#I know more about my mental problems than any one doctor I've met and that's horrifying

[jaythelay]

Ay are there any psychiatrists or whatever doctors that know the right words to say to get a doctor to do their job?

For example if you're a woman, I've heard most times they're callously ignored unless they claim they're trying to concieve a child, then they get help.

Or if you say you had sudden weight loss they'll take it extra seriously because it's a sign of cancer.

What magic words get a doctor to not abandon me after the first 2 weeks, or overprescribe me 9 (golly all sorts of mental health based pills that worked as well as sugar pills) meds at the same time?

I got this abcess on my cheek since 2019 I've had multiple surgeries for, including taking out an entire saliva gland. All doctors in my area basically are gone or don't take my insurance so everywhere I've had to go is actual hours away. I can't force myself to keep trying on a complete failure of a system when I'm this bogged down mentally after so many failures by doctors for me.

I just need medicine for my ADHD and whatever broke my brain in 8 years ago with shrooms, either DP/DR or serotonin burnout. I've been genuinely trying for years ya'll I've never been more existential, straight up, a less strong willed person would've offed themself the first year in and no that does not make me feel powerful it terrifies me existentially.

I tried saying I wanted real meds to help because I went through, quite literally, all the meds they'd give a depressed teenager and not someone completely brain broken. They were scared I wanted drugs. Thanks doc. I tried saying I was scared of the big meds but I'd like to work towards them this time, they abandoned me after the second week, leaving me in an online call for 2 hours with 0 response nor callbacks of any sort. I tried telling them I think it's a tooth causing the abcess, they didn't listen because they were confident it was a saliva gland. It wasn't. I tried being nothing but honest, breaking down in tears just saying I want to live, they prescribed me hydroxozin or whatever. Something I'd been taking since 2018. I was speechless.

I get they can't immedietely prescribe actual medicine to me until they know me enough and have established a connection, but then they just...leave the state without warning? What am I supposed to do...Seriously.

My roommate has been quite literally The Support I've been needing to get progress on this, I don't drive and barely understand insurance or most stuff told to me really in that world, nor can I with my brain broken from shrooms. He's been a rock, but he's also been the Only Help. I can't keep relying on them as they got their own problems.

Doctors around my area genuinely Do Not Give A Shit. I need these magic words, being honest and patient gets me taken advantage of Incedibly Dangerously. Stretching the truth got me no where. Being myself got me nowhere. I'm tired ya'll. I want to feel Okay. Just Okay. How is that so fucking hard for the medical system when I put Every Possible Ounce Of Effort One Could Manage.

Like, They Took My Saliva Gland Ya'll. They put me on 9+ meds at the same time. It did Nothing. Not One Thing. But make me worse off and more poor. I can't afford to drive 2 hours to a psychiatrist who wants to question my TBI marijuana card and act like the One Helpful Medicine Any State Has Ever Given Me, is actually the problem. That I'm the problem, and we're gonna need blood tests we'll NEVER follow up on despite assuring me it would end up being useful. Where's my blood you piece of shit? What'd you do with it???

Like my god ya'll. My god. Help. Just help. Don't scrutinize I can't handle some dumb motherfucker larping my life as some asshole when I've been more patient than any doctor or psychiatrist I've met. There is no pedastal, I'm on my hands and knees in tears.

Like this one psychiatrist started crying in the middle of me explaining the one happy moment I had with my dog in that recent time, because theirs died- AND TO BE CLEAR, NO JUDGEMENT, TOTALLY UNDERSTANDABLE, but why the FUCK ARE YOU HERE THE DAY AFTER!?!?!?!? I had to shut the fuck up because WHAT the fuck do you continue that conversation with? Set me back so fucking hard man, I just wanted to share a good moment, a rarity at the time, and it went to shit.

Like I consoled her and all that, It's a legitimate reason to breakdown at any job, just...why the fuck the day after when you're a psychiatrist!?!? What the fuck man.

HELP. ME. I'm surrounded by fucking incompetancy. America or whatever, blue state, I don't care. Whatever gets a doc to do their fucking job without threatening to take the only prescribed medicine that helps, away from me.

Please. Fucking Please. I'm tired. I'm not well. And I don't have the energy to try again and again experimenting until I find those magic words. Or maybe I said something? I dunno! I'm desperate to feel any other fucking way than absolutely hopeless.

[mgsapphire]

A tragedy is not romantic

Ok, I've been watching Dr. Romantic 3 and since last week, I've been meaning to comment on it. First of all, I know most kdrama discourse has moved over to tiktok during my absence. But I need to say this. And for a drama to make me regain my passion for meta essays is awesome.

I absolutely love Ahn Hyo Seop performance in this season. It's been literally a year since a performance moved me so much. I spent days still feeling the chills whenever I remembered the episodes of disaster relief.

Having said that, I want to emphasize on this week's episodes. Some people think the main issue is the jealousy Seo Woo Jin seems to have against Kang Dong Joo. But, in my opinion, these episodes are not aimed at settling the fan war about who the better doctor is, but at master Kim's realization that both of his brightest students are flawed, because they've pursued his teachings this far.

Seo Woo Jin literally can't imagine resting because it means, for him, that he's wasting time not saving lives. His hand is not worth the same as the lives being lost. Doctor Seo has proved time and time again that his main problem is that he fails to put himself first. This has been persistent since we first met him. He is reckless in his pursuit of saving lives.

On the other hand, Kang Dong Joo, ever since we first met him, has pursued recognition. Because that's the way he thinks he can save the most lives. This is not a flaw on itself, but in this episode we saw how he has trouble asking for help. He could have called Master Kim at any moment, but feared that he would fail in Master Kim's eyes, even though Master Kim himself said he could reach for help at any moment.

Doctor Seo and Doctor Kang have always been meant to resemble each other, because they are meant to pursuit resemblance to Master Kim. Neither is better than the other, because when Master Kim walked into that Trauma Room, he did not see Doctor Kang as more brilliant, or Doctor Seo as more determined.

What he saw was his best students, and specifically doctor Seo who sees him as a father figure, break themselves in the pursuit of medicine. He saw doctor Kang unable to ask for help when he most needed it, and doctor Seo unable to rest when he most needed it.

Medicine is meant to be romantic, and while self-sacrifice is romantic, it can easily turn into a tragedy. The older student broke his own expectations, and the younger one put his tools at risk, because they so desperately wanted to be like their idol.

Like doctor Kang said, only Master Kim can be Master Kim. They don't need to resemble him, they need to become doctors with their own set of ideals, who know their own limits. Master Kim has come to the realization that he may have pushed them too far without realizing. That yes, they are brilliant, but oh, so human.

This is just another knock of reality that Master Kim keeps receiving ever since Woo Jin injured his hand. His teachings are not dangerous, we can see how other doctors have coped better with them. It's just that these two particular students are stubborn and think in extremes, they want to be the best doctors they know they can be, but are pushing themselves to the edge without taking a break.

A teacher is meant to nurture those gentle and fragile sides as well, and Master Kim is trying his best, but the foundations for their mentalities started way before he instilled gentleness in them.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Hi all.

Looking for advice and reassurance about my situation. Please do not suggest going to a therapist since that's not possible for me right now.

TW: chronic physical illness, hospital, meds, bullying, alcohol, death, burnout.

I have a chronic physical condition and stressful moments in my life makes me more prone to flare-ups. I've also heard from doctors as well as people with similar conditions that psychological distress can be one of the underlying causes and triggers.

I have at least two other family members diagnosed with the same condition on my mom's side of the family, one older than me (my aunt) and one younger than me (my little cousin).

My little cousin's case was so bad she had to go to the hospital and was prescribed some of the same meds that I take even though she's only 12. I don't know how she's coping with things but I do know she has a lot of stress. I would also not be surprised if she has trauma though we've never talked about it in-depth but I do know she has undergone severe bullying at school (I was bullied at school which left me with trauma too) and she also lost her dad unexpectedly (I recently had a traumatic death of a close family member too, which I'll talk about later).

My aunt (same side of the family, but not my cousin's mom) just kind of learned how to live with the condition and doesn't mention it too often. However, I do know she copes with stress in general by drinking. She has actually advised me to drink in order to help with my stress too (but I was raised in a completely alcohol-free household due to both my parents having a history of alcohol problems and not wanting to go back to it after they quit). I already know that drinking isn't the best solution, but I'm just mentioning that to show you how people in my family cope.

I feel like my condition was manageable for a while, then things started to get bad again and I would say since mid-last year or so it's become one of those things where I wake up with daily pain on a severe level. My pain keeps me from getting out of bed, and the medicine I take for it can sometimes have a drowsiness side effect so it's not uncommon for me to fall back asleep, and then wake up in pain again (my sleep position can be another pain trigger but I don't have any way of controlling that).

First I struggled a lot with school (probably the biggest stressor in my life for a while). I graduated and although it took me a while I finally found a job that I absolutely love. It gives me a sense of purpose and the co-workers I've met through my job are genuinely some of the best people I've ever met. But a lot of times I find it extremely hard to relax when I'm not working, and when I am working I constantly feel like I could be doing more or that my work isn't as good as other people's. I took on more work assignments than usual last month and now I'm feeling burnt out this month.

Lately, I had a death in the family that turned my world upside down. It's been extremely tough to deal with. I saw her die in front of me and saw other extremely unpleasant things like seeing her body carried out of her room, seeing her open casket at the funeral, and just lots of other disturbing mental images I can't get out of my head.

After that, I had a really difficult Christmas which I spent away from home on an emergency trip (another one of my relatives was near death, but went back to stable condition). The trip was an awful experience which took a deep toll on my mental health. Everyone was stressed out because it was a last minute situation and I feel like this made us all act way more argumentative and aggressive towards each other than usual.

During the trip and after coming back, I noticed my schedule got disrupted and my pain was starting to get more frequent. Usually I only need to treat it in the morning but ever since the trip I have started getting pain episodes about 2-3 times a day.

I know it's been months since Christmas but I still feel affected by it (and I know I'm not the only family member who is because my mom is constantly bringing up arguments related to stuff that happened on the trip that got her upset, it comes up again almost every day).

Like I said before, the high stress situation impacted EVERYONE and looking back I did say something that I probably should have kept to myself but my mom says she's never going to forget that I said it and that our relationship can never go back to being the same. And honestly it hasn't been the same, it really feels like she hates me now.

There are many MANY more things I could mention but basically it just feels like one thing after the next and I'm suffering a lot both physically and mentally.

At the moment I'm feeling really guilty about my condition. Like I said before I wake up with pain and I've been experiencing pain later on in the day too so the moment I wake up, I'm already anticipating a day ahead where I have to be treating my symptoms but still force myself to be productive/get work done because I don't know how to give myself breaks. And I feel bad because I feel like if I hadn't let my stress levels get to this point then my pain wouldn't have gotten so bad (meaning my physical health wouldn't have gotten this bad either) and I blame myself for not knowing how to cope better. I don't cope with alcohol but I don't know if treating my pain with meds is really that much better, I'm not misusing them or anything but I do worry about potential long-term effects on my body.

As of last month I don't have a doctor anymore (thanks to insurance issues). And I don't think I'd be able to see a therapist (again, insurance issues… and my experiences with "free therapy" have never actually been free and left me feeling worse rather than better).

Do you have any advice on how I can start dealing with all this on my own? From Chantal

Hi Chantal,

I'm so sorry about not only what your family has been going through but also what you've been going through as well. I'm also so sorry for your loss. I can see that you're hurting on multiple levels.

It sounds like this condition is taking a great toll on you and your family, not only the pain itself but the side effects of the medication, as well as how other family members are coping with it.

I'm so glad to hear that you found a job you love, and that you're getting along well with your coworkers. But I can understand how it can be hard to relax when you're not working, especially with the condition you're dealing with.

I also hear you saying how, when you're working, you feel like you could be doing more. While this is hard to subdue, do know that you're already doing more than enough. You're doing your best given your circumstances and that's okay. You don't have to overexert yourself or come out on top every time. It's important to remind yourself of where your boundaries and limits are and respect them when you reach your capacity (especially with a chronic illness), in order to avoid burnout in the future.

I can understand how your loss has been hard to deal with, especially with everything else you've been dealing with recently. I think watching someone die as well as the other unpleasant things you saw could definitely be traumatic, and it's understandable that these images are hard to shake.

I also see how the emergency that unfolded around Christmas made your family more tense and hostile towards each other. Please know that it's okay if you still feel affected by what happened. You've been going through a very stressful time recently and it's important to acknowledge that.

Your question does not necessarily have a simple answer. There are a lot of parts to your pain that I feel like are all tangled up together, and so it may be a little complicated to try and sort them out and process everything on your own (i.e without the guidance or mediation of a mental health professional, although I know that's not an option for you right now). But I can give you a general framework of how you could process your traumas.

This article talks about emotional and psychological trauma and how to heal from these. It mentions that for those who have lost a loved one, part of healing is of course moving through the grieving process.

As for healing from trauma in general, the article recommends to get moving if possible, or practicing mindfulness. "Notice the sensation of your feet hitting the ground, for example, or the rhythm of your breathing, or the feeling of wind on your skin." The second tip is to avoid isolating yourself, whether that's participating in social activities, talking to friends, joining a support group for trauma survivors, and such. The third tip is to self-regulate your nervous system by practicing grounding and breathing exercises, but also allowing yourself to feel any emotions that may come up. The fourth tip is to just take care of yourself as best as possible, avoid self-medicating, rest well, eat a balanced diet, and practice some stress-relief activities.

Please know that healing isn't linear, and there is no time limit. You heal at your own pace, sometimes you will take backwards steps, but it's all part of the healing journey. Please remember to be gentile and patient with yourself, not only as you deal with your chronic physical illness but also as you process these traumas.

I hope I could help. Please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[dual-perspectives]

Health Literacy cont.

These books (the "Big Book" of AA, a Daily Reflections book, and my personal recovery journal) represent the way I participate in health literacy today. More than just tools for considering one's physical health, these books and journals are also necessary for my mental health as I continue to work on resolving the resentments, internal and otherwise, that fueled my destructive drinking habits. What's more, I find that they offer me a place of calm in that, especially with the Daily Reflections, I am able to take time out of my day to consider new ways of thinking about situations that I may not have considered before. In doing this, I help make peace with thoughts and lingering regrets that could influence my behaviors in ways I wouldn't have noticed otherwise. In paying attention to these things, and preventing myself from drinking alcohol when a craving arises, I make sure that I apply what I've learned so far about healthful and sober choices in order to better myself as both a person and as an individual managing their alcoholism.

Remember that mantra of transformation I mentioned earlier? I find myself living up to that ideal whenever I actively put theory to practice and successfully maneuver myself through my cravings. I don't always do it right, but I know that I am more than my addiction because I want to do right by myself for myself, while also considering the way my actions affect the people around me.

While my journey to recovery and my place with sobriety isn't perfect, I consider the pieces of literature above as some of the most important and, at the risk of sounding melodramatic, life saving works I own. Using them as resources whenever I find myself struggling, I find myself reminded that I have the tools to take responsibility over myself and my health, leaving self-destructive ideations by the wayside.

Health Literacy Reflection

Although it is the most recent kind of literacy I've become acquainted with, health literacy and its role in my sobriety is probably the most important form of literacy I know. Not only does its role in my life see that I make responsible and physically healthful choices - like regular doctor visits and monitoring the way my body responds to stimuli - but it also assists in my resolving negative experiences from my youth that bore biting resentments as a result. These resentments that led to my desire at escaping the harshness of reality - like the pains of social rejection or the cultural inequity in society - through alcohol abuse have become easier to live with since integrating direct action against those patterns of thinking that serve self-destruction rather than transformation and healing. In working with the fellows of AA and my team of health care providers, I've become aware of the ways I can always take a course of action that will see me as a healthier and happier individual. In working toward that ideal, while I don't think it can ever be met due to human nature, I can at least see myself moving forward on my own personal "Hero's Journey."

Thinking about the way this factors into my tutoring style, I think health literacy impacts my work in a subtle yet important way: being cognizant of my peers' wellbeing. While alcoholism is also a physical dependency, it is primarily an invisible disease that affects the brain and can severely impact one's thought processes. Learning that made me realize there could be any number of other ailments or health problems that my tutees could be silently struggling with, just as I was when at the height of my alcohol dependency. Furthermore, while I would never ask my peers if they have any invisible mental or physical problems without them telling me first, I still want my sessions to hold space for anybody in such a situation to approach me for help without judgment. While I may not be able to understand every situation, and each person in recovery has their own approach, I want to expand the safety I've established in my practice to include those who are trying to better themselves, even if they don't always get it right. I think that, in doing this, I can allow grace for my peers by considering that their work could be impacted by forces they are trying to manage or overcome, so I should not be quick to assume they are simply not putting in enough effort or giving themselves enough time.

We are all on our healing journey, reader, and I encourage you to think about those things you may be putting off or, when you have time, analyze those memories that plague you and ask yourself how you can make small but constant motions toward self-improvement. I've learned from experience that we can't just will ourselves better without first putting in the necessary work, which more often than not includes soothing those defining moments of our past that cling to our present and, without management, will follow us into the future. Take time to reflect and move toward your own goals, dear reader, and remember the little victories along the way.

[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter Three - Presage

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of Wendy’s drug use. Nothing explicitly *bad* goes on here, just some of the usual SOA shit is hinted at. :) Tig <3

MASTERLIST

Ninety degrees was horrendous. Ninety-six degrees saw Isla spiraling toward a fully-fledged mental breakdown, desperate to climb out of her own fucking flesh and melt into the parking lot outside of St. Thomas.

Seeing the Sons sporting leathers, hoodies, and long-sleeved shirts underneath their cuts made her skin crawl, too.

She'd thrown on the flounciest summer dress she owned, thin and wispy, and she was still roasting to death underneath the Californian sunshine.

It felt like they were living in the fucking ass-crack of hell.

Though, with their current state and Charming's infestation of ATF and other federal agents, hell wasn't too far off the mark.

"Thanks for the ride." Isla expressed her gratitude as she slid off of the back of Tig's bike, pulling the helmet away from loose blonde curls.

"No problem, baby--you good to get home, yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm meeting Gem here, so she'll take me back to T M in time to pick my car up," she confirmed, readjusting herself.

She couldn't risk Tig Trager getting an eyeful of her asscheeks today. Not again, anyway.

"Perfect. See 'ya later, beautiful." Isla leaned in for him to peck her cheek--which was habitual for the pair--and she did the same.

Her smile was wide. She was beaming. "Bye, Tiggy. I love you."

"Love you too, kid." He reciprocated the smile, squeezing her hand as she broke away and padded toward the steps, brushing her fingers through wind-tousled strands.

Things were, for the first time in about a week, finally looking up. Resuming a sense of normality, perhaps.

She and Trager had been on precarious terms since that day, and had been avoiding one another altogether. Which, for them, was strange.

Days went by without even so much as a word being uttered between the pair, no backhanded comments, or even sideways glances.

Usually, they'd be bickering like kids, arguing nonsensically until Clay or Chibs broke them apart--but it was all just their little bit of fun. Because they bounced off of one another.

They lauded the relationship they shared because, really, it was one of the strongest.

He'd been her official favorite since the very day that they met--he and Bobby were the two she liked to talk to whenever she felt that she couldn't confide in her father.

But the last few days were so fucking hard. She was struggling with the weight of all that she did, coupled with the stress of not being able to discern Tig's current feelings on her.

And after she'd lashed out, had bitched at him for no fucking reason, she was pretty certain that Tiggy didn't want to know anymore.

That was thrown out of the window this morning, however, when Isla's clutch blew out, and she needed a ride from the garage to the hospital to see Abel.

Of course Tig was there for her. He always would be.

"Hey." Isla spoke softly as she held the little blue bear close to her chest. "I stopped by the gift shop on the way up here--Jax said he's already got bears and balloons comin' outta his ass, so I thought what's one more?"

Gemma couldn't help but smile, gesturing for the blonde to sit with her opposite Abel's isolette.

"He'll love you for it," she joked, though she knew that she was appreciative. For her company more so the stuffed animal.

With their commitment to the club and the current battle against the ATF, Jax and Clay weren't as hands on as what they usually would've liked.

Of course, Teller was at that baby's side whenever he got the chance to break away from SAMCRO, but he wanted more. He wanted the satisfaction of knowing that his little boy was being provided with the best possible care at St. Thomas.

And he was. He absolutely was. But he needed to know--for his own peace of mind, he needed to see that. So, his mother was there every waking fucking moment, giving him that love he could only get from his Grandma.

"How's he doing?" Her query was braided around a whisper, worried she'd disturb Abel's peaceful rest. "Jax said he should be coming home soon."

Gemma simply affirmed with a nod, gazing affectionately at her grandson.

It was heartwarming to see so much love, so much adoration from a woman who had a reputation for being a fucking cunt--thus proving that Gemma's main priority was her family, and their health and happiness.

That, somehow, made Isla love her even more than what she already did.

It also made her a tad jealous of Jax and the fact that he still had his mother in his life.

"He's gettin' stronger and stronger everyday. Tara said he'll be set to leave Friday--"

"Tara?" Her brow lifted as she put the bear amongst the pile of gifts. "I thought she was a doctor, I didn't think she had anything to do with the babies?"

Gemma's smile faltered a little. "She's a pediatric surgeon. Been takin' care of Abel since the start."

"Oh."

Now, she would've known that if she'd taken the time to visit her best friend's kid since he was born. But she hadn't--she hadn't even considered taking a trip over to St. Thomas to check in on Jax's baby.

And it was for the simple fucking reason that she couldn't bear the thought of facing Wendy and having to be nice to her. Especially after what she fucking did to that poor little boy.

She subsequently landed her own flesh and blood in the hospital after shooting heroin while pregnant? And she wanted Jax to pardon her for it?

Isla wasn't a hateful person, she didn't care about what people did in their spare time because that was their time.

But the moment an innocent person was harmed due to the carelessness of others...That was when she felt a scathing animosity.

"She's good with him." Gemma stated bitterly, snapping Isla from her ire-fueled daydream. "Kills me to say it, but she's a gem. A real fuckin' star."

"I'd bet. She was always good with kids."

"Yeah?" Suddenly interested, the older woman crossed over her arms. "Who's kids?"

Finally, Isla took a seat beside her on top of plush blue leather.

"A few of the girls we were in high school with had kids pretty young and Tara was usually super keen to hold them, or just hang out at their places whenever we weren't at school. Or it could've just been the wannabe doctor in her, now that I think about it."

"She's pretty maternal," Isla hummed in agreement, "but I'm glad she and Jax never had kids when you were teenagers--I don't know how that would've looked for him."

Suddenly, she was staring at Gemma like she had two fucking heads.

"I don't trust her." She elaborated, drawing another confused glance from Isla. "She and Jax would have been a fucking disaster had she stayed--"

"And things worked out so much better with Wendy?" A little more vehemently than intended, the blonde asked.

Now Gemma was the one shooting dirty looks.

"Look, Gem, I'm just saying. Jax and Tara are history now, yeah? You don't have to trust her. Just thank her for what she's doing for your grandson because when he's outta this place, you won't need to worry about her."

"And you're so sure about that, huh?" Skeptically, she asked. Arms folded over. "You know what they're like--like two fucking magnets or something. They always find a way back to one another."

That line gutted her.

It hurt her--it was agonizing--but she wasn't sure why she was so beaten by it. Because it was the truth, wasn't it?

Tara and Jax were, at one point, the strongest couple she'd ever known, and when it fizzled out he was fucking broken. She hadn't seen him so downtrodden since JT had passed, and he was suddenly left without the strength and guidance of his father.

She was his everything. Isla was a fool to think he'd be able to see her back in Charming and not feel something for her. His first love.

"I think we should throw Abel a homecoming party on Friday--if he's coming home then, that is." Gemma shifted the topic of conversation, getting to her feet.

"Absolutely. I'll help."

"Yeah?" She asked a little doubtingly, reaching over to pick Abel up. "You don't have to--I know you work Friday's."

Isla waved her off, standing beside the brunette. "I do, but it's no bother. If everyone's gonna be there, then I wanna show my face too. Offer a helping hand of some sort."

"Alright, perfect," Gem stated softly, holding the baby close to her chest. "When we get back to T M, we can figure out what we need to get."

"Sounds like a plan--" Isla was cut off by a soft knocking at the door, irritating her a little bit because she'd only just gotten there and hated the idea of having to leave already.

She made a mental note to stop by a little earlier tomorrow.

"Hey, sorry to bother you--" Tara stopped herself when she needed her estranged friend, almost dropping the clipboard she was holding against her chest.

Isla Telford was the last fucking person she expected to see today.

"Hey," with a fake smile, she greeted.

The tension was palpable.

Gemma felt the irritation washing over her favorite of the duo, urging her to turn her attention back toward her grandson before she said anything to worsen the situation.

Because she would've.

"Uh, I've gotta run a few tests on Abel before we determine that he'll be ready to leave this week, if that's alright?" Tara gestured to Gemma, ignoring Isla's presence.

That stung a little bit.

"Yeah. It's fine." The response was blunt. Terse, to a point.

"Great."

Isla realized that she wasn't wanted in that space any longer. She grabbed her purse, turning toward the door. "I'll meet you outside."

"Yeah, alright," Gemma put the baby back into his crib, smiling at Isla. "You want my keys?"

"I'll wait on the steps--I'm gonna smoke--"

"Before you go," Tara cut in. She cleared her throat, trying to smile--but she just couldn't.

Telford sensed where it was going, however. There wasn't a reason for her to stop Isla in her tracks, in front of Gemma no less.

She wondered how long it'd take for it to be brought up.

"Thanks."

Gratitude genuinely swept over the doctor, letting Isla know she was truthful in her acknowledgment--or, was it more like a form of praise? Because Jax definitely told Tara what they both did for her, and she was astounded that the woman would even float the idea of helping out.

It was a strange notion. To know what she did--when she looked and acted like that--was fucking weird. And nobody would've believed her if she said that Isla helped to dispose of a dead body, which did make her laugh a little.

She knew how to hold, load, and fire a pistol, but she wasn't capable of committing the unspeakable the same way that Jax, or Chibs, or Clay were capable of it.

But she was slowly earning her title as 'Daughter of Sgt. At Arms/ Man of Mayhem.' And she wasn't sure how she liked that.

"You're welcome," she spoke plainly. "Hope everything is alright now, Tara."

"It is."

"Good." Her retort was immediate, laced with that same genuineness the other woman expressed. "You free this coming friday?"

Hesitantly, she nodded.

"If all goes to plan--and Abel is good to come home--we're gonna throw a little party for the boy," Gemma confirmed with a nod. "You wanna swing by? Everyone'll be there--Donna, Ope, their kids, Wendy, the rest of the Sons. You should come. It'll be nice for everyone to see 'ya again."

Wendy's name falling from those pink lips, in such a positive light, maimed Isla. She and Jax were starting to get along a little bit better now, but she was still wary of that woman.

"Yeah. It'll be great," the older woman added.

Tara felt cornered. She knew that she wasn't really wanted, and she also knew that was a way for Isla and her menopausal best friend--old enough to be her fuckin' mom--to keep the doctor as close as possible without explicitly saying that they wanted to keep an eye on her.

"Sure. I'll stop by."

"Brilliant." Gemma conceded, slipping past the pair. "Address hasn't changed, sweetheart."

It was passive aggressive, sickly-sweet, and it was Gemma to a fucking T. The woman was loathing every second she had to spend with Tara Knowles and she wasn't even trying to hide it.

But it didn't have to be for very long, she thought.

"What was that all about? Why'd she thank you?" Gem queried as they got outside, passing the lighter to her left.

"For not breaking her fucking neck when I had the chance to all those years ago, probably."

Isla sparked her cigarette, pacing alongside her as they headed toward the car.

"That's bullshit."

"How so?"

"Just is." She could read Chibs's little girl like a fucking book. "But I won't press--if it's something between you and Tara, I don't care to hear. Just lemme know if it goes south. I can put a bullet in her for you, baby."

Isla would've laughed had she not known that Gemma was deadly fucking serious about blowing Tara's brains out.

But it was a relief. For her to give it up just like that--uncharacteristically so--was a kind of relief that she never thought she'd feel from Gemma Teller.

She was used to being protected. Used to being viewed as the one that needed to be shielded from the horrors that shrouded the Sons. But Isla wasn't innocent, nor was she fucking stupid.

The security was appreciated, however. Because, lately, things just didn't seem to be going too great for her.

And, if she'd learned anything, they'd only worsen from here on out.

"You don't have to go full mama bear mode, Gem. I'm a big girl."

She laughed, turning to face Isla.

"I know," smoke blew from her nose, "but you've gotta protect the ones you wanna keep close, y'know? The ones you love."

The tip of Gemma's boot pulverized her cigarette into the sidewalk as she fished for the car keys, avoiding eye contact all together.

"I haven't been able to protect everyone I've wanted to from the shit that goes on in this town, honey, but I'm really tryin'. And I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you or my boy."

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi Sex Witch! Found your page recently, and now I'm hoping to find an answer to my problem! Well, a friend's problem. Our friend group is in the age range of 22-24. My friend (afab) wants to masturbate. Trouble is, she has problems getting aroused. She says she is not asexual, and I guess that's not for me to speculate further on.

We come from a place where sex is extremely taboo, though almost all my friends have had sex. No one talks about it, at least not openly. I myself am a late bloomer in this regard, and I've never had sex, but masturbating works well enough for me, and I'm not too worried about the sex part.

Said friend didn't even know masturbating existed until like...2 or 3 years ago. Went through the stages of what is this? Oh it sounds gross. Okay maybe it's kinda cool. Wait everyone does it?

And now she wants to partake, but complains of lack of arousal, vaginal dryness etc. I've suggested porn, erotica, lube. You can see why going to a doctor/getting a sex toy would be pretty much impossible in this case.

Do you have any tips for her? Sometimes, she gets quite distressed about it all.

hi anon,

I can't make your friend horny.

I mean, maybe I can. I've never met her. but I don't think I strictly have an answer to what you're asking for here.

it's very kind that you've considered so many options for your friend, but I'm not sure sex toys would help even if they were more readily available. (although don't get me wrong, it is a bummer that they're not. that sucks for everyone, not just your friend!) generally speaking, sex toys are fun for enhancing and playing with sexual arousal that's already present. they can't conjure up arousal out of nowhere, and from what I'm reading it sounds like that's the main issue here.

(having lube around is always a good idea though, you're not wrong about that.)

it's great that she's interested in giving it a whirl! to quote a sticker on the back of my housemate's car, jacking off is cool and fun. however! just because you're open to something doesn't mean it's going to happen right away, especially if it's something that's carried a pretty heavy stigma for much of your life.

some people have a higher libido than others. there's nothing wrong at all with having a lower sex drive, and it doesn't mean you're backwards or prudish or otherwise against sexuality. it just means that not every time is going to be the right time to touch yourself, and that's fine. hell, some people have sky high sex drives when it comes to partnered sex but don't care much for masturbation. also fine! as are all other possible variations of harmless human sexuality and desire.

look, this might be frustrating for your friend if masturbating is something she's interested in trying out. I get that. and I'm not saying she should just give up until some horniness magically manifests. there are a lot of things she can be doing in the meantime that can improve one's sense of sensuality and sexiness - getting comfortable looking at herself naked, practicing touching her body in different places and different ways to see what feels good and learn where everything is, getting comfortable thinking about what kind of sexual activities might be interesting and exciting. do this without pressure or any expectation -just exploration for exploration's sake, with no further goals. and really think outside the box - anything can be an erogenous zone if you try hard and believe in yourself!

and then, you know, if any of that leads to the desire to masturbate, she can definitely follow that impulse, and letting it happen organically will probably be a lot nicer.

(necessary covering my ass since I'm not a doctor: there are some medical reasons someone might have a spectacularly low sex drive, including hormonal imbalances, depression or other mental illnesses, and some medications. if your friend thinks she might have a medical issue, or is experiencing any pain when she touches her genitalia or surrounding area, then yes, a healthcare provider SHOULD be consulted.)

[jazzforthecaptain]

Hi! I'm here to bother you with more Harkstiel :)

I was wondering how you think Cas being an angel would impact the way Jack views him, especially toward the beginning when they first meet each other? After all the years of gruesome alien invasions, man-made/natural disasters, and loss Jack has experienced in his long lifetime, do you think he'd hold it against Cas and angels in general for not being there to save people? If so, what would be the turning point that makes Cas and Jack view each other with respect instead of holding their pasts against each other?

I can't say I've seen much of Jack's character outside of just Doctor Who, but he's never struck me as the religious type (at least, not in the christian sense), so maybe he wouldn't expect angels to be kind and merciful cherubs as much as others would.

Thank you so much for answering my earlier ask, by the way! I loved everything you wrote for it, and I never even stopped to think about live music in that way, but the way you said it was so in character for Cas and Jack <3

Hi again, you wonderful person, you! I needed time to think about this one, plus I needed a keyboard, because I wasn't going to tackle this answer with just my thumbs.

The issue with Jack Harkness is that while I think some things are consistent about him, quite a lot can't be pinned down. How Jack perceives Castiel and how he'd react to the reality of him would depend an awful lot on the context through which they're introduced, and where Jack's headspace is at the time. That's also part of the glory of writing these two: a coffeeshop meetcute is honestly just as likely as Jack obsessively hunting Castiel down is just as likely as Castiel obsessively hunting Jack down is just as likely as meeting on the same side of a fight for the universe and snarking their way into an eternal friendship. They've never met in canon, and that means they can meet a million different ways, and those first impressions will transform their relationship into something wholly different every time.

So, for this, I'll stick to the context you provided, of Jack meeting Castiel after years of grief and loss on Earth. I've written Jack interacting with Castiel for the first time in similar circumstances - when I wrote them meeting in Grace, Jack wasn't too far into his offworld sojourn, post-Children of Earth.

I agree with you that Jack's not inclined to be terribly religious. I'd go so far as to say he's not, at all. Jack's been cursed with the terrible, unwanted job of watching humanity go through its patterns of behavior over and over again, and humanity's search for Something More Than This is one of its oldest. Also, he's already aware of at least one species that the universe applies the 'angel' designation to. I expect that his reaction, when and if Castiel gets around to honesty about his origins, would be cynicism. I don't think Castiel will ever, ever convince Jack that he's an angel in the sense that Castiel means it. To Jack, Castiel's just another extraterrestrial. Another person from a species he's never met before. He's met people who could do incredible things and people who hold cataclysmic power, and they were all just... people.

With that in mind, I think Jack might air some frustration with the angels over their inactivity against the 4-5-6, and I think he'd have some questions about why Heaven - if it has all this power - doesn't intercede in things like plagues and wars. But to be honest, Jack's been the cause of some of those things, and sometimes a participant. He's had his turn as soldier, jailer, war profiteer, interrogator and spy. Out of anyone, I think he's the least inclined to be self-righteous or judgmental. He didn't yell at the Doctor about ditching them during Children of Earth and Miracle Day, even when he had the chance. I think his mentality is mostly 'do what you can, when you can, but shit things happen all the time no matter what and it's probably my fault somehow anyway.'

I actually think that if he has a real problem with Castiel and they're on good terms, it's going to be about his vessel. Jack's going to be all over that. Who is that, is this consensual, what does he think about what you're doing, how is this affecting him longterm, CAN I TALK TO HIM, etc. And his impression of Castiel will be informed by the answers - and the answers will be informed by whatever point in Castiel's timeline that they meet. I tend to have them meet after Jimmy's already been freed from sharing his body with Castiel, but their relationship would take a very different trajectory otherwise (also due to where Castiel's mindset was when Jimmy was still alive vs where it is after he perished).

In response to your question about when the turning point would be from wariness to respect, I think Castiel and Jack's difficult pasts would be a unifying factor, rather than something they'd need to overcome. I'll air a little bit of my saltiness here: I ship these two more than anything else I ship, and it's because Jack is the first person outside of Castiel's own kind who sees him as a person - not a monster, not a tool, not a weapon. When I first started writing them, I didn't know what a dramatic difference that would make. But oh, how it does. Castiel, approached with Jack's calm, neutral curiosity, becomes a very different Castiel. He unfurls. He trusts. He tells stories. And he has a lot in common with Jack, especially about that whole 'I was doing fine until this passionate moron came along and made me question everything I was doing,' thing. Jack loves to talk, more than pretty much anything else. I think they'd start unlocking the Tragic Backstories fairly quickly, although the process of completing that unlocking will take... a very long time.

And, I think they'd get each other. They'd fight - honestly that's part of why I love them - but not about who was a Bad Person for Doing X Thing. They both have committed atrocities, and neither one of them justifies any of it. I think they see themselves and their past motivations with a clarity that most people don't have, because they've had the time to realize what useless, dangerous bullshit self-deception really is. More than that, I think the thing that would weld them together is their commitment to helping people. They're stuck in this life, destined to live a very long time beyond this ephemeral present. They have to live those lives with the memories of all the horrible things they've done, and no way to find forgiveness for them. I think Jack would show Castiel that the only way is forward, and that giving up would be a waste of every person's sacrifice that brought him here. And I think Castiel would be able to give Jack the gift of understanding; of being seen, fully, by someone who's dealing with similar experiences. The one person who can hear Castiel confess to killing a sibling he loves with all of his being... is Jack.

If there's a turning point, it comes when they do the thing that makes me love them most: ask each other questions.

[one-boring-person]

Only Traitors Consort With The Damned. (Part Ten)

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: blood, mentioned death, injury, gun violence

Context: The SRS have finally arrived, in time for Halloween.

A/N: This is a little bit late, but it's slightly Halloween themed, so I hope that it's still alright! Spot the reference I "accidentally" left in there😉😅

Masterlist

Eerie music plays from hidden speakers as the costumed crowd ambles by, children screaming and laughing as scare actors jump out at them, the variety of zombies, witches and mummies, not to mention vampires, too, astounding, movie characters and even some book characters making appearances around every turn, familiar and unfamiliar lines being spoken to cheerful bypassers. Painted masks and faces litter the mixed throng of people, the twinkling, orange-cast lights throwing the crevices of each visage into sharper definition, ghoulish grins becoming longer, twisted grimaces becoming even more painful, the many slashers roaming the Boardwalk now covered in a blacker blood than before, each fake knife, axe and machete lathered in the stuff. A sickly sweet odour lingers in the air as sweets and chocolate are passed around, often accompanied by a smoking joint, or sachet of some other high-class substance, the strong reek of sweat providing an unpleasant undertone as the stifling costumes heat their wearers despite the late October chill.

As a child, I used to love Halloween. There was always something enchanting about it: you could become anything, or anyone you wanted for the night, and no one would question you on your choice, or look at you oddly because everyone was doing the same. A cheery atmosphere always seemed to hang over the annual event, the leading pumpkins that glittered along the streets and the creative decorations building up the necessary excitement over the weeks before the 31st; a fun game of mine had been to run down the streets of my hometown and count every pumpkin we could see, separately, and see who had the highest tally at the end of the day. Once the winner had been decided, they'd get first dibs on the treats handed to us at each door when we later went Trick-Or-Treating, a rule which drew many arguments to the table when we eventually compiled our loot.

Now, as I watch the roaming children, all I can think of is how easy it is for the supernatural to wreck havoc on this night, given that the spiritual veil is much thinner than usual, and no one suspects anyone of the authenticity of their outfit until it's too late. On his night, the SRS always have their hands full, meaning everyone is deployed, not just the normal Hunters: the retired Soldiers still capable of fighting, Clean-Up teams and A.R.O (Aftermath Recon Operatives) Soldiers all made to help out with the bloody massacres that occur all over the country. The holiday has a morbid side that no one sees, and there's always a high body count the next morning.

Beside me, Marko pushes and shoves at people that come too close, the vampire loudly criticizing any costume made to look like his species, his "improvements" just a little too specific to be joking ones, not quite realising that I'm not listening to him. Instead, I'm scanning the crowds, looking out for the tell tale uniform and tactics used by the SRS Clean-Up teams, eyeing any suspicious person keenly until they prove to me they aren't a threat, often earning me harsh stares from their companions. The two of us look out of place in our "normal" clothing, neither of us dressing up, as we forgot that it was, in fact, the 31st, meaning a costume would've provided a good disguise in case we do come across any dangers. Even as we walk, I bite at my lip, feeling very exposed in my current state, my fists clenching at my sides as I try to stop myself from fidgeting too much, knowing that a nervous disposition is a great disadvantage in a fight, should one break out.

"Hey can we get something to eat? I kinda want some food." Marko suddenly asks me, not waiting for my reply as he pulls me over to a nearby sweet stand, the vampire excited by the prospect of buying the sugary treats.

Uneasy, I stand and turn back to the crowd, watching each face closely, my gut starting to feel odd as I notice something odd about a certain few members of the crowd. Eyes widening in realisation, I grab the back of Marko's coat and drag him away from the stand and into the alley behind it, ignoring his protests as I clap a hand over his mouth.

"Be quiet." I command him in a low voice, giving him a warning look as I slowly take my hand away from his mouth.

"What are you doing?" He hisses at me, eyes narrowed.

"They're here." I respond, looking out at the crowd as I try to figure out what to do, thinking over my options until I notice that someone has spotted us over here; someone who I've already identified.

As I watch, they start to make their way over to the stand, casually wading through the people around them as they try to look inconspicuous, though the mere sight of them makes my pulse hitch.

Thinking quickly, I grab the front of Marko's jacket and pull him closer, pressing my back to the wall as I lean closer to his face, ignoring his shocked expression.

"Kiss me, quick!" I order him, wrapping my hands around his neck as he splutters slightly.

"What?"

"Do it!" I growl, pulling him closer.

Still shocked, the vampire leans in and presses his lips to mine, carefully kissing me until I yank on his hair, silently asking him to be a little more rough, to which he responds by shoving me harder into the wall, his hands gripping my hips much tighter. Groaning slightly, I momentarily forget why we're in this situation, letting myself enjoy the rough kisses as he ravishes my mouth with his tongue, only opening my eyes again to look briefly over his shoulder at the Boardwalk, noticing that the person is no longer there. Knowing this, I let the kiss come to its natural end, before pulling away.

"Thanks..." I say, awkwardly, blushing as he reluctantly lets me go, the vampire clearly wanting more as he allows his hand to linger at my hip a little longer than necessary.

"No problem." He wipes his mouth, grinning at me as he regains his composure, "What did you need it for?"

"One of them was coming over here, and it was the first thing I could think of." I admit sheepishly, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Right." Marko lifts an eyebrow, smirking, "How did you know it was one of them?"

I laugh, dryly, gesturing with my head for him to follow me back out into the crowd.

"Well, back in New Orleans, the head of the SRS realised one Halloween that our Soldiers need a disguise for this particular night, without being too conspicuous, so that they fit in but can also be recognised by each other. She decided that the mask of a plague doctor would be fitting. She said it works for us, because we're ridding the world of a "plague", just as they were." I roll my eyes, "Obviosuly, this makes them very easy for me to spot them, seeing as I used to dress up the same way."

"Oh, right." Marko nods, understandingly, evidently sending some mental explanation to the rest of the vampires, who are stationed around the Boardwalk.

"You can tell them apart, because they have a golden cross engraved just below the right eye on the mask, so we don't get mixed up with others." I clarify for him.

"Good to know." He frowns, "Did you say she decided? As in the head of the SRS is a girl?"

I nod, a little annoyed by the question, but knowing where he's coming from.

"Yep. Her name is Valentine Fletcher. She's the best fighter we've ever had and has the largest body count of all. Not even the Generals around the world come close to her efficiency, she's just too good. I've met her once, and she was also one of the most stuck-up princesses I've ever come across."

"I guess that's why she's the leader, then." Marko chuckles, throwing an arm around my shoulders.

"Excuse me." An unfamiliar voice interrupts us, a hand placing itself firmly on my shoulder as I turn around to face the person. My heart drops as I take in the eerie black beak-shaped mask, the golden cross glittering under the right eye as they catch the lights, the cloaked figure keeping a strong grip on my arm.

"Can I help you?" I ask, getting ready to run as Marko notices the cross, too.

"Yes, I was wondering if you could come with me." The Soldier says, though the tone in her voice is much more demanding, informing me that there is, in fact, no choice.

"I'd rather not." Without a second thought, I slam my arm into her elbow, snapping it inwards as she lets out a surprised cry, allwoig me time to duck under her and and push past her, sprinting away into the crowd with Marko hot on my heels.

Five loud gunshots sound behind us, the Soldier having shot at us with a hidden gun through the crowd, screams and shouts of fear and panic suddenly tearing through the air as the atmosphere suddenly becomes too real, the bullets smashing into the ground behind the two of us terrifying the costumed Boardwalk-goers. Instantly, the crowd around us starts pushing and shoving each other, the heaving current of people now pushing us along as they scramble to get to safety, arms flailing and legs kicking as they go, slowing our progress significantly. Growling in frustration, I pull Marko to the side, intending to reach the alley again, wincing when there are two more shots behind us, though I make it to safety without a scratch. It's only when I hear Marko's laboured breathing that I realise he wasn't so lucky.

"Shit, Marko, are you going to be alright? Can you keep moving?" I ask him, being to figure out where he was shot as he starts to sway on his feet, eyes drooping closed as the pain starts to eat away at him. Grimacing, I swiftly scan the area, spotting a large bin a little way away, which I drag him over to.

"Get in there and close the lid, you'll be safe." I tell him, opening it and giving him a leg up into the reeking interior, helping him settle as quickly as I can, before I go to move again, "I'll be back."

With one last look at him, I firmly shut the lid and start running down the alley, taking as many winding corners as I can, hoping to throw them off as I start to hear pounding footsteps behind me, shouts and calls seemingly coming from everywhere as I start to breathe harder, my pulse pounding in my ears. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, giving me the speed I need to get away from my pursuer, the air rushing harshly into my throat as I turn down another backroad.

A sudden gunshot, followed by a spike of agony in the back of my knee brings me to the floor, my body crashing into a discarded car as it rolls awkwardly to a halt, groans of pain swiftly starting to leave me. Gripping at the new wound on my leg, I try to force myself upright again, only to be kicked back to the ground again by a cloaked figure, who keeps kicking until I'm cowering on the ground, blood pouring down my face. When they are finished, they reach down and force me into a standing position, half-dragging me out of the alley and to the car park conveniently placed by the mouth of the road, where a circle of similarly clad people are waiting, the forms of three kneeling people visible in the dim light of the streetlights. Pulling me over to them, my attacker throws me to the ground in the centre of the circle, manhandling me onto my knees, drawing a small cry of pain from me.

Looking around at the three kneeling people, I feel my heart stop as I instantly recognise them: David, Dwayne and Paul, the three of them bloodied and beaten, burn marks littering their faces from the holy water that was most likely used on them. Horror and guilt flood me as I see them, David's head coming up so he can make eye contact with me, his blue eyes filled with hate and anger.

"Are we all here now?" Someone asks, their voice unfamiliar to me.

"No, there is one more." A voice calls from a little way away, Marko soon being forced onto his knees beside Paul as he is dragged into the light. The vampire is pale now, dark circles appearing under his eyes as his vampiric features break through, his body trying to keep itself from shutting down as he slowly bleeds out, the bullet wounds still oozing the crimson stuff out onto his shirt.

"Ok, that's everyone, we can get started." The person speaks again, this time sounding more decisive.

"(Y/n) (Y/l/n), you have been arrested for conspiring with the enemy, and for shooting a senior officer, willingly, instead of a vampire that was held hostage. Do you accept these charges?" Someone else says, the voice somewhat familiar, though I don't remember where from.

Knowing it is pointless to resist, I lower my head to my chest and reply.

"I do."

"And you are aware of the punishments that these crimes bring upon you?"

"I am."

"And they are?"

I take a deep breath, my muscles tense as I try to ignore the pain in my body.

"Execution on the sight of capture." I recite robotically, knowing them well.

"Good, you remember some form of honour." They sneer, before addressing the rest of the gathered Soldiers, "Are there any volunteers among us who would like to carry out the deed?"

"I do." My blood runs cold at the sound of the voice, my head lifting to look up at the Hunter that has stepped forwards.

"Elijah Forsyth, you wish to perform the necessary execution of (Y/n) (Y/l/n)?" The first speaker questions, confirming the name to me even as they take off their mask.

Instantly, the cold blue eyes lock with mine, the dark-haired Hunter giving me a poisonous look as he limps over to me.

"I do."

"Then it shall be so. Do what you must."

With those words, Elijah steps over to me, drawing a gun from his belt and cocking it deliberately, maintaining eye contact as he lowers it to my forehead.

As the weapon is brought to my skin, I keep my chin up, refusing to feel bad about the actions that brought me here in the first place. Without a word, I accept the fate that will befall me.

Part Eleven

[jessicajonesrp]

An Awkward favor (reposted, since I screwed up response in last one)

It's been about a week since Jessica told Luke that she was pregnant and they were going to be parents. It was news that Luke was excited to hear even tho it scares the hell out of both him and Jessica they were still quite happy. However his wife's unrelenting hatred of doctors is a REAL PAIN IN THE ASS!

It came down to either she bit the bullet and see a doctor or Luke did something that was completely uncomfortable for all involved. It took a day or two for him to get up the nerve to make the call, funny the man can let a grenade explode in his face but calling her made him hesitant.

After finally making the call a meeting time was set..a neutral spot in a Manhattan coffee shop. Luke debated taking Jessica with him, I mean this was basically walking off a cliff for him because who knows what his firecracker of a wife will do but this is for the sake of their baby so he really didn't have a choice.

They arrived about 20 minutes early and found a table towards the back. It wasn't long until a woman walked up to them and sat down, she wore a short jacket to cover up her dark blue scrubs, the meeting time apparently coincided with her next shift. Luke stood up, pulling out a chair for her, smiling at the woman to cover up the awkward feelings he had seeing her again.

"Hey Claire, thanks for coming." 

Claire eyes him for a second before smiling and addresses Jessica holding out her hand. "You're Jessica Jones? Hi I'm Claire it's nice to meet you." 

Luke thrown a little when she ignores him but not so much that he doesn't notice the wedding ring on her finger.

"You're married..Congratulations I'm happy for you."

j

Jessica had always thought that she was the one with mental issues in their marriage. Apparently she was wrong, and Luke had hidden depths of crazy of his own. Because what kind of guy thought his ex wanted to be the baby doctor person- whatever, she wasn't an expert on pregnancy related terminology yet- of his current wife? Or that she, said wife, would be comfortable with the idea of a woman her husband assumedly slept with looking at her naked?

The only reason she even agreed to a meeting with Claire to see if the woman didn't laugh in both their faces, which was no less than Jessica expected, was because Luke trusted her. And for Jessica, that said a lot. She was very skittish with any touch from anyone not within her tiny circle of trusted ones, doctors included. Even pre Kilgrave- after all, it was doctors who made her and Phillip what they were. But if Luke trusted someone, she in turn trusted him, which was more than could be said for a random stranger.

Besides, this was not an ordinary baby or pregnancy. If she had to see a doctor, it had to be one with superhuman experience.

"Yeah, hi," Jessica nodded stiffly, giving Claire a brief glance over and wondering if the woman was doing the same towards her. She shook her hand as quickly as was minimally polite and as was her way, got to it.

"You probably wonder why the hell your ex would ask you to come meet his wife when she isn't obviously about to die, so lets get to that so you can turn us down and go. Right, I'm pregnant, and I hate doctors, because of many reasons, and he says I have to go to some doctor. And he says he trusts you, and I trust him, but obviously with you being ex and me being current you're going to say no. So, sorry for wasting your time."

She starts to back away, ready to leave since she assumes she just had the whole conversation for everyone.

Claire looks at Jessica bewildered. "Excuse me, first of all you don't know me..At all! Second I'm a medical professional so if someone needed my help I have to help them third ain't nobody thinking about yo man or dying to see you naked. Now how about you asked me what you wanted to ask me and let me decide on rather or not I'll do Boo for your skinny ass!" With that she turns to Luke and begins cussing at him in what is probably the dirtiest Spanish on the planet.

Luke holding up his hands in his defense says the equivalent of Yes yes, I'm sorry, but please we need your help back to her in Spanish and smiles at her, 

Claire tries to bring herself to cuss more but sighs before turning back to Jessica. "Look.." sighing again "You need someone that knows how to monitor you and your bady.. And I have experience dealing with you kind of people..So look Luke's a jackass but..Damn that's all I got he's a jackass, so let me help you."

Turning back to Luke. "I don't do this stuff for free anymore, this won't be cheap because some of the stuff we'll need is expensive..But Mr. Big Time that shouldn't be a problem for you."

 Luke nods yes. "Whatever you need I'll take care of it..But this is absolutely on the down low Claire..So not even your husband can know about this." He looks at Jessica concerned "Guess it comes to you Jessica, what do you want to do..If not the hospital or Claire, something else?"

"We'll do whatever you want." Claire moves closer and smiles again "This is some awkward shit but I can do this..Hell I've done harder with less than what your husband just agreed to buy and not be cheap about it either." Giving Luke the side eye 

"Its gonna be ok.. I'm off Sunday, I'll come by the club and take a look at you." 

Luke interrupts her "Actually we have a place in Harlem, it's nice I'll text you the address." 

Claire gives Jessica one more look of assurance.

Jessica turned back to face Claire, taken aback by her attitude. This was the first time she had met someone who was actually more verbally feisty than she herself, and for a second she just stared at her, a little stunned by her response. She was still processing that the woman had more than just dished back at what Jessica had laid out at her, and was in the middle of turning over in her mind how Claire had figured out she was squeamish about her seeing her naked while simultaneously calling her skinny, before the Spanish flurry of exchanges started.

"That's fine, anyway I have to get to the hospital to start my shift, so see you Sunday?" She looks at Jessica waiting for an answer.

Jessica, who knows about as many Spanish words as might be uttered in a Taco Bell commercial, outright stares when Luke starts responding back to her in Spanish in return. She had no idea that he knew Spanish, let alone enough to be able to understand the rapid, angry-sounding spew of words that Claire had just flung at him.  Her taut shoulders ease up a little as she watches, and she slowly starts to smirk.

“Damn, Luke. I’m starting to see a pattern, you really like women that say it how they see it, huh.”

When they finally start speaking English again and Claire addresses her directly, Jessica stiffens, not liking her calling Luke a jackass, but she can get why she would feel that way, considering the position he’s putting her in as his ex.

“So…wait, you’ll actually do this? Even though you sounded like you wanted to take his head off a second ago?”

When Claire continued to assure her, she shifts nervously, playing with the sleeve of her jacket.

“What stuff do you need? The expensive stuff you’re talking about. And, uh, what do you need to do to me, exactly?”

She hesitates, hating as usual to have to actually verbalize any kind of feelings-related, vulnerability-involved things, but if this woman is going to be her doctor, it’s more than likely going to be a necessity, so she makes herself spit it out.

“It’s not really the you being ex thing that trips me out, okay.” She took a breath, then ground out, “ I have PTSD. I don’t always do great with people touching me. And the last few encounters I’ve had with doctors have been the doctors that made me what I am, and the doctor that made my rapist who he was. Who also happened to be his father, and trying to save his life, but that’s a whole different story. I’m not trying to be an asshole, I just…..it isn’t anything personal.”

She looked towards Claire, but not directly at her as she finally answered. “If you’re willing, I guess I’ll try. I want the baby to be okay. Just…you have to tell me what you’re doing, and why, and stuff.”

[mimzy-writing-online]

Hey!! I was wondering if you had any advice for a character concept I've been playing with? :) long story short, my character wasn't born blind, but throughout the story she progressively becomes blind from cataracts- cortical vision impairment to be exact. Is this inherently a bad concept? I really don't want to misrepresent this, and the last thing I want is to make people mad about it. Is there a way I should go about this? Thanks!!

Later message from same Anon: Hey! Just following up on my ask of writing a blind character in the Victorian era- sorry if I missed it

Note: in a message between the first and third, anon added that this story takes place in the Victorian era.

You certainly did not miss it, I’ve just been lazy (struggling) with blog maintenance and have been procrastinating answering several asks.  Historical fiction is out of my area of expertise, so this required more research than general advice.

Also, my first and second attempts at an answer were eaten away by computer/tumblr difficulties, so I had to rewrite a lot.

I think it is a fantastic idea to have your character go blind slowly over time. It is also ambitious, so it is something you need to be careful with, but it’s totally doable.

So the era throws me a little because I’ve never had much practice with historical fiction and history wasn’t a fave subject of mine. Most of my research into blind history has been after World War I, because the sudden surge of blinded veterans changed the course of history for the blind community. This and technology overall led to those huge changes.

So I did a little reading up on the recent evolutions of blindness and the world’s general understanding of it in the 1800s.

Conclusion: society was shit with disability, but I already knew that. There were some remarkable inventions and innovations for blindness in this century, which I will get to later.

 So this post will be: 1. The more personal aspects of going blind over time (instead of all at once) such as acceptance vs denial, life changes, and internalized ableism. 2. Speculating on society’s perception of the blind. 3. Innovations for the blind in that era and what comes after.

 So, part one. The Emotional…

As someone who has slowly lost vision over the course of years and has no idea how far this will progress, I can tell you that it’s an agonizing process of realization, denial, understanding, acceptance, adaption.

Realizing you’re going blind comes in small pieces that eventually add up to become a puzzle. And for this reason, adaption follows a similar pattern.

You identify a problem, feel conflicted about this change, wonder if you should ignore or investigate, and regardless of which path you take, you find a new way to adapt.

I’m going to use an example of my process through this, so you can see the actual thought patterns and how they circle between “this isn’t a problem” – “wait this is a problem” – “no I’m fine!” – “this is a problem.” – “I’m fine, what am I complaining for” – “I made this change and now my life is 100x easier??? Who knew? Why didn’t I do this sooner?”

Example from my life: Light is bright. That hurts but I’m fine. I get sunglasses. The pain with bright light is getting worse. Okay, that’s concerning, maybe I should talk to a doctor. Doctor says I’m fine but now I’m thinking I’m not okay. Why are my eyes doing this? Why do I hurt? Oh, and now bright lights at night are becoming a problem, and I get more headaches associated with light. I could wear sunglasses at night and indoors, but society has given me a negative and judgemental opinion of that, so I don’t want to do it. Best friend pushes me to give up on that negative view for the sake of my health. Finally I listen and life feels much better, but I’m still a little uncomfortable with this change. I feel very blind with my sunglasses, but that’s the only way to not feel pain. And now I feel blind when I’m not wearing any light protection, but I’m in pain this way. What’s wrong with me?

And this is just my internal argument with sunglasses and light sensitivity, from age 17-22. On the other side is my struggle with “do I need a cane” from age 21-22, which goes like this-

It’s August and I’m walking through a semi-familiar but gigantic and ridiculously crowded park with a group of friends. It’s bright out and I need to wear my sunglasses. And now I’m realizing there is a dilemma. I can’t see. My sunglasses are too dark to see. But going without is painful and just as bad vision wise. BUT I CAN’T SEE! I’m scared, I’m going to run into someone or something, I’ll get lost or separated from my friends and not be able to find them. I can’t see curbs or pillars or people and the only thing keeping me safe is holding onto K, who knows my current vision situation when no one else does

And I think to myself- this day would be so much easier if I had a cane.

But I haven’t needed one before, and I don’t ‘normally’ need one. Just every time I go outside on a sunny day. I don’t need it all the time, so I can’t have one, I’m fine.

But these things keep happening, where I’m outside and terrified but I think I’m still “sighted” and my only problem is some light sensitivity and not-super-great sunglasses. My glasses let me see 20/20 (or they did, which they did not a year later) so I definitely don’t need a cane at all.

Young past self, you were so wrong. You needed that.

Eventually I had a breaking point when one year later I’m seeing 20/50 with best correction (so, by legal definitions I’m not even visually impaired yet) but I’m terrified of leaving my house and can’t travel alone and am a literal danger to myself because I can’t see and can’t tell people I can’t see because of social anxiety and internalized ableism-

And the breaking point was that I finally got seriously hurt because I was in a situation where I couldn’t see and wasn’t brave enough to ask my current company to be a sighted guide. That’s the day I ordered a cane, and when it came two weeks ago, I finally remembered what it’s like to not be so terrified for my life every time I left my home.

Your character will over time find problems with her daily life that she didn’t have before, and she’ll deal with each one individually, but with all of them will usually be a repeating thought pattern that is unique to her. It depends on her internalized ableism and society’s ableism (and that era is full of it) and accommodations available to them at the time (also not great).

She’ll solve each problem at a different point that may coincide with other problems and yet still seem like entirely separate problems to them. Like how I wouldn’t relate my need for sunglasses and my need for a cane at the same time because they felt like separate battles to me with their own timelines and similar but still different thought processes.

You will have to decide on a case by case basis what accommodations or accessibility she can have at that time.

 Society’s view on blindness:

It’s shit.

It’s not great now, in the world of information available at your fingertips. It’s desperately worse in history.

 (TW: abuse of disabled people mentioned -thoroughly- in the next two paragraphs)

Everyone with a disability was treated like shit. Sensory disabilities (Deaf or Blind or Deafblind people) and mental illness were treated the worst. There is historical religious persecution against them, saying that they were made ill by the devil or a vengeful God. Which lead to abuse. They were seen as helpless or unproductive, defective, and so were treated as burdens upon their family and society. Because of this, abuse from parents and family members was horribly common for disabled people. Disabled people were often left in asylums by their family members because they were seen as a burden, where there was usually still more abuse to come.

There are still children with disabilities who are abused by their parents, families, care givers, or any facility they’ve been placed in. The cases of abuse are less, but by no means over.

 Ableism in general is just rampant and it’s only cured through the distribution of information. Most people (today) have never met a blind person in real life, had a conversation with one. Through the internet they can find information, but in pre-internet and media eras I can’t imagine how much ignorance runs about.

Most people think blindness is something that only happens with old age, birth defects, or tragic accidents. Or that blindness is obvious in a person. Not the case, as we both know, but certainly a cause for many misunderstandings.

 This section is where the development of technology and understanding of blind people begins, but there’s still some ugly history involving abuse of the disabled to come.

Technology and History

 (TW: abuse towards historical disabled people in next paragraph)

In 1785 the Institut National des Jeunes Aveugles, the world’s very first school for the blind was established in Paris, France. It was opened internationally to children who society had previously deemed unteachable. Valentin Haüy witnessed acts of bullying and cruelty done to blind hospice patients and it inspired him to attempt teaching a blind beggar. He taught the boy to read through raised letters (because Braille was not yet invented). The school he founded could better be described as a trade school, because its primary purpose was to teach work skills like letter press and weaving (going back to Valentin’s childhood, whose family worked as weavers)

Due to criminal activity (he was labeled as a terrorist related to the French Revolution and was a member of the Panthéon Club) he was forced to leave the school in 1802. He later moved to Russia (1806) and began a new school upon the request of Alexander I of Russia.

(TW: child abuse mention in next paragraph)

After his leave, the school had a change in leadership and location, and subsequently quality. Sébastien Guillié became the new director and was later forced to leave because of the inhumane conditions of the facility and welfare of the children. Those children lived in a French Revolution prison that was refurbished as an asylum/school for their education. It was cold and dirty. They were kept in the dark, only allowed to bathe once a month, and poorly fed. This went on until 1821 when he was forced to leave.

Louis Braille (the inventor of Braille) was a student of the school until Guillié’s reign of terror.

The school was later moved to Boulevard des Invalides, and it remains there today. Information with this school is hard for me to access. It doesn’t have the prettiest history, so I can only speculate how much was left out of the books to save the school, and what information I could access is in French.

However, back to Braille.

Braille was invented by Frenchman Louis Braille in 1824. Before his invention, he was taught to read through raised lettering, and he concluded that raised lettering was impractical because-

1.       It is difficult to read, the letters had to be printed in huge font to be fully felt out and printed on thick paper.

2.       Thick paper means higher quality, more expensive. Larger font means more paper is needed for a single text.

3.       This made it inaccessible due to expense and the sheer volume of a text.

4.       If today’s Braille books are hard to access and giant compared to traditional books, I can’t imagine how inaccessible those raised letter books really were

 Five years later The Perkins School for the Blind was founded in America, making education accessible to blind and deafblind children, and this time it focused on reading and mathematics, more education than trade school.

Though it would not have been possible for your character to attend the school herself, it could be possible that she became acquainted with a teacher or former student of either school, who might have passed on some O&M skills to her or some not so pleasant tales.

Side note: the Perkins Brailler (a typewriter machine for Braille) was developed by a wood working teacher at the Perkins School for the Blind – in 1951, so not applicable to your character’s time period, but I didn’t know this, so I must info-dump

 This is before the eugenics movement of 20th century America, when the belief that people with “poor breeding” should be prevented from breeding. The eugenics movement targeted not only the disabled, but lower class and people of color.

  The white cane as an accessibility tool was not “discovered” until the 1930’s by Philip Strong, who painted his walking stick white to make himself more visible. This piece of history is a little flimsy in my opinion. Techniques are discovered and lost and rediscovered all the time. You can’t prove he was the first person to “wave a stick” in front of him to find obstacles.

But he is credited for making the white cane something that could be a standard identifier to tell people (moving obstacles) “hey, I’m blind, don’t hit me with your loud vehicle” and made a movement of other people getting white canes to identify themselves.

I very much thank him for it, seeing as I’m so sighted-passing sometimes. If white canes weren’t standard everyone-must-know-what-this-means sort of thing, I think people would just watch me “wave a stick” around and think I’d lost my mind.

(TW: suicide of disabled character mention in next paragraph)

So when you see something like in Downton Abby (season 2) when Thomas and Sybil are trying to teach a blinded soldier how to use a cane to navigate… it could be possible, something that actually occurred to some people then. Although, now that I think about it, that character killed himself by the end of the episode and that still upsets me.

Downton Abby got the period-typical ableism right, I will give them that. Both the internalized ableism as well as how strangers treat you, they got that right. What they did to their disabled characters still bothers me (i.e. death and cure subplots)

(TW has been lifted, you made it past.)

But with World War 1, there was a huge number of blinded veterans entering the world and that did make way for big changes in the world of blindness-

Within a few decades guide dogs were being trained, white canes were becoming a thing, Schools for the Blind were thinking, “hey, maybe we should teach adults these skills too!” and life continued on until it eventually reached out modern world. Which, not applicable to your era, but I think it’s important to know what wasn’t available or common knowledge for your character.

If anyone has other information about historical fiction, the Victorian era, and historical ableism and disability, please feel free to reblog with your input and I’ll reblog it.

As always, this post can be found on my blog through the tags: reference, blind character, historical fiction

[diamondsnpolaroids]

I know I havent posted in awhile, and I will catch you all up on my weekly polaroid progression shots but I've really been struggling this week and I need to get it out somewhere.

Yes. I am still pregnant. In 3 days I'll finally be 40 weeks. A milestone I never thought I'd get to because this entire pregnancy has been a rollercoaster of emotions, pain and endless struggles. I didnt want to be pregnant this long. At all. This is going to be long and there will be a lot of personal details, but I need to get it out. I'm tired of having all these thoughts with no outlet.

Since I was 16 years old I was convinced I would never be able to have a child. It was always a devastating thought until I got to the age of 22 when i finally kind of accepted the fact and was okay not becoming a mother. The one thing i wanted between those years, the one thing that broke my heart was I'd never be able to experience the feeling of being pregnant. That may seem silly because that's such a short period of time when it comes to being a mother. 9 months of growing a human compared to the years and years of seeing that person grow is so minuscule. But for some reason that was always what broke me most.

I was dating the same man that entire time. I was 16 when we first starting dating, and I'll be convinced till the day I die that he was my soulmate. He was my best friend over absolutely anything. I could be my totally authentic self with him. He knew how weird I was and stayed. He watched me drown myself in my depression and stayed. He saw me act like a child, like an adult, my worst and best moments. Experienced my grief and my biggest accomplishments and was always right there for me. Growing up with an alcoholic drug addict father I knew I needed a man that would never abandon his family for those things. He was the man I knew I never needed to worry about.

I never really noticed the abusive behavior. The mental torture, isolation, the control he held over me, how hard his harsh words would hit.. it never really crossed my mind because when the good times were good, they were great. When they were bad, I was convinced it was all on me. My depression was the controlling one. My insane mind was the problem. Never him. Then the alcohol started to take over. He consumed himself in it whenever he had the chance. His childhood was ruined by this substance just like mine was and he was slowly turning to it instead of working out his trauma that it caused. Hed increase the intake slowly but surely and when it got too much for me to handle I'd cry and beg that he stopped. Seeing how upset it made me the first few times hed stop or slow down. But it was never for long. Hed go a week and then once again it would slowly increase and the cycle would continue. After awhile, I was "crazy" and he was "just doing what everyone our age was doing". No one our age was drinking 6+ a night on week days and spending $200 at least per night on the weekends. By the time we hit 7 years it got to an all time low. April of 2019 I realized all of this wasnt okay any more. An old friend had walked into my life and for the first time in years I was treated like a human being with feelings. Real feelings that were valid. I was told and shown that I was no where near the same happy girl I once was. It was all over my face and in my body language that I was a totally different person and not in a good way. It was clear just by looking in my eyes that I was severely depressed. I was reassured that my decision to split to work on ourselves was indeed the best step forward I could have ever taken.

My boyfriend reluctantly agreed to end the relationship for the sake of bettering ourselves or else we'd never last as a long term couple. He stopped drinking. Wed still hangout but was met with an extreme depression on his end, begging for me to stay and help him through it as if I hadn't tried for years and years. I knew nothing I could do would make him change, it needed to be a decision he made for himself. He had ruined every part of my being and I needed to explore who I was as an individual. My old friend made me feel ways I hadn't in years and eventually I caved to my emotions and desperate need to feel wanted without the attachment and abusive behavior always on my shoulders. I wasnt with my ex, and I kept it from him. After a month I started to notice his changes but it wasnt enough. He still tried to keep me wrapped around his finger while questioning my every move. He was working on it though, and I was noticing the change, but I couldnt stop what I was doing.

After another month he found out. He was upset, naturally, but was still around. He still wanted to work on it. Then 3 days later I took my first pregnancy test. It was positive. I kept it to myself praying it was a fluke. I took 2 more the next day. It wasnt. I took one last one, called my doctor, then called him over. I told him, and it wasnt an ideal reaction. He was forcing an abortion on me. For someone who never thought they could get pregnant, to find out after years that it was indeed possible, I just couldnt. This was a miracle in my eyes. Once I told him I couldnt, giving him the option to sign off all his rights and to stay away if that's what he wanted, he accepted he was going to be a father. But he also disappeared. Just up and left, and I was met with the worst mental abuse he could ever dish out for weeks. I had never felt so low in my entire life. Being told our child is a mistake, how terrible of a person I was and how him not being around is totally and completely my fault. What i failed to mention is for the last 3 years of our relationship he would use snapchat to talk to girls behind my back. I'd check his phone after every fight and hed go out drinking, just to see up to 7 different girls names with a "sent" notification beside them. I'd delete them off his contacts, confront him, ect ect, but he never stopped. I was always ashamed I stayed with someone who could do this but my love for him was so blind and so strong.. I couldnt let go.

Whenever I would mention all the hurt he caused me, it never compared to me sleeping with someone else while we weren't even together. It was ALL. MY. FAULT. And he couldnt take even an ounce of responsibility for how he treated me and pushed me out of his arms. After 2 weeks of us knowing I'm pregnant, he started seeing someone else. He was drinking beyond what he ever was with me, and now he was with someone else. Some girl who was also fresh out of a long term relationship, totally okay with the fact he was to but also expecting a baby with. I shouldnt have been mad or upset, we weren't together, but it hurt. I wanted the man I thought I'd never have to worry about being a good dad to actually be here with me on this journey. But he wasnt. For the months to come he gave me promises that their relationship wasnt an offical thing and reassured me he doesnt think she'll be around long. I shouldnt give up hope on us. My hormonal, emotional self prayed that was true.. until they became official in September.

Once that happened, it was like a ghost town. I only saw him for the 3 ultrasounds we had to pay for. He never came to any doctors appointments, he didnt feel the baby move, nothing. The entire time blaming me for him not being around. I sat at home every day after long shifts at work knowing I'm all alone in this world, growing a baby, doing everything by myself while he lived his life with no responsibility, laying next to her every night. Every day my heart broke. Some days were better than others, but not a single day I didnt wish and pray that hed atleast be there for his child. I knew my feelings weren't relevant anymore, I just wanted my son to have a father. He needed to have a father. I wasnt going to let my kid go through life always wondering why he wasnt enough for him like I did. I still hurt for myself, but no where near as much as I hurt for my son. I was given empty promises from my ex, he said hed call every day so atleast if he didnt watch our baby grow inside of me, hed atleast know his voice when he finally arrives. But hed go days without calling, and it would somehow turn into my fault because I hurt him too much to call his son.

I've spent this entire pregnancy working on myself, on my mental health, researching how to be a mother, what I need to do and stay away from, how to cope with every type of situation that may arise. I've done nothing but work on growing myself to be the best person I could be for my son. He just stayed drinking away his problems, distracting himself in every type of way he could. Avoiding all responsibilities of becoming a father soon.

Fast forward to about a week ago, when a phone call got a little spicy heated between us and ended in me sending him some snapchats of myself by his request. I know I shouldnt have, he was with someone else, but I missed him and wanted one last feeling of being wanted by the man I always thought I'd marry. I did exactly what broke me the last 3 years of our relationship and I really didnt feel bad about it. For 2 days this continued until it just stopped and he got cold with me. Once again, I'm left broken hearted but this time, I know it's my own fault.

During the time before this, for months I highly considered giving my son my last name. It made sense. He wasnt reliable enough to even spend 30 seconds every day to call his son, how could I ever believe hed be there every day for him once he was born? It was logical. Everyone who knew our situation told me I should even before I brought up that being an option I was weighing in my mind.

A few days after our snapchatting stopped, I had to finally tell him. I couldnt bring myself to blindside him with something so serious. I should have, really, but I still hold his feelings deep in my heart, and I couldnt hurt the man I spent over 7 years with like this. So I told him. He broke. But not in any way I ever thought he would. He confessed how he still loved me, how everyone around him knows he still loves me, ending with how much this would break his heart, giving us no chance of ever being together again. We'd never be able to do things as a family, hed never look at me or our son again. It was, to say the least, extremely intense. But it also left me wondering if this was one of the many manipulative ways he knows to get what he wants. He always brought "us" up to get his way on things. It felt genuine, but I'm also extremely hormonal and yes I still love and miss him like crazy.

It's been a few days since then and theres been no word of any feelings since. Hes been cold and more distant and my heart is once again broken into a million pieces. Hes called a couple times but he still misses days. I was given the go ahead to try and self induce labour by my midwives so I have been. When he calls and asks what I did with my day, I'd tell him. Last night apparently I shouldnt have. I was met with anger because I should "leave him be, he'll come when hes ready" as if he knows any kind of physical pain I've been through these last few months.

These past 2 weeks alone I have felt nothing but pain. Between feeling my hips separating, my pelvic bones shifting and my son's head descending lower, constant back pain, not being able to walk properly, my kid sitting on nerves leaving my legs feeling paralyzed or sending shocks into my vagina. Not being able to sleep more than 2 hours at a time max, peeing every hour on the hour, his feet kicking my ribs so hard I curl over, getting his feet stuck under them as well. The pains are unimaginable as you can see, now mixed with all the emotional distress I've been under... you could imagine how I'm ready for this child to enter the world. But no.. I'm being selfish. He isnt ready. I'm fine to keep going. Because apparently my ex knows everything my body is enduring just to bring our child into this world. It broke my fucking heart last night when he yelled at me for it. Absolutely shattered it.

Which brings us to this picture. I couldnt sleep once again, and every time I woke up I was met with mind numbing depression and long crying spells. I feel more alone than ever. My 16-22 years of age is crying for me knowing this was all I ever wanted out of life and it has been constantly ruined and brought down by a man I never knew would act the way he has been. This pregnancy was so easy in almost every aspect compared to most women, I've been so so blessed to have such an easy time physically and yet I constantly feel as if he has ruined this experience for me. Sometimes the mental abuse from a man is worse than the physical. And he knew exactly how to ruin this all for his own selfish needs. I've spent all day today feeling ruined, beaten down, and just straight up depressed. I'm not ready to be a mother, infact I am absolutely scared shitless to be one. But I'm willing to go through being scared over all this physical pain I've been through that seems never ending. I'm ready to meet and love my little man. But once again I feel like I cant even be happy about it because of my ex.

I'm tired. I'm so so so tired of being so inlove with a man who has shown me time and time again he wont be the father I always knew he could be. My heart hurts so bad for my son every single day. And I'm just.... tired. Which is why I'm posting this picture along with my story. I know some women have it worse with their pregnancies and the fathers leaving. I know some men can be all of this plus physically abusive towards women. I know I dont have it the worst, but I'm trying. I need to for my son. I doubt this post will get very far, and I know a lot of judgment will come my way for it, but if my pregnancy journey can help even one woman not feel so alone, then I'm happy with sharing it.

[dukereviewsmovies]

Duke Reviews: Thor Ragnarok

Hello, I'm Andrew Leduc And Welcome To Duke Reviews Where We Continue Our Look At The Marvel Cinematic Universe...

Where Today We Are Looking At The 3rd Outing For Thor And The Second For The Hulk In Thor Ragnarok..

This Film Finds Thor And Hulk On The Planet Sakaar Where They Must Escape So They Can Stop Thor's Sister, Hela The Goddess Of Death And The Impending Ragnarok, Will They Succeed?

Let's Find Out As We Watch Thor Ragnarok...

The Film Starts In Muspelheim, Where Thor Has Been Captured By A Being Named Surtur (Voiced By Mr. Krabs)...

I Wish I Were Kidding...

Anyway, Surtur Taunts Thor, Telling Him Not Only That Odin Is Not On Asgard But That In His Absence Asgard Is Vulnerable For Him To Unleash Ragnarok By Getting The Eternal Flame From Odin's Vault...

Calling Mijolnir To His Hand, Thor Breaks Out Of His Chains And Fights Surtur's Minions...

(Start At 2:53, End At 4:18)

(End At 1:37)

Returning To Asgard, Thor Meets Heimdall's Replacement, Skurge (Played By Leonard McCoy) Who Tells Him That Heimdall Has Been Declared An Enemy Of The People And Is On The Run. Upset By This News, Thor Goes To See His Father "Odin" Who Is Watching A Play About The Death Of Loki...

Which Has An All Star Cast Including, Luke, Brother Of Thor As Well, Thor, Dr. Alan Grant As Odin And Some Guy Jimmy Kimmel Never Has Time For As Loki...

Seeing Through "Odin's" Deception, Thor Forces Him To Reveal Himself For Who He Is And What A Shock, It's Loki. Taking Him To Earth, He Shows Thor Where He Sent Odin But Unfortunately The Retirement Home He Placed Him In Has Been Demolished...

Taking A Little Time To Talk With His Brother, We Learn As They Do Talk That Thor Broke Up With Jane, Saying That It Was A Mutual Breakup. However, Loki Is Sent Somewhere By Someone Who Leave A Card With An Address To The Sanctum Sanctorum...

Meeting Doctor Strange (Played By Smaug The Terrible) We Get A Version Of The Doctor Strange Mid Credits Scene That Involved Thor And It's Aftermath With Strange Discovering That Odin Is In Norway. Releasing Loki From Where He Sent Him, Strange Sends Thor And Loki To Norway...

Finding Odin, The 2 Brothers Discover That Odin Released Himself From Loki's Spell He Placed Upon Him But He Is Dying And His Time Is Limited As He Tells Them That Hela, The Goddess Of Death, Who Is The Sister They Never Knew Will Be Released From Her Prison When He Dies And That She Is More Powerful Than Both Of Them Combined...

So, Telling His Sons That He Loves Them One Last Time, Odin Dies, Transforming Into Pure Energy...

Angered At Loki For Causing Odin's Death, Any Thoughts Of Vengeance Are Set Aside For The Moment As Hela (Played By Cate Blanchett) Is Released From Her Prison But When The 2 Brothers Refuse To Bow To Her Hela Attacks Them Creating Spears To Fight Them...

Throwing Mijolnir At Her, Hela Just Grabs It And Shatters It As Loki Calls The Bifrost But During Their Return Trip, Hela Throws Both Loki And Thor Out Of The Bifrost. Making Her Way To Asgard, Hela Is Met By Volstagg And Fandral Who She Kills On Sight...

Well, It Makes Signing With The DCEU To Do Shazzam Easy, Right, Zachery Levi?...

Recruiting Skurge To Her Service, Hela Starts Her Takeover Of Asgard As We See That Thor Landed On A Planet Covered In Trash And Wormholes Called Sakaar, Where He's Confronted By Hostile Scavengers Which Thor Manages To Fight Off Till One Of Them Uses An Electrified Net On Him So They Can Beat Him To A Pulp..

But When A Spaceship Lands, A Drunk Woman (Played By Tessa Thompson) Says Thor Is Hers And Fires Her Ship's Guns At The Scavengers Obliterating Them...

Thanking This Woman, She Doesn't Reply And Just Places A Small Disc That Allows Her To Electrocute Thor And Render Him Unconscious At The Touch Of A Button Oh, It Also Prevents Him From Escaping...

Back On Asgard, Hela Faces Asgard's Armies, Led By Hogun Who Will Bow To Her Rule Even When She Tells Them About Odin's Death And That She Has Taken Care Of Thor And Loki, So She Kills Them All...

Wow, A Whole Army And They Couldn't Even Stop Her?!? Boy, Asgard Sucks!

Meanwhile On Sakaar, Thor Awakens To A Holographic Presentation (With Pure Imagination From Willy Wonka And The Chocolate Factory In The Background, Why?) About Sakaar And The Grandmaster (Played By Ian Malcolm)

Wait A Minute, Dr. Alan Grant And Ian Malcolm Are In The Same Movie And They Don't Have A Scene Together? I Want A Refund!

Anyway, The Grandmaster Is Not Only The Ruler Of Sakaar But Is The Host Of The Gladitorial Contest Of Champions. Buying Thor From The Drunk Woman, So He Can Pit Him Against His Champion In A Battle Saying That If He Wins He Will Earn His Freedom...

Still Restrained, Thor Discovers Loki In The Grandmaster's Company Who Tells Thor That He's Been There For Weeks Earning The Grandmaster's Favor And Is Fitting In Rather Nicely Apparently...

Thrown Into The Gladiator Quarters, We Meet The Funniest People In This Movie, Korg (Voiced By The Director Of This Movie, Taika Waititi) Who is A Kronan And His Friend A Bug Named Miek Who Has Scissors For Hands...

And I Absolutely Love Them!

Anyway, Despite Telling Thor That No One Has Beat The Grandmaster's Champion, Thor Gets Ready To Fight This Man....

Back On Asgard, Hela And Skurge Go To The Throne Room Where Hela Reveals By Destroying The Royal Mural, Another Mural Showing That She Used To Be Odin's Most Powerful Weapon In His Efforts To Create A Powerful Asgardian Empire, But When Her Ambition Outgrew Odin's He Imprisoned Her...

Going Down To Odin's Vault, She Declares Most Everything There To Be Fake, Before Looking At The Casket Of Ancient Winters, Surtur's Crown And The Tesseract Before Looking At The Eternal Flame Which She Uses To Revive The Fallen Soliders From Her Time And Her Pet, The Fenris Wolf To Help Her In Her Conquest...

As Thor Picks His Weapon To Fight The Grandmaster's Champion, He Runs Into The Drunk Woman That Sold Him To The Grandmaster Where He Realizes That She Is An Asgardian Valkyrie, But Unsympathetic To The Plight Of Asgard, Thor Calls Her A Coward Before Being Taken To Get His Hair Cut By Stan Lee...

Stan Lee Cameo!

Before The Fight...

Taken Out To The Stadium Afterwards, Thor Meets The Grandmaster's Champion, Who Happens To Be The Incredible Hulk To Loki's Displeasure And Bad Memories...

Overjoyed To See His Teammate, Thor Attempts To Negotiate With The Hulk But Makes A Mistake When He Accidentally Calls Him Banner...

Back On Asgard, Hela Sits On Her Throne and Talks With Skurge Stating That When Odin Was King She Was His Executioner And Now Skurge Is Hers...

Going To The Bifrost With Her Soldiers, Hela And Skurge Discover The Bifrost Sword Missing Which Means One Thing, Heimdall Has Returned And Has Taken It From Them, Stopping Hela From Conquering All The Realms For Now...

Attempting To Round Everyone Up To Discover Where Heimdall Is, Hela Sends Her Soliders Including The Woods But While Chasing Some People, Heimdall Arrives And Kills Hela's Undead Soliders Before Taking The People Back To His Hideout In The Mountains Where He Has Been Organizing A Resistance Against Hela...

Finding Himself In The Lap Of Luxury With A Naked Hulk...

Which Is Something I Never Wanted To See...

He Tells Thor That He Arrived In The Quinjet He Stole From Ultron In Age Of Ultron, And That He's Not Going Back To Earth As Here He Is Respected, Where On Earth...

Well, Let's Just Say The Bad Hulk Has Done On Earth Has Kind Of Outweighed The Good He's Done At This Point In The MCU...

Upset At This, Thor Tries To Leave But Gets Shocked By A Force Field On The Door Meant For Him. So, With Hulk Going To Train With Valkyrie, Thor Tries To Mentally Reach Heimdall Who Tells Thor Some Stuff I've Already Said, That He's Working On Evacuating People From Asgard And That They Don't Have Much Time...

Later That Evening, Thor Is Mad At The Hulk But It Eventually Leads To A Bonding Moment Between The 2 That Gets Hulk To Help Thor Talk To Valkyrie, To Try To Convince Her To Help Again And To Steal The Control Device So He Can Release The Disc On His Neck...

Breaking Through The Window, Thor Makes For The Quinjet (Which Is Still In Good Shape For What It Is) But The Hulk Starts Wrecking The Ship When He Doesn't Want Thor To Go...

Because If He Goes, It's Just Him And Valkyrie!

However, When Thor Comes Across An Old Video Of Black Widow Trying To Contact The Hulk From Age Of Ultron, Hulk Starts To Turn Back Into Banner Who's Been The Hulk Since Sokovia Which Leads Banner To Freak Out...

As The Hulk Had Completely Taken Over And He Has Absolutely No Memory Of The Past Few Years Which Has Him Start To Fear That If He Becomes The Hulk Again, Banner Won't Come Back...

Back In The Grandmaster's Chamber, He Gives Loki And Valkyrie Orders To Find Thor And The Hulk, But After Loki Shows Valkyrie A Vision Of Herself And Her Sisters Against Hela All Those Years Ago Which Ended With Only Her Surviving To The Point That She Drank To Try To Drown Her Misery, She Decides To Help Thor And Banner Escape...

Kidnapping Loki, He Tells Thor That His Favor With The Grandmaster Has Paid Off And That He Has All The Security Codes To The Grandmaster's System All They Need To Do Is Take Him With Them. However As Thor And Banner Decide To Take Loki Or Not Valkyrie Tries To Find A Way Back To Asgard But Thor Tells Her That The Only Way Back Is Through The Devil's Anus...

That Looks Absolutely Nothing Like Kathy Bates' Nude Scene From About Schmidt...

Only One Problem, Valkyrie's Ship Will Never Survive It Which Leads Them To Release Korg, Miek And The Other Prisoners From Their Cells...

But Despite Helping Thor Get To The Grandmaster's Luxury Ship, The Commodore Which He Only Uses For Orgies Apparently...

Aww, Man! Now I'm Going To Have That Image Of Jeff Goldblum At An Orgy In My Head For Hours, Thanks Thor Ragnarok!

Loki Betrays Thor, Sounding The Alarm As He Escapes But Knowing He Would Thor Placed The Same Disc That Valkyrie Placed On Him On Loki, Saying To Him That He Will Always Be The God Of Mischief But He Could Be More...

Going Through The Devil's Anus, They Arrive At Asgard Just As Hela Is About To Assault The Fortress Where Heimdall Is Hiding People From Asgard, But When Thor Calls Her Back To The Throne Room, Hela Faces Off Against Thor...

(Start At 1:22)

Realizing That The Destruction Of Asgard Was Inevitable, Thor Thanks Loki For Returning For Him And The 2 Brothers Reconcile, Before Taking The Captain's Chair And Assuming His Birthright As King Of Asgard With His Friends And Family By His Side As They Set A Course For Earth...

We Get A Mid Credits Scene Where Loki Wonders If He Will Be Welcome On Earth After Everything He Did In The First Avengers Movie But With Thor Telling Him That He'll Deal With Everything But Not Before Dealing With A Giant Spaceship That Will Ruin The Happy Ending That Came From This Movie...

We Also Get A End Credits Scene With The Grandmaster Confronted By The People Who Used To Be His Slaves As He Tries To Declare A Draw To No Success...

And That's Thor Ragnarok And It's The Best Thor Movie Ever!

The Story's Great, The Characters Are Great And Hillarious And I Like Hela As The Bad Guy But I Think They Shouldn't Have Had Skurge The Executioner In This Movie Without The Person He Actually Serves, The Enchantress (Yeah, I Know They Had A Character Called Enchantress In Suicide Squad But Marvel's Enchantress Is Alot More Sexier Than Her) But Aside From That Criticism I Defiantly Say, See It...

Till Next Time, This Is Duke, Signing Off..

[dxmedstudent]

I have been having some mental health issues lately, symptoms match with many anxiety and depression ones, i tried to bring it up w/GP although initial appointment was for a persistent chest infection.. Talking about mental health is a huge deal to me, I've never done it before as my family don't believe it's a big deal and I feel shy discussing it with friends. So naturally I stutter and stumble when I try to bring it up, the GP seems inpatient, so me feeling like a burden, downplay 1/2

downplay my symptoms because I feel uncomfortable discussing suicidal thoughts and whatnot with the doctor who seems as if he has better things to do. Ifeel ashamed with myself for not being able to speak properly to the doctors about something so serious. But it’s difficult to open up about something so sensitive when the gp doesn’t even have the patience to listen properly, not to  mention I was on the verge of tears from the onset of a breakdown at the time of the appointment.       

I’m really sorry to hear that, Nonny.    The way the GP system works isn’t ideal; they get 10 minute slots, and a lot of appointments throw up momre than 10 minutes’ worth of problems, so they/we often end up running late. If someone comes in about their mental health, it always runs late. At least, when I was working on my GP rotation. It’s a stressful, busy job. And that makes it potentially dangerous, because things can get missed. And because it’s a very fine skill to allow patients to open up, as fast as possible, whilst not making them feel the inherent time pressure you are on. It’s really easy to miss cues as a doctor if you aren’t paying attention or very finely tuned to pick up cues in patients; and if you are busy or stressed, you might not pay as much attention as you should to the subtle signs that tell you that the patient’s agenda is not your own. It sounds like your doctor was so focused on their own agenda that they didn’t pick up on your own, at all. And didn’t pick up on your body language and tone enough to adjust the conversation to make you feel comfortable enough to share things. I’m not sharing this to justify what happened, but to explain it from the doctor’s side. Any clinician you approach for help should take your symptoms and request for help seriously; all of us have to ask about suicidal symptoms during these kinds of conversation, but as you point out, it can be hard to be honest if the right tone isn’t set for conversations. That’s not your fault, and not your responsibility as the patient, so please don’t feel that you’ve done something wrong because you didn’t get everything off your chest in one consultation. It’s usually hard for us to share our innermost feelings, and somtimes it can take multiple sessions for people to truly open up to you as a doctor. It sounds like your doctor should have paid more attention to your words and body language, and adjusted the tone of the conversation to the topic. And most importantly, they should have properly paid attention to listen. Perhaps they were; I couldn’t possibly commentate since I wasn’t there. But it is clear that you don’t feel listened to. I’m sorry that’s the case. You sound like a sensible person, someone who has thought about the changes in your life, and the symptoms/problems you have been having, and identified that something isn’t right. Which is hard, when mental illness is involved. So well done you for recognising it. Not only that, but you took the brave and scary step of seeking help. Stuttering and stumbling is a normal response to being in an uncomfortable situation, and seeking help can be scary and intimate. You have nothing to be ashamed of; you were very brave, you sought help, and your journey is not over. Recognising that something is wrong, and that you could use some help were the first steps. Seeking help has been the second. But you haven’t yet had the support you need. That is not your fault at all. It is completely not your fault that the GP missed how you were feeling, and you ended up downplaying things. It’s also not the end of the road for seeking help. You did the right thing to go to the GP, and it sounds like you need to make another appointment. If you can bring yourself to tell them that the reason is “low mood” when you book it, that will also help to flag up that this is the main problem, and let them know to appropriately focus on that before they’ve even met you. That might make you introducing the topic this time around easier, because you and they both know it isn’t a surprise. I find that it’s easier to have that coversation the second time around. You’ve made progress, too, because you’re able to share how you feel with me. That’s pretty brave, too! I’m proud of you for having reflected on the consultation, how it went down, what could be done differently, and recognising that your needs weren’t met, and realiing you still needed to seek help. As doctors, we understand that people don’t always feel able to share the full story with us, so if you do seek help and it happens to be the same GP, they will not judge you if you went back and said ‘actually, I feel a bit worse than I said last time”. People do that all the time. So it’s not awkward if you go again. I highly suggest that it would be useful for you to make another appointment. Some people like to bring someone along for moral support (sometimes they come in, sometimes they wait in the waiting room), but if you feel that theres nobody you’d like to bring, then coming alone is perfectly OK. When I had to go to the GP about my own mental health during a recent bad patch, I also found it difficult, even though I knew that it shouldn’t be. I’d been the doctor on the other side of that conversation dozens of times. But still.  I didn’t want to waste too much time or make their other appointments late, and I found myself worried they would think I was doing better than I was. I found myself rehearsing the conversation in my head just to make sure I would say everything I needed to say, as fast as possible. These conversations can just be scary, and tricky, and it can take time for us to get it all off our chest. You’re not a ‘bad patient’ for not having had the conversation go as you hoped. And you can always go again and share what you need to share. Be as honest as you can at the time; it’s OK to mess up, or feel uncomfortable or not feel ready to share everything. But the more you can share with us, the better we can help. What I want to say is that the doctor is there to help and serve you, and you deserve help when you need it. If they haven’t done that the first time around, it means that another conversation is required to get you the support you need. I can see that it wasn’t easy the first time around, and that you didn’t get to feel comfrotable enough to really share how you feel. As doctors, we only know if we haven’t gotten to the bottom of a problem if patients come back and let us know. You’re making good progress, and I hope you can continue. Good luck, and I hope you have the conversation you need, soon.