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hammershealthyhabits · 9 months ago

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Finding Your Self-Care Groove

Why is it so important to take care of yourself and your well-being? There are many ways you can contribute to taking care of yourself, whether that be your body or mind. Today this blog will discuss why self-care is so important and how it can be accomplished. Remember what self-care is about when reading these tips and bits of information… YOU!

Self-care is the practice of maintaining the well-being of your mind, body, and soul. Taking good care of yourself is important and may involve activities such as setting new boundaries for yourself and making time to ensure you are creating an environment that is healthy for you. According to CBT professionals in “The Psychology Behind Self-Care and Why It Is Important,” some benefits of prioritizing self-care consist of reduced stress, better relationships, increased productivity, and improved physical health (McKeany, 2023) https://cbtprofessionals.com.au/the-psychology-behind-self-care-and-why-it-is important/#:~:text=Self%2Dcare%20practices%20help%20us,our%20goals%20and%20well%2Dbeing. Physical, mental, and emotional health are all linked together, and failing to care for one can lead to the decline of another.

Self-care can be critical to your mental state and well-being for many reasons! By taking care of yourself, you are also increasing your positive outlook on life and decreasing levels of anxiety in depression. Because of the state of the world we live in and all the stress that individuals under a large amount of stress feel every day, feelings of sadness, burnout, and exhaustion are common. These things can cause us to feel tired or worn out and we tend to take it out on those around us or give into habits that may feel good but are just a temporary fix. Psychology Today describes self-care as, “revolved around caring for—and maximizing—our four sources of energy: the food we eat, our sleep, our breath (our physical activity levels), and our state of mind,” (Vermani, 2023) www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/a-deeper-wellness/202302/understanding-the-mental-health-and-self-care-connection.

Small acts of self-nurturing incorporated into your weekly routine can easily boost energy, help you keep viruses away, and maintain a healthy state of mind. The National Institute of Mental Health describes mental health as “more than the absence of a mental illness—it’s essential to your overall health and quality of life,” (NIMH, 2022) www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/caring-for-your-mental-health. Knowing your own body and what it needs is crucial to choosing how you start your self-care journey. You may already have some things that you enjoy that can become a form of self-care if you do them more often. This may also require you to try new things, go to new places, or do different activities.

Now that we have talked about the details of how personal care is connected to your mental and physical health, I would like to share my journey with self-care and how it has changed the way I view myself and my well-being. My self-care journey began after I quit playing travel softball. While playing travel softball, I was overworked in the gym and at practice. I often found myself in the same cycle of school, homework on the way to practice or lifting, sleep, and repeating it all the next day. When the weekend came around, I would be at a tournament playing three to five games a day and completing as much schoolwork in my in-between game breaks as I could. I was visiting the dermatologist monthly for acne on my face, chest, and back that could not be controlled with topical medications and treatments. It was not until the end of my sophomore year of high school that I decided I had enough of this crazy schedule that was so draining to me mentally and physically. I realized how much effort I was putting into a sport that I no longer enjoyed and neglecting my personal health at the same time.

One fact I can say about my well-being while in a travel sport was that I was in the best shape of my life. I was physically the most fit I will probably ever be. With that being said, I was taking Advil for sore muscles, and had cuts, bruises, and burns on my knees and arms from diving and sliding on hot turf or sand. Although my BMI looked great on paper, my body was in a constant state of “healing mode.” On top of playing a physically demanding sport, I had just started taking Accutane at 15 years old for my cystic, painful acne. Unfortunately, because of its adverse side effects, Accutane dries out the fluid that cushions your joints. Because of this and the constant physical activities I was in, my body was achy and sore all the time for six long months.

When I finally mustered up the courage to say no to something more harmful to my mental and physical health than beneficial, my point of view on self-care and how I felt in my skin completely changed. I suddenly had all this available time to do things that fulfilled me and alleviated my stress. I was finally able to get a job that allowed me to spend money when I spent time with my friends trying new coffee shops or getting a facial. I could pay for the gas money it took me to drive to my grandparents’ house and spend the weekend with them. I was connecting more with my friends at school, and I even got myself a boyfriend. For years my only social life was softball and my teammates. I was stuck in a little bubble. I was being criticized by those around me constantly when I could not hit a small yellow ball with a stick. How detrimental is that to a young girl’s mental health?

There are quite a few things that I have added to my routine to take care of myself since my sophomore year of high school. My top five are skincare, coffee shops, pilates, sufficient sleep, and outdoor time. I started to care more about my skincare in my mid-teenage years. I started incorporating facials, layered skin products, and frequent face masks into my life. I felt more confident and secure about my image and in turn, started healing my mental health. I also allow myself to spend a small allowance of my money trying new coffee shops and coffee concoctions.

Another huge part of my life that I continued even into college is going to the gym. I have found my balance of pilates, treadmill time, and weightlifting that makes it truly enjoyable to go to the gym four to five times a week. Physical activity looks different to everyone, and I am so glad that I finally found what works for me! One form of self-care that I struggle with but have been trying to improve on is getting enough sleep every night. I have trouble falling asleep at night and often have to wake up early for work or school. It is a habit that I am trying to form that I think is crucial to living a more productive, healthy life.

The final thing that I have found to be beneficial to my well-being is being outdoors and connecting with nature. Being at the beach, spending time in the sun, riding bikes outside, going for a walk on a nice day, or just lying in a hammock in between classes are all ways I try to soak up sun rays and get fresh air. I think being outdoors and getting vitamin D and fresh air is helpful to clear my mind and be more positive.

Just because these are the things that work for me, does not mean they will work for everyone. There is a numerous amount of ways you can take care of yourself and improve your mental health. For most people, finding the time in their busy lives to accomplish some form of self-care is nearly impossible. In her Harvard Business Review article “There’s No Right Way To DO Self-Care,” Alyssa Westring suggests that anyone looking to better themselves or start exploring personal care begin to look for patterns when they feel drained and when they are energized or invigorated (Westring, 2021) https://hbr.org/2021/04/theres-no-right-way-to-do-self-care. By deciding you are going to start paying more attention to and tending to the wellness of your mind and body, you can start to seek out more opportunities to sneak in some time for yourself in that crazy schedule.

Catherine Beard, the creator of The Blissful Mind blog, suggests that any person who is in the process of their self-care journey should focus on optimizing one of the seven pillars of self-care until they are ready to move on to the next. Those pillars of self-care are as follows: mental, emotional, physical, environmental, spiritual, recreational, and social (Beard, 2021) https://theblissfulmind.com/pillars-of-self-care/. There are many resources and articles available if you have no idea where to start on your healthcare journey. Here are some suggestions or ideas that I can share with you now to help you get started! Peaceful Mind Peaceful Life is a blog that has many self-care tips. Michelle lists some of her favorite self-care practices, which are, positive thinking, hydration, feel-good movement, meditation, journaling, being nurtured by nature, caring for the skin you are in, letting go of judgment, and sleep (Maros, 2024) https://peacefulmindpeacefullife.org/4-self-care-practices-to-help-you-connect-with-yourself/. Even though some of those seem like simple tasks, if you give them a bit more time and effort and start to focus on what makes you better mentally and physically, you will start to notice an improved mindset and feeling about life and yourself.

We have discussed many ways in which you can take care of your mind, body, and spirit. I hope these tips and a little more information about my self-care journey spark the flame in you to begin yours as well! Remember, self-care is all about you. Finding your groove and realizing what practices improve your mental and physical health as an individual is the first step to transforming how you look after yourself. I hope this was helpful to your self-care and wellness process. Thank you for reading :)

Works Cited:

Beard, Catherine. “The 7 Pillars of Self-Care and How To Use Them.” The Blissful Mind, The Blissful Mind LLC, 10 Feb. 2021, https://theblissfulmind.com/pillars-of-self-care/. Accessed 11 Feb. 2024.

Gallo, Kim. “Self-Care in Skincare: Connection between Skincare & Mental Health.” Kim Gallo Esthetics, Kim Gallo Esthetics, 18 July 2023, kimgalloesthetics.com/blog/self-care-skincare.

Maros, Michelle. “4 Self-Care Practices to Help You Connect With Yourself.” Peaceful Mind Peaceful Life, Peaceful Mind Peaceful Life, 2024, https://peacefulmindpeacefullife.org/4-self-care-practices-to-help-you-connect-with-yourself/. Accessed 11 Feb. 2024.

McKean, Briony. “The Psychology Behind Self-Care and Why It Is Important.” Psychologist Gold Coast - CBT Professionals, Briony McKean, 31 May 2023, cbtprofessionals.com.au/the-psychology-behind-self-care-and-why-it-is-important/#:~:text=Self%2Dcare%20practices%20help%20us,our%20goals%20and%20well%2Dbeing.

NIMH. “Caring for Your Mental Health.” National Institute of Mental Health, U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/caring-for-your-mental-health. Accessed 11 Feb. 2024.

Vermani C. Psych., Monica. “The Connection between Self-Care and Mental Health.” Psychology Today, Sussex Publishers, www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/a-deeper-wellness/202302/understanding-the-mental-health-and-self-care-connection. Accessed 11 Feb. 2024.

Westring, Alyssa. “There’s No ‘Right’ Way to Do Self-Care.” Harvard Business Review, Harvard Business School Publishing, 11 Oct. 2021, hbr.org/2021/04/theres-no-right-way-to-do-self-care.

#beauty #health and wellness #healthyliving #self care #mental health

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fitjourneydaily · 10 months ago

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Discover the Power of Puravive: An Effective Weight Loss Solution

Welcome to our comprehensive guide exploring Puravive, an effective weight loss solution that can help you achieve your health and wellness goals. In this article, we will dive deep into the benefits, science, and success stories surrounding Puravive, shedding light on why it has become a popular choice among individuals striving for long-term weight loss. I. Understanding the Need for an Effective Weight Loss Solution Maintaining a healthy weight is not only crucial for our physical appearance but also for our overall well-being. Excess weight can lead to a multitude of health issues, including heart disease, diabetes, and sleep apnea, to name a few. Unfortunately, the modern lifestyle, characterized by sedentary habits and processed foods, has made weight management a challenging task for many. II. The Science Behind Puravive: An Innovative Approach to Weight Loss Puravive takes a unique approach to weight loss by combining the power of science and nature. Its formula is meticulously crafted using natural ingredients known for their weight loss properties. One of the key ingredients found in Puravive is green coffee bean extract, which has been studied for its potential to increase metabolism and reduce body fat. Additionally, Puravive contains a blend of powerful antioxidants that help enhance the body's natural detoxification process. III. Key Benefits of Puravive as an Effective Weight Loss Solution 1. Sustainable Weight Loss: Puravive focuses on long-term results rather than quick fixes. By targeting the root causes of weight gain, such as slow metabolism and inefficient fat burning, Puravive helps individuals achieve sustainable weight loss. 2. Increased Energy Levels: Puravive's natural ingredients work synergistically to provide an energy boost. This increased energy can support individuals in engaging in physical activities and maintaining an active lifestyle. 3. Appetite Control: One of the significant challenges in weight management is controlling cravings and suppressing appetite. Puravive's ingredients help suppress hunger, making it easier to adhere to a balanced and calorie-controlled diet. 4. Enhanced Detoxification: Puravive's blend of antioxidants aids the body's detoxification process, supporting overall health and well-being. IV. Success Stories: Real People, Real Results The success stories of individuals who have benefited from Puravive speak volumes about its efficacy. Many users have reported significant weight loss, improved confidence, and a renewed sense of vitality. These transformations are a testament to the effectiveness of Puravive as a weight loss solution. Tags: 1. Weight Loss 2. Puravive 3. Effective Weight Loss Solution 4. Health and Wellness Conclusion In conclusion, if you are looking for an effective weight loss solution to transform your life, Puravive is worth considering. With its natural ingredients, scientific approach, and numerous benefits, Puravive has become a go-to choice for those seeking sustainable weight loss. Don't let excess weight hold you back any longer – start your journey towards improved health and well-being with Puravive today. Note: The word count for each section is approximate and can be adjusted as per your requirements Weight loss can be a challenging journey, but with the right strategies and determination, you can achieve your Weight Loss, goals. Read the full article

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wobblefloss · 2 years ago

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STUFF I DIDN'T KNOW WHEN I WAS STILL ABLED...

It's not always obvious what's wrong.

Hi, Doctor. I'm tired. Like, all the time.

No. All the time. I wake up exhausted. I fall asleep at work. I fall asleep in the shower. I'm scared to drive.

No, Doctor. You don't understand. I'm not 'sleepy.' Not 'drowsy.' I'm tired in my bones. My blood feels heavy. The weight of my head hurts my neck. I can't think sometimes--I forget how to read--i get lost in familiar places! I say 'tired,' but I mean that 80% of my life, I feel like a sloppy heap of mud splattering and crumbling from too much moving, too much thinking, too much feeling, too much light, too much noise, too much everything. I'm confused and disoriented and like I'm in a terrible dream.

Oh.

That's a symptom of a lot of things?

Anemia. Migraine. Sleep apnea. Vitamin deficiency. Thyroid dysfunctions. Brain diseases. Heart diseases. Neurological disorders. Blood disorders. Autoimmune issues. Depression and other psychiatric conditions. Lifestyle choices: sleep, food, activity level. Environmental factors: mold, pollution, allergies.

There's a lot of testing to rule things out, huh? Could take years? Yes, I know it will be expensive. Yes, I accept that some of the tests will hurt. Yes, I commit to rearranging my eating/sleeping/exercising habits and seeing every recommended specialist.

Doctor, you don't understand. Either we find an answer, no matter how long it takes, or I am trapped outside of the world forever for no reason. Not testing won't make these horrible feelings stop.

Can you imagine feeling this way? Always? During your friends' birthdays? When your boss demands work? When you're home alone in the middle of the night trying to remember how the sink works? During the commute. During the shower. Taking out the trash. Feeding the cats. Staring at your bills. Talking with your family. For years... weddings, funerals, holidays, weekends, 4am, 4pm, when your loved ones need you, during every emergency, while you fail at your job, at your hobbies, at your relationships, at being your basic self?

Fuck, Yes! Doctor! Run! The! Tests! We are burning daylight!! Let's get this ball rolling! Journey of a thousand miles, begins with single step, etc!

I do want to feel better. This is not my imagination. It's not my fault. I am a reliable witness to my own life and I don't care how many tests 'come back normal.' Those must be the wrong tests to find what's haywire. I know something is wrong and even if we can't fix it, I must understand it.

I'm now in year 7 of trying to improve my situation. I know so much more about my conditions than I did. I am getting help. I still don't have a full picture. I'm still disabled.

But it's not like it was.

Please. Don't give up. Diagnosis can take years. Some people never get a firm answer. Regardless, you will learn ways to cope. You will meet people who help you cope. Don't give up on yourself. You are worth the effort.

Seems like something we should all know.

Disability happens to people without our control or consent. Every single disabled person has strong feelings about their own situation and I would not presume to talk about anyone’s thoughts but my own. But none of us chose to do life on hardmode, so if the world could listen this month, there’s a lot to say.

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theprincientist · 2 years ago

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7 Things You Can Do For Yourself Before The Year Ends

Instead of focusing on what you didn’t do, think about what you can still do.

Choose only one thing you wish to improve in your life. It can be small like sleeping an hour earlier or drinking more water.

Work on that for the next 4 months.

Working on small things can bring significant improvements to your life. They help you build the discipline and consistency you need for other, more essential habits.

If you can work on small things consistently and see the change, you will add more small things to change.

Many small habits compiled, build a better life. Start small. Don’t underestimate small changes.

𝟕 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 (𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚��𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮):

𝟏. 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐇𝐲𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐞

You can start by setting a fixed time to sleep and wake up. And remove distractions from your sleep area.

Your brain and body will thank you.

Having good sleep habits is good for both your physical and mental health.

Medical Article About Sleep Hygiene here: https://www.sleepfoundation.org/sleep-hygiene

𝟐. 𝐄𝐱𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲

The goal should not be achieving a certain body aesthetic. Especially because the results from exercise take a long time to be physically noticeable.

If you are exercising for aesthetics you will be disappointed very quickly and more likely to give up.

The focus should be on your health. You may feel young and fine without exercise in your life right now, but I want you to think about who you want to be in 1 year, and 2 years.

That version of you needs you to be healthy and fit to face the challenges life brings you.

You should exercise as frequently as you can, for how long you have within that day. If it is once a week for 15 minutes, it is more that what you did before.

Medical Article of the benefits of exercise here:

https://www.nhs.uk/live-well/exercise/exercise-health-benefits/

𝟑. 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Moderate exposure to the sun has many benefits. It can help you sleep better, uplift your mood and boost your energy levels.

I deliberately started getting sunlight this year and my anxiety level drooped from 90 to 10%.

A 2020 review suggests you have a higher risk of depression if you have low vitamin D levels. And vitamin D, unlike other essential vitamins, must be obtained from sunlight.

It is suggested to spend at least 30 minutes a day. Don't forget your sunscreen.

Scientific Article About The Benefits of Sunlight:

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2290997/

𝟒. 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬

Besides the obvious accumulation of knowledge, reading can improve brain connectivity and increase your vocabulary and comprehension.

You will be more open-minded and gain a better understanding of others and yourself.

I have been reading a chapter a day from books I've had on my shelf for years, and I already finished a few.

Small efforts brought me many changes in mindset and actions. Give yourself a try as well.

If you don't like reading try audiobooks. I suggest you start with these 4 recommendations.

Audiobook Recommendations:

𝟓. 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞

You should not ignore the facts and move directly into creating skincare routines and blindly following advice on the internet.

You should instead educate yourself on which practices maintain the health of your skin.

Besides keeping your skin healthy and beautiful, a skincare routine has many other benefits like prevention of skin disease and maintaining your skin comfortable.

Having beautiful skin as you get older means making smart choices throughout your life.

The best thing you can do is educate yourself and truly understand why skincare is important, instead of applying knowledge without basis.

Skincare Articles:

𝟔. 𝐂𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚

I'm currently in the middle of doing this, and it has been life-changing.

Your social media should not be a place that creates anxiety and comparisons. It should be inspiring and uplifting.

If you feel bad after being on your socials you need a clean-up. On each social media:

Update your privacy settings. Make sure your apps are not tracking you.

Go to your followers. See who is there. that you no longer want to have access to you. Maybe it is an old friend you are keeping out of politeness or a co-worker. Respectfully remove anyone you don't feel comfortable showing your true self.

Go to the people you are following. If they cause you to compare yourself or fill you with jealousy. Remove them. Also, stop following people you don't like. Instead, follow people that inspire you. People that are doing what you want to do or have the life you are working toward.

Delete old photos and update your socials with a new one. Mark it as your new beginning on social media.

Be yourself. Don't try so hard to fit into an aesthetic or be internet famous. Share what you like and create content that aligns with your lifestyle.

Be social. Social media is fun when you engage with people you like. If someone makes you laugh drop an emoji. If they teach you something thank them. Also, the algorithms show you more of what you engage with, so engage with things that make you happy.

𝟕.𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

Something you can do all at once or little by little. Either way, it must be done.

Decluttering increases productivity and creativity. It opens space for new and better things.

Declutter clothes, shoes, and books. See what you have and what you need.

Revisit old versions of yourself and prioritize the current one. What do YOU need? How do you want to dress? What do you want to read?

Give away what does not align with that perspective.

Choose 1 or 2 maximum and start working on it every day. Remember that 4 months will pass no matter what you do, so you may as well try and build a better version of yourself.

Hope this article helped. Don't forget to reblog.

#theprincientistpersonaldevelopment #black beauty #luxury black women #melanin #black fashion #black hair #luxury vacation #black women #fashion #african beauty #self esteem #self worth #self help #self improvement #self growth #personal growth #personal development

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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years ago

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see? - [Reid x Reader] - Chapter 3

masterlist

previous chapter // series index // next chapter

Summary: Months after Reader left, Reid has tried to put his life back together. He’s never stopped trying to find Reader, but he may find her in the worst way possible.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k for Chapter 3

Content Warning: Normal Criminal Minds stuff. Mentions of drug addiction. This series has a villain, and he harms women. There is no s*xual assault, but there is brief talk of torture, and then the death of the victims. Spoiler: Our unsub targets pregnant women, one of the infants does not survive. Reader and her baby are fine. I don't go into detail, but if you need to skip this, I understand.

A/n: How can I ever thank you all enough for being so patient with me? That being said, this chapter does end on a cliffhanger that you probably saw coming if you read “River” by @yours-truly-r. She shared this plot with me, so this is my version. I’ll try my best not to make you wait too long for chapter 4. Chapter 3 & 4 are in Spencer’s point of view, but the remainder of the series will be in Reader’s POV.

-- Linear Progression --

(Spencer’s POV)

The night we came back from my first case with the BAU, Morgan declared that he was going to a bar near his apartment to "get lucky." When I pointed out the fact that it was almost 2 am, he had told me, "time is an illusion, Pretty Boy."

That was the first time he called me pretty boy, along with the first time I tried to explain a theoretical concept he had no interest in hearing.

He was right to a degree. The way we understand time is an illusion. Time doesn’t happen in the linear way that we as a society perceive it to. The physics of time are still widely debated, but the running hypothesis is that everything that has ever happened is still happening right now. Every single moment in time is happening all at once, and it always will be.

Morgan didn’t “get lucky” that night, but he did give me a ride back to my apartment. I think that was the beginning of our friendship; I had never been able to understand the social constructs of relationships and friendships, but I think he felt some sort of responsibility for the skinny kid with glasses who was babbling about the physics of time at 3 am.

My friendship with Derek Morgan was one of the most important of my life.

Which is why I wasn't going to murder him for banging on my door at 7 am.

“Open up, Pretty Boy!”

Grumbling, I got out of bed and padded down the hallway towards my living room where Morgan was pounding on the door so hard, I was concerned it was going to fly off its hinges.

“If you break my door, you’re gonna fix it,” I muttered out when I finally pulled the door open.

The man who was the closest thing to a brother I had just smiled at me. “I restore houses, kid. It’d be an improvement.”

Smirking, I waved him into my apartment. In the months since…Since February, Morgan had made it a habit of coming by several times a week whenever we were in town. I don’t know if the rest of the team knew he did it, I don’t know if they were as worried about me as he was, but it wouldn’t have surprised me.

“Coffee?” I asked, making my way into the kitchen.

"We'll grab some on the way," he said, flopping down on my couch. "We have a case; I told Hotch I'd swing by and get you. It's wheels up as soon as we get there and finish the briefing."

I frowned. “I didn’t get any message.”

“I know. I asked Garcia to let me wake you.” He turned his head around to look at me. “You haven’t been sleeping, kid.”

He wasn’t wrong. “It’s…I’m trying, Derek.”

I didn’t need to say it, because he knew it. Much like time, recovery isn’t a linear process. You start, you stumble, you go back, sometimes you go up then down. It’s an imperfect journey because there isn’t a finish line; addiction can’t be beaten, only beaten back.

Derek Morgan had been beside me through every step of my recovery.

Lumbering off the couch, he walked over to stand before me. “Reid, you’re doing the best you can. Everyone stumbles.”

I shook my head. “It’s different. I can…I can still see it. I can still see it all, Morgan.”

I could still see the look on Ben’s face when he found the vials of Dilaudid I had hidden all around my apartment. I could still remember the look on Hotch’s face when he told me she was gone. I could still see the anger on Garcia’s face when she refused to help me find her.

Most of all, I remember how y/n looked when I told her I would kill her, give up her precious life, for one more moment with Maeve. Every morning, right before I wake up, that memory flashes behind my eyes.

I’ve called in every favor I’m owed, reached out to every connection; no one could find her. She vanished.

I quickly realized the only way she could vanish like that is if she had help from inside the bureau, and if I had to guess, I’m sure I know who helped her. If she went to all these lengths, she didn’t want to be found, least of all by me.

"We'll find her, Spencer," Morgan said gently, pulling me from my thoughts.

He said the words to comfort me, but even he knew they weren’t true. No one would find y/n y/l/n until she wanted to be found.

Nodding my head, I made my way back towards my bedroom to get ready for the case.

Making amends is very big in the recovery process. I wanted to make amends to y/n, and while I wanted that to be in the traditional sense, I settled for a symbolic one.

I tried to make myself into the man she thought I was before that night. Every time I felt the itch crawl up my spine, I thought of her face. It didn't make the craving go away; it just made it easier to bear.

I didn’t deserve to have her back in my life, but I wanted to be someone who did.

After I had finished getting ready, I made my way over to my bedside table to pick up the coin I carried with me everywhere, running my fingers over the edges before placing it in my pocket.

Two hundred and forty-seven days sober, and each one of them was for her.

We never made it to the bullpen that morning. Hotch called and informed us that it was wheels up "immediately," and that we would debrief on the plane. Morgan and I were the last members of the team to arrive. He took a seat on the couch beside Callahan while I opted to sit at the table across from Hotch and JJ.

“Garcia is going to be out for the remainder of the week. She has the flu,” our unit chief informed us, his eyes fixed on the tablet in front of him.

Morgan toyed with his phone, no doubt trying to text his ‘baby girl’ before take-off. “Who is going to be running things from here since she’s out? Kevin?”

Hotch nodded, but I couldn’t help but notice he seemed distracted. “He’s the most familiar with Garcia’s systems.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days,” Rossi muttered just a bit too loudly, earning a mock glare from Hotch, a confused look from Kate, an eye roll from Morgan and JJ, and a soft huff of laughter from me.

“Let’s get started,” Hotch ordered, drawing all of our focus back to the present. “The Oregon State Police have requested our help.”

I couldn’t help but wrinkle my nose at the tablet in front of me, further proof Garcia wasn’t on this case. Despite how mad she was at me over Y/n, she still always accommodated my wishes for paper files.

The state police?” Morgan asked. “Not the locals?”

"No," Hotch answered, right as I brought up an image on my screen. "He's not sticking to one county."

I heard a strangled gasp from JJ, but I didn't need to look up to know why. “How many?” I asked.

“When the original request was made two women had been abducted. Both of them were pregnant, days from giving birth, and both from the same town of Silverton, Oregon. The first victim was Iris Jenkins. She was a 31-year-old woman, and she was 40 weeks and 2 days gestation when she was taken by the unsub. The M.E. estimates he held her for less than 24 hours before she died.”

“The baby?” JJ asked, her voice thick with emotion.

“He was left outside of a local hospital in Silverton. He was completely unharmed. The next intended victim is Nancy Williamson. She was abducted outside her workplace. Also 40 weeks pregnant with a boy.”

“Could that be a coincidence?”

Hotch still didn’t look up from his tablet. “It could have been before the latest victim.”

“But Nicole Williamson escaped?” Morgan asked. “That’s lucky. Did she give a description of the guy?”

“No, she said he kept her blindfolded and bound to a chair.”

That caused me to pause. "That doesn't make sense. Why would the unsub blindfold them if he plans on killing them anyway?"

Rossi spoke for the first time. “Psychological torture? Sensory deprivation?”

I thought about that as I swiped through the crime scene photos; pausing when I saw a photograph of a letter on the screen. "He makes them write letters?”

“Just the first victim and the third. The one that got away was only held for 12 hours.”

I frowned. “Is this blood? Or just red ink?”

“The first is red ink, the second letter is still being processed.”

It was obvious based on the letter spacing and how many loops were in the letters that a woman wrote this letter. Based on the contents of the letter, I could also assume she was under duress.

Hotch spoke again, pulling my focus. “Morgan, I'd like for you and JJ to drive up to Silverton. Visit Miss Williamson and ask if she's up for a cognitive interview, then visit the M.E., ask him if he remembers anything about the first victim.”

“Where was the…” JJ’s question trailed off when he got to the same image Kate’s hand had been frozen over for the last 47 seconds, the same photo that was described in the incident report that Hotch had on his screen.

My unit chief, my friend, cleared his throat before he spoke. “Kayla Whitmore was found an hour ago in Eugene, Oregon. The autopsies are already underway, and the scene is being processed.”

“The cause of death seems pretty apparent,” Morgan said with a look of disgust on his face.

"The time between this most recent kill and the last abduction is much shorter. We need to move fast," Hotch said, his voice grave. "Kate, I'd like for you to come with me to the FBI satellite office in Bend, that's where we're landing. Kayla Whitmore's credit card was used to buy gas right outside the town limits. Rossi, I'd like for you and Reid to ride out to Eugene. It should be undisturbed."

"I already don't understand this guy," Rossi muttered. "The first baby survives, the third doesn't. The second victim is blindfolded, but it doesn't appear the others were. He makes them write their own letters. Then he uses the third victim's credit card. This behavior…it's erratic."

“Is the message on the wall the same in both crime scenes?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.”

The media hadn’t named our unsub yet, but I was sure it wouldn’t be long, especially once word of Kayla Whitmore reached the public. This type of violence always draws attention.

Rossi was moving around the room, silent, but his eyes moving rapidly over everything. “He’s a cocky son of a bitch, I’ll give him that.”

I nodded. “Do we have the original note?” One of the deputies brought over an evidence bag, inside of it was the wrinkled piece of paper. “Have we analyzed this yet?”

The man nodded. “It’s red ink, just like the last.”

"It makes sense; blood might start to coagulate and make it more difficult to work with. Rossi, come here." I called, offering him the note.

“Give justice to the weak and the fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked,” he read. “It sounds biblical.”

“It is. It’s Psalm 82, verses 3 through 4.”

“Was the first note biblical?”

“The first victim was made to write, ‘Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them.’ That’s from Ephesians. There are similar themes in both letters.”

“So, he’s perverting the bible to fit his own fucked up narrative? How original.” The older man handed the paper back to me. “We have to find out how he’s choosing them.”

My gaze moved over to the right wall of the room. "Did the unsub leave any prints when he wrote on the wall?"

It wasn't the first message I'd seen written in blood, but I don't think it's something you ever get used to. “’Do you see this, son of man?�� could be another biblical reference. It’s Ezekiel chapter 8, verse 17. “Do you see this, son of man? Yet you will see still greater abominations than these.’”

“So, are the children abominations? Or the mothers?” The deputy said quietly.

“The mothers,” I answered. “He doesn’t harm the children. I think it must go against his…moral code.”

The deputy scoffed behind me, and I was inclined to agree; the idea that someone could do something like this and have a moral code was almost impossible to imagine.

But devils hide in plain sight all the time.

“His rage is escalating,” I pointed out.

I heard the deputy ask Rossi what that meant.

“This guy is a bum,” the man who developed the art of profiling explained. "He can't get a girlfriend, and he has this idea in his mind that it’s the women’s fault. He thinks women owe him sex, love, whatever he wants.”

I walked away from the wall, turning to face the two men. “He thinks they’re dirty, unclean. It’s why he makes them write the note. By making them say they deserved what he did to them, he’s humiliating them even after death.”

The deputy’s face was pale as he survived the scene around him. “Why does he make them leave the messages in their own blood?”

“Only one message is from them,” I replied, gesturing to the evidence bag. “The message in the blood is from the unsub.”

Before we exited the room, I turned back to that message again, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Both victims had been discovered in the exact same way. The women were naked, stabbed multiple times, but with no signs of sexual assault. They were positioned in the middle of the blood-soaked mattress, their arms spread wide.

He had left the same message on the walls of the room, written in the blood of the woman he killed.

“Do you see this, son of man? Do you see?”

“The media is calling him The Prophet.”

Rossi scoffed. “I bet it was that wet behind the ears deputy who leaked the note and told him the kid’s biblical theories.”

Rossi and I had arrived at the FBI office in Bend, Oregon about an hour ago. Kate and Hotch had already set up; JJ and Morgan were on their way back from Silverton now.

“So, what do we know about this jag-off?” Rossi questioned, staring at the evidence board.

Hotch came to stand at the head of the conference table, his eyes sharp, his voice clipped. "Reid, Dave, what did the M.E. say about the Eugene autopsies?”

"He said he suspected it was a botched c-section. Kayla was just over 40 weeks pregnant, but he said it's not uncommon for first-time mothers to go up to 42 weeks.”

“I know that’s right,” I heard JJ mutter from the speaker placed in the center of the table.

“Indicates a lack of medical knowledge,” Morgan offered. “Because we know this guy isn’t squeamish.”

I agreed with my friend but didn't comment on it; my mind already on another topic. "What's interesting is that Kayla had an anterior placenta, meaning it attached to the front of her uterus. Usually, the placenta attaches to the posterior wall, meaning it's more towards her back. Because of the unusual placement of the placenta, I think that the death of this fetus was accidental."

“It wasn’t a fetus, Reid,” Kate snapped. “It was a baby.”

I cleared my throat, meeting her angry gaze. I knew Callahan was the guardian of a young girl, and based on my years working with fellow agents who were also parents, I knew it was best not to argue about definitions and semantics. "I'm sorry, Kate," I murmured.

Her gaze softened. "It's fine. Sorry. This case is just…this is a lot." She looked down to swipe across her tablet screen. "This child was a boy too?"

I nodded. “All three of the victims were pregnant with boys.”

“So, he wants boys?”

Rossi turned to Kate. “He wants mothers of boys. Probably his way of killing his mother over and over again.”

“But how does he know the babies are boys?” JJ asked.

“So, what do they have in common?” Hotch asked. “Let’s add Nicole Williamson into the mix too, what do we have?”

“There were quotes from the bible in the two complete notes. Those specific verses are often referenced when they speak about protecting children,” I said, my eyes moving over the files. “The women were all in their 20’s. They were all at least 39 weeks pregnant, and...huh, there’s not a father named in any of the medical charts.”

“But how does he know that!” JJ huffed again in frustration.

“And are we sure this unsub is a guy?” Callahan questioned. “There was no sign of sexual assault.”

“If we follow statistics, women take babies, and men take children. With that in mind, it would be safe to assume this was a woman, but the amount of rage we’re seeing makes me think it’s a man.” I turned my back to the team, my eyes moving over the crime scene photos. "The letter was written under duress, but the language is very misogynic. Based on the information Kevin gathered about Kayla's online life, she had a normal amount of self-esteem. It's out of character that she'd talk about herself this way. By all accounts, she was excited for the baby. It's also incredibly difficult to stab someone 54 times. All the women would have fought him until the end. He'd have to be stronger to subdue her. It's a biological instinct, mothers' will stop at nothing to protect their children."

Hotch had pulled out his phone before I finished speaking, dialing Kevin Lynch to give him the criteria of the person we were searching for. "We need women in the Bend, Oregon area that are close to giving birth. There will not be fathers listed on the medical charts. She'll be at least 39 weeks into her pregnancy."

“Alright, so that would leave us with…” Kevin wasn’t able to finish his sentence before an alarm started blaring over the speaker, almost drowning out Kevin’s yelp of surprise.

“What is it?” Hotch asked. “Did something happen?”

"I…I don't know, sir," Kevin answered after he had finally gotten the alarm to quiet. "I was running the search, and…it triggered some sort of system-wide alarm. It completely locked me out of Penny’s system.”

Morgan clicked his tongue. “That doesn’t make any sense. Penelope wouldn’t set some alarm without a reason.”

“Wait. Kevin, was there any sort of message that came up when you triggered the alarm?” Hotch asked, his tone urgent.

There was a weird tension on Hotch’s face while he waited for Kevin to reply. “Yeah, uh, just a dialogue box that says ‘Nightingale.’”

“Nightingale?” Kate asked. “Isn’t that the…”

Hotch didn't reply; he hung up abruptly while Kevin was still speaking. I felt a chill run down my spine when I noticed his hands trembled slightly.

“What is it, Hotch?” Rossi asked urgently.

But he never got a chance to answer; a deputy stormed into the room. "We just got a report of an abandoned car outside of a grocery store about half a mile from here. It's registered to a young woman, and there was an empty infant car seat strapped in the back."

Hotch took the paper from him but didn't look at it. His eyes were screwed shut, and his shoulders were tense.

I heard when the voice spoke on the other end of the line. I heard the deep breath Hotch let out before he spoke.

“Penelope, I need to know where y/n is.”

----------

Permeant Taglist : @rachelxwayne @pinkdiamond1016 @sickeninglyshoujo @justagirllookingforherplace @nanocoool @andiebeaword @imjusthereformggcontent @rainsong01 @violentvulgarvolatile @mys2425 @al3xmnd @imfalling-inlove @cielo1984 @shadyladyperfection @kissingvalentino @goofygubler14 @levylovegood @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @criminalmindzjunkie @addie5264 @hopefulfangirl24 @vellichor01 @ellegreenawayapologist @mcntsee @eevee0722 @peacedolantwins2 @ashwarren32 @goldencherrymooon @pumpkin-reads @mood---board @gublersbooblers @lesbian-emilyprentiss @badkittybang @quxxnxfhxll @jessayln-jpeg

All Spencer Reid: @mediocre-writer @haihappen5 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist

See? Series taglist: @bluegoopplaidsalad @notasofti @bisoner @haylaansmi @ameliamonster @amirahroronoa @gredvb @riley-the-pan-nonbinary @solangeltorres @gwendolyn02 @sallyjacksontheweirdauthor @fangirl-nonsense @immahotmess @falcon-arrows @obsessivereaderchick @flor-sin-petalo @rexorangecouny @keomoon @hermanthewormman @sakurashortstack @criminallminds @boiled-onionrings @sierraraeck @t0xicllama @thequeerishere555 @lexiessimagination @blameitonthenight21 @abbyg217 @lil-roaster @wooya1224 @faesyl @tessa-laurel @little-blue-fishie @fandomyfangirl @youaremyfiveever @evelyncade @sunshine-ncs @maikanna @wishiwasabook @swiftingday @thelastfirerbender @alligatorrampage @notebookgirl30 @forever-a-cynical @alligatorrampage @samayoshito @readandreid @mvlanchqly @odetobeetlebum @notebookgirl30 @meowiemari @calm-and-doctor

Let me know if you’d like to be on any taglist.

#Spencer Reid #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #Spencer reid fic #Dr Reid #Reid #Spencer Reid x y/n #Spencer Reid x you #Reader insert #Dr Spencer Reid x Reader #Reid x Reader #Spencer Reid imagine #Criminal minds imagine

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danideservedbetter · 3 years ago

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Alright so, here’s how things are gonna work.

First off, welcome to this side blog. Since it won’t be jolly fun fandom content and will be a little more personal I decided to separate my health and writing journey from my fandom stuff, although all my fandom content will still be linked on my main blog here.

(I write Izuocha/bnha content which isn’t super popular so if you’re not here for that then yeah, I don’t blame you. But if you are I have a link to our discord and community content pinned so def check it out if you’re interested.)

Secondly, you guys will hear details about stuff relating to my health like what kinds of things affect my disorder based on the tests some doctors are ordering, how I’m trying to improve my diet and activity, and routines and goals I’m attempting for myself. I am underweight, and that’s something I’m going to be talking a bit about, so if that’s triggering following this blog might not be the best thing for you. Details under the cut.

So, what kind of disorder do I have and why did I decide to make a health journey blog? My disorder is called idiopathic hypersomnia. Basically what that means is that when my disorder is acting up (based on factors like stress especially or my generalized anxiety rearing its ugly head) I have the capacity to sleep. And sleep and sleep and sleep and sleep. My longest recorded uninterrupted “sleep-attack” was 26 hours long and ever since I caught Covid in January, my body had been slowly growing weaker to the point I was starting to develop atrophy. I’ve had this ten years and my neurologist suspects inactive cells from mononucleosis I caught at 14 was the cause, because other IH patients have linked their sleeping problems to a case of mono or have had it at some point in their lives.

This disease stole many years and many things I’ve looked forward to from me. I lost friends and experiences and failed so many college classes I had to drop out.

I’ve decided I’m taking them back.

It’s not going to be easy. Just as it took ten years to convince myself that my tiredness was something I chose to give into, it took several extra years and many fights with my family to convince them that I had a real actual neurological disorder and that I need help sometimes. My parents and grandmother finally understand that I have to finish college and find a very special boss willing to work around my erratic progress on projects, but the outsiders they married are not as convinced. My grandmother’s husband kicked me out of their house because he wants to be the center of attention and doesn’t like that some days I’m so weak that I needed my grandmother’s help, and my father’s wife thinks I’m a lazy and ungrateful leech who “gets anxiety just being around” me. Both told my father I’ll never be happy so why even bother with me, but my dad is actually striving to understand his own recently-diagnosed PTSD so while we still butt heads he’s understanding that I have to take things day by day because every tiny circumstance affects my disorder.

Now, why did I decide to air all this out? Well, being open about my disorder and how it affects me has helped at least two people that I know of find out that the tiredness they experience isn’t the typical “American work force exhaustion” they were trained to believe is normal. So if I can help even one more, I’ll gladly talk about what this entails and how I deal with it day to day. Another reason is that I’m also one of those big advocates who believes talking candidly about mental health destigmatizes it and sharing ideas can help us grow as people and maybe make it a little easier to deal with.

So now that you know a little bit about me and my disorder, here are my big goals for the next three months provided my university takes pity on me and actually lets me go back.

First up: create routines to train my body to get used to living a full day fully awake. This includes waking up at the same time and going to sleep at the same time. It means getting dressed and going out and doing things, even little things— which I’ll get to in a sec.

Second: I write. I have a novel in limbo and I write fanfics. Writing is a big part of who I am and I’ve written one thing this year, which for a whole six-month stretch is upsetting and disappointing. Today is my reset. In the next 569 days I want to to finish the six stories I have in limbo (except the larger one) and finally reach my goal of posting 200k words in a single year. I wont be hard on myself if I can’t accomplish this because honestly finishing anything in the chaos of my life is going to be a miracle but. There ya go.

Third: go back to freakin college. I don’t care what it takes. Sit down with every official, every lawyer, and every professor it takes to get me back enrolled in classes in the fall.

Fourth: I have several smaller things I have to do, short term goals, stuff like that. I’m gonna create a to do list each day of small tasks I want to get done and while some of these things will be part of my daily routine I am throwing in like one or two things a day that just need to be done. My writing goal will change daily and I’ll keep y’all updated on that with every post I make.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Dani! That’s so much!! Well, a few months ago I remembered hey!! I basically have a computer in my hand, why make it hard on myself. So I downloaded certain apps to help me out. This isn’t me saying “hey go subscribe to these apps because I said so” it’s just that through a lot of trial and error I’ve come to find that these certain apps work for me and I’ve yet to come across one that has the functionality of everything I need.

Tiimo — so this is an app I found developed by people with autism for people with autism to help them develop good habits and routines. It has preset daily schedules (things like morning routines or nightly routines or work routines) and an internal alarm to let you know when to move on to the next task. I myself have extremely low-level aspergers (to the point where my doctor won’t give me an official diagnosis because I didn’t want people think that *it’s* the reason I have issues with school), so moving from task to task can be difficult sometimes and I also deal with getting distracted. This widget also appears on my home screen so I know what I have to do at a glance. You can program in weekly and daily tasks to fully customize your schedule, which is fantastic for someone like me who wants to for example rotate chores. This is hopefully going to help me get my body in the habit of adjusting to routines and transitioning from one task to another, as well as getting important things done responsibly.

Promptly Journals — I’ve been told for a while that journaling is helpful mentally to kind of recenter yourself, so a bit ago I downloaded several journal apps to add to my morning routine. Now some will prefer more creatively free journals, but I prefer this one that gives me small prompts I can do in a short amount of time that just allows me to get my thoughts down. I can even add pictures at the bottom that go with the theme! I’m scared I’ll run out of prompts eventually lol but until then this app works very well for my needs.

Stretchingexercise — Now idk if it’s from lack of sleep from my disorder, the position I sleep in when I do sleep, all the physical labor I’ve had to do in the past couple weeks, my medicine, or w h a t but I suffer from body aches like no one would believe. I know stretching is supposed to help with that, so I downloaded this app to help me do non-demanding physical activity that wakes me up in the mornings and helps relieve pain so I don’t keep having to take pain relievers. This one has different plans for things like muscle tension, back pain, warm ups— and it also gives you rudimentary weight updates (I’m underweight lololol so we’re looking to fix that) or plan updates. It’s worked really well for me so far and gives you animations and descriptions of the workouts (some taken from yoga) as well as timed breaks and a narrated guide. It’s been pretty helpful in temporary relief and if nothing else gets my blood flowing in the mornings.

Widgetsmith Step counter — in addition to the stretching thing one thing my doctor and I discussed that helps with the sedentary lifestyle is simply walking. I’ve needed so bad to relieve my stamina and reverse the atrophy, and walks have been stellar for that. Now I live in the New Orleans area so humidity and heat force me to go at the crack of Dawn, but honestly my weenie dachshund Charlie really enjoys our time out so he goes with me! The CDC recommends 10,000 steps a day which seems like a lot and it is if you don’t get out much. But this gives me an excuse to get dressed and do the hygienic thing and help Charlie be healthy too, as well as give me time for brainstorming because we walk in a truly beautiful area. I’m sure everyone installed widgetsmith with the last iOS update (Apple users anyway) and while at first the step counter was just interesting I’ve since come to rely on it! We do our 5000 in the morning, which of course is half, and I find that other things I do throughout the day typically drive the counter higher. Anything leftover can easily be accomplished by an evening walk in our neighborhood. Now the caveat is that I have to remote have my phone in my pocket because I don’t own a watch or anything fancy lol, but honestly I need to keep it on me anyway so that serves as a good reminder.

Todoist — this one is my FAVORITE. Ever since I’ve decided that I have trouble keeping track of things I need to do and small stuff I need to keep in mind and appointments, etc, I decided to find a list app. This is the one I found that absolutely helps me for everything from my list of room supplies I need to buy, to my reading list, to general tasks I have coming up I need to complete. And its widget functionality keeps it right on my Home Screen! More organized individuals can just use tiimo, but I’m definitely not one of those individuals so this app is sorely needed and appreciated.

And of course, I know building habits the first few weeks is HARD. So for days my body doesn’t respond to my alarms, I have a checklist of the key things I have to do to keep my life as functional as possible.

So that’s that on that. I’m going to try to keep writing updates and my daily goals in a post in the morning, and reblog what I accomplished in the evening. It’s gonna be tough. But I’m thinking if I can start small I’ll be able to build my stamina enough to return to college and be successful when I do. I hope that anyone watching this journey draws some kind of meaning or inspiration from it. And you guys can even follow along if y’all want! Especially for writers or people trying to get healthier. I can’t promise what works for me will work for you (and honestly I expect things to change especially if I get accepted into college again) but hey, I figure it’s worth a shot.

I hope you guys enjoy watching this journey, if nothing else I hope it’s entertaining. And maybe it’ll be successful. I do know that I’m just gonna try for it, and hope it works out.

First daily update to follow

Xoxo

Dani

#idiopathic hypersomnia #health and wellness #writing challenge

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funkymbtifiction · 4 years ago

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I have an XNFP friend whose tritype I’m pretty sure is 2w1 phobic 6w7 9w1 (not sure about the order, though), while I (ENFP) think mine is 3w4 cp 6w7 9w8. I am always calling her out for being a doormat for everybody... [...] This kind of situation, akin to a limbo, drives me crazy in all sorts of relationships. Which makes me think maybe I am not 9-fixed like she is, but 8-fixed instead, even though I display many other 9 qualities, like the laziness, procrastination (in other fields, though), passiveness in some kinds of conflict situations (even though sometimes I do fight back, being usually a counter-phobic 6) and the habit of merging into such activities like sleeping, watching TV and running away to fiction as a form of escapism. What do you think? I have this tendency to want to boss people around and get mad at their life choices when they are different from what I would do, which I think may not be a 9 quality at all, as my friend perfectly embodies this whole “I respect your decision, even if I don’t understand it”.

This ask made me smile a lot, because your friend is a 9 core (hence her hatred of conflict and feeling tired of arguing when in your mind, the argument has just started, and her overall “I respect your decision even if I don’t understand it” aspect, which is core 9 + Fi-dom) and... you, my dear friend, are a 2 and not a 3. It’s the 2 who assumes the burden of thinking they know others SHOULD live and what they SHOULD do and who feel resentful if others reject their advice, and it is the 2 who moves to 8 aggression whenever they are stressed or angry, and it is the 2 who can be argumentative at times and want to FINISH THIS and not put up with any more damn nonsense! 2s are more assertive than 9s by far and more willing to have an argument.

This stems, in part, from the core ego of the 2 either over-inflating their sense of rightness and relevance in others’ lives or under-playing it. One of the core signals of a 2, whether a core 2 or a core fixer, is to tell other people what to do -- to ‘help’ and ‘guide’ them in their life’s journey and, I’m sorry to say, how they feel about it isn’t as important as what the 2 sees that needs improved. I’m not throwing shade on you, because I also do this and I can easily recognize the tendency in others. I’ve only recently begun to realize how 2 works as my own image fix -- and it involves assuming that a) when people tell me things, they expect me to fix it (a role I am eager to take on, because I know best -- as you can tell from my handing out of all kinds of unsolicited advice here on funky, including this post ;), and b) being mad when I offer unsolicited advice they choose to reject, because duh, my advice was SOUND AND GOOD.

What this means for you is that you may or may not have an 8 fix; if this happens only once in awhile -- a flare-up, assertiveness, wanting to ‘finish’ something that has started -- then it may be simply 2 moving up its line to 8, and you could still have a 9 fix in your gut center since you relate to some of the numbing out tendencies of the 9. The 2-8 interplay is more explosive, temperamental and... frankly, Molly Weasley-like (she’s a 268). But 2 and 3 are both assertive in the core space, and a 2w3 would be quite forceful on its own terms, self-confident, and want to be seen/listened to. You sound like you do have a 9 fix, although lagging behind a 2 and a 6 (the contrarian who likes to push people once in awhile) it wouldn’t do as much to halt arguments when you’re in the throes of an 8ish desire to put your cards on the table, deal with this, and then move on from a bad relationship. Once a 2 is done, they’re done.

- ENFP Mod

#question #enneagram #enneagram 2 #enneagram 9 #submission

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galadrieljones · 4 years ago

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As You Were (Chapter 4)

Fandom: The Last of Us | Pairing: Joel x OC | Content: Fix-it | Rating: Mature

Masterpost

When Joel and Ellie take a wrong turn on their journey from Pittsburgh to Wyoming, they find themselves lost in, what feels like a time warp: a beautiful place with a dark and dangerous secret. While there, they meet Cici and Noah, a mother and son fighting tirelessly for survival, and who have recently endured a terrible tragedy on their family farm. Amidst their joint desire to find hope for the future, the two groups decide set out west together, changing the course of the story (as we know it), and the very course of their lives.

This is an AU, starting after the events of the Summer chapter in the first game, and extending into the timeline of the second game. Joel lives.

Chapter 4: The Trench (Pt. 1 and 2)

“I’m scared of ending up alone.”

She walked along the river, and she found him sitting on the grassy bank, with his feet in. He still had his boots on. “Don’t,” she said, crouching beside him. “You need to take off your boots first.”

“No you don’t,” he said. He smiled. “Come try it out.”

She sat down, but she didn’t put her feet in the water. The river bank was wet anyway. It was getting her jeans damp. She didn’t feel like taking off her boots. “I thought the whole point was to be free,” she said.

“You can be free any way you like,” he said. “That’s the definition of freedom.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said.

The big blue sky cast out above them as opals. There were no clouds. No anxious metal sounds. There were no fears.

“I know you’re pregnant,” he said. He was staring at his boots in the water. “I saw the test.”

She looked down at her hands. Everybody was always doing that. “You saw it?”

“I didn’t mean to. You left it in the trash. Where did you even find one?”

“Amy,” she said. “She had some, from the Wal-mart. I had to pay her with two chickens.”

“Pretty good deal, considering.”

“Are you mad?” she said.

He looked at her with his brown eyes. Sometimes they could be hard as bolts. Today, they were soft. “Why would I be mad?”

“Because we didn’t mean it,” she said. “My dad is gonna kill me.”

“No he won’t,” said Will. He took her hand and pressed his thumb against her knuckles. “Nobody is gonna die.”

Mom. Don’t go back.

“Cici?”

She opened her eyes. When she looked around, she realized it was morning, well past the break of dawn. She had fallen asleep on the couch. She was looking at Joel now. He was standing in the middle of the living room, wearing a new tee-shirt but the same jeans. He had a rifle on his back, and a shotgun. He was looking confused. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry. Hi.”

“You sleep down here last night?”

“Yeah,” she said. She put her feet on the ground, her face in her palms. “I was just reading, pretty late. I guess I must have been so tired. I slept through the night.”

“Well that ain’t so bad,” said Joel. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “I was just, uh. I was gonna head out, with Noah. He’s gonna show me the work that needs doing on the perimeter. I’m sorry if I startled you.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “You said you’re going with Noah now?”

“Yes, ma’am. He says it shouldn’t take past lunch.”

“I’ll have something ready,” she said. Then, she looked around. “Is Ellie still asleep?”

“No,” said Joel. “She’s out, feeding the chickens and gathering eggs.”

“Oh. Okay, well, good.”

“I think she likes it here,” said Joel, glancing out the window. “She ain’t never spent time outdoors like this before. It’s good for her.”

“I’m glad,” said Cici. She was still sort of out of it. She got up and started walking to the kitchen. “Did Noah make any coffee this morning?”

Joel kind of paused. He seemed taken off-guard but he hid it well. “Noah didn’t mention any coffee,” he said.

“He probably just forgot,” she said, putting a kettle on the stove. “We scavenged a couple big bags from the roastery in town, a couple months ago. I mean, it ain’t fresh, but it does the trick. I can make you some, if you like. It’ll just be a minute.”

Joel walked over to the table. He leaned against one of the chairs. “Uh, sure,” he said. “Sure, that’d be fine.”

“You look dumbfounded,” she said. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” said Joel. “Everything’s, uh, just fine. I just—I ain’t had coffee in a while.”

“How long?”

He glanced down at his watch, which she had noticed early on. It was broken, but she figured there was a good reason he must have kept wearing it, or else it could have just been habit. Grown men were like that, she knew. They just got to doing things for so long sometimes, they forgot why or how. They just kept doing it till they died. “Years,” he said.

“Well, you’re in luck then,” she said. “Would Ellie want some, or is she too young?”

“I don’t think she’d like the stuff,” said Joel.

“Noah doesn’t either,” she said.

Ellie came inside a moment later then, as Cici was boiling the water. She was holding a whole basket full of eggs and looking very pleased with herself. Noah followed behind her with his familiar shotgun set on his shoulder.

“Look at all these eggs,” said Ellie, holding up the basket. “Joel, do you see this?”

"I do.”

“Very good haul,” said Cici. The kettle was whistling. She started pouring the water over the grounds, through a cone, into a mug for Joel. “I’m just making Joel a quick cup of coffee, before you boys head down to the perimeter.”

“You guys got coffee?” said Ellie, sitting down at the table. “Holy shit, Joel. You must be freaking out.”

Joel then gave her a little bit of a side-eye. “I am not freaking out. Though I will admit, it’s a treat.”

Ellie started counting the eggs, one by one. "Anyway," she said. "What do you guys think you’ll see when you go down there? Is it pretty gnarly?"

“Hopefully we'll see nothing,” said Noah. He picked up an apple, from a blue porcelain bowl on the counter. “Hopefully we’ll just finish the trench, reset the mines, and be done.” He took a bite.

"Good," said Ellie.

“I’m just happy to see the two of you out of danger,” said Joel, sitting back in his chair. “Whatever I can do. This place deserves a second chance.”

Cici just focused on the coffee. She wanted it to be good.

When they got outside, Noah took Joel out to the crow’s nest where he wanted to pick up a small canister of gasoline and a lighter and some other stuff, including the replacement mines, and a true blue improved explosive. That one, said Noah, was more or less just some parts his mom had made for a fancy pipe bomb, plus a proximity sensor. He had them up there stored in a backpack. When they got up to the top of the ladder, Joel notice the Pearl Jam poster and did a double-take. In some ways, being on that farm in the middle of nowhere, it felt like he had stepped through some sort of time warp.

“My dad liked them,” said Noah, reading his mind, pocketing a book of matches and loading his 9mm, which he then holstered in the waist of his jeans. “That was his.”

“That’s a blast from the past,” said Joel.

“What year were you born?” said Noah.

The question was surprising, and direct. Both Noah and Cici had these unfiltered ways about them in which they could sit in complete silence for multiple moments at a time, but then, out of nowhere, abruptly come to the truth, simply asking and saying the things they meant with very little pretense or warning. “Uh, 1984,” said Joel.

“Dang,” said Noah. “You’re as old as my Uncle Nick.”

“Who's Uncle Nick."

“My mom’s step-brother," said Noah. "He was old enough that he was in Iraq.”

“What year?”

“2004, I think, was the start of his first tour."

Joel took a deep breath. He had his hands on his hips as he was nodding his head to the memory. “Yeah, I knew a lot of guys that enlisted,” he said, “after 9/11, in 2003. At the time, it seemed like there was something to fight for. It wasn’t that uncommon where I grew up.”

“Did you enlist?” said Noah.

“No,” said Joel, glancing back to the poster. It was a silkscreen, from a concert in Madison, probably back in like 1996.

“Why not?”

“I thought about it, but I had—well, I had other responsibilities at the time.”

Noah just stared at him, unclear.

“Let’s get a move on,” said Joel.

It took them about twenty minutes to get all the way to the section of the perimeter that needed maintenance. Noah said this was an especially vulnerable spot, as it pushed right up against the woods, with a wide frontage to the Kickapoo River just a few miles away on the other side. To get there, they had to follow the creek, which was overgrown in some parts with a great deal of bramble. At some point, they emerged and then had to walk through about five acres of arable land that had gone to seed. There was also a fairly overgrown apple orchard, and a field of actual, farmed corn, plus a stable, in the distance. Most of the trek was downhill, but the sun was hot that day. They were cooking.

Noah didn’t talk much. Joel was getting a little apprehensive about what, exactly, it was they were going to run into out there. He knew they were going to finish digging a trench, and he knew they would have to navigate their way through a live minefield, using the map that Noah had stuffed in his back pocket. He trusted the kid, and he trusted Cici, but he still had no idea what the hell he was doing. Part of him was worried about getting a leg blown off. The other part was amped up, just in case they were set to run into a horde. There were a lot of trees out there, and he didn’t really understand how it was they had kept this place fully booby-trapped in such an organized fashion for so long all by themselves. But then he thought about Bill, back in Massachusetts and suddenly, based on his most recent memories of a life lived with Tess, in which the two of them survived mainly by navigating the loopholes of a fully-fledged but decaying QZ, he began to realize that perhaps the kind of hard work he was used to, in the grand scheme of things, wasn’t that difficult at all.

“You know, I asked your mom yesterday,” said Joel as they scaled down a shallow ridge overgrown with prickly shrubs, “about whether y’all had some idea of what’s been causing the increase in activity out here, with Infected.”

“What did she tell you?” said Noah.

“She told me to talk to you.”

When they got to the bottom of the ridge, they walked a little further out, through a meadow with a dry well. Up ahead, finally, they saw it—the minefield. It was on the other side of an electric fence, about ten feel high. The fence had barbed wire spooled along the top, but it didn’t seem to be properly electric anymore, as there was a huge hole cut in the links, which they took turns squeezing through.

“You know how I told you, the water, coming in from the Kickapoo, the Bad Axe, some other major tributaries off the Mississippi, it’s ain’t safe?” said Noah.

“Yeah,” said Joel.

“Well, one day,” said Noah—he had a machete, which he was now using to hack through some of bramble on the other side of the fence, “about a year and a half ago, we heard a distress call from the Amish. There used to be a whole huge family of them on the other side of them woods, over north. They didn’t use the radio, but they had a hand-powered siren, which they would use to signal any threats in the area.”

“These the Amish that got the scrapyard?”

“Yeah,” said Noah. “They were called the Lapps, before. Anyway, when the siren went off, my dad and my uncle went over there, and some of the other guys in the area that we knew. They thought they were gonna find maybe some reavers, or a small horde, wandering in from the town. But when they got there, it was like, the whole entire family was turning. Every single one of them, like dozens of people, infected, at the same time. It was insane, my dad said. It was starting to rain, so my dad and my uncle, they just herded them all into the barn and locked them in, and then they came home. They said it was bizarre. If one person gets infected and starts turning other people, why did the distress call come in so late? Why weren’t there more dead? Everybody was just sick, they said. All at once, as if they'd all been infected at the same time.”

Joel was focused on his footing, stepping through the tall grasses. There were so many grasshoppers, you couldn’t count. “Did you figure out what caused it?"

“Eventually,” said Noah. “We were used to using a well, which draws on a aquifer, under the ground, for our water. But the Amish, after the Outbreak in 2013, they apparently started hauling their water in straight from the river, fished it all the time.”

“Spores in the river?”

“In all the rivers,” said Noah.

“How?”

“All the tributaries coming into the floodplain, they’re all contaminated. A couple of travelers came through not long after the outbreak at the Lapp farm. They said that every city up and down the Mississippi, and on a major tributary, everywhere is going nuts with Infected. They said that, in LaCrosse, you could see the Cordyceps, growing right off the banks. There was something going on.”

“Jesus.”

“So like a year ago,” Noah continued, “all of us—me, my mom, my dad, and my uncle, we went up to LaCrosse.” He stopped in his tracks then, took a long drink of water from a canteen in his backpack.

“What happened?” said Joel.

“We got cornered by a horde before we could make it into the city,” he said, “in a church just south of Shelby. There was a fire. My mom and me got out, barely. My dad and my uncle didn’t. By the time the two of us got back to Viroqua, the rest of the Amish in the area had either abandoned their farms, or turned. The whole town, anybody left in this part of the Driftless, they were almost all of them gone. Dead, turned, or gone.”

Joel felt heavy, blindsided. He looked at his boots in the tall grass, getting wet from the river marsh. When he looked up now, he could see it there, in its glory: the minefield. Just like a long, flat expanse of grass that spread out, stretching around the property, maybe about twenty yards deep. On the other side of the minefield was the trench, and then a whole lot of trees, growing up the side of a wooded ridge. “Everything you just told me, that’s all true?” he said.

“Yes.”

“Jesus Christ, kid.”

“I know.”

“You said there are others in the area. The Amish who got the scrapyard. Some of them survived?”

“Yeah,” said Noah. “One of the families had been on a supply run, eastward, during the outbreak. They came back, and they stayed. They still live over the hill. There are a few others, a couple families here and there. My Aunt Amy, she was married to my Uncle Nick, she left a little bit after we got back from LaCrosse, went down to the Quad Cities with her daughter. They had family down there, on Amy’s side, in Moline. We’ve tried to keep tabs on what’s going on down there, but it all went dark a while ago. I have no idea if they made it.”

“So you think the Infected, they’re coming down the river, with the spores.”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t know why, or how, the water became like it is? Because it ain’t like that in the northeast. Spores infecting people through the water supply is news to me.”

“We don’t know what’s causing it,” said Noah. “We know there’s something going on in LaCrosse, but we’ve never gone back.”

Joel took a deep breath. “I’m really sorry, son,” he said. “I am. That’s a tough hand.”

“Thanks,” said Noah, shaking his head. “But I doubt it’s any worse than your sob story, or Ellie’s, or any of the other sob stories you must hear traveling around these days.”

“That don’t matter,” said Joel. He regarded Noah, whose cynicism was familiar to his own. “In the grand scheme of things, one loss might seem meaningless, but just because a lot of people are dying that don’t mean the people that you lose, that their lives held any less significance to you when they were still alive. You get that?”

Noah was just staring at him, as if the words he was hearing were foreign, or new. He did, however, nod stiffly, and then he looked away. Joel didn’t know if it had gotten through. He just felt for the boy.

“All the shit we need to do, it’s up there,” said Noah.

Joel squinted past the minefield toward the trench. “It looks like it’s nearly finished.”

“It is,” he said. “The Infected tripped two mines and one bomb yesterday. We’ll clean up the trench, and then we'll replace the explosives. With you here, it’ll be fast.”

“What are the odds we’re gonna run into Infected out there at that trench?” said Joel. “There’s a lot of trees.”

“I don’t know,” said Noah. He took the map out of his back pocket, unfolded it. It was hand-drawn in blue pen. “They hang out in there sometimes, because it’s cool. They get lost, and then they freak out if they hear you. Just like, stay alert. And while we’re in the minefield, follow in my footsteps exactly so that you don’t blow up. We’ll go slow.”

Joel sighed profoundly. He closed his eyes, gathered his courage, prayed to the good lord nothing would happen, knowing it was fruitless, but doing it anyway. “Alright then," he said.

By noon, they had finished the trench. The sun was high, and they were both sweating and starving, ready for some respite. Joel watched Noah assemble the pipe bomb while leaning against a shovel in the shade of a lavish white oak. Noah had about him a sense of precision that suggested he had been doing this sort of thing from a very young age.

“Where the hell did y’all learn to do all this?” said Joel. His gray tee-shirt was almost soaked through with sweat. He was dirty and he could feel the sunburn on the back of his neck.

“My Uncle Nick,” he said. “The one who was in Iraq.”

“That what he did over there?” said Joel.

“Yeah,” said Noah. “It was basically his whole job to disarm these things. He also went to some African countries after his initial tours for demining operations.”

“Goddam. That’s some brave business.”

“Still took a zombie apocalypse and a church fire to kill him,” said Noah, digging out an impression in the dirt with his bare hands. “Fucking clown world.”

“You’re telling me,” said Joel. “You almost done?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’m gonna go take a leak,” said Joel, looking around. “You good?”

Noah nodded, working carefully. “Just be careful.”

“I will,” said Joel.

After showing her how to sheer a sheep that morning, Cici showed Ellie all the different, easy parts you need to make a perfectly compact pipe bomb. “You can take it with you anywhere,” she said. “You can make them fancy, but they don’t need to be fancy. This gets the job done.”

They were out in the shed, which was more or less a workspace. It was all full of guns, assembled and in pieces, hanging on the wall, and in piles. There were axes, machetes, and two grindstones. There were shelves and shelves of different sized containers and wires, all colors and lengths, lining the walls. As Cici worked, Ellie sat on the tool bench, watching, rapt, by the good light coming through the window. “Where did you learn to do all this?” she said eventually.

“From my step-brother,” said Cici. “He was an EOD specialist in the Army.”

“What’s that stand for?”

“Explosive Ordnance Disposal.”

"That’s insane,” said Ellie. “Back in Boston, we had some demolition training, but it was basically just like, how to make five different versions of a Molotov cocktail.”

“Those work pretty well, too,” said Cici.

“Later, I met this guy, Bill—he knows Joel—and he had basically trip-wired this entire little town where he lived. He showed Joel how to make nail bombs, too.”

“Nail bombs are not that much different than what we’re doing here,” said Cici. “Maybe a little cruder.”

“Seems a lot cruder.”

“So how do you like it?” said Cici. “Traveling with him? With Joel.”

“It’s okay,” said Ellie. She rested her chin on her knees. “He’s kind of...terse. Just sometimes though. He doesn’t talk much. When he does, I don't know. It’s okay. He seems a little stern, I know, but he's really not that bad.”

“He said you lost some people, back east. In Boston. And in Pittsburgh. I just—I wanted to say I’m sorry. That must have been really hard, and really scary.”

Ellie looked down at her Converse. One of them had come untied. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s not really...easy. I guess.”

“No, it isn’t.” Cici completed the pipe bomb, set it neatly on the workbench between them, like a cake. She didn’t press for details, on Boston, or Pittsburgh. “Voilà,” she said.

Ellie was oddly comforted. “That’s so freakin cool,” she said.

Back at the house, Cici got Ellie started on making a new loaf of bread. Meanwhile, she sliced up a fresh loaf from the pantry and set about making sandwiches.

“So, you go from making bombs to making sandwiches, huh?” said Ellie. She was standing at the counter kneading the dough. It was squishy, she thought. Weirdly satisfying.

“Pretty much,” said Cici. She had prepared four tall ham and cheese sandwiches, on sourdough. Simple fare. For the them, and for Joel and Noah. “Sometimes, we watch movies. Maybe we can watch one tonight.”

“This is my kind of living,” said Ellie.

They smiled at each other.

But then.

“What the fuck was that?” said Ellie.

They heard the mines going off, one by one, well into the distance. A rapid succession. Too many.

"Cici?"

“Shit."

"Was that the mines?" said Ellie. "Are they okay? What the fuck?"

In the trees, Joel zipped up and resituated himself. The thicket out there beyond the trench was quite beautiful. The nature sounds were almost deafening but in a way that suggested an earthly innocence. Joel was used to wearing a backpack, but with a home nearby, he didn’t really need one that day, so he felt light, despite the sweat and the physical exhaustion. Oddly enough, it had felt good to dig and to use his strength for something productive. Rather than killing, he was building for once. It had been a long time. He took the shotgun off his shoulder and checked the rounds. The sound it made was metal and ran in cacophony to the ongoing symphony of the trees.

He’d gone out maybe only ten yards or so, from Noah, who he could no longer hear but he could still see, through a crack in the foliage. He had made sure not to get beyond sight. Ready to head back, he put the gun strap back over his shoulder and took a step, breaking a twig beneath his boot, and the sound should have been innocuous, but instead, it seemed to trigger a familiar, inhuman noise nearby, and then that seemed to trigger another.

Joel swore under his breath, pumped the shotgun, and waited. He stood very still and listened to the cicadas clicking off in the trees in that ongoing rhythm, and out the corner of his eye he then saw something woman-shaped dart between a break in the foliage. If he truly parsed the noise of the thicket he could hear their heavy, frantic breathing. It was stalkers.

In slow silence he backed out of the thicket and made his way back to Noah at the trench. Noah was finishing up his wiring of the pipe bomb to the motion sensor and said something about how they were pretty much all set to go, whenever Joel was ready. Joel shushed him.

“Fuck,” said Noah, in a whisper. He picked up his shotgun off the earth. “What is it?”

“Stalkers,” said Joel. “I caught sight of one, but there’s more.”

"If we stay quiet, we can—”

But it was too late. They heard unsteady footsteps coming up the thicket. Raising their guns, they waited. A runner, looked to be a man, dressed in fishing gear stumbled out of the trees, bloodied up, shivering and afraid. Joel and Noah tried to stand perfectly still, but it saw them, and they were backed against the minefield, and it was no choice. Joel blew the thing’s jaw clean off. It dropped to the soil in silence, but the sound of the gun brought the stalkers out of the trees.

“Follow as close as you can,” said Noah.

“I will. Now go.”

It happened fast. As they navigated the mines, the sounds of the Infected in the woods rose up behind them in a maelstrom. There were way too many, maybe two dozen, must have been dormant in there, fucking lulled under the shade. When they got to the fence, Joel and Noah slipped back through the other side, turning around to watch a whole shitload, gnashing through the trees and descending upon the perimeter in total disorganization. Several fell into the trench, and the rest tripped the mines, plus the brand new pipe bomb, causing loud explosions that shrouded the whole field in a cloud of dust and smoke.

Joel and Noah hit the earth. It was so loud, Joel could feel the ringing in his ears vibrating in his teeth, and when, as he caught his bearings, he finally looked up, realizing it wasn’t over, Noah was dragging him to his feet, shouting something incomprehensible. Then, GET BACK. Scrambling into the tall grass, Joel watched as Noah lit up the canister of gasoline with a couple rags and chucked it as far and hard as he could past the barbed wire spools over the fence. When it landed, it blew to high heaven and in its wake, the sounds of all the Infected leftover from the mines turned to chaotic agony. There were birds dismounting from the trees in all directions, squawking. Then, a deadly quiet.

“Fucking shit,” said Noah, stumbling backward. He fell to his hands and knees, coughing from the dust.

As the ringing died down in his ears and in his molars, the afternoon seemed to crack wide open. Joel was on his back, staring up at the clear blue sky. “You okay?” he said.

Noah was heaving now, out of breath, covered in the detritus from head to toe. He walked over, held out his hand, hauled Joel back to his feet. “Yeah,” he said. “You?”

“I’m okay,” said Joel. He dusted himself off, still coughing and waving his way through the dust. He tripped forward to the fence and pressed into it, trying to make anything out at at all in the minefield. He could see some of the blistering bodies, smell the explosive energy, the roasting, human carnage. It was horrific. Then, he saw the trench. “Goddammit,” he said. “The whole thing is pulled up again.

Noah was keeled over, squinting out at the trees. “This place is fucked,” he said, more to himself than anything. “Lets get the fuck out of here.”

Cici took the walkie out of her back pocket. She shouted into it for a while, but nobody answered. She then rushed them out of the house.

"Where are we going?" said Ellie.

"Crow’s nest.”

Up the ladder, Ellie felt like she was just blowing in the wind, no direction. But Cici had kicked into some sort of military high gear. She was holding a sniper rifle, which Ellie did not remember seeing her grab. She then handed Ellie a loaded rifle of her own, which had been hanging on a hook by the door. It felt heavy and wooden, but Ellie understood it. Cici asked if Ellie knew what to do.

“Yeah,” said Ellie, shaken. “Joel showed me. In Pittsburgh."

She then handed Ellie a pair of binoculars, told her to watch the horizon, westerly. Ellie did as she was told.

The sun was hot. There were no clouds. The sky was big and blue, as a gem. She spotted a few plumes of smoke at the perimeter, but she didn't see Noah or Joel. If she couldn't see Joel, she didn’t know what she was supposed to be looking for. All those explosions had sent her into an adrenaline-baked sort of panic, so that when Cici finally got Noah on the walkie, Ellie was so fucking relieved, she let go of the binoculars so that they thudded to the floor. She felt stupid, picked them up immediately, but then closed her eyes and felt an unexpected flood, again. Like she wanted to go home. Whatever that meant. But it was really powerful. She thought she might puke. She held it inside. “Holy shit,” she said.

“We’re okay,” said Noah over the walkie. “Infected ambushed us at the trench. But it’s done. Over.”

“Thank fucking god,” said Cici. “Me and Ellie got the scope on your location, just in case. Over.”

“Thanks,” said Noah. “I’m pretty sure they’re all fried. But they took the trench with them, and a bunch of the mines. We had to light up the rest with gasoline. The whole section is fucked up, even worse than before. Over.”

“Jesus Christ,” said Cici, hanging her head. “Okay. You boys just get back here. Over.”

“Okay."

Over.

Ellie watched then as Cici set down the walkie and leaned, slowly, against the rifle, almost struggling to keep her balance. She had her eyes pressed shut, as if praying. Her blond hair was braided over her shoulder, but the plaits were all loose now. “Fuck,” she said, in a whisper.

"They're okay," said Ellie.

But Cici was talking to herself then. Not in a crazy way, just a stressed way, almost like she had forgotten that Ellie was in the room. “I can’t do this anymore,” she was saying.

"That’s my fucking brother," he said.

She was not okay, in the radio tower.

"Screw it."

Ellie went over to Cici and placed her hand on Cici’s shoulder. She didn’t want to be standing there alone anymore, and the smell of the smoke was starting to waft in with the breeze.

#the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #tlou fanfic #ellie tlou #joel tlou #as you were #cw:#violence #new banner!!#pirated that font good and plenty #<3

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jorgesmedicine-blog · 6 years ago

Text

Fibromyalgia (Bad Vibration)

Fibro: Fibra: Vibra: Vibracion Myal: Mal (Bad) Gia: Yah (Yah) Vibras mal yah. (Espanol) - Bad vibrations yah (English)

The worries. The worries have gotten all the way down to the deepest level, the bones, the skeleton. Close to your purpose in life, in alignment with the worries and pains of your ancestors. You asked to heal the pain that you carry, you asked to feel the pain that you carry. Now is up to you to find the way to heal it.

Bad vibration, the worries, the stress, the anger, the blaming. Tumbling inside from one side to the other, getting stronger and stronger. The worries, the accumulation of emotions, feelings waving inside our body going from here to there, until in one spot we dwell deep and the pain explodes!

A vision appears, a vision of pain, new information coming in, memories of the past and future related to your present, the pain bringing our full awareness to this moment. The self pity, the sorrows and the intense pain, blurring the content of the vision, taking away with it the secret to overcome that pain, taking away the instructions indicating what needs to be done to release that energy to the world and transform that energy once for all. If we’re blurred by our own blindness, we can’t see clearly these instructions, so the pain continues waving from here to there, like the tides and waves of the ocean, continuing its journey inside our body.

Is it not knowing how to let go? not being aware in that moment of pain that you can let go? not knowing how to sneak out from worries, so the worries pin us down with killing eyes, driven by our fearful pitiful reaction. Once the worries got you and you are dominated by fear, that is the end of the game. Yet, in that moment there’s nothing else but pain, words of reason loose their relevance.

Bad body postures, day after day, static postures, sitting in a chair for too long, sitting on your car for too long, looking at the screen for too long, repeatedly day after day bad postures, the lower back, the higher back, the feet, the neck, the shoulders, the butt, sleeping in the same place, sitting on the same chairs, walking on the same floors, on an imposed schedule that overtire us. Can a cure be invented to avoid this things from happening? Hint: The answer is not a kneeling chair or a fancy padding pillow for your shoes.

Have we been doing what we hate for too long? Don’t we know how not to do what we hate anymore? What are those things that we’re tired of? or tired by? Is how we think of money the source of these pains?

I have faith that the cure for this pain is inside each one of us. The cure for pain, is contained in the pain itself. No doctor, physician, or psychologist can give you a pill to cure your pain (maybe the lobotomist can think of a cure, but they would be throwing the bathtub out the window with baby and all). No pill can cure this pain, it could only numb it down. How can we see this cure that is inside us? How can we understand what this pain is trying to tell us? I listen to it. This pain is trying to tell me: Let go. Let go. Let go.

Everybody wants to get better, everybody wants to stop feeling this pain. Who will be the one brave enough to stand up for their bodies? To take the time to listen to it? to do what needs to be done to be able to heal it? to stop doing so much all the time? Life cannot be postponed, no doctor would be able to fix Fibromyalgea with pills or surgery or massages. This is a normal reaction of our bodies after doing all the unhealthy things we do to it in this way of living, this is our body telling us something very deep about our existence, about life.

We push ourselves like machines, expecting everything to work the same way, not having any space for change, not having room to be relaxed, room to make mistakes. We expect our bodies to work for years non stop in uncomfortable positions, in body and mind jails. The rhythm of life taking us away, with nothing else we can do for this pain but complaint about it, but enduring it, but numbing it down, but telling it to go away, to shut up, as if the pain didn’t belong to us, as if it wasn’t us who were meant to feel it. Take responsibility of your pain, make it yours, don’t deny it day after day.

I’ve been dealing with my pain by identifying it early, identifying when there’s a build up (feelings or emotions), identifying when the pain needs to come and preparing for it. Breathing is the most important thing, is the only thing you have to remember in that moment. Let go immediately of whatever problem, worry, stress I have in that moment. Really, just let it go, the thoughts have derailed in a down spiral, nothing of what I could be thinking is of any importance, as the pain is telling me to let go, NOW.

Let go. Breathe. Breathe in. Breathe out. Take a deep breath in, take a deep breath out, hold your breath for a few moments then continue breathing. Could the cure be any easier? Could it be anymore obvious and simple? Could the cure be any harder?

Let go even more. Lay down. Relax. Relax fully. Relax your whole body. For this moment don’t think about the future, don’t think about the past, only this moment exists. Let go of the worries for this moment, don’t you worry, they’ll be there when we go back, but for now my pain is asking me to let go and to lay down, to rest my body for this moment because I haven’t been listening to it, I’ve been treating it like a machine, what alternative does this way of living give us? Let go. Breathe.

Breathe in deeply, all the way down to your belly bottom, fill up your lungs as much as you can, hold it for a few seconds, then let go all of the air from your lungs, until you have to tight your stomach muscles to get the rest of the air out. Focus on your breathing, which is the only thing you need to think about right now, everything else can wait. Continue breathing until you feel full of air, oxygenated.

As you’re breathing in, imagine all the energy of the air flowing towards the pain, and as you’re breathing out imagine the muscles relaxing doing the same thing as you, breathing out and letting it all go, the muscles breathing out the pain, the bones releasing the tension, releasing the tightness, the rigidness, the hardness, and allowing themselves to be what they are, allowing yourself to be what you are, allowing everything to be what it is.

Let go. Let go and see for yourself what your pain is trying to tell you, this is what it told me, not everyone can talk pain anyways, but if you have a pain, I recommend that you learn how to communicate with it. A pain is a pain, a pain is life, is part of life, is something put here with a purpose, a pain cannot be ignored for too long, or it becomes chronic, an addictive pain, just like in the Stockholm syndrome where the victim becomes used to their captor. Not only we get used to it, we become afraid of not having it, we continue doing habitually the same things to keep it there, we blame it on life for our pains or the government, or our parents, or the planets.

When pain comes: - Let go. Allow everything to be what it is. Own your pain. - Breathe. - Breathe to the pain. - Breathe to the muscles, organs and bones. - Lay down wherever you are. Relax your body. Do nothing. - Listen to what your pain is trying to communicate.

Implement this to your life, do it regularly, do it naturally, on your own terms and timing. Don’t have to wait until the pain is incapacitating, the sooner you act, the more you’ll be prepared to receive the wave. Own your pain, take responsibility for your pain. You should feel a difference from the very first breath, even if you’ve never done it before. After breathing for a minute or two, you should feel more relaxed and accepting of what’s happening. Remember to breath deeply through out the day, do it as soon as you remember that you’ve forgotten, this will help you think better and blood flow regulates. Do it as much as you need to, as much as your body asks you for it. We are doing too much and we have to find the way to let go.

Write down in your journal, after the pain passed, about the experience you had, where the pain happen, what it tried to communicate. Sometimes recipe ideas for medicines, or exercises, or mantras come in as well during visions of pain, make sure to write those down too. Write down your improvements.

When we are in pain, we’re not good for anybody else but for ourselves. When the pain goes, it’s time to seek for a way of healing the deep wounds. The deep wounds are heavily tied with the current society, where it came from, its way of living, its believes, its thoughts on darkness and light, the way children are raised, the way God is generally portrait. Question everything and be sure of nothing. Your body is a gift, your body is a miracle, inside it are the answers to all of your questions, inside it is the signature of the intelligence that created it, trust that intelligence, trust that your soul is here to see the beauty of that intelligence as a whole, trust that your body wants to be healthy.

Getting rid of the pain completely: - Make a list of the things that are causing you pain (driving too much, sleeping uncomfortably, money stress, sitting on a chair for too long, not enough rest, on your feet for too long, etc.) - Start thinking how you could change those causers of pain. - Change those causers of pain. One at a time. Change your life style. With the life style come the bad habits, and the way we think of ourselves and our bodies.

Thank you and flowing vibrations.

#fibromyalgia #breathing #letgo #lifestyle #habits #medicine #meditation #body

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