#I am medicated I am in my lane I am THRIVING | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kaspmatic · 5 years ago

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How would you say you relate to Eddie?

BIG FUCKING OOF –ok, I hope you guys are ready to go on a wild ride with me down memory lanehere. there is quite a bit that I can cover on how I relate to Eddie – soplease bear with me and if you read this then; kudos, brownie points, goldstars, all of that shit to you. I’m going to put my actual answer under a read morebecause I know this is going to get lengthy. And honestly, probably a littlepatchy and I might jump around a bit so I won’t force this shit on anyone whowon’t intentionally click that read more for the deets. LOL.

OVERBEARINGFAMILY - REPRESSED HOMOSEXUALITY

To lay a little backgroundon everyone, I grew up NOT knowing my biological father. I lost himat a young age and spent a lot of my younger years growing up with a singlemother – my mom worked in a hospital, so every little thing that happenedbecame a giant issue; I had a cough? go to the doctors. I was always cold? goto the doctors. I sneezed funny? go to the doctors. (I think you guys get mydrift with where I’m going here). as a child I spent a lot of time in and out of thehospital because of this, now I’m not saying my mom has Munchausen Syndrome byany means, she definitely didn’t force diseases onto me. I justrelate and understand that pain of always having to go to the hospitalfor the most trivial of concepts. As a child, however, I did spend quite a fewyears toting around an inhaler that I didn’t even fucking need. Call it a baddiagnosis or whatever you will – but it was still something that I had todo that I didn’t even need.

Not having my dad aroundlead for a lot of weird and one-sided views in my mind throughout my youngeryears of life – for a long time I had only the woman’s point of view onevery aspect (at least until my mom remarried years later - I was in myteens by that time).

To continue talking aboutmy overbearing mom – she still tries to be to this way alongsideher husband to this very day (hi, I’m fucking 32 years old here – just tothrow out my Grandma age on tumblr so you aren’t shocked in a paragraph or two).Everything has to be done a certain way or its wrong – they thrive on avery myway or the highway look of things, and this has been something that Ihave constantly had to push back against in more recent years - because I havefound love and support from those who are willing to tell me that its fuckingOK to not be the person your parents want you to be.

Like Eddie, I’ve lost partsof myself throughout life appeasing my family with moldingmyself to fit what they thought I should be - what I needed to be. The biggestissue being homosexuality. I grew up with a Catholic Grandmother who wouldat anychance and drop of a hat find any reason to bitch about the gaysin the most hate speech and closed minded filled way I have everheard in my entire existence. I grew up believing that I couldn’t come out –that I couldn’t truly be who I wanted to be because my family wouldn’t be onboard and I was terrified that they wouldn’t understand or support me and Ibelieved wholeheartedly that if I DID comeout, that I would lose each and every family member that I had becausemy Grandma and other members of my family have very strict views on it - andneed I repeat, are overwhelming overbearing and controlling. When I was firststruggling with the idea that I was part of the queer community, oddly enough,I was 13. By this point in time I was used to listening to my Grandma bitchabout the LGBT+ community for years. I remember one instancedirectly with my mom; we were on a vacation and I remember asking my mom what shethought of the LGBT+ community and she told me flat out that I wasn’t allowedto be Gay.

That right there told me everythingthat my young mind needed to hear. That no matter who I was as a person, that myfamily wouldn’t support me – even over something so simple as lovingsomeone of the same sex. I spent the next 17 years hiding who I was, just toappease the ideals that I thought I had to adhere to. I dated strictlyboys and it landed me in unhappy relationship after unhappy relationship– ultimately my last relationship with a CIS male was a completelycontrolling and abusive one. One where they wanted to control everyaspect of my life - much like how Myra does to Eddie once he’s given in andfallen to Sonia’s whims and has told himself that he has to take the easy wayout. I was miserable in the relationship and everything had to beapproved of by him. It was some of the darkest times in my life but thatrelationship was one that defined me and really made me realize just how unhappyof a life I was leading just by appeasing those around me.

Granted, my repression andcloseted sexuality doesn’t end there. I got out of that relationship when I was22 and spent years recovering from the sheer amount of abuse I was taking fromhim – all the while I was still so tightly wound into the clutches of myparents. I traded off from one controlling household, to a new controllinghousehold, and back to the one in which molded me.

I spent the next 8 yearsgoing through a lot – all the while I was being medicated on anything andeverything under the sun just to right me as a person – because obviouslythat’s the answer here. I spent a lot of time in and out of hospitals due tobad reactions to medications, medications not mixing well, just generallytrying to get myself back to WHO I was. I was just a shell of myself duringthese years, I was in college and struggling even more so with myself and mysexuality as a free bird – so to speak. I tried dating around and nevertold my family when I was with a woman because I didn’t know how. I didn’t knowhow to tell a family so openly against it that’s who I waswith. So, I continued to lie and appease and struggle.

The entirety of my closetedyears – those 17 years – I struggled with every sexual thought Ihad toward a woman. I hated myself. Told myself I was wrong and that it wasn’twhat I was supposed to do. It took me a long time and some reallyfucked up situations to really start to love myself for me. To understand thatno matter what – whether my family love me or accept me – that I am who Iam and NO ONE can fucking changethat.

Granted this story at thevery least has a happy ending, unlike Eddie’s, I met Ari and finally came outat 30 – much to part of my family’s dislike – but my parents wereaccepting and my Mom ultimately didn’t even fucking remember the trauma she hadinduced when I was young. BUT I DIGRESS….

EMOTIONS - DEALING WITHEMOTIONS

Eddie and I both similarlyshow our emotions – and it’s not always in the best light. I struggle withsomething called Emotional Overwhelm which I actually have a headcanon for I’vebeen meaning to write up for Eddie for fucking weeks since I went and saw ITChapter 2’s early release. It’s something that I recognized in Eddie and reallystruggle dealing with in day to day life. Emotional Overwhelm is an instancewhere things kind of pile the fuck up – everything,even if it’s something small, can feel like a deep wound. People whostruggle with emotional overwhelm feel things differently than normal – anoffhanded comment that could make one person laugh and blow it off will feellike a stab to the heart and a betrayal to someone who deals with it. Strugglingwith this kind of an emotional issue causes me to lash out at unnecessary timesand can be rather debilitating in relationships if your friends, family, oryour partners don’t understand it. It’s worse when you feel a sense of being “gangedup on” (at least for me) so during times of joking around I can easily lash outand take a simple joke as a complete attack.

My chest constricts – mybody will not allow me to breathe easily and if I don’t force it – and ithurts deeper than it should. My anxiety runs high during these times and that panicsets in deep. I can’t fathom emotions if there are too many in place, my mindwill refuse to address them so they pile up. During this time, my mind will fogand I can’t even process anything being said – for instance; if I’m in asituation where issues are being listed off to me and I start to hit thatemotional overwhelm peak – my mind is still focused on exhibit A while theperson is already listing exhibit E. My mind will not allow me to process situationslike this as a WHOLE not in a rapid-firesuccession. The buildup can be excruciating and takes a toll on my body that itall will spill out in a sassy, feisty, and – for the lack of a better word – kindof a shitty outburst.

Having these outbursts stemfrom growing up in a household where I wasn’t appropriately taughthow to handle my emotions. My family were not people who would discuss emotionsor situations where my emotions got “out of control” – it was always a “stophaving emotions” type argument. I was gaslighted, manipulated, and bullied intothinking any and all emotions were bad. Plain and simple. I wasn’t allowed tocompose my emotions into words as this was not a thing that would everhappen with my family.

Much like Eddie, I tend tohave my emotions out there regardless of what I was taught – regardless ofbeing able to recognize those emotions I hate talking about them. It’s a viciouscycle. Discussing my emotions brings out my emotional overwhelm and it’s justan all-around messy situation at that. So, I try my best to hide my emotions– I clench my jaw, I go silent, I refuse to talk about it, I completelyshut down – I’m stubborn. It takes someone remarkably special and someone Itrust completely for me to really level with them – to be raw and showevery little bit of emotion that I have. Someone who is tolerable of it andunderstands what I’m going through, how I process my emotions… So needless to say,I have only ONE person who I feel comfortable with being this raw andvulnerable towards given my home life. So, a lot of the time my emotions– if every questioned by anyone will mostly be met with anger, because itwas the one emotion I was used to receiving growing up. It’s easier to lash outthan it is to make yourself vulnerable.

When I’m not having a terriblytraumatizing day and my emotional overwhelm hasn’t taken over, I tend to hide myemotions behind my sass. If I magically have a day where I’m notcompletely losing it and on an emotional overload type of day, my hurt showsthrough real quick sass and sometimes it’s not always tasteful. My brainto filter usually shuts off when I’m hurt and I feel like I’m being come for.

UNDIAGNOSEDADHD - MENTAL HEALTH

Ok, this is another headcanonsituation I want to write up – mostly because of instances between Chapter 1 andChapter 2 that I picked up on. But I’m a firm believer that Eddie has undiagnosedADHD – take for instance the entire scene where they’re first introduced to TheClubhouse. Eddie’s reaction and the way he bounces from subject to subject withhalf sentences, his reaction to the paddle ball with Stan, his rapid fire nearlystumbling speech. I wholeheartedly believe that Sonia wasn’t concerned in theleast about mental health issues, only concerned for issues that would harmEddie physically and more in the realm of physical health issues.

Much like this, my Mom wasadamant that I didn’t have ADHD and refused to have me tested by any means. Istruggle with half sentences where my mind will be moving faster than my mouthor fingers – I notice this more when I’m typing, whether it be having adiscussion on discord or responding to replies. I don’t know how many times Ihave gone back to proof read and somehow, I’m missing portions of sentences andeverything is nearly a half thought. My mind processes things too quickly andone moment I’ll have my attention in one place and within a second something elsewill catch my attention. It’s always fast and catches nearly everyone around meoff guard that don’t really understand what’s going on.

To kind of wrap this backaround to my abusive situation and the lack of HELP in the metal health realm where the Mom’s are concerned. WhileI was dealing with these issues I dealt with a lot of mental health ailments(ptsd, manic depression, insomnia, and major anxiety/panic attacks to name afew.) these were all situations that required a lot of help through doctor’s,psychiatrists – you name it. But my Mom (and her husband) were always inthe realm of thought that a mental battle can be won without the use of medication– and this is honestly how I feel Sonia Kaspbrak thought and took mentalhealth issues. That they weren’t as big of an issue as say “health” issues areconcerned. That they were easily bypassed and just a “phase” that could begrown out of. Considering Sonia, who is a woman suffering with MunchausenSyndrome – mental health issues don’t get you the same attention as say asick and suffering child would with an actual sickness or disease that can beSEEN. And that is the biggest difference and I think why Eddie was nevertreated for having ADHD.

It’s seen, but it’s not onethat would necessarily bring about any sort of sympathy from others or keepEddie bound in her realm of control that she preferred to rule.

#Anonymous #⌊ they’re gazebos! they’re bullshit! ⌉ - ooc #ooc.#⌊ have you ever heard of a staph infection? ⌉ - answered #answered.

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pathhyena · 6 years ago

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Depression: It bad

This might be an awful idea, but hyenas sort of thrive on those so who knows.

Hi everyone! Hey what’s been on the news lately?! Right, suicide. That sucks. (Great start hyena). I didn’t know the folks who passed very well, but I remember when Robin Williams took his life, and that threw me for a loop. Celebrities are weird because we have some connection to them even though they’ll likely never know we exist. We sort of support them en masse and they serve an invisible army hungry for their content. When they pass away, it hurts, because we have that powerful emotional one-way connection. I get that.

The bad news is that’s going to happen a lot. It used to not happen as much because we only had radio and TV and 30 channels so the celebrity delivery pipelines were relatively small. That’s why the news still announces every death in the mornings. Today, with social media, fandom structures, indie streaming, a million channels, and more movies and music delivery streams than ever, the number of celebrities has exploded. This is really cool because now there isn’t some centralized control over who we get access to, it’s really nicely wide open. What this also means though is that in the coming years we’ll hear about a lot more passing’s of really cool people. I think to a limited degree we saw this with Bourdain, whose content was delivered on an expansive cable frontier, and Avicii, who benefited from less centralized control over music. These are still all- stars in their fields, so they may be weak examples, but I just think we’ll see a lot more of this down the line.

Celebrity life is really crazy. It’s demanding. They read a lot of critical reviews of themselves as people, and sometimes the motivations that drive you towards fame are also internally destructive. Creativity as a force is often (not always!) cruel, and the drive to find approval from a mass audience often comes along, and often doesn’t come from the greatest places. Even far removed from who we were as teenagers, our darker angels live within us for decades. We all get better at dealing with them, but they certainly still exist.

When a celebrity takes their own life, there is a documented spike in suicides across the world, most notably in demographics similar to that individual. Partly this makes a lot of sense: someone we understand who looks and feels similar to ourselves lost their daily battle, and maybe it’s okay if we do, too. I heard a sociologist on NPR explaining that suicide is now normalizing, and that struck me as odd. I don’t know how it seems to other people, but it’s always been a glaring option to me. I didn’t need news articles to tell me it was an option, it’s something I used to think about.

Suicide is a thing a lot of us think about, and that doesn’t make us weird. It’s an odd existential exercise that the brain sometimes likes to meander into then shriek away from. Like how when I’m high up I think, wow that jump would suck (I am consequently scared of heights). That’s not all that abnormal, I don’t think. The issue comes when the exercise becomes less thought and more dangerous solution, less pondering and more considering. Some folks don’t feel like they have a lot to lose, even though realistically we have everything to lose. Decades of die rolls and adaptations and new friends around a corner we can’t see, but in that moment none of that seems likely, or maybe even all that great. We as people can’t help but view the entire span of a lifetime but through the lens of today, of right now. Tomorrow is forever away.

People keep begging us online to remember how valuable life is, they keep sending us suicide hotline numbers. One tweet I saw going around had the number for every country, in case someone speaking English in Turkey needed the suicide hotline for their nation. I have to be honest, I don’t know how qualified I am to respond to these; I haven’t felt a considerable level of suicide drive since I was 23. I didn’t want to take my own life since it would probably hurt and also it would make my mother sad and that would suck, but y’know if something would have magically end my life painlessly and without fault assigned that would have been cool. Nothing magically made that better but time, but I also had a lot of good friends to talk me through the really crazy thoughts.

I made very little sense back then. (I make only slightly more now.)

What I tend to find with depression is that it ebbs and flows. That’s not true for everyone, I’ve read, with the worst cases being times where apathy sets in and just stays for years. In that scenario nothing is good, nothing is bad, and everything is nothing. It’s a familiar numbness to the entrance and exit of a depressive wave. I think the brain just burns out, and it takes a while to recover. But there’s a period for a lot of us where it’s just really harsh, and I think that’s what those hotlines are for. Maybe you don’t have anyone you trust to talk to about something, you don’t have an emotional connection, and distant tweets from distant strangers don’t do it for you. That’s otherwise really hard, because you have to get through it on your own. I’ve had those nights too. It’s certainly possible to recover from the really bad times on your own (if not required sometimes), but it helps to have a receptive mind on the other end of your painful thoughts. Just something on the other end to reflect and consider. Sometimes that can turn things around, but usually it doesn’t. It’s good at getting you to the next clear moment, where maybe you can recover, find some respite.

And here’s the thing with going to a friend for help – they often want to “fix” you. And it doesn’t work, and then after a few more rounds (this stuff comes in rounds usually), they get frustrated and they check out. Even the good friends do, they just get exasperated. Okay this definitely isn’t true for ALL friends. But here’s a hint to the good allies out there: You can’t fix someone with these issues, we must work them out for ourselves.

“You only talk to me when you’re depressed.” Yes, because that’s the only time I’m in enough pain to overcome debilitating social anxiety.

“You don’t really say anything.” I don’t know what to say, all my thoughts are awful.

“Why are you so negative all the time.” Why is the sky blue.

“This is really hard to hear every week.” I know. I know that, and I feel bad talking to you, I just don’t know what else to do.

And therapy isn’t a magic bullet. You need a good therapist, and sometimes the right drug combination and that’s its own mess. I encourage folks to take this route, but it’s not a fast lane. You often need a mix of stuff. You need exercise so your body doesn’t get sad on your brain’s behalf, friends to get you through the hard times and share your realizations, helpful information to help you fight your battles more strategically, an ability to adjust your tactics when you’re in a good place, and sometimes professionals who can help you understand what’s going on. You may be helped by medication that can help you find clarity.

That’s a lot! And it takes years, and I know that’s frustrating. Humans live for decades, and even through your bad years you often add a lot of value to the world in weird little uncelebrated ways. We can even have a lot of worthless years and find our way to a net positive life. It’s just hard to see that. You have to take it on faith. I’m not much for hope myself, I’m weird that way. But some things you have to take on faith. If you keep fighting, the probability is over time you can find the tools to make it just a little bit easier. And sometimes that’s all we need. We don’t need to be “fixed”. Just make things a little bit easier. And then we can start from a better palace, another foothold in this mountain climb.

We need people to help us be okay with the tumbles, though. There will be a lot of setbacks. Recovery is a long game.

And maybe this is morbid, but consider Robin Williams for a moment. He struggled constantly, and in the end, he “lost”. He went a long time though. If it was cancer, we would have celebrated his valiant struggle. It wasn’t, though, it was self destruction, so it feels like just this great, avoidable loss.

It isn’t, tho. Depression is much like cancer, there is a physical cause, and just because we overcome it psychologically that doesn’t diminish how difficult that is. When you think, when you process ideas or even daydream, you literally change the physical construction of your brain. You rewire. There’s a physical change. When we learn to work with and around our depression we are literally adapting to difficult wiring with re-routed wiring. Depression is a physical malady. When someone loses their struggle, it’s very sad.

But it’s not their fault. It’s not our fault. It’s no one’s “fault”. Sentience is so complex. There are millions of adaptive super computers we call brains and sometimes they have difficulty and we struggle. The tragedy, I feel, is when someone loses to a “spike” – those moments that inexplicably are so much worse. That’s what the hotlines are for, y’know. They get you through those potentially fatal spikes, and maybe there’s a longer term way out.

There are people that have died because they didn’t have someone with an emotional connection to talk to. That’s a stark truth. Now someone to talk to isn’t going to fix anything, necessarily, but if you have a really harsh downswing, and there’s no one there, it’s so easy to give in to the reality your troubled mind constructs. How do you overcome a misperceived reality when your own mind is telling you what’s real? That answer is complicated. We have a lot of minds in us, and we can sort of call on our other sections of thought to help get us through. We can find our way through creativity, practiced mental exercises, or even forcing ourselves to think logically through a mental storm. Those are tools we learn how to use, but they’re hard to use when the awful part of the brain is literally screaming at us. Like trying to have a conversation with a screaming baby behind you on a plane. What helps a lot in the really bad times is another person to sort of generate words for us, and that’s why the good friends are so important.

But we also burn those friends out, and you sort of need a network to spread that responsibility around. But so often it’s hard to trust, and without vulnerability you can’t really care about the person on the other end. Without a fully functioning personality it’s difficult to find that bigger network. People are also stressful and sometimes awful. Sometimes they even make stuff worse.

This sounds like a lot, right? It sounds hard. It IS hard. Folks should understand how Catch 22 in nature depression is.

I have several people who only talk to me when they’re just really, really depressed. They don’t say they’re depressed usually, just small talk, and we banter, and they feel better. Lonely is it’s own kind of hell. I’m okay with these folks, to be honest. I don’t mind being that person. I’m glad I can help in little ways. Maybe it adds up.

I mean I’ve also had people just message me with no effort every day and they’re basically using me as a background television station because they’re bored, and that’s less great. Sometimes it’s hard to tell one from the other.

Anyway I’ll finish with this. Depression isn’t your fault, and feeling like you’re at wit’s end isn’t weakness. There is something wrong with you but it’s your fault as much as it’s someone’s fault for getting the flu. Now there are dumb things you can do when you get the flu – you don’t go run a mile or stop drinking water, right? There are basic measures to be taken, and that’s true for depression. Don’t indulge your demons and try to take care of your body when you’re able (your body can create it’s own depression). When the flu wears off we do things to recover and get back to 100%, and when depression gives us a break we should be documenting, pondering, and trying to fight our awful thoughts.

Another good flu analogy is seeking mental healthcare (which yes I know is not a great system today) makes sense when your brain is that ill. As with any physical malady, and no amount of willing it away is going to fix it. Telling someone with a 104F fever that they should suck it up is about as helpful as feeling like you shouldn’t need to go to a therapist because we should all be Very Strong People.

If you’re basically fighting the good fight, the overall tenor of where you are today is absolutely not your fault. It’s not a weakness, you don’t suck. You’re given the life you have by who you are and who you were.

Today is yours, and you can control how you react to today. Yesterday is already fucked, and that’s okay. You’re you today. The point of today is to make tomorrow a little better.

To that end, I’m okay with being someone’s desperate cold call on the way to oblivion, which is to say that if you just can’t stand life anymore and you don’t have anyone, it’s okay to message a hyena and say like, “fuck I don’t know what to do, you wrote that I could say hi to you and I could unload and you wouldn’t eat me (that might be a lie, that last part), so I’m taking a risk.” (You don’t have to curse.)

Now I know it’s a shitty thing to say, “Hey if you need someone come talk to me”, cause people are utterly fucking terrifying and how do you talk to someone you don’t know well, especially if they’re “fandom popular” (which has it’s own complications). What if you’re wasting someone’s time, what if you have nothing to say, what if you say something dumb, etc.

If I can’t talk right now, I can tell you, and I think you’d understand. If you have nothing to say we can talk about curtains. You can’t waste my time unless you’re just doing the bored no effort “I’m fine but entertain me” thing people sometimes do when they’re younger and haven’t figured that part out yet. Beyond that, honestly I’ve been where you are and the quality of conversation doesn’t even have to be great, it just has to be someone else out there. I’ll read your words and respond. I can’t be your best friend, and I’m sorry about that, but let’s be honest we’re not looking for best friends we are literally looking for anybody to show some compassion and care about our struggle, even if just briefly.

You may not know me except for reputation, or tweets, or even just this dumb tumblr post. That’s okay. You can look at my tweets and see that maybe I am weird because I think I am a hyena online and paws are pretty cool, and if you don’t think I’m awful (enough) and you really need someone, say hi.

As a disclaimer obviously if we have a prior history this may not work, because I am a person you have history with and am not actually a volunteer stranger on the end of a phoneline.

Dear person in a Very Bad Place: I may not be able to find you in time to say the right words. If you reach out to me, *I* may not have the right words. But we can try, and at least that’s something. I might be at work or laggy or depressed myelf, but I can tell you that, and I trust you to not take it so personally because you are a people and I am too.

If direct contact is scary, send me a reply on Twitter. We can use a code phrase, it can be “Foxes are very strange.” It’s true. As a corollary, sometimes my notifications get slammed and I might miss that (Twitter is bad at volume delivery), but I wanna still offer it as a sort of option.

Life is hard. I get that. If I can make your struggle a little easier, and you’re in a bad way, maybe I can help.

I feel like this is probably true for a lot of people on Twitter, and I bet there are folks who will read this and might reply “Hey me too, I would like to be this person too”. I don’t want to name names cause I don’t want to volunteer people who may not be in a good place themselves. You never know people’s lives.

ANYWAY, thanks for reading 3000 words, have a gold star. I hope any of this was helpful, and I mean the thing at the end except for the not eating you part. I have a reputation to maintain, you see.

@pathhyena on Twitter

P.S. I am especially bad at tumblr comments because I am extremely old.

Also adding ten more words to make it exactly 3000.

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totheglobe · 5 years ago

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What Part of the Globe Do You Call Home?

***Your home is your sanctuary, at least it should be. Whatever part to the globe houses you,your friends, pets or family is just as important as who you are as a person.

We relate and feel really great when we are happy in our comfortable space. We rest, eat, sleep and take our reprieve from the duties of daily living. Part of daily living is sharing and giving time, love, space and assistance to others. To better assist others, you must first attain a comfortable living space. Finding a place for yourself, fills your comfortable space with things that occupy your place, and things that relate and reflect your style or taste. Home is where you feel the most comfortable..

Know your role on the global scale. Keep your home as the most sacred space for you on the globe. Know that your sacred space is yours and yours alone!

***Know that you are entitled to PRIVACY and nobody should be watching you, listening to your private conversations or invade your dwelling.

** Keep vigilant and make sure that nobody gains access to your private telephone calls, your WIFI service or your intimate time with others spent at home. So many people are bombarded with lunatics that want to know every bit of your whereabouts, actions and conversations that life and privacy needs to be better guarded and secured.

Wherever you reside on the globe, know where you feel the most comfortable. Recognize what's good and feels like the right fit regarding where you choose to live. If you are a new graduate or seeking new housing, take your time to decide what part of the globe you'll call home.

We live in a great big vast country, and on an even bigger planet. So what exactly does that invite for you and me? It invites change. Whether you change your mind, your thoughts or your place of residence, it's all up to you.

Of one thing I can assure you: Wherever you live on the globe, it's ease and comfort that fills a void, or a need that makes your dwelling your home. Make your home a home by living in a space that you make as your own, private sanctuary. Home is often called your home because it is the place most sought for comfort and privacy- the peacefulness of your house or home can be attributed to how wonderful you rest and appreciate your private space...

Filling the need for you to have a peaceful life depends on a peaceful domicile or place of residence.

Home is the way that we connect and let our hair down to renew or recharge our hearts, thoughts, mind and brain. It really makes no difference to me what part of the globe I call home,as long as I have comfort, space and privacy and my husband beside me, then I am comfortable and at home.

I have lived in quite a few places over the past 20 plus years. What I have learned is that it's a matter of exposing yourself to as many new and different experiences as you can, in the time that you are living and able to be mobile- thrive in the time that you are alive!

To live your life and to be informed, aware and to gain appreciation and respect for who, what and where you have developed the most passion is rewarding!

Practice empathy and philanthropy, throughout your life, caring for others and showing, and giving and receiving love is the most important space to be in everyday.

I remember, as a child, we did a lot of local traveling and that's probably when I first got the travel and adventure bug. I enjoyed long car rides with interesting conversation that initiated and created an all-encompassing out-of-the- ordinary way of discovering many restaurants and local jaunts that were joyful and quaint, to say the least. We always noticed beautiful homes and neighborhoods and imagined living in many stately places of residence.

Many people call big towering buildings home, those with gated driveways and roundabouts that steer one visitor over to the next lane. Others call quaint high-rise buildings, replete with concierge service, guards, security and winding staircases their home. I still, to this day, enjoy visiting and seeing as many different places, around the globe, that others call their home, much like a pioneer seeking adventure and new discovery.

I have also seen small shanty towns lined with dirt roads, covered in make-shift cardboard or plywood houses, across the Texas-Mexico border, separating one country and standard of living from another. That was frankly, very sad, emotional and disheartening. The homes were riddled, lined or filled with trash and debris that was later going to be exchanged for meager pennies- on the dollar, to possibly help sustain and feed a family of three or more survivors.

Growing up and seeing the disparity between such scenes, in true reality, NOT out of a movie scene, or a sad dream, but IS in fact the reality of migrant workers and their families. Home was not a sanctuary or comfortable dwelling.( sad face- now tears running down my cheeks).

Many migrant workers come into our country legally, to do jobs that most of U.S. citizens, in our country, would find too physically taxing, draining, exhausting or demeaning.

I do not place judgement on either action of the equation. I right there and then made a declaration: - I will elect to attain and provide aid in the form of immediate medical care, maintenance, education, sponsorship, or to help by attaining continuous philanthropic support to aid or assist others who cannot help themselves. The odds are too high against them.

My eyes and heart have not forgotten what I first witnessed as a small child. Along our drive passing the freeway in route to the major university, in my hometown, is when I first noticed the duality. My first reaction was shock, then grief, sadness and anger followed, when I saw things of such a high magnitude.

I made a promise to myself: When I attain the means and the power to fulfill, the ability in me, to help some of the most-deserving people I shall. I will be helping them to have a chance, and better enable them to experience the normal standard of living. I will be happy to assist!

It would be most heart-rewarding for these small communities of families and migrant workers to be able to enjoy more beauty and have functional lavatories, showers and places and spaces where they reside, on the globe, that they can proudly call their first choice of home. Know Your Role to Assist Others and Do So Emphatically!

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dreddymd · 5 years ago

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Breathing for Dummies

Emergency room and intensive care professionals understand the importance of respiration. Oxygen and carbon dioxide are what stands between our life and death so our very next breath matters very much. It is only when we get close to death do doctors finally pay attention to our respiration.

Oxygen is the most prescribed medicine in hospitals but little to no attention is paid to carbon dioxide because medicine ill defines it as a waist product of metabolism. It is low levels of this essential gas (that plants love and thrive on) that constricts the blood vessels, which drives up blood pressure.

I have written about breathing and have been working on my own respiration for the last four years using mostly the Breathslim device, which I recommend to all people who have chronic disease and are looking to put the brakes on their respiration—slowing their breathing rate down.

Exercise is so healthy exactly because it increases carbon dioxide levels in the blood and that is exactly what happens when we slow our breathing down, we increase carbon dioxide and that affects the oxygen disassociation curve so we end up with more oxygen delivered to the cells.

Bottom line—the quicker we breathe the sooner we are going to die. The more our breathing races, the less oxygen we get, the quicker our bodies begin to suffer from one chronic aliment or another. Eight breaths a minute is very healthy though few breathe today slower than 12. Cancer patients tend to breathe at 18 to 25 breaths a minute.

The Breathslim is an easy answer for beginners and though I have been meditating most of my adult life, and even though I have been using the Breathslim for over three years, I myself am just breaking out of beginning status and getting truly serious about my breathing.

Vernon Johnston cured himself of cancer (prostrate and bone) with good diet, sodium bicarbonate and four hours of conscious breathing a day. I have not talked to anyone in all the years since that has equaled his accomplishment (took him one month to be cancer free) though finally I am doing my best to emulate his path, not because I have cancer but because my stress levels are keeping me from the optimal level of health I am seeking.

There are certain health practices like fasting that yield changes that do not come from medicines and supplements. When we fast, things change fast. Obviously, the same thing happens when we get a hold of our breathing.

If we are truly interested in deep and rapid change of our condition we will flood ourselves with minerals like magnesium, bicarbonate (sodium and potassium), iodine and selenium and make a full time work out of getting a hold of our breathing.

It is hard to explain the great challenge in this though the Breathslim makes at least part of the work easier. There really is no limit to the medical power of breathing. Each breath is important and can be controlled if you have the will for it.

After years of using the Breathslim I have finally put it down so I can go deeper into my breathing to effect changes that have not come any other way. I have an advantage over most people in terms of breathing and that is my meditative self is easily accessible. This is what I run right into when I spend just a few seconds or a minute consciously breathing.

What I am doing every day is Yogic alternating nostril breathing (best technique for increasing heart rate variability) and then directly into what I call perfect breathing, which is a whole universe to explore. Basically it involves slow super conscious breathing where you breathe slowly into the abdomen (diaphragmatic breathing), exhale even more slowly and then when full exhaled one holds the breath until the urge to breath is triggered. For most people that comes instantly so oxygen starved they are but for me it is a 20-second cycle meaning three breaths a minute. Life in the slow lane is healing.

Pain and Stress Control

One can alleviate stress through the practice of yogic breathing techniques. Among other things, yogic breathing loads your blood with oxygen, which, by nourishing and repairing your body’s cells, maintains your health at the most desirable level.

Pain clinics use breathing exercises for pain control. Childbirth clinics teach yoga-related breathing techniques to both parents. I like what Daniel Scot said, “It is easy to take breathing for granted, because we don’t have to think about it. Only when we do are we reminded of its importance, and most times, the reminder is forced. Congestion, shortness of breath, and choking are all poignant indicators of what happens when the fuel line to the engine is cut. Most people don’t like being reminded of their mortality, let alone feeling they can’t climb a flight of stairs without keeling over.”

Full Yogic Breath is a deeply balancing. It is sometimes known as three-part breath because it works with three different sections of the torso and naturally engages all three lobes of the lungs. Full Yogic Breath revitalizes the entire body with prana (essential life force). In particular, it benefits the vital organs, which can become stagnant, constricted, or fraught with emotional and physical tension when we experience stress. Full Yogic Breath relieves stress, refreshes the mind, and activates the parasympathetic nervous system, encouraging a calmer, more balanced state of being overall. It also helps to correct unhealthy breathing patterns. This pranayama can be engaged at any time, but it is especially beneficial when practiced intently for 5-15 minutes every day – preferably on an empty stomach. The early morning is an ideal time to practice full Yogic breath.

This is book one in my Home Therapy Program, which is designed for people going onto the Natural Allopathic protocol. It is thirty days of emails with special attention to getting people started with breathing medicine.

Prayer, Meditation and Breathing

Prayer, meditation and breathing are very much related processes that are usually thought of separately. I for instance was into meditation for decades but not really into my breathing but have always integrated prayer with meditation. Now it is my breathing I focus on more; but slow breathing usually brings me to my meditative self that prays to the highest. Therefore, I am practicing breathing many times a day and that has me being more connected than ever before.

Conclusion

We can do what we want with our breathing including healing ourselves. The more we can focus on our breath the quicker and more powerful the medicinal results.

Dr. Mark Sircus AC., OMD, DM (P)

Slow, Steady & Easy Breathing

Deep Breathing Exercises

Meditation for Beginners: A Guide to Inner Tranquility

How to Meditate: Learning the Best Meditation Techniques

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hide-the-cutlery · 5 years ago

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The Four Horsemen

Today was awful. I felt absolutely manic. I was irritated. I was pissed. I was emotional. I was throwing things around while cleaning. (Side note: if you ever want to add some aggravation to your life, try organizing hangers and putting them neatly into a box. Jesus fucking Christ.) I posted a comment on Facebook that turned volatile, where I ended up calling about 25 random strangers idiots, just because I felt like bickering. Talk about backfiring — it essentially wound up with people just picking on me. I swore out loud, loudly, which I knew would upset my parents. I went to the gas station to smoke a cigarette, and when I got home, my father just happened to be in the hallway in front of my room, no doubt trying to look casual, but with the intent of smelling me to see if I smoked one. I think my mother is frightened of me because I couldn’t contain an explosion of frustration I had when I was trying to talk to her and had to force myself to try to speak in a calm tone. I also think she is judging me because I couldn’t stay awake during the afternoon, mostly due to a medication increase. She flat out told me I’ve been loopy the past few days and that it scares her. It’s equally upsetting that I’m only trying to feel better, but it’s scaring people. I’m still trying to adjust to the increase, and after reading up on the medication, the risks and side effects are scary and just plain suck. I’m already fat enough, I can’t wait to gain more weight. Nothing seems to satiate me; I was contemplating making a bagel a few minutes ago. At 2:30am. It would figure that just as I feel like I’m ready to start dating, even though I’m disgusted with my body, I now get to be even more disgusting and insecure. Fucking hell.

The meds are giving me wild dreams. Last night I dreamt I was Baker acted and learned that the cops had been called on me several times, but had gotten stuck in traffic each time. I know I physically attacked at least one person and stabbed my mother. In my dream, my parents had also moved me out of my room and into another. (This has actually happened in real life, but I knew they were going to make me switch rooms. After being in their house a few months after I got out of the hospital, I was kicked out of my room, which I grew up in, and moved into my sister’s old room. She still had a child’s bed when she moved out. So now I’m 32, sleeping on a child’s bed, in my sister’s room, while she’s off living in her nice apartment and getting a useful degree and thriving without a battle with addiction and her mental health. She’ll probably never end up broke, with a useless degree, living in our parents’ house, like I have been the past 2 years because I can’t fucking take care of myself. Anyway, the reason I was relocated? My mother wanted to keep the “guest” (my) room nice for when guests come. Which has been once in the two years and some months since I’ve been here. And it was my grandparents. Clearly I’m still holding a resentment towards her about that, but I seem to have gone on a tangent — back to my dream.) The rooms in the dream weren’t in a house, but in an apartment arranged like the one I spent my freshman year in, except the shapes and sizes were different. The one my stuff was put into while I was at the mental health facility was very strangely shaped and extremely small. Occupying my old, larger, square-shaped room was a girl I used to work with, who I always hated out of jealousy. She began the same position I held about 3 years after I had been hired. I had been promoted by then, so I technically outranked her, but she was the fucking golden girl in my old office. She could do no wrong. The sad thing is if I wasn’t so jealous of her, we probably could have been friends. We even discovered we had dated two brothers! Within months, she was going to conferences around the country and Canada. I was never sent on a conference — just medical leave. Yes, my old boss actually told me I needed a break, and I had to stop working and go on short-term disability for 6ish weeks. I know she was trying to save my ass, because the quality of my work had slipped so low it was probably a fire-able offense, but really now, how many people are told they can’t work until they get some rest and time to focus on addressing some of the stress and grief they are obviously experiencing? I was even sober at the time. Well, what I mean by “sober” is that I wasn’t drinking. Getting so fucking high on Xanax every day, though, that’s a different story... I was getting drunk again by the time I came back to work.

My dreams are terrifyingly realistic. They usually follow the same storyline: I end up involved with a group of male friends and tend to gravitate towards one. He is usually aloof; I spend time with the rest of them to get closer to him. None of them are real people, but creations of my own, lonely mind. It’s funny, but the dreams usually involve Star Wars or WoW. That, or I dream about my ex or old best friend, who I was in love with from my junior year of high school and well into college. Sometimes they blend into one person, which isn’t that strange. They reminded me a lot of each other, and I’d give anything to have one (or both) of them back into my life. Their family is usually around, and more times than not, they are focused on a girl that is not me. Everything feels so real, and I believe I’ve written before about how, even in the dream, I feel/think it shouldn’t be another goddamn girl. It should be me. Often I will become violent towards the other girl, if given the opportunity. I even experience a sense of betrayal that carries on long beyond the dream and into the reality I am sometimes cursed with upon waking. And, of course, I have drinking dreams. Not so surprisingly, it’s actually not only drinking — I’ve had dreams recently about pills and even coke (which I’ve only done 3-4 times!). I have a friend who sees the same psychiatrist as I do, who told me he can prescribe me something to stop the realistic dreams, but honestly, I don’t want that. The pathetic truth is I like my dreams. It’s a way for me to have the opportunity to interact with people I desperately miss, even if it’s painful on occasion. It’s a way to lash out at people I’m angry with without actually doing so. It’s a way to drink and use (although those dreams are usually a saga of finding and keeping the stuff instead of actually having/using it). It’s a way to escape the life I’ve built and despise.

Sometimes I feel like I only live for other people. When I step back and observe my life, it’s often hard for me to point out something I enjoy or that brings me happiness (besides my kitties), including friend/relationships (unless turning back time was realistic). There are are voids in my heart and soul I fear will never be filled. I know I have people who love me and want to be in my life, and I’m trying to let them come in closer instead of pushing them away. The reality, though, is this: I don’t like my life and feel I could never be content unless I morphed it into my old one. I miss the familiarity of it. I miss days on the couch, just watching tv and chatting with people. I miss having my cats inside with me. I miss being the boss. I miss gaming, cranking up my music as loud as I want. Watching, doing, wearing, fucking, leaving, buying, smoking, drinking, taking whatever/whoever/wherever/whenever I wanted. Being messy. Isolating. Escaping. Again, the brutal truth is that I wanted to go out today. I’m sick of relying on pills so I don’t have to face reality. I hate that I can’t face reality — that everything needs to be tuned down so I can function. As I was looking at my life today, I contemplated for a while what I could change to make it enjoyable. “Happy, joyous, and free.” I couldn’t think of anything, and maybe there is a possibility that it’s simply not comprehendible to me at this point. Maybe I’m just not that far along in my healing/recovery yet, and lord knows I need treatment for having BPD or bipolar disorder or whatever the hell theydecide I have as well as the anxiety, panic disorder, depression, substance abuse problems, OCD tendencies, impulse control issues — they being anyone who takes care of me in some sort of fashion. In other words, all my providers.

They have all told me that I cannot drink ever again because my liver can’t take it. I could be dead in weeks, months, a day, who knows. Regardless of the time, I won’t make it out alive if I decide to go for a trip down memory lane. One of the only times I’ve seen a look of actual concern in my psychiatrist’s eyes (his voice is level, calm, and almost caring, but his eyes betray him) was while he was telling me “you don’t want to die from liver failure”. My primary described to me what would happen as my organs would begin to shut down: unbelievable pain, weakness, fluid swelling my whole body, bleeding out from the veins in my throat, no hope... But I don’t want to go like that — in a hospital, attached to monitors, needles under my skin, aides, nurses, doctors, family all shuffling in and out, everyone knowing by my yellow eyes and skin that I did it all to myself. Imagine the shame! No, I’d rather it be like being found on the bathroom floor. I feel like I wouldn’t be missing a lot. How much is there to miss in a world you can’t face? In a reality where you can’t think of a single possible thing to, not even realistically, but hypothetically change to make you happy? (Besides the time thing, or undoing a hell of a lot of bad memories from awful, unfair experiences). Maybe it’s my disease, as they call it, talking. Maybe it’s just something I’ll have to experience instead of trying to imagine. Maybe it’s a lot of things, but all I can possibly fathom, a life beyond my wildest dreams, doesn’t add up to the responsibility I imagine I have to stick around for others. Sometimes, all I feel is Terror, Bewilderment, Frustration, and Despair. No one knows those feelings like I do, or I should say no one experiences them like I do. My feelings are intense — too intense, I’ve been told by therapists. So yeah, Terror, Bewilderment, Frustration, and Despair push me to wanting to go out so badly sometimes. One last hurrah, and then just end it, but I couldn’t live with the guilt I’d feel. What if it persisted through death? I couldn’t handle that, but ha, I’d be shit out of luck at that point. I suppose I should note that these intense feelings were much more present earlier, but now all I feel is grogginess. It’s 4:40am. I think I’ll read this over once, even though I know it’s confusing, choppy, and just bad, and then try for some sleep. I know my dream self has people she’s waiting to see.

#Mental Health #Dreams #Alcoholism #Mental Illness #Relapse #Shit Writing #Rambling #Personal

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ofcloudsandstars · 7 years ago

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Hello, dear! A little fae told me that you live in NJ. I do as well! I wanted to ask for your recommendations on magical places to go/see in the NJ/NY area! I have a day of next Monday and my friend who i'm chilling with said she'll go anywhere I want and I'm so overwhelmed at the possibility! I normally work, so this is a rare opportunity that I cannot pass up! I'd really appreciate the suggestions! ~May good energies surround you!~

I have mentioned a number of times on this blog that I live in NJ! That’s cool you live here too, NJ is pretty special in it’s own way!

For NJ there are tons of cool abandoned places that feel like a strange liminal space. NJ is notorious for legends of strange creatures living in these spaces so like whether or not you believe in that be careful cause that tends to attract a sketchy type of crowd. In a natural reservation by my house for example it’s advised people don’t go alone cause weird people do strange rituals there and malicious energy shit cause they thrive off those type of sinister legends. It’s also like Fort Tyron in NYC which is my favorite park ever, it’s INTENSE with magical energy, ghosts and entities but there’s some parts of the park that has a very dense and somewhat negative vibe and you don’t want to linger there for too long. It’s still an incredible place though!

So NJ has A lot of abandoned places as you may know. These abandoned places have tons of energy and history to them and are pretty magical in their own way. I will link some sites to them too.

Abandoned Railroad station-Like there are a million abandoned NJ railroad graveyards and stations but this one might be easier for you to access. It’s by Jersey City. Be careful that some abandoned places are not protected by some law cause sometimes you can end up trespassing and you don’t want police to be all up in your grill

Ashbury Park-Honestly my favorite beach in the north east. It’s beautiful, clean and very classy NJ Americana with all the wonderful boardwalk treats like saltwater taffy and orange creamsicle soft serve, but it has a lot of fascinating energy too, the nicest waves and sea shells and sand. They also have a Paranormal museum and shop that holds tours there and a lot of abandoned shit like shipwrecks a haunted paramount theatre and Asbury Lanes. Great to go for a summer day trip!

Clifton’s Gates of Hell-I’m not far from Clifton but this place is incredibly dangerous. I’m just letting you know about it since you asked but its like.. dangerous.. lol. A lot of kids from my high school would come here for the thrill but would leave kind of disturbed. Like if the NJ devil is real he would be chillin here. It’s like a series of storm drains and there has been cults doing weird magic inside. I would suggest you go with someone and be armed or something but also this is totally a bad idea and like how horror films start. A lot of kids in my school knew about weird haunted abandoned places in NJ like there is an abandoned asylum that still has electric chairs intact and an abandoned mansion but the stories they told always sounded really creepy and really dangerous. Like aside from being very empathetic and probably feeling the trauma the ghosts went through their waking lives there, I am moreso always concerned about living people and what they’re capable of. I think it’s cool to know about The Gates of Hell but I am giving you a long ass disclaimer about going there haha. (btw the asylum was called Greystone Psychiatric Hospital in case you are interested lol. My friends said that they still have medical records and everything in tact. Its like they had to evacuate one day and never cleaned up anything). Also like mentioned above if you do go- I think at least for Greystone it’s a halfass protected historical site. Halfass meaning it has a cheap metal chain fence around it but police might be snooping around so you want to be careful because I am assuming that for the hospital you could be trespassing if you enter anyway. (Clifton Gates I don’t think it’s protected at all)

Pine Barrens-Also for more creepy places I would suggest you should avoid but should know about are Pine Barrens. I feel like everyone that needs to know anything witch-history related and paranormal and weird about NJ should know about Pine Barrens. Like Pine Barrens is the heart of the bizarre of this state lol. Supposedly witches used to live there on some long ago colony and they summoned or gave birth to The Jersey Devil that still lingers in this land. That’s basically where the beast was born. The Pine Barrens is very ‘The Blair Witch Project’ in vibe. People go there and leave weird shit on purpose. Witches probably go there and do some dank magic. It’s a giant swamp so the energy is kind of dank anyway.

Even though Weird NJ might seem like a super corny and kitschy magazine, in it’s very childishness presentation it kind of does hold a guide to the paranormal and bizarre of the state. It’s cute in a goosebumps-ish way where most people wouldn’t take the magazine seriously but if you really go on the adventures it suggests you will probably end up on a hell ride haha.

There are also a lot of waterfalls in NJ. Like NJ is known for waterfalls. Check out this link. Also just google NJ waterfalls or top 10 waterfalls in NJ or whatever it will give you some great advice since the best are often listed everywhere but tend to be far and out of the way.

For towns there are a few that are nice. Montclair is a beautiful artistic town. There are a lot of magical shops there too like Blu Lotus that sells a lot of magical tools and items and is beautiful. I posted a few pictures of it before. There are more magical stores up and down bloomfield ave which is where the downtown stores are centered around. There is also Parcel further up bloomfield ave that sells really nice stationary and has an Amelie, whimsical faerie-like feel. There is an incredible crystal shop also on Bloomfield Ave called Rocky’s Crystals & Minerals. There’s a new magic tool and spiritual shop further down bloomfield ave called Mystic Spirit Metaphysical Shoppe. I’ve never been there yet. If you want to hang around Bloomfield Ave in downtown Montclair I’d suggest for lunch go to Raymonds which is a super cute classic Americana restaurant that sells great Egg Creams and Burgers. That’s like their specialty don’t get anything else haha. If you are vegetarian/vegan there is a great vegan restaurant on that same street (Church ave where Blu Lotus is) and there is a smoothie acai bowl shop on that street too for dessert. Other than downtown Montclair has a lot of beautiful parks and a really nice reservation called Eagle Rock. Eagle Rock can be a little sketchy so check it out with a friend but overall its a cool place. Oh yeah and there is the Van Vleck house which is a mansion with beautiful gardens open to the public. It is MAJESTIC in the summertime. Sooo fucking gorgeous. Its worth checking out. There are wild bunnies that run across the garden too. It has a very french style to it (montclair has a large french community).

Verona also has a magical shop called Goddess in Eden. The owner used to work in Blu Lotus in Montclair but branched off into her own shop. She is wiccan and works with the fae and is often in her own head so she’s hard to kind of have a conversation with haha. The store is facing Verona park which is beautiful and has always been one of my favorite parks.

Edgewater NJ is pretty special. In that area of NJ there are a lot of Japanese Americans and there is a huge supermarket and restaurant that the area is known for that caters to Japanese culture but aside from that Edgewater has these incredible trails I discovered with an intimate partner there. There are raspberry bushes growing all over the trail and the most TRETCHEROUS FUCKING STONE STAIRS leading AS STEEP AS POSSIBLE down to the river. Its beautiful and at one point you will feel like you are in a fort or castle at some time but its kind of intense tbh.

Also Nj has the most CUTEST industrial towns along the delaware river. I have yet to explore there but I’ve been wanting to go.

Anyway for NYC there is:Manhattan- 9th street between ave 1 and A is like the most magical street in Manhattan. You have Flower Power which is a great apothecary/herb shop and the people in there are amazing. It looks like a store out of harry potter with cute green library shelves filled with herbs. Then there is Enchantments which is NYC’s oldest witchcraft shop. The staff might be kind of unwelcoming but the cats are worth it. There is also Good Beer which is a craft beer place that sells seasonal ciders and beers and is partially a bar. I think if you like beer, cider and drinking its worth checking out. There is also a vegan confectionery on that same street. There is also a crystal shop and a psychic place but I haven’t been to the psychic there. There is also a cat shelter on that block that lets you come in for free to hug and pet the cats.

Fort Tyron Park- basically 181 off the A and above. The park is a long park on the north west side of Manhattan’s island and is gorgeous. It faces the river and has a lot of rocky mountainous cliffs and hills and old stone bridges, walls and structures. It’s well known for the Cloisters which is a kind of castle built from old pieces of old monasteries from Europe. It’s a medieval museum apart of the MET that does wine tastings in the summer and hosts a renaissance fair. There are parts of the park that are super mysterious and can get creepy. You would have old stone stairs leading down into an overgrown growth of vines that grows into a forest by the foot of the stairs. You have a lot of walkways that descend into stone tunnels that are super dark in the middle. There are a lot of strange liminal spaces there. It’s relatively safe so you can be fine alone but you should be able to pick up weird vibes if something too strange is afoot. Also if you are around 181 there’s a fantastic Irish bar called Le Cheile that has this very whimsical feel and a great cider and beer selection. It would be cool to drink there after checking out the park!

North Woods Central Park-Some forest that is easier to get to and not too out of the way is the north woods on the upper left side of Central Park. It’s beautiful and intense and drowns out the whole city. You can get very much lost in it and some of the path has been devoured by the earth and overtaken by weeds and dirt. I love walking through this forest in winter. There are old brown stone troll-like bridges in there and a lot of beautiful streams everywhere. You might want to be with a partner while going through because for central manhattan it can be a bit troubling to be alone in the woods and some sketchy types threaten you. I’ve never been bothered but I try not to chance myself too much. I find the ramble safer but wayy more populated but ok to be alone in. (The ramble is a smaller woods in the more central area of central park).

Lillies by Union Square-Its not really magical, but it’s super charming and I love it, especially around christmas when they decorate the fuck out of it. It’s super whimsical and has a very old classic NYC vibe

Abracadabra-On west 19th street. It’s not that magical as it is kind of creepy, paranormal and a spooky goosebumps adventure. If you’re ever in NYC it’s worth going in and laughing at.

BrooklynOff Morgan on the L line is Catland which is Brooklyn’s witchcraft store and community. They CONSTANTLY have witchy events there, from parties to rituals to symposiums. I’m going to a discussion with a witchy friend there this Saturday to talk about Death, the afterlife, channeling spirits, ouija boards and contacting ancestors. They have parties like queer witch prom and its a very queer witch friendly space as it’s run by queer witches

I know there are definitely places in the Bronx but I honestly do not know the Bronx well enough to write a lot on it.

Governor’s Island-OHBOY HOW DID I FORGET THIS ONE, everyone knows this place cause they hold music festivals there but governor’s island is the most liminal space ass place I’ve ever been to. It’s beautiful but littered with haunted feeling houses that some artists have taken to making into even more haunted vibe art studios. Check out the HoloCenter which is an art center for laser art and holographs. Its literally like an old creepy decaying house filled with black portrait spaces that when you walk too close a fucking holograph face pops out at you. It’s super beautiful, cool and creepy tech art that for some reason never was popular enough to take off so it feels really alternative.

I hope some of these places are interesting to you! Stay safe! Especially in NJ’s more paranormal spaces they feel very Blair Witchy meaning that it’s not always so friendly so it’s good not to be alone, but of course there are a lot of wonderful places too! I hope you guys have fun!!!

#long post #nj #magic places #paranormal #witchy

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wishbone-md · 8 years ago

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Come so far

I am the president of an organization who hosted some premeds from a nearby university for a tour of the medical school. Most of them were juniors so they were gearing up to take the MCAT and open up AMCAS. I started this tumblr in 2013, the summer right after I graduated. I had some other premeds to talk to about applying but I didn’t really seek out to ask questions because I was already embarrassed that I didn’t have a set plan. Most of my information was from tumblr, SDN, and reddit.

The premeds had so many questions about what it was like to be a medical student, what should they be doing in undergrad to help them prepare for med school/applying, how much do we study per day, ect.

I think most of them are thinking of doing a gap year. The couple of students I spoke to the most were ones who had to take the MCAT again or are planning to do a gap year (not by choice). They were worried about being older than their class or what it looks like to admissions that they didn’t go straight through. That they felt weird about their classmates already had acceptance letters in hand. I am the perfect person to answer these questions because I’ve been through all that.

Maybe this advice may help y’all also. I told them that the time is going to pass anyways so might as well do something you think you love. It’s much better to take a gap year or 2 so you can apply just once and get in on the first shot instead of being like “we’ll see what happens.” I burned myself with the “we’ll see what happens” when I took the MCAT without studying and way too soon. I made sure to tell them that there’s no shame in applying DO because it’s not worth it to spend another year reapplying because you didn’t get in anywhere. As long as you are productive during your gap years, they will not be looked at as a negative ex still shadowing, volunteering, studying for MCAT, doing research, working to save up money for med school. I talked about my AMCAS and how important it is to have an interesting personal statement and to only list meaningful activities that they can speak intelligently on. Not just randomly doing habitat for humanity for 1 hour once.

A couple years ago, there was a long stretch of time where I thought I wasn’t good enough to get into medical school. But I’m thriving here now. I love my school. I still think that getting into medical school is harder than staying in, but I think most people disagree with me there.

The dean of admissions was also a part of our tour. He was actually my last interviewer. He remembered what we actually talked about, which was research I did in undergrad and that I’m first generation Vietnamese. I didn’t think that I made that much of an impression but I made it thus far.

The last bit of advice I gave the students was that you don’t need a fancy facility to be at. You just need supportive administration, solid lecturers that are clinically oriented, a place that really emphasizes step 1, non mandatory lectures that are recorded, an internet connection, and a university affiliated hospital. Even better if it’s in state MD tuition and if there’s an abundance of research opportunities.

It was a good walk down memory lane for me. Maybe when I’m in residency, I’ll be telling new M1s how to navigate the maze that is medical school.

#ms2 #premed #med school #amcas #mcat #admissions #nontrad

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charles195 · 8 years ago

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OtaYuri Week: Day 1 - Firsts/Confessions

Word Count: 1.3k

Rating: T+

Summary: There are some difficulties in picking up Otabek from the airport after Yuri asks for him to visit.

A/N: It’s 11 P.M. where I am, but I still finished in time, technically! This is basically just a series of humorous drabbles.

“Yura.”

“Beka…” Yuri is uncharacteristically timid whenever he talks to Otabek because his skills as a skater won’t assure their friendship. He believes that they would be friends in any life, as long as they meet. He doesn’t know if their friendship would thrive universally, though. This is uncharted territory. The only reason why he’s surrounded by the people he is now is because he fought to be in the same rank as them. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have even batted an eye at him. And now he’s making a ridiculous, impulsive request from someone he could lose any second. “Come visit. I need some inspiration.”

He doesn’t really need it, not like how Victor did after winning gold five years in a row and constantly being interviewed about his retirement date. He’s far from his expiration date. He just wants someone to keep him company while his grandpa is in the hospital.

“Why? You still surprise me.”

Yuri is in his grandpa’s room, curled up in his grandpa’s bedsheets. Inspiration, to him, isn’t about surprises. Victor surprised Yuri when he abandoned him for some Japanese pole dancer and forgot about his promise--that wasn’t a source of inspiration, it was disappointment from having his expectations let down. Inspiration is just something to think about to make a performance more raw, more heartfelt. Right now, Yuri would rather think of Otabek than his grandpa. “Surprise you? With what?”

“This is the first time you’ve called me. We usually text. I thought I was in trouble.”

“Are you going to visit, or not?” Yuri knows that Otabek is smiling in Almaty. This was their little inside joke.

“When was the last time either of us said no to that kind of question?”

Such an event was unprecedented. “Never. Don’t make this a first, it’ll ruin the record.”

Victor is riding shotgun, Yuuri is in the backseat, and Yuri is driving.

“Why is Yurio the one driving us all to the airport?” Yuuri asks as he buckles in his seatbelt. He looks for his anxiety medication in his bag.

“Because I want to live,” Yuri snapped. “Victor speeds up in the oncoming lane to avoid traffic and you can’t handle Russia’s aggressive drivers.”

Yuuri scrambles to swallow two pills dry as soon as he finds his medicine. “So the best option is to trust a 15-year-old?”

“Relax, I’ve been teaching Yura how to drive since he was 13! It’s not like this is first time,” Victor assures.

In Japan, the minimum age to drive was 18, so Yuuri assumes that it was the culture shock that panicked him. “So what’s the driving age in Russia?”

“18,” Victor answered.

After fifteen minutes of driving, Yuri finally notices that he needs to adjust his rearview mirror. “H-Hey, Katsudon! Why the hell are you crying?”

“Yuu-chan, can I try on your glasses?” Victor asks while Yuri is fervently searching for Otabek.

Yuuri humors his fiancé without question. He has learned that it’s easier to oblige him immediately unless their lives were in danger.

“Wow! You’re so blind, Yuuri!” He claps his hands together in delight. Victor pushes up the glasses by the bridge megane-style. “How do I look?”

Yuuri squints at him. “I have no idea.”

Victor whips out his phone to take yet another cute couple selfie. While he’s holding his phone up high, he sees a very blurry Yuri and Otabek in the corner of the frame. “Oh! Yuri found Otabek!”

Yuuri and Victor both turn around to see Yuri and Otabek caught in an extremely close embrace. Yuuri hurriedly snatches his glasses back. “W-Wait a second, were you two…?”

By the time both of them can see again, the two have pulled apart with stone-cold expressions like nothing happened.

Victor sprints towards Yuri and shakes him by the shoulders. “Was that a kiss or just a hug?” he demands. “Do it again!”

Yuri’s expected outburst of anger doesn’t reveal anything new. Yuuri finds the answer in the faint blush Otabek fails to hide by looking the other way.

Yuuri gets down into dogeza at Otabek’s feet in the middle of the airport. “Otabek… Please be our driver.”

Yuri stomps his foot on Yuuri’s head. “You stupid pig! What’s wrong with my driving?”

Yuri was, admittedly, a skilled driver, especially for his age. He followed all the laws impeccably, kept a safe distance from other drivers, and had precise control when maneuvering in airport traffic so close that if Victor let his arm hang out the window he could touch another vehicle. The problem was that he matched the aggression of other drivers too well. If Yuuri had the lowest form of currency in the world for every time Yuri honked his horn, cussed at other drivers, or flipped someone off, he could get himself the therapy needed to recover from the traumatic experience of being Yuri’s passenger for a year.

“I will be in your debt,” Yuuri swears.

Otabek didn’t expect his first time speaking to Yuuri to be like this. “This isn’t what I wanted when I wished for a Yuri to be on his knees for me,” he confesses.

Victor gasps. “So it was a kiss then!”

Yuuri is off his knees and seconds away from strangling Otabek in the blink of an eye. “Repeat that?” he asks threateningly with a smile. Their height difference isn’t much, but it’s enough for Yuuri to use to his advantage while he’s grabbing Otabek by the collar of his shirt.

Yuri covers his blushing face and groans. “Beka, you idiot.”

Yuri is riding shotgun, Yuuri and Victor are in the backseat, and Otabek is driving. As a motorcyclist, he is by far the most defensive and safest driver out of all of them. He just can’t stick to one damn lane. He weaves through traffic seamlessly and gets a few honks, but the real problem occurs when Yuri checks the GPS.

He checks Google Maps on his phone to double-check. “Beka, we’re half a mile from our exit! Why the hell are we on the farthest left lane?”

“I can’t read any of the signs. Besides, this is my first time driving in Russia.” He signals and makes his way towards the farthest right lane one lane at a time. He stays cool.

“I know you know Russian! You’re speaking it, right now!”

“I only speak it, I can’t read it.”

“Please stop yelling,” Yuuri begs, “the stress is bad for the baby.”

Victor comforts his fiancé with a side hug.

“You’re both men!” Yuri yells. “Stop acting like you can get pregnant from Victor’s Eros!”

Otabek is now safely on the farthest right lane just before their exit comes up. He turns on the radio, which is currently tuned to a classical music station.

“I’m the baby!” Yuuri cries out hysterically. “It’s me!”

“Weirdo.”

Otabek turns up the volume and changes the station. This station is a talk show and the current topic is about oil prices. He changes lanes to the left.

“This is boring,” Yuri remarks before he changes the station back to the classical music one.

Otabek smiles dryly. “It’s your country.” He finds a dubstep station by accident and keeps it there.

The car is finally silent for a moment while they all listen to the bass drop and the speakers make the entire car quake.

Yuri laughs at the stern look of fatherly disapproval he sees on Yuuri’s face through the rearview mirror. It’s his first time being exposed to Otabek’s taste in music, too, but he thinks he can learn to love it even if he was unfamiliar with it. “So you don’t like classical music?”

“All skaters love classical music,” Otabek deadpans, “but this kind of music reminds me of my old job.”

“What were you, a DJ?”

“Yes, actually.”

Yuri has no clue how a badass like Otabek ended up in the skating world. “You never fail to surprise me…”

#otayuri week #otayuri #day 1 #firsts/confessions #yuri plisetsky #otabek altin #yoi #yuri!!! on ice #fanfic

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lauramalchowblog · 5 years ago

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Top 10 | Best in Show: Community

The 2019 WEGO Health Awards turned out to be our biggest celebration yet! With over 6k nominations and 130k endorsements, we were able to celebrate more Patient Leaders than ever before.

The program celebrates the top 5 finalists in each of the 15 WEGO Health Awards categories, but with so many nominations, it’s nearly impossible to shine a bright light on all these deserving nominees! In hopes of recognizing even more nominees, we’ve compiled the Top 10 Patient Leaders in each category based on community endorsements.

WEGO Health Awards Best in Show: Community Award

As a patient, becoming part of an online health community can be life-changing. The Best in Show: Community category recognizes the hard work of the Patient Leaders who create and manage these dynamic communities. These Patient Leaders have mastered the art of creating an inviting space for newcomers while keeping a safe space that people respect, rely on, and recommend to friends and family. Through active community management, engagement, and moderation, they’ve fostered an environment of healing, support, and hope!

Fight Like A Warrior | Chronic Illness Community

2019 Best in Show: Community Award Winner

Fight Like A Warrior was founded in 2016 by, then college freshman, Alexa Chronister in an effort to make an even bigger impact from our Cards For Warriors Program. Today, Fight Like A Warrior is a community of over 15,000 warriors battling life-changing health conditions. Our organization is run by a team of volunteers who generously give their time and abilities to the programs that support our warriors. Our team is made up of individuals of all ages and backgrounds, but most of our volunteers are battling chronic health conditions themselves, are studying for a career in medicine or are medical professionals, and/or are caregivers for loved ones.

Learn more about the WEGO Health Award winner by clicking here.

Styna Lane | Chronic Illness Patient Leader

2019 Best in Show: Community Finalist

Styna is a chronically ill content creator with a strong and unique voice. She’s used that voice to foster an active and engaged community, helping others feel less alone as they deal with the challenges of the chronically ill life.

Find out how to follow Styna.

IBD Warriors Support and Awareness (Melanie Kiezer Naude) | IBD Patient Leader

2019 Best in Show: Community Finalist

“My name is Melanie. I live in a small coastal town, just outside of Durban in Kwazulu Natal South Africa. I have had symptoms of Crohn’s Disease since I was 7 years old and it took until I was a teenager until I got a diagnosis. When I was diagnosed it was an incredibly scary and lonely time for me. There was no social media. Once social media started I became an admin on Facebook support groups for IBD and opened IBD Warriors Support and Awareness. The purpose of the group is that no newly diagnosed IBD patient will feel alone. If you or someone you love has IBD please don’t hesitate to reach out.”

Get to know this inspiring warrior!

Kristal Kent | Fibromyalgia Patient Leader

2019 Best in Show: Community Finalist

“Suffering with Fibromyalgia myself, I am a Fibromyalgia Advocate, Educator and Awareness Coordinator on behalf of the Fibromyalgia Community. I help the FM Community better understand their illness, help individuals understand the process of applying for disability benefits, support people with advocating for their medical needs and communicate on their own behalf along with promote Fibromyalgia Awareness. If through my advocacy efforts, I can make 1 person with Fibromyalgia feel less alone and validated, then it gives my pain purpose! If through my advocacy efforts, I can make 1 person with Fibromyalgia feel less alone and validated, then it gives my pain purpose!”

Add this community builder to your feeds.

Stephen Estrada | Colorectal Cancer Patient Leader

2019 Best in Show: Community Finalist

“As young boy I can remember thinking Community was just the place you lived and the people around you. It was a hallow word for me. Who at the age of 8 truly understood what a Community can actually mean to someone? And I certainly didn’t think that online communities would become a huge part of my adult life. But then I was diagnosed with cancer. Inoperable stage 4 colorectal cancer at the age of 28. At the time, I didn’t realize I needed a Community…I just needed someone to listen. I couldn’t find others like me…young and actively dying from what was once considered an “old man’s disease.” So I did what any 28 year old would do: I picked up my phone and logged onto Facebook. Building and managing online communities, creating connections, and cultivating support for our patients is a passion of mine, Thank you for allowing me to share.”

Learn more about Stephen’s mission and follow him on social.

Fibromyalgia Care Society of America (Mildred Velez) | Fibromyalgia Patient leader

Mildred Velez is the founder and president of the Fibromyalgia Care Society of America, Inc. (FCSA). The mission of the Fibromyalgia Care Society of America (FCSA) is to provide education, care and supportive services to individuals living with fibromyalgia, their families and the community at large. FCSA will also work to educate medical providers on the appropriate diagnostic, care and treatment of those living with this condition.

Find out more about Mildred and her community.

Zipper Sisters: Women with CHD (Lena Morsch) | Congenital Heart Disease Patient Leader

“In 2012, I saw a great need for women with CHD to have a private, safe place to talk about their issues and concerns. Many women with CHD were frustrated or intimidated about opening up due to unsolicited advice or judgement. It’s extremely difficult to talk about self-image issues, child-bearing, birth control, relationships, and finding the right care in “mixed company”. In 2012, I created a sisterhood of women with CHD. I based my idea of a “sisterhood” on my college sorority days. I started with a few of my close friends with CHD, and we now have over 2000 members from all over the world! We are growing every day! We screen each member before they join, to keep the group safe and genuine. I’m very proud of our accomplishments! We help our members find the right care in adulthood, we listen to them during health crisis, we inspired them to seek the most out of life, and most importantly, they know they are not alone!”

Add Lena to your feed.

AME – Amigos Mltiplos pela Esclerose | Multiple Sclerosis Patient Leader

AME strives to make life better for people with MS in Brazil through community, support, education, awareness, and influencing public policy. The size and passion of the AME community speaks for itself.

Take your feeds international by following this inspiring group.

Christina Doherty | Ehlers Danlos Syndrome Patient Leader

“I consider myself a person first, a patient second, and an advocate third. When I was first diagnosed I was disappointed with the lack of a positive and informative community for patients who were LIVING with this condition (and its co-morbidities). It was the first time I had ever truly felt alone. So I took it upon myself to try to create that safe space for support and conversation where people could ask questions and not fear the answers they might get.”

Interested in learning more about Christina? Click here.

The TIREDGIRL Society (Abby Atkinson) | Chronic Illness Patient Leader

“We celebrate the small wins, the cup of tea you made today, the pain you fought through to make it and the overwhelming strength this community has!”

Learn more about the mission and impact of this inspiring group!

Online health communities are thriving and these 10 are great examples of why. Follow them today!

The post Top 10 | Best in Show: Community appeared first on WEGO Health.

Top 10 | Best in Show: Community published first on https://venabeahan.tumblr.com

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jesseneufeld · 5 years ago

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Top 10 | Best in Show: Community

The 2019 WEGO Health Awards turned out to be our biggest celebration yet! With over 6k nominations and 130k endorsements, we were able to celebrate more Patient Leaders than ever before.

WEGO Health Awards Best in Show: Community Award

Fight Like A Warrior | Chronic Illness Community

2019 Best in Show: Community Award Winner

Learn more about the WEGO Health Award winner by clicking here.

Styna Lane | Chronic Illness Patient Leader

2019 Best in Show: Community Finalist

Find out how to follow Styna.

IBD Warriors Support and Awareness (Melanie Kiezer Naude) | IBD Patient Leader

2019 Best in Show: Community Finalist

Get to know this inspiring warrior!

Kristal Kent | Fibromyalgia Patient Leader

2019 Best in Show: Community Finalist

Add this community builder to your feeds.

Stephen Estrada | Colorectal Cancer Patient Leader

2019 Best in Show: Community Finalist

Learn more about Stephen’s mission and follow him on social.

Fibromyalgia Care Society of America (Mildred Velez) | Fibromyalgia Patient leader

Find out more about Mildred and her community.

Zipper Sisters: Women with CHD (Lena Morsch) | Congenital Heart Disease Patient Leader

Add Lena to your feed.

AME – Amigos Mltiplos pela Esclerose | Multiple Sclerosis Patient Leader

Take your feeds international by following this inspiring group.

Christina Doherty | Ehlers Danlos Syndrome Patient Leader

Interested in learning more about Christina? Click here.

The TIREDGIRL Society (Abby Atkinson) | Chronic Illness Patient Leader

“We celebrate the small wins, the cup of tea you made today, the pain you fought through to make it and the overwhelming strength this community has!”

Learn more about the mission and impact of this inspiring group!

Online health communities are thriving and these 10 are great examples of why. Follow them today!

The post Top 10 | Best in Show: Community appeared first on WEGO Health.

Top 10 | Best in Show: Community published first on https://drugaddictionsrehab.tumblr.com/

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edsenger · 5 years ago

Text

Top 10 | Best in Show: Community

The 2019 WEGO Health Awards turned out to be our biggest celebration yet! With over 6k nominations and 130k endorsements, we were able to celebrate more Patient Leaders than ever before.

WEGO Health Awards Best in Show: Community Award

Fight Like A Warrior | Chronic Illness Community

2019 Best in Show: Community Award Winner

Learn more about the WEGO Health Award winner by clicking here.

Styna Lane | Chronic Illness Patient Leader

2019 Best in Show: Community Finalist

Find out how to follow Styna.

IBD Warriors Support and Awareness (Melanie Kiezer Naude) | IBD Patient Leader

2019 Best in Show: Community Finalist

Get to know this inspiring warrior!

Kristal Kent | Fibromyalgia Patient Leader

2019 Best in Show: Community Finalist

Add this community builder to your feeds.

Stephen Estrada | Colorectal Cancer Patient Leader

2019 Best in Show: Community Finalist

Learn more about Stephen’s mission and follow him on social.

Fibromyalgia Care Society of America (Mildred Velez) | Fibromyalgia Patient leader

Find out more about Mildred and her community.

Zipper Sisters: Women with CHD (Lena Morsch) | Congenital Heart Disease Patient Leader

Add Lena to your feed.

AME – Amigos Mltiplos pela Esclerose | Multiple Sclerosis Patient Leader

Take your feeds international by following this inspiring group.

Christina Doherty | Ehlers Danlos Syndrome Patient Leader

Interested in learning more about Christina? Click here.

The TIREDGIRL Society (Abby Atkinson) | Chronic Illness Patient Leader

“We celebrate the small wins, the cup of tea you made today, the pain you fought through to make it and the overwhelming strength this community has!”

Learn more about the mission and impact of this inspiring group!

Online health communities are thriving and these 10 are great examples of why. Follow them today!

The post Top 10 | Best in Show: Community appeared first on WEGO Health.

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datingadviceonreddit · 5 years ago

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Two years ago, I (24 now, 21-22 then) dated a guy (21 then, 24 almost 25 now) from July 2016-December 2017 that I thought was the One. And I’m still struggling with moving on.Love. It is the most powerful emotion known to man. Apparently, according to God, it overcomes, thrives and prevails. Unfortunately, that is not always the case. Sometimes, love blooms like a flower in the spring, continues to grow throughout the summer, and, although attempts are made to provide it nutrient, the flower can wither and become lifeless by the early moments of winter.As much as I dislike being Negative Nancy – especially about love, of all things, I need to be realistic.When I reflect back on my first relationship, my first love; to the man whom I had my first kiss with, who I lost my virginity to, who I thought was my destiny, my end - all, until I realized that he was nothing but, I see a girl who was naïve and desperate to be appreciated by anyone, not just by a man. A girl that wanted to be seen beyond her disabilities and known for abilities, such as how she could make others smile and laugh and loved everyone that came and went in her life with all her heart. That her humanistic characteristics, from her beauty, her charm, her wits and her intelligence did not go amiss amongst the mess of countless illnesses, scars and pain.It may sound overly dramatic but what I experienced was the worst heartbreak, but the most beautiful chapter of my life that I will always be grateful for. Because the guy who I fell in love with, despite the negative moments that occurred later on, filled my heart with this joy that, at that age, I didn’t believe that I deserved. Even though there will come a day when I will find love again with someone else, I will never forget the first man who loved me like nobody ever did and that reminded me that I was more than those scars that indent my skin because they were signs of a survivor. That I was a powerful, beautiful woman who could do anything that I could set my mind to. That is why I write with the similar pain-stricken heart as I carried that day we said goodbye, nearly two years ago.May 2016Birthdays were my favorite time of year, besides Christmas. My parents say that it is just another day. To me, it is 24 hours of celebration of another year that I am alive. So, if that isn’t special, I don’t what is.When my 21st birthday rolled around, I was over the moon. I was at last a legal adult. Meaning, I could make personal decisions without my parents’ consent, I could vote and, medically, I could become my own guardian. It was so exciting! On top of that, I was a year away from graduating with my second associates. After that, I would, at last, transfer to university.That spring day, I sat down at the table in front of a row of bowling lanes, with a huge smile on my face. Closing my eyes, in front of a few of my close friends (at that time), I thought for a moment before blowing out the candle to make a wish.We were at the local bowling alley celebrating. I remember being asked by a girlfriend what I had wished for. Although I am not superstitious, I gave a small smile. “It won’t come true if I share it!”What exactly did I wish for?As cheesy as it may be, especially all these years later, I wished to find a love, or for love to find me, after unfortunate luck with crushes turning into guys leading me on and leaving me in the friend-zone. It truly affected my self-confidence and self-esteem.More so, as a majority of my friends were in committed relationships. It left me feeling quite lonely and questioning a lot of things about myself. I worked hard to push past those emotions since that they wouldn’t get me anywhere, nor was it attractive. Yet, I couldn’t shake it.Was I not meant for love or to be loved by someone? That is a question that ran through my mind the most. Pains me to this day to even write that out in words.Since I was young, I had dreams of meeting that “Prince Charming” who would sweep me off of my feet. He‘d be tall, handsome and compassionate; his heart would be kind, his mind smart and understanding, and his soul strong and loving. He definitely had to make me laugh, always, and be able to handle my weirdness and sarcasm (ha-ha). There were other standards, too, that I followed to the letter. (Or so I believed.)Two months later, I was finishing up my annual online summer classes when my best guy friend reached out via phone. He told me that he had a friend at work who knew a guy that was single and, potentially, would be interested in going on a date with me. At first, I thought it was a joke! Then, my birthday wish came to mind. No way. Could it be –? Although I was nervous, I agreed to chat with the guy over text, eventually calling him if he was comfortable, to chat before any date was finalized. I wasn’t the type to go on a blind date.By the end of the day, around 5:15pm, I received a sweet introductory text from “Marcus” (not his name, but for privacy reasons). Midway into our talk, he confessed to having a bit of anxiety since he had had some bad luck with dating. This comment was something I found not only cute but attractive, in the sense that I appreciated his honesty. In spite of my lack of history with dating, period, I knew what it was like to, also, be rejected and hurt. And I told him so, and I believe I had him blushing behind the screen at that.From there, over the course of the next two weeks, we got to talking beyond text message as to hear each other’s voices. Hours would be spent talking about our hobbies, our interests; what we did for fun, if we worked or if we went to school, where we were from, and anything and everything in between.Our phone calls would begin the same way each day, like clockwork. Once he left work at 5 o’clock, on the dot, “Marcus” would call me. Since he lived right down the street from the shop, we had about 20 minutes to give enough detail about how we were doing, what our day was like, in almost a breathless sentence. But it was special, just the same.“Marcus” and I would then text for about an hour until about 6:30ish. Then, he would call me, or I’d call him, and we’d continue where we left off over text. Laugh, share something new about the other that we hadn’t said yet, or just be okay with a few minutes of silence, enjoying each other’s company.By the end of the two weeks, I decided it was time that my parents know about “Marcus”. Trust me when I say I was so nervous, but mostly from a mixture of happiness and anxiety that they would freak out. I told them over dinner that I had met someone. At first, they were a bit skeptical, as most parents would be when it comes to their kid dating. However, after some questions about “Marcus”, and seeing how happy I was, my mom and dad said that they would be glad to meet him soon and agreed that I could go on a date with him if he were to ask me out. (Now, mind you, I wasn’t telling them for permission. It was for comfort and trust purposes only, as to reduce any parental anxiety, also avoid being dishonest. Being 21 now, I didn’t need their sign off signature on who I hung out with. Yet, they deserved to be aware that their little girl, now a young woman, was exploring the dating world.)Ironically, “Marcus” asked me out on our first date the very next day. He had found out that the closest mall, of which stood in between us, had a glow-in-the-dark mini golf place! Based on our past and current conversations about things that we yet to do for fun, one of mine being go mini golfing, “Marcus” knew that that would be the perfect place to go and spend time together. I was so happy! And as I said I’d go, I tried not to show any giddiness because the last thing I needed was for this cute guy to think of me as crazy. Yet, by my reaction of “Yes! I’d love to! Let’s do this – I’ll so kick your butt” he knew that I was very excited. To this day, I wish I could be a fly on the wall to see his, if in fact, like in the movies or TV shows, he pumped his fist in the air or something. Knowing “Marcus”, I have no doubt he had a huge grin on his face.That Friday evening, at exactly 6pm, “Marcus” came by my house to pick me up. When I opened the door, my hand shaking, I instantly blushed and gasped in surprise “Marcus” was holding the most beautiful bouquet of sunflowers I had ever seen. “I remembered that these were your favorite flowers. Thought roses were too cheesy anyway” he said with a smile. My heart was beating so fast. I was already feeling a certain way about “Marcus”, as in I really liked him, but now, seeing this handsome guy of 5’10”, wearing a vintage Hawaiian shirt that brought out his gorgeous brown eyes, holding out my most adored flowers in the world, I was immediately smitten.Before we left, he met my parents for the first time. He shook both of their hands, assured them both that he would watch out for me and that he’d call either of them if we needed anything. I looked at my mother, who smiled as if proud and satisfied with the young man that I brought home to them. After a couple questions regarding where we would be going and what time I’d be back home, and the exchange of phone numbers between my parents and “Marcus”, we were off to the mall.We had such an amazing night with together. And he enjoyed our time together, too. I didn’t have to ask. I just knew by our first kiss, which was my own, too, making the moment all the more memorable. It happened right at the 18th hole, after I scored a hole in one. When our lips met, I almost dropped my golf club on the floor. It was a few second kiss, but – my Lord, I was breathless. After parting the kiss, “Marcus” looked into my eyes and smiled this cheesy-ass smile that I will never forget. I knew by how we laughed together as we ran in the rainstorm that erupted the skies, so suddenly, as we made our way to Barnes and Nobles that was next door to the mall. How he stopped me under the tanner above the front doorway of the store to kiss me again, despite how wet we were. I knew because, as he drove me home, he snuck a peek at me now and then, as I did to him, with an adorable smile to hide his embarrassment. And I knew by how he walked me to my front door, said hi and goodnight to my parents who were just coming home from dinner, showing respect, and then, after shared a goodbye with a long kiss behind a closed door revealing that he didn’t want the moment to end,just as much as I didn’t either.I couldn’t stop smiling as I fell asleep that night. I knew it wasn’t love, exactly, since it was a bit early on. However, it was a serious crush and a strong fucking attraction that filled my entire being toward this boy of 21 with a great taste of classic rock, a touch of similar amount of geekiness, short wavy brown hair that fell perfectly around his chocolate brown eyes, and this smile that made me weak at the knees. This feeling exploded even more into fireworks when thinking of our first kiss, and then when he called me to say he was home safe, to wish me goodnight one last time and how much fun he had, that he couldn’t wait to see me again.And before long, we did. A second date happened the next week, on that Friday. This time, it was closer to home, at the bowling alley where I had my 21st birthday party. We had as much fun as we did mini golfing. As we played a couple of rounds, I felt my heart steadily beat in my chest as I looked at him or when he caught my eye, just before he went over to toss a bowling ball down the lane. There was even a moment where he peered over at me, not paying attention, ended up throwing his chance to win down the gutter! I laughed so hard that I had to stop myself from crying, or I’d ruin my makeup. But I didn’t care, honestly. “Marcus” always had me laughing and that is what I loved most about him. And what I wanted in a partner.After that, not even two days later, “Marcus” popped the question if I would be his girlfriend. I immediately said yes. To this day, as much as I fell so deeply in love with “Marcus” and he loved me, I would give anything to go back in time to that day w hen he asked and offered that we waited for the third date. Not that there were any serious red flags (yet) flying about his head, it was, knowing what I do now, I should have thought more logically about such a huge decision. Not respond with emotion. I cannot, though, so I must take this lesson with me into my next relationship. That is all I can do. Along with the other lessons “Marcus” taught me, about love, about life, about myself.For the next year and a half, we were a couple. Although “Marcus” and I did have so much fun together as we did in the beginning, there were many bumps in the road and a lot of storms that we fought through until we couldn’t anymore.If our love story was put out in forms of photographs, we would have hundreds of them. We documented a majority of our dates with our phones, to remember them, as if to have them last forever. From our first to our third (and last) Comic Con, where we dressed twice as Han Solo and Princess Leia; every Friday evening that we either played mini golf in, or Skee Ball or some random game at the arcade at the beach; to when we went laser tagging for the first time, and I sprained my ankle (ha-ha) and ended up in a boot cast for 6 weeks. Then, there was the day that “Marcus” surprised me by driving me to the sunflower field in early September, when we spent the day at the annual festival that June; every goofy grin to high-school-cheesy-kiss, and individual photos of each other, even if we had laughed and said “nooo” with a laugh, because we didn’t agree when the other said we looked great, or beautiful. There is so much more I could illustrate, but how can you write out into words so many memories?Overtime, by the 11th month we were together, that laughter that echoed off the walls of his car or his bedroom became sounds of arguing and my tears, his anger at the world, his job. Our time we spent cuddling resorted to a space between us on the couch; phone calls or text message conversations grew later in the evening, shorter – from an hour or more to about 25 minutes or less. “Marcus” became someone I didn’t recognize. No longer was he the thoughtful, kind, loving man that I had met all those months ago. How he childishly would joke around in public only to embarrass me, to the comments he made about my friends or anyone in my family, or anyone that we saw out in a crowd of people that were a bit different; the blame he would put on me, or anyone, really, during an argument, instead of owning responsibility or verbalizing that upset into communicative words – it would make me feel so uncomfortable, neglected and anxious.I was, also, going through some dark times in my life. From my maternal grandfather dying just a week before my birthday, to college being a boat load of anxiety. On top of that, I had to make sure my boyfriend was okay, that he was happy, when I knew he wasn’t. We both tried to care for one another, but our individual depressive minds built up this wall that neither of us could tear down. But to this day, that was the immaturity within us, being so young, not able to talk things through or process our thoughts in an adult manner.Very soon, the kisses became strained, too, and our intimacy felt forced or exhausting, instead of passionate as they once were. Our date night was cut back to only Saturdays and Sundays due to money issues on “Marcus”’s end, which I wasn’t bothered by, but it caused him a lot of anxiety. This led to a lot of stress between us both. Very soon, our time together became a chore and I hated that feeling so much. But what I hated more was how I was feeling and how “Marcus”, a man whom I believed was the One, treated me.My parents vocalized their dislike for how they overheard our fighting over the phone, or just, in general, how Michael had changed in a course of a few months. The only two things that they “approved” of was “Marcus”’s professional, dedicated work ethic, and how he cared for me – until his actions showed otherwise. I knew what I had to do. Not because of other people’s influence, it was because my mind was telling me that I had had enough and that I deserved better.Three days after Christmas 2017, with a heavy heart and a choked up throat from tears, I broke up with “Marcus” over the phone. I didn’t want to be that person who didn’t do it face-to-face, but there was no way that I could do it without crying and seeing him do the same, because he was an emotional guy – a quality I once admired, since not many guys were so comfortable with that part of themselves. I couldn’t risk him begging for another chance, because we would just be in the same loop of pain, arguing, stress, over and over. I was not only letting us go for the sake of my mental sanity, but for both of ours. We were not the same as we were, and I valued myself much more than to stay around with someone who struggled to value not only himself, but our relationship as he, long ago, promised to do.For the whole day afterward, “Marcus” attempted to contact me by text and by calling me, repeatedly. I hung up each time or didn’t reply to any of his messages. It hurt me immense, because I did love him so much still, but I couldn’t be drawn back in. By dinnertime. I texted “Marcus” and kindly, but firmly, told him to please stop trying to get in touch with me, that we were over. I wasn’t coming back. He then called me, like no matter what, he was going to convince me otherwise but I didn’t answer – my dad did. And, in the same tone as I did in text, my dad asked “Marcus” to, please, respect my wishes and stop calling and texting me. Without hearing “Marcus”’s voice, I knew knowing him for so long, he was broken hearted as much as I was. But our fairytale was over.Early to Mid-2018Months went by. The day of my 23rd birthday came and went, a day when I had loved more than any day of the year, but I didn’t care. For the whole year afterward, I stayed home a lot. I didn’t try to date anyone, nor show my interest in any man that I did come into contact with. I struggled so much mentally and spiritually. I was still so heartbroken over “Marcus”. Saddened that I had to let the potential love of my life go. But to avoid judgement, I would hide these feelings from my family and my close friends with a facade of satisfaction; that I was okay without him, when in reality, I cried nearly every night or whenever a small thing reminded me of him, a song or a place that we went together.I soon went into therapy. It was helpful but it wasn’t at the same time. The psychologist I went to was an older gentleman who was abrasive with his words and heavily opinionated. Not to mention, he didn’t listen most of the time. Whenever I’d come in for our next session, he’d forget something I had said last week that was significant. That drove me insane. Soon, I left him after 6 months, and remained without any therapist whatsoever, trying to deal with it myself.During this time, my mother pushed me into getting on antidepressants, because, apparently, drugs solved everything. I refused. She let go after what seemed to be the 100th attempt to persuade me, or more so, my primary doctor in to giving me the prescription for something that would “get me in line”. We have been strained ever since. And I don’t know when we will never not be.At the age of 24 years old now, I am still single, living at home. Currently, I am a part-time college student going for my bachelor’s degree with the long term goal of getting a master’s in social work. Wonderful friends and family, too. I am quite grateful.Yet, I must be honest: Mentally, I am not doing well. I haven’t in a long while. Not since the day I left “Marcus”.My depression and my anxiety has reached a point where I can control both, but they come back with vengeance if I don’t maintain a balanced mindset. Of which is not always simple. Being overwhelmed by new, abrupt health problems – Post Ovarian Cystic Syndrome (PCOS), IBS, Hypothyroidism and Hashimoto’s disease – all within 8 months of one another, if not longer, without knowing, it has affected my confidence more than ever.I, too, continue to fight against the tides that keep coming in about “Marcus”, after all this time. I continue to battle with an eating disorder and body dysmorphia that I had as a teen. I continue to struggle with the pain of losing my grandfather. I continue to wonder if I will ever be happy and, if not now, when.However, a small part of myself that clings onto whatever hope that was installed in me as a young girl remains alive. That this pain will end in time and that I will be okay soon.But last Tuesday, my phone rang - it was “Marcus”, after all these years apart, saying hi and hoping that I was well, that I was happy. Hearing his voice over that voicemail, then getting to talk with him over text a while later (I reached out to thank him, in a kind way, to somehow have a peaceful sense of communication) for nearly two hours, it opened up many doors to so many memories and feelings in my heart that I thought were almost closed. He and I shared a conversation that I will not be able to forget, for it was so mature, honest and kind. “Marcus” seemed changed in a lot of ways, compared to the guy that I left. But, this was over the phone - I had to see it to be true. Deep down, though, I had such a strong instinct that it was.Since then, I have been struggling to move on - all over again. The temptation to meet up with him somehow keeps kicking in, to have that in person closure, something we didn’t have then. Something that we deserved. However, I am not with a license yet. I have a few friends who said they’d help out if I did want to see him, which I found to be nice and I thanked them. At the same time, I don’t want to push anyone’s hopes up for a rekindling of something that ended long ago. How can I move forward and not be tempted to go back, even if for one day? As much as I do want to see those familiar brown eyes and that smile, to hear his laugh and my name being said by him, it’d hurt so much. And I can’t do that to either of us. That’s how much I care for him still, selfishly and undeniably so.Please. Any advice is appreciated. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. via /r/dating_advice

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