazingly effective, yet totally pain-free ways to stretch your plantar fascia…easy to do no matter how out of shape you are (p.17)

57-year-old Mary had no clue why her feet hurt. No doctor was able to tell her the reason. A quick glance on page 8 of the Plantar Fasciitis System manual finally gave her certainty. And easy-to-follow instructions on how to treat herself.

Secret #5: How to massage your plantar fasciitis away (p.39)

Sam, a sport enthusiast from Arkansas, was heart-broken when his doctor told him not to engage in any sports or exercise activity. In the manual he discovered 3 sports that are completely save to do even with acute plantar fasciitis. See for yourself. (p.42)

Secret #7: The fasted way to escape your burning heel pain…proven to work for over 60 years  (p.3)

How normal is your plantar fasciitis? New medical study reveal surprising results (p.9)

Secret #9: The biggest mistake most people make with resting…and how to avoid it (p.10)

The 5 best stretching exercises…including the single best stretch for plantar fasciitis – according to a study in the Journal of Bone and Joint Surgery (p.18)

Secret #11: What does not cause plantar fasciitis – no matter what your doctor told you (p.11-12)

Pain during the night, pain in the morning, pain all day…how normal is your pain pattern? (p.90)

Secret #13: The one advice every doctor gives when treating plantar fasciitis that is right on the money (p.42)

How to attack your plantar fasciitis from 3 angles…guaranteeing a save and lasting treatment that bans it forever from your life (p.6)

Secret #15: 3 incredibly easy ways to bullet-proof feet…you can do them at home using common household objects as your “equipment” (p.31-38)

How likely are your friends and family to also suffer from plantar fasciitis? Discover the highest plantar fasciitis risk factor and what to do about it (p.12)

Secret #17: Nature’s counter-intuitive way to avoid injury…and how it helps you to look and feel more youthful(p.17)

Army study reveals highest risk factors for injuries – are you or your loved ones among the unlucky? (p.12)

Secret #19: The counter-intuitive plantar fasciitis treatment…proven to work for virtually anyone…even if your doctor has already give up on you (p.17)

Why the 3-angle approach trigger point therapy takes is THE best approach to treating any pain related condition  (p.14)

Secret #21: 7 Proven methods that make your feet forever plantar fasciitis proof…even if surgery failed you (p.31-39)

How to save hundreds of $$$ on orthotics (p.43)

Secret #22: The surprising reason why more women suffer from plantar fasciitis and foot pain (p.44)

And more. A LOT more!

 Why The Plantar Fasciitis Sytem Is Unlike Anything Else Out There

Reason #1: Fastest treatment

When you suffer from plantar fasciitis all you want is…get rid of the pain! This is why the Plantar Fasciitis System attacks the root of the pain from the very beginning. It relieves the muscle tightness…and short-circuits the nerve triggers that are responsible for your misery.

It works its magic in not just one way…but attacks the pain from multiple angles leaving it no other choice but to surrender. Like wheels in a clog every component works with the others to achieve the fastest pain relief  humanly possible.

Reason #2: The only systematic way to treat plantar fasciitis…guaranteeing results

When dealing with a condition as severe and persistent as plantar fasciitis…a few “tips and tricks” won’t do the job.

If you think a guide with a few stretching exercises or some badly filmed practice you found on youtube will help you…you are in for an unpleasant surprise. Your plantar fasciitis won’t leave you that easy.

You need a proven, systematic approach that attacks and resolves the issue in all possible ways. For this reason the Plantar Fasciitis System is not just a collection of various exercises. It is a well thought-through, step-by-step manual that has already helped hundreds of people just like you to leave the pain behind.

In fact, I’m so sure that it will help YOU that I’m offering an unconditional full money-back guarantee. In the very unlikely case that you will not see rapid improvements and a lessening of your pain in just days I beg you to ask me for a full refund.

Reason #3: Clear, easy-to-follow explanations

The worst thing is looking for help…and getting confusing, unclear advice. Not with the Plantar Fasciitis System. Constant feedback from hundreds of users together with countless revisions have made sure everyone can understand and follow this treatment.

Even better: Not only do you receive a detailed, step-by-step plan including pictures…you also get 9 HD videos showing you exactly how the recommended exercises work. All you need to do is press “Play” and follow along. It couldn’t be easier.

Check Out What This Whole Revolutionary System Contains

The Plantar Fasciitis System

The Plantar Fasciitis System is the most complete, effective and FAST way to cure plantar fasciitis. I developed this system over years…based on my personal experience with plantar fasciitis.

Over the years the system has been constantly improved and shown its effectiveness on hundreds of people that suffered from foot pain.

The entire system contains a manual which gives you step-by-step explanations exactly on what to do…when to do it…and how to do it. All exercises are explained in simple English and come with clear pictures that show you how it should look.

But this is not all. To make 100% certain that you do everything right – and to make it easy for you – it also includes 9 videos…filmed in HD… demonstrating the exercises step by step…so you can easily follow along.

The Plantar Fasciitis System gets delivered digitally. This means in just minutes after you go ahead and click the button below you will get access to everything you need to escape your foot pain forever.

[heartbroken-ghost]

What the fuck is even the point in trying to get better? My life has really been no better than it was. I quit cutting and starving myself and purging and medications and got a new therapist I like and started talking to friends again and just ended up with the same bullshit I've always experienced. Why even try anymore, seriously?

My therapist doesn't want me working, disability doesn't pay enough for the cost of living here unless I want to live in fucking student housing when I'm not a student and I don't just want a tiny ass room, I don't seem to do better when I live on my own, I can't fucking drive right now or be sure that if I started again that it'd even work out well for me, I don't have friends I can live with, my therapist basically confirmed that my parents are abusive at least sometimes, if I don't move in with them I'm risking being homeless in the fucking brutal ass winter here, shelters are packed in the winter and I have too much stuff to move into one anyways and they only let you stay for a month at a time, my only other option where there isn't a waiting list was my friend's house but her mom is also on assistance so if I move in there she could lose money or both of us could, working could help somewhat but my new therapist is saying she doesn't think I should be working and so are my friends, my mom said she would want me to live with her but she's literally more abusive than my dad and my stepmom and loves to gaslight me constantly, rent continues to rise so I'm fucked, and literally I was at the point of being stable enough to clean fucking dishes and be keeping down my food while still losing weight in a healthy and actually unintentional way, one of my friends that probably would've let me stay with her died on my dad's birthday this year, a mutual friend her and I had is in the fucking hospital unable to even keep her meds down, my mom called me about her will and her dying is one of my worst fears (probably because how she used to threaten to kill herself if I left her house when I was a child) and also I feel like I broke this stupid unrealistic promise I made to myself as a child to fix or help her and I know she'll probably die with her and I being on somewhat shitty terms still, I've asked literally almost everybody I can think of to live with them and I can't, my heart is still broken from a guy I love that went back to his girlfriend and I'm not even sure if things I thought have been true this past year hasn't all just been some huge delusion of mine. Why try to get better when shit just keeps fucking happening? I'm 21, on disability for things my parents think are pretty much not even real or are just me exaggerating, I don't even know my actual limitations, like fuck man. I can't even talk or write without my brain being scattered as fuck and losing what I'm trying to say or my original point... This is just total shit man like I literally have no idea what to do and I don't even really want to post this but I just need to write this down somewhere where people I know won't see it so I can get this shit off my chest and I'm hoping that maybe one day I can just look back at this shit and it won't be an issue and that I'll be able to fucking survive. I just don't even see the point in trying anymore and I feel like I did the best I could or at least almost did. I don't even trust myself anymore or know what to believe.

I was in therapy for years to no avail, then tried healing on my own and got somewhere with it but man. I stopped working 3 years ago because I legitimately couldn't handle it anymore so I basically had a mental breakdown after working for 4 months, ended up in a psychiatric ward for 5 months (at which point my dad and stepmom said they couldn't really handle living with me anymore so:) then I moved into a grouphome, then I had my first manic psychotic episode where I set my fucking clothes on fire and went off a shit ton of meds, I moved in with my mom after then attempted suicide and almost died (sometimes I still just wish I had) and survived that, then started doing drugs because I felt so low I felt like I either had to start doing drugs or kill myself successfully (and I didn't want to risk putting my family and my damn self even through another failed one), I was in group therapy then fucking quit impulsively (at least I don't entirely regret that now), then I got clean after my friends and brother (I think with his ex Baylee as well) gave me an intervention and I quit crack cocaine cold turkey, I stopped cutting minus a small relapse last year when I lived with my mom (living with her always seems to end badly), and purging and meds (which I would intentionally overdose on last year), and I've been clean almost entirely from everything this year with the exception of ocassionally drinking and smoking cigarettes and doing 2 lines of coke once (I don't even remember if that was this year or last year at this point), I moved all the fuck over the place, lost my fucking cat (didn't entirely take proper care of him anyways so I guess it's fine? But I still miss him..), when I lived with my dad and stepmom again early this year after pretty much getting myself kicked out of my mom's for expressing discomfort, I tried to take a medication for aggression and symptoms of something like delirium and became overmedicated/had a negative reaction to the haldol, then moved into the apartment I now have to be out of within 2 months (if not less now) which had 2 fucking huge leaks that caused issues between my landlord and I (who just lost her mother recently and possibly also her father so her last priority is helping me which at this point I don't even really want her to do anyways because she's been pretty damn cool with me seeing as I couldn't pay for any damages), I've also never gotten sick this many times within a fucking year or so, can't seem to move on from a person I'll probably never actually get to be with because they love their current girlfriend too much and have been on and off with them for years and I scare them and might fucking be delusional anyways about them even saying they'd be with me (long story I'm not gonna get into if anybody is even reading this - like I said, I just need to vent).. It's just like fucking endless. What the fuck has 2019 even been other than an awful year AGAIN (love that! .... The passive aggression is real but anyways) like people say it gets better

But does it really?

I'd like to fucking see that happen. I thought it did and maybe I'm just having a negative filter and shit right now but I swear I'm just back in the exact same place I used to be.

I cry a little less at least and have a stable source of income and if I'm not delusional then at least I'm cared for (idk about loved but who knows anymore), and at least I lost weight and have a therapist I like a lot better than my previous ones

But like... man. I really don't blame myself at this point for still smoking cigarettes and at least I haven't been back to a psychiatric ward since last year. There's still improvement, just with all the fucking curveballs I've been thrown this year I'm not exactly steady by any means. When people have asked for the past couple of months how I'm doing I just say "could be better, could be worse" or "I don't know" and it still applies.

I just don't know or seem to understand almost anything anymore. Like how did it even get like this? All I've been fucking wanting is to heal and maybe it's just that it's not linear and I need to be more grateful but god damn, again I really don't blame myself.

I'm just at one of those points where recovery feels pointless and I feel hopeless.

My therapist said before that it's just depression clouding my judgement but man don't I have a right to feel like this after all of that? I think so. She'd (my therapist) probably agree but anyways I don't even really know what my point was. I'm just stressed, sad again and it feels lately like I'm exactly where I used to be. This is probably why I used to live according to the motto "hope for the best but expect the worst".

I just want to do and feel and be better.

[vampykitty-kun]

Update:

Well, it’d been about a year or so and I guess it’s time to say that I’m not dead. I’ve only just now, as of an hour ago, gotten internet hooked up in my ‘home’.

This past year was a train-wreck.

the move I planned for almost 2 years, and spent all my savings on, was a bust. I had to move back after only 3 months, because once I got out there the property owner changed their mind on a whole bunch of crap. I spent the entire summer in 80-100 degree weather and no AC. Given that I was up in Wisconsin and lived my entire life in northern IL me and heat do not get along. They wouldn’t let me have the electric company come out and install electrical lines, because the company needed the property owner to sign off on it and he was a paranoid ass that kept insisting he was going to get stuck with the bill despite me having the cash in hand and the order being under my name. I spent the 3 months with one extension cord, no gas, no plumbing.

The guy that moved me out there also moved me home. He was a neighbor that was friends with my mother but only 3 years older than me. He was in a rough spot. Lost his job, his girlfriend left him, and the roommates he acquired after she left stole the rent $ and ditched him. By the time the 6 hour drive home was done he managed to convince me to move into his house. My father had stolen my bedroom after I moved out, threw out all my furniture, and was not going to give my room back. Neither parent wanted me to move back in with all of my pets either. I would have been stuck taking my grandma’s old room, which never would have fit all my stuff, and I had no furniture to speak of while this guy already had a bed, dresser, and TV in a room for me.

I took the chance and moved in. Honestly I just wish I never tried to leave home. I moved in mid September and spent the next several months without internet, paying all his back rent, paying most of the ongoing rent, buying all the food and cleaning supplies, etc, etc, etc, to the point that I’ve never been so tapped out financially in my life. He did start working on Halloween, but then was bad with his money, and it took several occasions before i had to start demanding to see rental receipts because not only would he often not give the landlord as much as he said HE was giving him, he often kept money I gave him for the rent and spent it elsewhere. Then because He was having to ride a bike home 40 mins from work as the buses didn’t run that late, he bought a beater car from a co-worker when we still weren’t caught up on rent. In the end I had to even contribute to that cost. Then we were FINALLY almost all caught up and he was laid off the first week of March. 

It got to the point that I flat out refused to pay for anything anymore, sold some things, and started saving money for my own place. But as many people know, renting with multiple pets is a nightmare. We were about to be evicted, he at the drop of a dime acquired a girlfriend who moved in the day they started seeing each other, and I ended up having to drop another $600 to avoid ending up out on my ass. He and she were of course supposed to contribute to that, but they didn’t. She did get a job and start paying rent after that, but he only managed to finally start work last week. I of course no longer have money saved up to move out so I’m trapped here until at LEAST July. I had to pay to get the internet hooked up and $100 towards rent again just 2 days ago.

Past housing related issues there have been plenty. 

Right before I moved out May 2016 my grandmother had a stroke. She ended up in rehab, recovered some after a few months, then came home. But then she had another stroke and ended up with mercer, and ended up back in the hospital just a week after coming home. She did not recover that time. She ended up in hospice. I did manage to go see her a few times before she passed away November 4th, just 2 days after my mother’s birthday and we had gone to see her.

Atticus, my sweet, adorable smooshy faced kitty jumped out the window a week before Halloween. I had repeated yelled at my roommate to put the screens back in the window, but he was ‘anti-screen’ saying it blocked air flow. I then repeated told him to warn me if the windows were open so I could lock Atticus in my bedroom. He of course never remembered. I was outside when he jumped out the window, I heard his collar bell, and did go after him. Unfortunately it was already dark out and I had no idea where the flashlight was, so when he dove into the garage I let him stay there. The garage has no power and has been used as storage so it would have been a nightmare trying to get in there in pitch black. he had gotten out a couple times before, during the day though, and after an hour or so he’d always come running if called. Those of you that followed me closely know I’m very anti-indoor/outdoor cat due to the zillion safety risks. I wasn’t thrilled by any of this. Well I tried an hour later to get him in and he did not come. I sat down, watched a movie, and just as it ended it started storming. I went out looking for him, got soaked completely through my coat, got the flashlight from the roommate who was home by this point, and NOTHING. He was no longer in the garage, not in the yard, not under any of the cars, not at my mother’s around the corner, he simply vanished. I went a few hours later and checked again after it stopped raining, and nothing. Checked in the morning, nothing. Walked the neighborhood listening for his bell when I called, nothing. I put up fliers. I called every animal control, shelter, rescue, and vet in the area. Nothing. Brought the fliers to them even. Checked animal control and the local rescue in person several times, nothing. I had this cat for 10.5 years and he just vanished without a trace. I got to hoping that someone at least found him and was cruel enough to me and attached to him to keep him. He was half persian which is a desirable look. But at least in that situation he’d be alright. My roommate watch me go nuts for weeks never giving up. It all ended when I found out from this girl he liked and I never talked to (I guess he thought I never would, but I went to McD’s and we started up a convo though when we ran into each other) that my cat was dead. As it turns out my roommate’s friend a block away found him the day after the storm dead at the curb in the grass near his house. My poor cat ended up hit by a car in a thunderstorm and died alone and in pain, all because of stupid ass screens. Instead of giving me the closure, my roommate hid this shit from me. He apparently told the girl this saying he had to get it off his chest but didn’t want to upset me. Then when I confronted him, he denied it. But he’d lied to me about so many things since moving in I never believed him. I continued to bring it up regularly, until he finally got fed up and admitted it to me. He claimed he went to confirm that it was him, then came home for a bit before he went back to pick him up, only to find that the city had already removed him. I doubt it. So not only did I not get the closure, but I didn’t get to bury him or anything. He never intended to tell me. he watched me continue searching. Watched me gt into the neighbor’s car and go to animal control various times. So yeah... coming on here to see that my profile pic was still my poor cat landed me in some serious angst...

Then after Grandma passed and the new year started, my mother had a stroke. Just after grandma had had her two. Turns out she had lupis, and it did something to her heart and tissue tore, and some of that tissue pinged around in her brain. She didn’t lose any feeling, but her speech and some other things were affected for a couple weeks. Because it was the heart and lupis that ultimately caused it, they ended up having to put her on the proper meds, and she had to have open heart surgery to correct the tears. She has since recovered mostly.

Meanwhile I’ve been having a nervous breakdown and existential crisis the past years and it finally blew up to the point where I couldn’t function at all, barely left bed, slept an average of 14 hours and still woke up physically and mentally exhausted. I had lost a good 15lbs out in Wisconsin for 3 months but at this time I have since gained 30lbs. Enough was enough, I started having some seriously shitty thoughts, and I went and got a medical card and adulted, scheduling a shit ton of appointments. I’ve started getting my bad teeth fixed, the ones I suffered through for the past 6 years. My blood pressure is magically stable despite the massive amounts of stress. No diabetes, a miracle. All my bloodwork came back normal. They have me scheduled to check for a couple different cancers, as there’s several in my immediate family. They have me seeing a therapy lady 1-2 a month for anxiety and depression. My anxiety got so bad in all of this that I started breaking out into hives and rashes at random. They have me on anxiety meds now and while they’re still trying to figure out dosages it did completely get rid of the rashes. They want to see how I do on these before they decide how to address the depression. They said if I think I need it they can assign me to someone to see weekly, but really I’m taking baby steps. 

Past all angst and chaos I’ve really not done that much fandom related, and I feel I have to apologize even though I guess I sorta have a legitimate excuse? I did draw some things during my time out in Wisconsin. They’re inked and I had started coloring them but never did finish. I didn’t touch any of my fics, though I certainly don’t want to abandon them, it’s just been a bad time. I did however start on two actual novel-novels, one of which is probably 2/3 of the way through. It was honestly easier in all of this to write something outside of fandom.

As for what I’m currently into, I’m still a big BatFam fan, but I did get into the Marvel Cinematic universe, and several Marvel comic titles outside of that. For the most part not their big main people, I like a lot of the smaller characters and a lot of the alternative versions of main people. I also dove into Teen Wolf the past couple months and a I forgot how much anything werewolf related thrilled me, so it’s been a good time there.

Idk where I’m going from here. I waited to come back to tumblr until I had my own internet connection. I guess I’ll just have to see how things go. I did miss this site’s content quite a bit, and shit, I really missed a lot of the people on here even though I’m sure some of you are gone, and no one has the same profile pics anymore, and a lot of you have even changed your names, so things are confusing, but I’ll figure it out.

I’m glad to be back and I seriously hope I can finish pulled myself out of this hole.

~Vampy

[ryinkelsin]

I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder...

            I know what you’re thinking. I must be really clean right? I’m germaphobic. I will say that I’m clean but any more than a so called “normal” person. I do like things in a certain order. For example, my closet is organized to my specific liking but there’s so much more to Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Not all of us fear germs and are what you like to call neat freaks. It is fair to say that some do. I know there are other like myself who do compulsively clean but for me that side only really comes out at work. So here, I’m going to break down the truth about how my brain works for you. It’s much more than the stereotypes you’ve come to believe.

 OBSESSIVE

             For someone with OCD this is a word we are familiar with. We understand it more than the average person. So, here’s how it works. You’re going on about your day as normal when suddenly your mind shows you something that disturbs you. For example, sometimes when I enter a building I imagine my fingers being crushed in the door I’m walking through or when I’m cutting open boxes at work a flash image of slicing my hand open enters my mind. These pictures are called intrusive thoughts and I have to live with them daily. I’m sure the two I just mention don’t see that serious to you but that’s because of a few reasons.

First, those were some of the milder ones. I’ve had more disturbing ones, like my mom running over her dog. It never happened but I thought it would. Second, It’s not a one-time thing. The image or thought continues to show in your mind and the more you ignore it, the more persistent it becomes. It becomes something you start to fear. Once your mind creates this scenario there is no getting rid of it. It demands that you pay attention to it and you have no choice but to comply.

People who don’t fully understand always offer the advice ‘Just don’t think about it.’ That’s not as simple as it sounds and trust me if I could just not think about it I would but that isn’t an option for someone like me. I bet you’re still wondering where the word obsessive comes into play and it’s here. Basically this is all fear based. Your brain convinces you that this terrible thing will happen and you believe it whole heartily. Most of the time it’s something totally ridiculous, like the sun falling out of the sky and killing you. This isn’t actually one of my fears but you get the idea. You start to obsess over this thought until it becomes the only think you are able to think about. This leads to one of two things, a full blown panic attack or a compulsion. Neither thing is good.

 COMPLUSIVE

             Here’s where the cleaning stereotype comes into play. It’s not uncommon for someone to have a cleaning compulsion. I admit that on multiple occasions I’ve cleaned my entire apartment from top to bottom. Like the day I took everything out of the fridge, shelves and all, to clean it but not everyone has this exact compulsion. Mine tends to lean more towards organization. I know what you’re thinking and you’re wrong. Cleaning and organization are similar but they are not the same. For example, for Christmas my aunt gave me a bunch of her books. I spent twenty minutes trying to line them up exactly the way I needed them to be. Sometimes my brain says if it’s not perfect it’s wrong and it’ll will continue to bother you until you’ve fixed it. Another great example was dinner last night. I couldn’t eat my meal until the plate was exactly in the middle of the place mat and the fork and knife were even on each side of the plate. I also had to separate the food into perfect sections. Everything is a routine and everything has an order. There’s just no way around it. The thing about compulsions is, we don’t necessarily want to do them but we have to. Your brain tells you if you don’t line the books up straight something bad will happen. It all ties into your fears.

           Compulsions happen because it distracts your mind from the thing you are afraid of. If you’re focusing all your attention on deep cleaning behind the oven or locking and unlocking the door eleven times, you aren’t thinking about what you’re scared will happen. That’s why these habits and rituals become vital to our daily lives. I can honestly tell you that I have some compulsions that I don’t fully understand. For example, I have the extreme need to change my socks at least four times a day and I’m terrified of placing my barefoot on the floor. I also must have a rubber band around my wrist at all times. Why you ask. I have no idea. There is just a voice in my head that says I have to. This voice convinces me that something terrible will happen if I don’t have one. I once had a boss you told me I couldn’t wear them and had to take them off. I responded by saying no. Just the mere thought of taking them off made me feeling panicked, so I wasn’t going to actually do it.  

           The thing is we are completely aware that these routines are ridiculous. We wish just as much as you do that we didn’t have to perform them but the urge to do so it too strong to fight. As much as we hate it, we would much rather just perform the task and move on from it, then try to battle it. Fighting it just leads to a panic attack which is extremely unpleasant.

 PANIC ATTACKS

             For someone who has never experienced this, consider yourself lucky because it is hell. Your hands shake, your muscles tighten, you’re in tears and you can’t breathe. It literally feels like you’re suffocating at times. This is what happens, you get your intrusive thought, then your brain tells you what compulsion to do but you don’t do it. Instead you try to force the image to go away, which never usually works. This starts the panic throughout your body. Once you’ve reached that point there is no stopping it. No compulsion will make this go away because now you’ve sent your mind on a downward spiral. You feel every muscle in your body tense up and your breathing quickens to the point that you feel like your chest is caving in. It can literally feel like you’re dying and most of the time we actually think that is happening. I usually end up in the fetal position, bawling like an idiot and feeling like the world is crashing down around me.

           There are only a couple solutions when you’ve reached this state. You can either take antianxiety medication or suffer through it. Medication is a good quick fix but, at least in my case, those meds make me feel groggy. Suffering through it is brutal but possible. Anxiety doesn’t last forever. It will eventually peak and then go down. It’s getting there, that is the problem.

           The worst thing about anxiety, whether it is caused by OCD or some other anxiety disorder, is there isn’t always a reason for it happening. Sometimes panic attacks come out of nowhere. The worst thing you can do when dealing with someone going through this is ask them what’s wrong. There isn’t always a reason, which can actually make the attack worse. Once a random attack happens you start to panic more, simply because you don’t understand where it’s coming from. Then you’re panicking because you’re panicking. It makes no sense I know but it happens. The more you push on someone that there must be a reason, the more panicked they will become. Instead, help them feel secure. Tell them they are safe and that you’re there. Help them slow down their breathing. Those things are crucial.

For someone with OCD, the panic could be caused but a sudden loss of control. I have specific routines that I preform every day. When they aren’t performed in the right order or I miss something I’m thrown off. It causes an easiness I can’t shake. I become agitated and stressed. Control is a big part of OCD. We tend to micromanage every aspect of our lives and when it doesn’t go the way we planned it, we fall apart. Everything becomes increasingly overwhelming and we can’t handle it. I will say though there is a perk to being like this. I can time manage beautifully. Time management has a lot to do with having game plan, which I am a big fan of. Sometimes routines are helpful but most of the time for someone like myself, it starts to control your life.

 These are the daily struggles I have and hopefully now you understand that being clean doesn’t make someone OCD. So next time you say ‘I’m so OCD because I like my towels folded a certain way.’ Remember that’s not what OCD is. To be perfectly honest here, I do like my towels folded a specific way but unlike you if folded the wrong way it causes an uneasy/panic type feeling. I’m sure you just readjust them and move on. I will fold and refold until the feeling goes away. It’s not something you can just shove off. It’s so much more than that. Don’t judge us when we count things or avoid cracks in the sidewalks. Don’t tell us we are being stupid. We know it’s stupid but that doesn’t change the fact that we have to do it. Don’t tell us that it’s no big deal because to us it’s earth shattering.

It took me a while to get here but I’m no longer ashamed of my illness. I’ve learned that it’s just a part of who I am. I’m not the only one and there is help out there. Fortunately for me I have amazing family and friends who support me. I’ve explained this to multiple people that I know and they see my OCD differently. For those people who have taken the time to listen to us and try to actually understand, kudos to you. We need more people like you in the world.

For those people who laugh and respond by saying ‘I understand. I’m so OCD about (whatever it is that you’re particular about)’ You are not OCD. You don’t understand. Trust me, you don’t want the thoughts that I have and you honestly have no clue what you’re talking about. If you actually experienced what goes on in my head, you would wonder how I live through it every day. It’s difficult but I manage. It’s something you learn to handle over time, with the help of therapy, your support system, and/or medication.  

For those of you still suffering through this and trying yourself to understand please know you are not alone. There are lots of us and we understand. 

S3�0+��

[farmtastic-blog]

8.10.19

This is not the first blog entry I’ve tried to write since January. This app is a piece of shit and has lost more than one multiple-pages-long entry that I’ve written.

So here we are again.

I wish things were better. For a while they were ok. But I am somehow, more burned out than I was the last time I wrote. The PPD/PPA finally subsided, I got off the medication and was able to shake off all the side effects the meds brought with them. I’m down 14 lbs which feels good. But all the medical side effects and hormonal imbalance issues subsided and actual real-world dilemmas that pills can’t fix took their place.

Audie has been in a MISERABLE stage for months now. And it’s really unlucky that those miserable months with him also happen to have coincided with the months of the year I am always most miserable: summer. I hate summer. It’s not the weather that does me in. It’s the weather on top of the monotony. This is the second really. shitty. summer I’ve had with the kids. Audie’s barely-there preschool let out for the summer at Memorial Day weekend and doesn’t resume until after Labor Day weekend. Fuck me. All day. Every day. Both kids. No help. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do. Weather that’s too miserable to be out in, but pool trips that are off limits because I can’t safely manage an uncooperative 3 y/o and a barely-walking 1 y/o by myself in that environment. So we’ve largely stayed home and watched tv, or walked around Target, or played in the fart box play area at Chik-Fil-A.

He starts at a new preschool next week. So he’ll be at his original preschool for two hours on M/W, and his new preschool for two hours on T/Th. I guess I should rephrase. He *sort of* starts at a new preschool next week. Classes begin on Wednesday, so he’ll only be there for Thursday. And it’s a “transition day,” meaning I have to stay there with him to play in his classroom (with Eloise in tow, mind you) for one hour...then we leave. At least it will be something to do but the point is for THEM to take him and entertain him. I know all kids are not this way, but Audie doesn’t need a transition time...not for two hours of play 2 days a week. JFC just TAKE the child I’m paying $200 a month for you to ENTERTAIN. I’m burned out on the tantrums, the fighting, the screaming, the whining, the crying.

And that burnout is creeping into my marriage. Mitchell and I are basically not even speaking today and I hate it. But we both SO tired. We’re both SO over it with the kids. We never do ANYTHING just the two of us. Yesterday we got into it over the phone because Audie was being a shit and I lost my cool and Mitchell proceeded not to reply to any effort to smooth things out via text the rest of the day. I had to leave the house as soon as Mitchell got home...we literally didn’t even make eye contact or exchange words. I just left. Then when I got home he barely spoke to me or looked at me either. I was up until 3 in the morning with Audie, then I had to leave for therapy first thing in the a.m., same silent treatment. When I got home from therapy, he wasn’t home and I called him. He was icy. Single-word, single-syllable answers. So I told him the house was his and I’d see him whenever I got home tonight. But I won’t see him because he’ll already be in bed, and if he isn’t, I’ll be going straight to bed. So I’ll see him tomorrow. Except I won’t hardly. Tomorrow is church and I have some work to do starting at 11:30 that will keep me out for an hour or two then I’ll get home and we’ll find some fresh, new exciting way to ignore or avoid each other.

I feel so trapped, so cornered, and so used up. My only choices right now are to examine which option I hate the least. Do I hate being alone with the kids hour after hour after day after day after week after week more or less than the idea of working 40+ hours a week in some dick-sucking job at IU where my needs as a parent and nursing mother were neglected, even when I explicitly raised them to my supervisor? Which is worse? Drowning or dying of thirst?

I have tried being open with Mitchell about my concerns of where things stand. It never pans out. It never leads to productive conversation. More than once, the conversation has taken a turn down the “Do you want to move out?” allyway. I’d be lying if I hadn’t examined the salaries of some of the IU jobs I could apply for and explored the cost of rent.

When the job opportunity I pursued at USI didn’t pan out, it’s like I was robbed of a best case scenario. A salary that would pay what I deserve at this point in my career, in a position that at least aligns with my skill set and a portion of my interests, in a place where we would have access to family support (and thus, a place to send the kids even occasionally while we try to nurture and repair our marriage). But it evaporated. Into thin air.

I’m an angry, ugly version of myself and I hate it. And I see no way out without embracing an option I’ve already tried and also hated. It feels like Mitchell and I haven’t been married since Eloise was born (not because she was born, but the form life took after that point has been unlivable).

I told my therapist today. Having children has taken more from my life than it has added to it at this point. And I don’t know how to cope with that. I love my kids. But I hate this way of living.

[sending-the-message]

A former stalker has been texting me. She's been dead for a year. (Part 7) by Tiro1000

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

I wish I could say that the events of Tuesday were the highlight of my story.

I checked myself into the emergency room the next morning. At both of our insistence, Katie stayed with me the whole time. I’m not sure about her reasons, but I didn’t want her out of my sight. The staff began to protest, but let the subject drop when they realized it would be the only way they would treat me. I’ll save the full details of the visit, but here’s a summary:

My left hand is fucked. They tell me that I might get back full functionality with physical therapy, but they can’t be sure at this point. They had to cut some of the burned tissue from my face. It wasn’t the most pleasant process, but they seem to have it under control now. It’s definitely going to leave a scar. At least it should make for an interesting story. Luckily, the only damage Sean’s punch to my face left can only be fixed by a dentist. They found a contusion at the back of my head, presumably from whatever knocked me out. The doctors don’t think it did any terrible damage, but they gave me a list of things to look out for.

A couple bandages and a cast later, I was set loose. Uncle Rob was waiting for us at the exit. Despite everything, he greeted me with a hug. “You’re alright.” He told me. I don’t think he was expecting to see me like that. It was nice to be around someone who I could count on to stay on my side.

“Uncle Rob,” I said, gesturing to Katie once he let me go, “This is--”

“We’ve met.” He said, holding out his hand for Katie to shake. She did. “How you holding up?”

“Alright. I think.” Katie said shyly.

“Good. I need you both to come with me to the station.”

“That works.” I said, having already known this was coming. “Can’t drive now anyway, pain meds and all.”

“Hold on.” Katie interjected. “Why do I need to go?”

We both looked at her. Uncle Rob was the first to answer. “Because Eric here thinks you have some new information on your sister’s death.” She seemed to pull back at that. I could tell she was scared at the idea.

I put my hand on her shoulder. “Katie, if there’s anything you’ve been hiding, now is the time.” Uncle Rob nodded in agreement. “It’s okay. You can trust us.” She was still hesitant about talking, but she agreed to at least come to the station.

The interview room wasn’t what you’d expect after all of the crime dramas showing the same room. No one way mirror for people to observe behind. It was just a white unadorned room with a desk, some chairs, and a camera in the corner to record the conversations. Uncle Rob had told me to sit tight while they prepare to interview me on what happened. “Just tell them what you told me.” He instructed before leaving. “Tell the truth and stick to the facts.”

I wasn’t waiting too long before the door opened again, in walking Detective Ramirez. Steve Ramirez was another old friend of my dad’s. I’ve met him at family barbecues, and even have played video games with his son from time to time. But he never was close enough to be called an uncle. Regardless, I felt like I could trust him. “Steve.” I said as I shook his hand. “Where’s Uncle Rob?”

“Detective Combs insisted that I be the one to interview you; said this could be related to another case of mine.” He said as he sat across from me, setting a folder on the table.

I nodded. Steve took over for my Uncle Rob when he recused himself from Beth’s case. “I believe it does.”

“Alright then,” he said, “tell me what happened last night.” He took notes as I recounted everything that happened in my apartment, leaving out only the part about Beth saving me. I told him that ‘Mikey’ collapsed to the ground right as he was about to slice my eyes out, and didn’t move after that. “So after you freed yourself, why did you run?”

“I already told you that Sean was going after Katie. I had to get her out of there.”

“So you left because you thought she was in some kind danger?” He asked.

“Yes.” I answered.

“And why do you believe that?”

“Because he killed his other daughter.” I said plainly. This struck a cord with him. He tossed his pen on the table with a sigh, then leaned back. I remembered Uncle Rob telling me to stick to the facts. “At least that’s what I believe. I wanted to prove it, so I asked Katie for help. I think that’s why he came to my apartment, and why he wanted to get to her afterwards.”

“Why do you think he killed his daughter, Eric?” He asked with a stare.

“Something Beth told me.” I answered. “She said that he was abusive, both physically and sexually.” It still wasn’t easy to say it out loud.

“Beth told you that? Beth McDonnell?” He said.

“She did.” I said without elaborating. I hoped he would assume I meant before she died. It seemed to work.

“Why are you saying this now? She died a year ago, Eric, why did you sit on this for so long?” I didn’t answer. I didn’t know how. Steve sighed. “Eric, his alibi checked out. So unless we have reason to believe that not only him, but the people he was with lied to us, there isn’t much we can do there.” He picked up his pen again, making notes. “Regardless, if what you say is true about last night, we have probable cause to charge him with aggravated assault, unlawful imprisonment, and conspiracy to commit murder.”

“You believe me?” I asked, actually surprised.

“As much as I can, Eric. You should have seen the stuff that guy had with him. It was shit straight out of a thriller novel. I’d say you’re lucky you got away.”

I let out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank you, Detective.”

He waved me off casually. “Eric, you’ve never called me Detective. Don’t start today.” I used to dislike the familiarity that the police department has had with me because of my dad. At that time though, I appreciated it.

I nodded. “Thanks Steve. Am I free to go?”

“Technically yes, but I’d like to ask that you stay on the premises while we pull up a warrant and see if we can make an arrest. For your safety.”

“Right.”

“And the autopsy report for your guy should be in soon. I’d like to verify there was no foul play with him before turning you loose.”

“Fair enough.” I got up to leave, then the question came to me. “Are you going to talk to Katie?”

“Is there a reason we should?” Steve asked.

I nodded to him as I stepped into the hall. “If you want to know what really happened to Beth McDonnell, she’s the first person you should ask.”

“Eric, we’ve already talked to her. If she has any new information, she needs to come to us.”

“Alright.” I said. “Leave that to me.”

I found Katie in the back lot, taking a long drag from a cigarette. “I didn’t know you smoked.” I said to her as I approached.

“Started last year.” She said. “Had to keep it a secret. Dad would have killed me if he--” She stopped herself. “Sorry. Poor choice of words.”

“It’s alright.” We stood there in silence for a moment as she continued to smoke. She seemed nervous, taking long sucking drags. “Katie...”

“You want me to talk to them, don’t you?” She said without looking at me.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s something you haven’t told me. Something you haven’t told anyone. I can tell.”

She took a deep shuddering breath. I could tell this was weighing on her. She looked on the verge of tears. “Is this what Beth wants you to tell me?”

I wasn’t expecting that. “What?”

“I know she’s here, Eric! I heard her voice when you came to get me. She told me to go with you. I’ve felt her this whole time.”

I was at a loss for words. Should I tell her? I put my hand on her shoulder. “I think she wants you to do the right thing.” I said gently.

I could see her lip quiver as she held herself together. She dropped her cigarette, smothering it out with her foot. “Alright,” she said as her voice cracked, “I’ll talk to them.”

Beth: You did great.

I chuckled to myself.

Me: In the interrogation room? Or with Katie?

Beth: Both.

This was the first chance I had all day to talk to Beth. After our... moment, I submitted the last part, then we told each other goodnight. I had been wanting to talk to her about it, but decided against bringing it up right away. I had also elected to keep our conversation to texting. I didn’t think me having a conversation with a phone would have gone over so well in the break room.

Me: About last night...

Beth: Yes?

I imagined a sultry teasing voice in my head. I began to ask about it before a knock on the door interrupted my typing. I turned to see Uncle Rob standing in the doorway. “Hey.” I said.

“Hey Eric. I have something to show you.” Before I could even raise my eyebrow in question, he was already walking down the hall. I followed him down to a side room by the interview rooms. Steve was waiting for us. He nodded to me as he opened the door. I hesitantly followed them inside. There were multiple monitors set up, showing the different interview rooms. The other side of the one way mirror.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“You need to see this.” Steve answered. He clicked play for one of the monitors. It showed Katie sitting in the interview room, talking with Steve. The date and time showed that this was recorded the same day.

“I knew there was something going on between them,” Katie said with a shaky voice, “but I was always too afraid to ask.”

“Afraid of what?” Steve asked.

“Of getting involved.” She said. “I saw the way he looked at her, but he didn’t pay any attention to me. I thought if I left them alone, it would stay that way.” She shuddered. “I hated myself so much for thinking that, especially after...” She started weeping. Steve reached over to put his hand on her forearm. He handed her a tissue, and after a moment she composed herself. “Sorry.” She said.

“It’s alright.” Steve told her. “And after she died? Did he ever...”

She shook her head. “No. I’ve caught him looking at me, but he never tried.”

Steve nodded, giving her a moment. I looked over at the two detectives next to me, who were watching the recording intently. “Should I be watching this? Isn’t this against--”

“Quiet.” Uncle Rob cut me off. I complied, turning back to the screen.

“Is there something else you wanted to tell us?” The Steve on the screen asked.

She looked nervous, like there was something she wanted to get off her chest but was too scared to. “My parents... They told you they stayed at a friend’s house that night.”

Steve nodded, checking the notes. “Yes. They said they had too much to drink after dinner.”

“I called her that night.” Katie closed her eyes, going over that last hurdle. “My parents were home.”

I could see the shock in Steve’s face on the screen. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I heard my dad talking in the background. I think it’s why she didn’t want me to come home.”

Steve paused the recording. Both he and Uncle Rob had wide grins on their faces. “We’re reopening the case.”

“Holy shit.” I muttered as I stared at the screen. Then it hit me. “Holy shit!”

Uncle Rob brought me back to the break room for some coffee. We were both excited about Beth’s case being reopened, but he knew he had a long night ahead of him. Word had gotten back that the officers who went to Seans’s house found it abandoned. Uncle Rob wasn’t surprised. He expected Sean to run. “We’re arranging protective details for both you and Kaitlyn.”

“Fair enough.” I said.

“Eric.” Uncle Rob said as he put a hand on my shoulder. “I want you to reconsider your career path.”

I scoffed. “This again?”

He nodded. “Eric, you came to me to ask about this case because of a gut feeling. Then you talked to a potential witness. Then you sacrificed greatly to rescue her.” He set his coffee down and put his other hand on my other shoulder, turning me to face him. “Eric, you reopened a year old case! Screw your other job, this is where you belong!” I didn’t do it alone though. I had a partner from the other side. Regardless, I was for once considering it.

But there was something bothering me. I pulled away from him. This elephant had been following me room to room since the day I read the report. “Uncle Rob?”

“What is it?” He asked.

“I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me.” My phone vibrated in my pocket, but I decided to ignore it for the moment.

“Alright.” He said, his expression concerned.

My phone vibrated again. Must have been important. I pulled it up to check as I asked. “On the autopsy report for Beth. It said she was...” I trailed off as I read the text, my heart stopping.

Beth: SHE’S GONE!

My eyes went wide. “Where is Katie!?” I asked frantically.

His concern grew. “Last I checked, outside having a cigarette.” I bolted past him into the hall. “Eric!” He called after me. I sprinted down the hall to the back exit, shoving the door to the back lot open.

The officer outside the door looked surprised. “I gotta go.” He said into his cell phone. “Everything alright sir?” He asked me.

“Where is she!?”

“Excuse me?” He asked.

I moved past him. “Katie!” I shouted. I frantically checked around the lot, but no one else was there. I looked back and saw Uncle Rob exit the building. “She’s gone!” I told him.

His eyes went wide. He looked to the officer who was on his phone. “Where’s the fucking witness, Jenkins!?” The officer was speechless, so Uncle Rob answered for him. “Get inside, tell the chief to lock down the building! We need to find her!”

“Right!” Jenkins said as he went back inside.

“She’s not here!” A voice yelled from my pocket. I pulled my phone out. A look of utter confusion was on Uncle Rob’s face.

“Beth, do you know where she is?” I asked the phone.

“Yes.” She said. “It was Andrew. They’re driving east.”

“GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!” I shouted.

“What the fuck is this!?” Uncle Rob asked with astonishment.

“No time to explain, we have to go! Now!”

He considered for only a moment. “Fuck. Let’s go.”

“Dispatch, One-David-Five. We are responding to a Two-Oh-Seven in progress. We have reason to believe the suspect is heading eastbound on Elverta Avenue.” I only understood half of that, but I got the gist.

“Ten-Four One-David-Five.” The dispatcher’s voice said over the radio. We sped down the road, sirens blaring, red and blue lights reflecting off the dark street.

“Beth, do you still have them?” I asked.

“Yes, take the next left.”

“Next left.” Uncle Rob repeated. “After this is done, we need to have a long talk!”

“Noted.”

“Open the glove box.” He instructed.

I did as I was told. Inside the glove box was a pistol. “What is this?”

“It’s a gun Eric. I think you know how to use it.” I was starting to wonder if Uncle Rob was a great cop or a terrible cop.

“I don’t know about this.” I told him.

“If things get ugly, I don’t want you unarmed.”

“Right.” Beth said.

“Why are you agreeing with--”

“NO! TURN RIGHT!”

“Shit!” Rob exclaimed as he made a sharp right turn.

Deciding it was a terrible time to argue, I grabbed the pistol and checked the safety. “Beth, how close are we?”

“Should be coming up... Oh shit! I lost them!”

“What do you mean you lost them!?” I asked her.

“I can’t see them, Eric!”

“Where did you see them last?”

She didn’t answer for a moment. “Two intersections ahead, they made a right.” I looked where she said.

“Franklin Cemetery?” That was where Beth was buried.

“Is that what it is?” She asked.

“Yeah.” I replied. “You can’t see it?”

“No... It’s a white blur. Like the church.”

“Hey!” Uncle Rob snapped. “This is all very fascinating, but we’re a little busy right now!” I quickly nodded.

As soon as we made the turn, the default synthetic voice came up. “Eric, I can’t go in. I’m stuck outside. Be careful!”

“Shit...” I muttered. We traveled up the dark winding road through the cemetery. I was nervous. It was dark. I didn’t have Beth to help me. I was afraid we already lost Katie.

And then we saw them. A white van stopped on the side of the road with a green sedan next to it. Uncle rob slowed the car, pulling his radio up. “Dispatch, One-David-Five. I’m 10-97 at Franklin Cemetery with a white Ford cargo van and a blue Saturn sedan. Eleven-Ninety-Six, please send backup.” As we stopped, the back door of the van opened. Out came Sean fucking McDonnell. “Shit!” Uncle Rob muttered as he stopped. “Stay low and stay behind the door. Come on!” He opened his door, ducking behind it for cover. I did the same. “Police!” He yelled. “Show me your hands!”

Sean slowly raised his hands above his head as he turned. The surprise on his face was mild at best. He looked more annoyed than anything. “Take three steps forward, and turn around.” Uncle Rob commanded. Sean did exactly as was told. “Get on your knees, and put your hands on your head!” When Sean complied, Uncle Rob stepped out from behind the door and approached Sean; his gun trained the whole time.

Something felt wrong. “Uncle Rob.” I said.

“Eric, focus! Keep an eye out for me, watch my back!”

“Oh,” Sean said smugly, “Eric’s here?”

“Shut up!” He snapped as he grabbed Sean’s wrist. “Sean McDonnell, I’m placing you under arrest for the kidnapping--”

“Uncle Rob!” I shouted as I felt something cold and firm press against the back of my head.

“Don’t move.” A familiar voice behind me ordered. Andrew.

Uncle Rob turned to look at me, face pale. We locked eyes for just a moment before Sean grabbed his wrist and pulled it up. Before I could process anything, Sean had pulled a gun and fired two shots into Uncle Rob’s torso. In the span of a breath, Uncle Rob was on the ground.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Andrew yelled from behind me.

“We need to go. Take care of yours.” Sean answered as he pointed his gun at Uncle Rob to finish him off. I didn’t have time to think before acting. I jabbed hard behind me with my elbow, pain shooting up my arm as I hit something. Andrew gagged with pain as I brought my pistol up and fired at Sean. I didn’t hit him, but he did scramble into the van. The tires screeched as he pulled away. I turned around, but didn’t see Andrew. By the time I turned again, the van was out of sight.

I reached inside Uncle Rob’s car, grabbing the radio. “Officer down! Franklin Cemetery!” I then ran over to Uncle Rob. He was alive, thankfully. He clenched two spots on his lower chest and abdomen, blood seeping through his fingers. With shaky hands, I tried to take over. He stopped me.

“Go!” He said. “Go after him!” He gestured with his head toward the row of graves to our left. I muttered a curse as I left him there to find Andrew.

I walked down the rows and rows of graves. The ground was dark, only lit dimly by the crescent moon in the sky. This was a terrible idea, and I wanted to go back to help Uncle Rob. But something was urging me on, pulling me. I followed the feeling until it tugged at me, like it was trying to pull me into the ground. I looked down and saw a grave lit in the moonlight with a fresh red rose on it. Bethany McDonnell. “Oh god.” I muttered.

“Drop the gun.” A shaky voice said behind me with a click. With a shuddered sigh I complied, dropping it. “Turn around.” I raised my hands over my head, slowly turning. I was met with a barrel being pointed at my forehead. It was hard to see the man behind the gun, but I knew it was Andrew. He took a hard breath. “I don’t want to do this.”

“It’s okay.” I told him. “You don’t have to do anything.” I sounded calm, but it was false. I was shaking.

“I’m sorry.” He said. Once again, I thought to myself ‘this is it.’ Then we heard the wail of sirens in the distance. “Shit...” He said.

I used the moment of distraction to tackle the man. We both fell to the ground, me on top of him. He grabbed at my face as I punched him. He brought his gun up, and I slammed his arm down right as it went off. The sound was deafening and left my ears ringing as we struggled. I slammed my cast down on his wrist as hard as I could until the gun slipped from his hand. My jaw shocked with pain as he got a punch in. He then rolled us over, with him on top. I blocked his few attempts to hit me in the face, and quickly brought my knee up into his groin. He was stunned, and I took the opportunity to throw him off me.

I looked around quickly and saw the glint of my gun on the ground. I leapt for it. As soon as it was in my hand, I rolled onto my back and aimed at him. Both of our guns went off at the same time. I heard a muffled ceramic crack as the bullet whizzed past my head into Beth’s tombstone, and I saw Andrew fall.

My arms fell to my side and I inhaled heavily to catch my breath as the sirens drew closer.

Me, Steve, and what must have been the entire Police force waited in dreadful anticipation at the hospital. The last we heard, Uncle Rob was being rushed into surgery; his condition critical. Beth was hysterical when she saw me. Aside from telling her I was okay, I didn’t say anything else. I could feel her though, by my side as I waited.

I saw Steve walk over to me, taking the seat next to mine. “How you holding up?” He asked. It was a good question. Earlier that day, I had been ready to turn down yet another one of Uncle Rob’s attempts to get me to be a cop. Over the past week, I just wanted to ask him about the pregnancy. I had betrayed his trust and took a police report without asking. I went to him because I thought he could help me. I used him, I took him for granted. And now, I wasn’t even sure if I could talk to him again. It’s funny how you don’t realize how important some things are until you are on the verge of losing them. I didn’t know that I cared this much about him. I realized as I waited, that Uncle Rob was the father I didn’t have since my dad died.

“Pretty shitty actually.” I said with a tearful chuckle.

Steve put his hand on my shoulder. “He’ll pull through.” We waited for what must have been hours before the surgeon stepped into the waiting area. Uncle Rob made it. A sense of relief washed over the room as the cops celebrated and comforted each other. A few of them hugged. I had asked if I could go see him. They allowed it, but informed me that they were keeping him under until his condition stabilized more.

It was heart wrenching seeing him in that bed, hooked up to cables, iv lines, and tubes. Beth and I sat there in silence for a moment, until I told him I was sorry; for everything. I promised him that if he pulled through, I would apply for the academy. And I promised him I would catch the bastard who did this.

“How is he?” Steve asked as I stepped back into the waiting room.

“Resting.” I said as an exaggeration. “Anything new from...”

“No.” He said. “We put an APB on the van, but nothing has turned up. I’m going to make an official statement to the press tomorrow morning, try to get the public’s help.”

I nodded. “What about Andrew?” Andrew was taken into custody and was now being treated for a gunshot wound to the shoulder. Despite the blatant violation of many regulations, Steve congratulated me on a good shot. I aimed for his head.

“He’s not talking to us.” He said with a sigh.

���Let me try.” I said.

He stared at me, then scoffed with a shake of his head. “I’m not your Uncle, Eric. I’d like to see you become a cop too, but I’m not going to play fast and loose with protocol to get you interested.”

“This isn’t about that.” I told him. “Every second we waste, Sean McDonnell gets farther and farther away; along with our chances of ever getting Kaitlyn back alive.”

He held his stare. I could tell that he really didn’t want to do this. “Come on.” He said. “But this is the only time.”

“You have ten minutes.” He told me as the closed the door behind me. The room was emptied out with the exception of a single gurney. The red haired man stared up at me in terror as I approached him, struggling against his restraints.

“Don’t worry,” I said to him in spite, “I’m not a murderer.”

“I didn’t kill anyone!” He said.

“Yeah? You think the crowd of cops out there are going to give a shit that you didn’t pull the trigger?” He cringed at the statement. “We’re going to find Sean with or without your help, and your only chance is to help us.”

“Fat chance.” He said. “He’s probably switched cars again twice since you shot me. You’ll never see him again.”

My phone vibrated as he spoke. I checked it.

Beth: Let me talk to him.

I sighed as I read the message. Part of me thought it was a terrible idea, but we were running out of time. I pulled the phone off silence, then held it up to him. “Andrew.” Her voice said. “It’s Beth.”

His eyes went wide for a moment, then he laughed. “What the fuck is this!? A fucking joke!?”

“My dad brought you over for your seventeenth birthday.” She recounted. “As a present, he was going to let you have your way with me. You’re the only one who’s ever refused.” His eyes went wide again as she continued. My heart sank as she told the story. “Instead, we spent the night playing video games in my room. You were kind. I know despite what my father has taught you, part of you wants to do the right thing. Andrew, do the right thing now.”

“Why did he do that for you?” I asked, hoping to get him to open up about something.

He remained silent for a moment as guilt clawed at his throat. “He’s my father.” He said with shuddered words. “It’s the only reason why I learned anything from him.” I gave him a moment to gather himself.

“What did you learn from him?” I asked.

“How to make people disappear. It’s what he and Mikey did together. He would help the living disappear, and Mikey would...”

“Mikey would help the dead disappear.” I finished for him.

He nodded, waiting a moment before continuing. “I was supposed to bring Kaitlyn to the cemetery. I don’t know why we were meeting there, but Margaret insisted.” Beth’s mother. Fuck. She was in on it. “He always listens to her, says she knows how to get out of any situation.”

“Where did they take her?” I asked. He didn’t answer.

“Andrew,” Beth said, “You know that if we don’t take her away, he’ll do the same things to her that he did to me. Or worse.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “He said we were going to a cabin in the mountains. Wait out the storm until they could safely move somewhere else, as other people.”

“Do you know where this cabin is?” I asked. He shook his head.

“Thank you, Andrew.” Beth said. “You did the right thing. Let’s go, Eric.”

I wanted to tell him that I didn’t forgive him for what he did. I wanted to tell him that I still wanted him dead for what happened to Uncle Rob. “Tell the detective everything you told me.”

“I will.” He said as he laid back in the bed.

Steve was surprised to see me step out of the room before the time was up. “So?” He asked.

“He should be willing to talk now. Sean took Kaitlyn to a cabin in the mountains. He doesn’t know where it is though.”

Steve grinned and slapped me on the back. “It’s more than we had before. One of these days, you’ll have to tell me your secret.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I did.” I waited until Steve had gone into the room before leaving down the hall. “Beth,” I said, “do you know where the cabin is.”

“I do.” She answered.

I caught myself smiling. She's the best. “Let’s go get your sister.”

Over the past few days, the news has been talking about Uncle Rob and Sean. Police forces around the state have been searching for him, and some even over the state line. The patrols in this town have increased significantly from what I imagine. Beth says that the trek out to Sean’s cabin should take just over an hour from where we are now. Tonight is the night. Either I will get Kaitlyn to safety, or I will die trying and join Beth in the next life. If you hear from me again, you’ll know which one has happened.

I don’t know anything about those of you who have been reading my story. How many of you believe in a life after death, how many of you believe in a god. If you do, please pray for us. Pray for my Uncle Rob. Pray for Kaitlyn McDonnell. Pray for Beth.

I don’t know what I’m walking into. For all I know I am outnumbered and out-gunned. The odds may be unanimously stacked against me. All I have is a seventy year old gun and a ghost who won’t let anything bad happen to me. Beth is adamant that nothing will keep her away. I have my stalker by my side. Wish us luck.

[allenmendezsr]

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    If you are suffering from plantar fasciitis this is the most important letter you will ever read.

Here is why: I will spill the beans about a method that has the power to completely eliminate foot pain in just minutes…and… all you need are your own hands.

What’s more…this is just one part of a holistic system that has already helped hundreds to cure plantar fasciitis for good.

“…after the first day I already saw improvement.”

“Being a hairdresser I have to spend all day on my feet. I only made it through the day with lots of NSAIDs. Those ruined my digestion. My apartment was a wreck because after my job all I could do was lying down. I felt so helpless. I tried your speed cure and after the first day I already saw improvement. Incredible! Now I’m off the meds for weeks, all my pain is gone and my customers comment on how happy I suddenly am. You saved my life! Nancy”

–– Nancy Rodiguez, Red Bank, NJ

“…within a week I was completely pain free!”

“When I found your site I was ready for surgery. The constant pain almost made me lose my mind. I was a scared, physical and mental wreck. Your system works so well I couldn’t help myself but to write and thank you personally. The results I’ve been getting speak for themselves – within a week I was completely pain free! Keep up the good work, Joseph”

– Joseph Bratcher, Mill Valley, CA

“I am 100% better, pain free and PF seems like a nightmare I woke up from.”

“Dear Emma, getting your system wrote the last chapter in my endless PF story. I’ve been to countless doctors, got sick from all the meds and yes, my feett HURT. The pain got so bad I had to take pills every 12 hours together with nausea med not to thow them up. It was BAD. I followed your system to the T and now I may possibly be the happiest person in Wisconsin. I am 100% better, pain free and PF seems like a nightmare I woke up from. Can’t thank you enough! Olivia”

– Olivia Fisher, UK

But who am I and why should you listen to me?

My name is Emma Eccles. I’m not a professional ad writer. But what I have to share with you is so important, I had to write you myself. So please bear with me a little.

In over three years of trials and many disappointments I have developed a fail-save system anyone can follow that not only relieves chronic foot pain…but permanently eliminates plantar fasciitis.

After hundreds of success stories I’m so sure that it will work for anyone…I am offering you a 60 days, full money back guarantee that it will cure your condition as well. Not only will your foot pain be a thing of the past, you will be completely healed and never ever suffer from plantar fasciitis again.

All you need to do is plug into this proven system so you know exactly what to do. You don’t have to think about anything. Just follow the simple plan and you will experience relief of your pain within days…in light cases as little as hours!

How It All Started

I was 40 years old and very busy. My job in a restaurant wasn’t always easy. And my kid needed her mom to take care of her. I had little time for myself but I never complained. I like being there for people.

I still remember that one Sunday morning. The day before had been crazy. It was a wedding party we served. Those are usually the worst. Now, don’t get me wrong…I love weddings just like the next person…but…serving those parties is madness. Lots of people, lots of orders, and they always last until the wee hours.

I was on my feet all day. Rushing back and forth between guests and kitchen. My feet were tired but I just pushed through as I always do. I ignored the mounting pain. I had a job to do.

The next day I woke up with a surprise. My feet still hurt.I did not think much of it. I was sure the pain would go away just like it always had. Little did I know…

I Was In For A Trip To Hell

The pain lessened by the evening. Everything seemed to be ok. Than came the next morning…and the pain was back. In fact it wasn’t just back. It got worse. I still wasn’t worried though. I still thought things would work themselves out.

It took a week for this bubble to burst. When the first thing you feel after getting up is pain… not once…not twice…but every day of the week you know something is WRONG. However I was as clueless as the next person about the cause. Maybe a heel spur, I thought.

I made an appointment with my doctor. Certainly this was easy to fix….just like all the other conditions I had until than. How wrong I was!

My doctor listened to my story. He seemed as clueless as me. So he sent me off to get some x-rays. The x-rays didn’t help him much. But that was not what he told me. He just said it wasn’t anything serious…no broken bones. I’d probably recover fast. I reminded him of my pain. He prescribed me Vioxx. Thanks God I did not stay on it…or I might be dead by now!

A week later I was back. No improvement. If I did not take the pills I was in pain. My doctor tried to calm me down. It would all work itself out. But I was having none of it. I’m on my feet all day. I need to get well…FAST…I told him. He sent me off to a specialist.

My next stop was a podiatrist. He gave me the diagnosis: plantar fasciitis. Didn’t mean anything to me. He advised night splinting my foot. The splint was so uncomfortable I could hardly sleep at night.

By Now I Had Hot Burning Pain All Day

The night splint didn’t do anything for me. I had switched to Ultram because the pain got worse…and my ankle had started to hurt as well. The podiatrist wasn’t much help. His advice was the usual: Rest your feet, do some stretching and you will get well soon. If it had been only that easy!

I couldn’t lie in bed all day. Who can? And those exercises hurt. In fact it was as though the pain would laugh at me. It wouldn’t let me go. Like a shadow it was following me everywhere I went. I was getting more and more desperate. In tears I begged my doctor for a cortisone shot. That ankle shot was the most gut wrenching pain ever…and that’s coming from someone who gave birth!

Still it seemed to be worth it…after the injection I was actually pain free. I felt like singing and dancing. However just 10 days later I had a rude awakening: The pain returned…and with all its might! Not only was I disappointed…I was devastated! In fact…

I was Ready To Cut My Foot Off

But before I went on a merry-go-round of doctors and specialists. My thinking was simple: There just had to be someone who could help me. I was ready to listen to anyone who seemed to be qualified to give me advice….and lots of people thought they were.

My experience was that pretty much everyone had something to say. If I had a dime for every advice on how to treat plantar fasciitis…I’d be sipping champagne at the beach by now! For months I followed one recommendation after the next…

Orthodics that cost me $400

Gel pads, cups, cushions, inserts, you name it

Reflexology

Reiki

Aromotherapy

Physiotherapy

Deep Heat Rubs

Nonsteriodal anti-inflamatory durgs (NSAIDs)

But NOTHING worked.

All my friends were already tired of hearing about the condition. So I went under the knife. The first night after the surgery was rough, no lying about that. No wonder. They had removed scar tissue from around my nerve, thinned my plantar fascia and even sawed off some bone spurs. It felt like it wasn’t too far from having my foot cut off.

I thought it a miracle when they put me off pain meds just three days later. The next 2 months I spent on crutches – using my foot was off limits. What followed were 2 more months in a boot and then physical therapy. Was it worth all that? Well…all those months during recovery I was pain free…but…

What Doctors Don’t Tell You

Now my story could be over right here. Another prime example of the miracles of modern medicine.I so wish it would have. No one talks about what that recovery really means. It’s almost like being a baby again. You can hardly move and when youdo …you are sloooow. Driving is out of the question. You either have someone who takes care of you…or you are screwed.

And don’t think this situation will be over in a heartbeat. It drags on for months…all the muscle on your legs disappear…and at the end of it…you basically need to learn to walk again. If you love sports it will break your heart.

By the time I had suffered from plantar fasciitis for over a year so I was ready to take it all…If only the pain would disappear! It seemed as though it had – so I did not complain. That came later.

A month after physical therapy I hit rock bottom. I was finally back on my feet…finally bening able to do what I wanted without asking for help…when I found myself back at square one. I woke up with the hot burning pain I was assured would never return.

There’s an ugly truth about plantar fasciitis surgery doctors don’t want you to know: The success rate can be as low as 30%. Even with a great specialist every 5th patient gets no relief whatsoever from surgery. Thinking about how none of the doctors ever bothered to mention this still makes my blood boil.

The plantar fasciitis operation is often called the last way out. However…all too ofen this way proves to be a dead end. Just imagine what you would tell your bank if they’d recommend a “save investment” that comes with a risk of 70% of losing all your money. If there’s a proven way to stop plantar fasciitis…surgery certainly is not it.

When Everything Fails

Now when the going gets tough – and it dosen’t get much tougher than being a “hopeless case”…suffering from pain all day every day…with no options left – most people give up. Just try to live with it. Because what can you do?

But I have never been a quitter and living with this horrible pain for the rest of my life simply wasn’t an option. Not for my own sake…and not for the sake of my daughter you needs a healthy mother to take care of her.

I needed to make a last ditch effort…start my own research – deep research that leaves no stone unturned. I was firing on all cylinders…went to all the forums I could find online…bought all the books about the subject…watched all the videos on YouTube…and even digged into those scientific articles you need to read three times and still understand only half of it.

I turned myself into a human guinea pig and nothing was too strange for me to try. Almost everything turned out to be a huge waste of my time and money. However some of the techniques seemed to help. It was a small glimpse of hope – enough to keep me going.

Light at the End of the Tunnel

I mixed together everything that brought results…combined it in all possible ways…and for the first time since my operation…my pain went away!

I had struck gold.

Something about the combination of rest periods, special taping and short series of light exercises brought that relief nothing else had.

I don’t think anyone who hasn’t suffered from plantar fasciitis can ever imagine what it feels like to stand on your feet…and not feel a hot, burning pain. It literally feels like being reborn.

What would you do if you escaped your misery? What would you do if your feet would finally be pain-free? For me it was catching up. I enjoyed all the things I had been missing the last years. Amazing!I

However…after some time I began to wonder…

Does this system work for anybody else?

I went back to the forums I used to visit and got in touch with other plantar fasciitis victims….asked around who was willing to follow in my footsteps and try the approach that had healed me. A lot of people raised their hand.

There was only one problem…I had no way of showing people what to do. Explaining even simple exercises in words is awfully complicated. And with a condition so serious you want to make certain you do the right thing.

I thus decided to make some brief videos for people to see what to do. A friend of mine produces videos for a living and I got him to help me out. Together we made 13 professional videos showing everything there is to do. I also wrote up a manual explaining the exact treatment plan.

I sent the entire package out to people for free… responded to all the questions they had. And they had a lot. The initial descriptions confused people. I had to rewrite them….again and again…until they made sense for everyone.

The questions got less and less…and instead…I started receiving feedback on the results. Glowing testimonials of average people that thought nothing could cure their plantar fasciitis…before they tried my system.

Here are just a few of the reports I received…and still receive…on an almost daily basis:

“Since I started your program…my pain is almost gone.”

“Dear Emma, I can’t thank you enough for you system! I suffered from pf for over a decade and I thought I had tried everything (not counting going under the knife). The only thing that kept that pain at bay was accupuncture which was costing me $50 a session. With the one session a week that was $200 a month and all for temporary relief. Since I started your program three weeks ago my pain is almost gone. I’m still in disbelief. I already saved over $100 on accupuncture and during these times that means a lot to me. Much love, Christal”

– Chrystal Smith

“Your system has succeeded where every doctor failed.”

“Hi, for the first time in the last 10 months I was no longer afraid to get out of bed. Usually I knew the hot, throbbing pain would await me once I set my heel down but not this time. Your system has succeeded where every doctor failed – not only treating but curing my plantar fasciitis. I’ll be forever grateful for this miracle. Yours truly, Steven”

– Steven Clegg

“…my pain is about 75% gone and I just started your program.”

“Emma, I started on your program a few days ago and I am already seeing significant improvements. Incredible! You know more about plantar fasciitis than all the doctors I have been to. Not only didn’t they know how to to help me, they belittled my pain, tried to pump me full of meds, diagnosed a stress fracture (x-rays prove otherwise) and even implied I was had a mental disorder! Now my pain is about 75% gone and I just started your program. I can’t thank you enough for sharing this information! Valery”

– Valery Martin

What most people commented on was how easy the system was to follow. Especially including trigger points into my approach had a huge impact in lessening and even eliminating the pain in just minutes.

Trigger points are small contraction knots in the muscles of the body. More and more research confirms that these knots can cause a variety of aches and pain in the body. Let me tell you why this matters to you…

What REALLY Causes Your Pain

If you have been to countless doctors and none was able to successfully treat your plantar fasciitis…you might actually not suffer from plantar fasciitis at all! Muscle contractions in certain areas of your body can cause pain that is easily mistaken for plantar fasciitis.

Despite the fact that these trigger points have been discovered more than 60 years ago many doctors are still completely in the dark about them. The good news is that you don’t even need a physician to treat pain triggered this way. Once you know how, you can be your own healer.

Let me show you the most important trigger point that can clear up light cases mistaken for plantar fasciitis in just minutes.

Pain from this trigger point shows itself in the following areas:

Heel

Calf

Back of the ankle

Sounds familiar?

The trigger point is located below your calf muscle, at the bottom of the Soleus muscle. You can easily find your Soleus when you lift your toes and pay attention which muscle in your leg contracts. The trigger point you are looking for is at the bottom of your calf muscle right in the middle of your lower leg.

If you put your hand on your lower leg with your middle finger touching your heel the point is roughly where your carpal bone makes contact with the leg. If you can not find it on your own, take a look at the pictures included in the FREE bonus guide that comes with the Plantar Fasciitis System.

Now simply put your finger on the point and press. You should feel slight pain. If you don’t feel anything, move your finger up and down until you found it. Massage it for half a minute with one of two fingers. Doing this repeatedly over the course of several days has the power to eliminate even stubborn pain.

Now in case that this might not work for you…don’t worry! This is just one of several trigger points explained and the use of trigger points is just one component of the complete Plantar Fasciitis System. Each component is designed to work with the other to create a synergetic healing effect that clears up even stubborn cases of plantar fasciitis.

“I love how simple yet structured your approach is.”

“Hey, your system did what even the $235.00 handmade German shoes I bought didn’t help to do: Having pain free feet all day. I love how simple yet structured your approach is. It’s truly is a SYSTEM that cure plantar fasciitis. Thanks for rescuing me! Martha”

– Martha Rowan

Warning! Do NOT Trust Any Guide Or Self-Proclaimed “Expert” Unless They Prove The Following 5 Things To You

I know there’s a ton of conflicting information out there what really works for healing plantar fasciitis. For this reason I want to give you 5 things you absolutely, positively must check before you trust anyone to give you advice:

There MUST be proven results! The most effective way to fast healing is to copy what’s already been proven to work. The Plantar Fasciitis System has already helped hundreds to cure their condition. More importantly people still write me every day thanking me for the miracle of relieving their foot pain…a pain they often suffered from for years. This is why I am so confident this system will work for you as well I offer a full, 100% money-back guarantee.

You MUST get a treatment plan from someone who knows what she’s talking about! Before trying any treatment, make sure it’s designed by someone who knows what plantar fasciitis means. Don’t fall for some book smart doctor that has never actually cured anyone and that might have last seen a case 30 years back in some textbook while he was studying.  I have struggled myself for almost 3 years before I managed to cure my plantar fasciitis. During those years I have been to countless doctors. Most don’t have a clue how to help you. Most people I talked to tell me the exact same. My system cured me. It helped hundreds more. Please let me help you, too!

To save you suffering and frustration, you should exchange money for valuable information stops your pain — fast You know, I’ve learned over the years that it pays, many times over, to discover what others already know. This way you save a ton of time because you can completely eliminate the learning curve you need to go through when making the experience yourself. “Free” information you get from somewhere online are probably worth exactly what you pay for them. Not only don’t you know if they work, they could actually harm you. In the best case you waste your time and needlessly suffer for longer than you have to. Don’t do this to yourself and your feet! The Plantar Fasciitis System will get you pain-free as fast as humanly possible. And it’s easy to use.

The information MUST be up-to-date Research and medical discoveries never stop. Methods that used to be effective get out-dated faster and faster. You  shouldn’t follow any advice that does not rely on the newest,  cutting-edge science. I know this and I’m still active in all the forums. There isn’t a study about foot pain I don’t read. Nothing makes me happier than when I find a way to make the Plantar Fasciitis System more effective. Why? Because I know exactly what it feels like to suffer. And I don’t want that for anyone!

Most importantly, you must be able to trust the person that offers a cure

You know…I wrote the Plantar Fasciitis System to make sure you have a proven step-by-step guide to forever rid yourself of any foot pain. I want to give you a short-cut for rapid healing…worth at least 10 times the price of this system!

Here Are Just Some of the Secrets Revealed in this Course

Secret #1: The almost magical self-treatment that can erase plantar fasciitis pain in minutes – proven to work in 73% of all cases (p.15-16)

The “dirty secret” about what causes plantar fasciitis most doctors are too embarrassed to tell you (p.11)

Secret #3: Two amazingly effective, yet totally pain-free ways to stretch your plantar fascia…easy to do no matter how out of shape you are (p.17)

57-year-old Mary had no clue why her feet hurt. No doctor was able to tell her the reason. A quick glance on page 8 of the Plantar Fasciitis System manual finally gave her certainty. And easy-to-follow instructions on how to treat herself.

Secret #5: How to massage your plantar fasciitis away (p.39)

Sam, a sport enthusiast from Arkansas, was heart-broken when his doctor told him not to engage in any sports or exercise activity. In the manual he discovered 3 sports that are completely save to do even with acute plantar fasciitis. See for yourself. (p.42)

Secret #7: The fasted way to escape your burning heel pain…proven to work for over 60 years  (p.3)

How normal is your plantar fasciitis? New medical study reveal surprising results (p.9)

Secret #9: The biggest mistake most people make with resting…and how to avoid it (p.10)

The 5 best stretching exercises…including the single best stretch for plantar fasciitis – according to a study in the Journal of Bone and Joint Surgery (p.18)

Secret #11: What does not cause plantar fasciitis – no matter what your doctor told you (p.11-12)

Pain during the night, pain in the morning, pain all day…how normal is your pain pattern? (p.90)

Secret #13: The one advice every doctor gives when treating plantar fasciitis that is right on the money (p.42)

How to attack your plantar fasciitis from 3 angles…guaranteeing a save and lasting treatment that bans it forever from your life (p.6)

Secret #15: 3 incredibly easy ways to bullet-proof feet…you can do them at home using common household objects as your “equipment” (p.31-38)

How likely are your friends and family to also suffer from plantar fasciitis? Discover the highest plantar fasciitis risk factor and what to do about it (p.12)

Secret #17: Nature’s counter-intuitive way to avoid injury…and how it helps you to look and feel more youthful(p.17)

Army study reveals highest risk factors for injuries – are you or your loved ones among the unlucky? (p.12)

Secret #19: The counter-intuitive plantar fasciitis treatment…proven to work for virtually anyone…even if your doctor has already give up on you (p.17)

Why the 3-angle approach trigger point therapy takes is THE best approach to treating any pain related condition  (p.14)

Secret #21: 7 Proven methods that make your feet forever plantar fasciitis proof…even if surgery failed you (p.31-39)

How to save hundreds of $$$ on orthotics (p.43)

Secret #22: The surprising reason why more women suffer from plantar fasciitis and foot pain (p.44)

And more. A LOT more!

 Why The Plantar Fasciitis Sytem Is Unlike Anything Else Out There

Reason #1: Fastest treatment

When you suffer from plantar fasciitis all you want is…get rid of the pain! This is why the Plantar Fasciitis System attacks the root of the pain from the very beginning. It relieves the muscle tightness…and short-circuits the nerve triggers that are responsible for your misery.

It works its magic in not just one way…but attacks the pain from multiple angles leaving it no other choice but to surrender. Like wheels in a clog every component works with the others to achieve the fastest pain relief  humanly possible.

Reason #2: The only systematic way to treat plantar fasciitis…guaranteeing results

When dealing with a condition as severe and persistent as plantar fasciitis…a few “tips and tricks” won’t do the job.

If you think a guide with a few stretching exercises or some badly filmed practice you found on youtube will help you…you are in for an unpleasant surprise. Your plantar fasciitis won’t leave you that easy.

You need a proven, systematic approach that attacks and resolves the issue in all possible ways. For this reason the Plantar Fasciitis System is not just a collection of various exercises. It is a well thought-through, step-by-step manual that has already helped hundreds of people just like you to leave the pain behind.

In fact, I’m so sure that it will help YOU that I’m offering an unconditional full money-back guarantee. In the very unlikely case that you will not see rapid improvements and a lessening of your pain in just days I beg you to ask me for a full refund.

Reason #3: Clear, easy-to-follow explanations

The worst thing is looking for help…and getting confusing, unclear advice. Not with the Plantar Fasciitis System. Constant feedback from hundreds of users together with countless revisions have made sure everyone can understand and follow this treatment.

Even better: Not only do you receive a detailed, step-by-step plan including pictures…you also get 9 HD videos showing you exactly how the recommended exercises work. All you need to do is press “Play” and follow along. It couldn’t be easier.

Check Out What This Whole Revolutionary System Contains

The Plantar Fasciitis System

The Plantar Fasciitis System is the most complete, effective and FAST way to cure plantar fasciitis. I developed this system over years…based on my personal experience with plantar fasciitis.

Over the years the system has been constantly improved and shown its effectiveness on hundreds of people that suffered from foot pain.

The entire system contains a manual which gives you step-by-step explanations exactly on what to do…when to do it…and how to do it. All exercises are explained in simple English and come with clear pictures that show you how it should look.

But this is not all. To make 100% certain that you do everything right – and to make it easy for you – it also includes 9 videos…filmed in HD… demonstrating the exercises step by step…so you can easily follow along.

The Plantar Fasciitis System gets delivered digitally. This means in just minutes after you go ahead and click the button below you will get access to everything you need to escape your foot pain forever.