#I’m thinking of starting her on gabapentin

[her-power]

So Called Chaos (Part Two: Modern single dad! e.m x fem reader)

❤️‍🩹🚨‼️18+ Minors DO NOT interact ‼️🚨❤️‍🩹

Trigger warnings/content warnings: Talk of suicide, talk of death, grief, hurt, comfort. Talk of PPD/PPA. Strong Language. Fluff. Lots of kissing, some petting, nothing explicit.

Summary: Full summary on Part One.

Word Count: 3.2k

(Reader POV)

You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, your hair dripping wet from your shower. You stare at the scar that sat below your left breast and wraps around to your back was slowly starting to fade, which made you happy, it was a constant reminder of that horrible night five years ago. You sigh, opening the bathroom mirror, taking out your morning pills. 80 mg of Prozac, 1000mg of gabapentin for nerve pain, Excedrin twice a day for migraines, 800mg ibuprofen for muscle pain. You didn’t even bother to go over the nighttime list; you were tired of taking pills, but it had become your daily routine for the last three years since you left the hospital. Moving back to your parents’ house was a decision you and your psychologist made together, but you were set on starting over, leaving the place where your entire life ended. Your mother’s death after the accident was the tipping point, you weren’t sure if you could handle anymore loss, and there was speculation that your mother took her own life. Your father was diagnosed with early onset dementia, you tried to visit him at least twice a week. He still had his sense of humor, but there were times he would ask you about her…about him, and you had to smile, tell him that they were okay, and change the subject.

Moving back to Indiana was a fresh start, and it almost felt like fate to you when you ran into Eddie Munson. The boy you grew to love in a short amount of time, the boy you thought about even when you said your ‘I dos’ to your late husband. Your stomach churns when you think about Sam, your sweet, kind, beautiful husband, he held on until the very end, talking to you while you were pinned beneath the dashboard, the air freezing, the sound of sirens swarming around you. You didn’t know at the time he was impaled in the stomach by a piece of metal, that once they removed him and the piece of metal, he would bleed out and die. He knew he was dying, but he made sure to keep you talking.  “Remember when we went to Aruba?”

“I can’t feel my legs…why is it so cold…”

“Keep talking to me, baby.”

“I can’t see you…where is Lily?”

“They got her out…”

“Sam…are we dying?”

“No…stay with me…”

“Do you think there’s waterfalls?”

You were delirious at that point, you were falling in and out of consciousness, your lungs were heavy, they rattled when you breathed in. 

You grip the sink in front of you, a panic attack settling in, you didn’t want to take your anti-anxiety, you need to do the deep breathing. You need this anxiety to go away before you saw Eddie, you weren’t ready to show him this side of you yet, you weren’t ready to tell him what happened to you, your husband, and your daughter. 

“We can keep her comfortable, but there is no brain activity…”

“I don’t understand…she was fine…” You whisper, the pain in your bones becoming unbearable, you felt your heart turning to stone. 

“You have been the reason why she has been hanging on for these last six months, I know you probably don’t believe it, but she can hear you. It’s your choice what you want to do next.” 

You inhale a sharp breath. “Let her be hooked up to machines or let her die? How does a mother make that decision?”

Tears fill your eyes, and you wheel yourself over to your three-year-old daughters' bedside. You take her little hand in yours. “I’m so sorry, baby girl.” You cry, kissing her palm and stroking her blonde curls. “You’re our little fighter. Daddy is waiting for you, okay? Don’t be afraid. I’ll find you.” 

You sit on the floor of your bathroom, hyperventilating and you groan, holding your stomach. You let out a loud wail, full of anger and sadness. Your family never got justice; the drunk driver was released after only being in prison for a year. And you couldn’t bear the thought of staying in the same town where he resided. 

You lean your head back, breathing in slowly through your nose and out your mouth. Deep breaths, baby. They’re coming I promise. Your heart rate slows, and your tremors disappear. 

After giving yourself a few moments to calm down more, you step into your bedroom and get dressed. You toss an oversize knitted sweater over your head, black leggings, and your doc martens. You toss your hair up into a messy bun, dab your face in subtle make up and lip balm. You stretch your back, feeling your spine pop back into place and you grab your car keys. 

You had texted him that you were on the way to the café, and he had asked you for your coffee order. When you pull into the lot, you are amazed at how quaint this place was. It must’ve been new; it was on the same strip of road where Miss Byer’s store was. 

You spot Eddie’s hair as soon as you walk in, he’s making silly faces at Hunter who is sitting in his highchair, eating a cake pop. Eddie meets your eyes, and he smiles, standing up as you walk over to him. He hugs you tightly, and you look down at Hunter who gives you a large toothy grin.

“Oh hello, handsome, you look just like your Daddy.” You smile, gently tickling his cheek and he giggles. You sit down across from Eddie who hands you your coffee and Hunter goes back to eating his cake pop, while watching a toddler educational video on Eddie’s phone. Eddie leans his chin on his palm as he stares at you and you blush, sipping your coffee. 

“You’re staring.” You giggle, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” He laughs, leaning back in his seat. “It’s just wild that after all this time…”

“Yeah.” You smile, looking into his eyes. The same ones you fell in love with all those years ago; the eyes that held a story, even now. 

“What have you been doing all these years?” He asks you, and you should’ve known that would’ve been a question he’d ask you. You swallow a lump in your throat, your leg bopping under the table. 

“I graduated from college with a degree in English and teaching. I was an English teacher in the town I was living in for about ten years. Met my…husband at the school I was teaching at.” You smile at him, and he smiles sweetly at you. 

“Where’s your husband now?” He asks. 

Just tell him this part. Just tell him the first part of your tragic story. The rest will come later. 

“He…he died, about five years ago.” Your eyes are welling up, but you don’t bother to push them back. 

Eddie’s breath hitches and he lets out a huff. “Jesus, I’m so sorry.” He reaches over to grasp your hand and you take it willingly. You meet his eyes; they were sad for you. 

“I’m okay.” You tell him with a grin. “I promise. I’m okay.”

You feel a damp, sticky hand pat the top of your hand and you look to see Hunter’s hand on top of yours, smiling at you. Your heart does a back flip as his blue eyes stare into yours, you take his little 

“He likes you.” Eddie says with a chuckle. “He’s a lady’s man.” 

“Sounds like someone I know.” You glance over at him, and he almost chokes on his drink. 

“I barely had any ladies.” He laughs. “A lot of them just used me because I was in a band.” 

You grin, Hunter grips onto your finger and you feel a certain love creep up on you that you have missed for so long. You make a silly face at Hunter who giggles, and then yawns. Eddie smiles, “He got up way too early this morning.” He brushes his curls from his little head. “He’s probably ready for a nap.” 

You stare at Eddie, wondering if you should say what you’re about to say. “I’m sorry about Olivia.” You say gently. “I didn’t hear much about it, just that she passed, but…I’m really sorry.” You had known Olivia as an acquaintance, seeing her at parties when you were younger, or when you would sneak into the Hideout, from what you remember she was really nice.

Eddie stares at you and swallows hard, nodding his thanks. “I didn’t know you kept up with the trials and tribulations of Eddie Munson.” He jokes.

“Social media has it’s perks.” You laugh. “Robin posts a lot of pictures of this little guy.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes and laughs. “Yeah, she’s obsessed with him. She keeps telling Vicky she wants a baby.” 

“That’s amazing.” You smile. “She should do it.” 

Hunter makes a little squeal and giggles; you take that as a cue that he was getting tired, and it was time to go. Eddie stands up, pulling him out of the highchair and you all walk out of the café. A sudden pain jolts down your leg, causing you to lose your balance but you catch yourself.

“Whoa, are you okay?” Eddie asks, gripping your forearm while Hunter rests his head on his chest. 

You try to laugh it off, but the pain was getting worse. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just some muscle spasms. The luxuries of getting older.” 

Eddie could tell you were in more pain than you were letting on, and you knew you couldn’t drive. You clench your teeth, the pain radiating to your other leg as you lean awkwardly against the wall of the café. You wanted to scream at your body, for taking this moment and ruining it because of your shit damaged nerves and muscles. 

“Sweetheart…you’re shaking.” He tells you gently. “Why don’t I drive you back to my place? I don’t know if I feel alright with you driving home like this. You can sit, relax, put your feet up and we can come back for your car later.”

“Eddie, I’m fine.” You sigh. 

“You’re so not convincing.” He laughs and you stifle a giggle. He switches Hunter to the other side of his hip and gently takes his other arm and reaches out to you. “Come on, can you walk?” 

“I can manage.” You say softly, and his arm wraps around your waist as he easily lifts you from the wall and you slowly walk together towards his truck. You lean against the passenger side door while he buckles Hunter in his car seat. You rummage through your purse to find your gabapentin, and quickly take the tablet, dry swallowing it. The medication would take affect soon, so you had to suffer with the pulsating pain for the next few moments, but you’d been through worse. Eddie shuts the door to the backseat and walks over to you, you smile at him, still gritting your teeth. 

“You’re gonna tell me what this is when we’re back at my house, right?” He says, gently running his thumb over your cheek and you tremble. 

“I’m fine, Eddie.” You whisper and he dips his head down to look into your eyes, giving you a sly smirk and you laugh. “It’s nothing serious. I’m just old.”

“Liar.” He smirks, opening the door for you and he slowly helps you step up into the truck. You roll your eyes, and he winks at you, shutting the door and you sigh. 

“Da…Da…Da…Da…hee…hee…” Hunter says behind you, and you laugh.

“Yeah, your dad thinks he’s funny.” 

“Fun…ee…” Eddie is stepping into the driver’s side and whips his head to look at Hunter. 

“Did he just say funny?” Eddie looks at you, pure pride and excitement on his face. “He just said funny! Good job, buddy!” 

You smile at his boyish face, and Hunter continues to say funny over and over again on the drive back to the house. Eddie is laughing, but also feeling extremely overstimulated with the repetition of the word. “He’s gonna keep saying it, isn’t he?”

You laugh. “Yup. Welcome to parenthood.” 

By the time Eddie had pulled into his garage, Hunter was sound asleep. The medication you took was easing the pain, you were able to gently lower yourself out of his truck and follow him and a sleeping Hunter into the house. His drum set, guitar and musical equipment catches your eye as you walk up to two steps into the house and you smile, glad that he still kept his music talents going after all these years. 

He quietly shuts the door to the garage, and you stand awkwardly in the kitchen. You feel his hand on your lower back. “Go sit down, I’ll be down in a minute.” He whispers and you nod, carefully making your way towards the couch. You flinch as you sit down, you stretch out your legs, wincing as another shooting pain radiates down your leg. You try to focus on something else besides the pain and look at the framed photographs on the wall. There was a nice one of Eddie and Hunter what looks like to be his first birthday and Hunter is holding a toy guitar. You see one of Olivia holding Hunter when he was just born, you had forgotten how pretty she was, and you could see where Hunter got his eyes from. There was a framed autograph picture and gold record of Master of Puppets. That makes you smile, and seeing all the Lord of the Rings merchandise that graced his walls. The pain subsides and you perch your feet up on the ottoman, staring up at the ceiling when you hear Eddie come walking down the hallway. He places the video monitor on the coffee table next to him, sitting down across from you. 

“How long have you been in pain like this?” 

You smirk, he gets right to it. 

“Five years.” You whisper, pulling your left leg under you and stretching out your other leg. 

His eyes widen. “Five years? What happened?”

You sigh. “Eddie, it was a long time ago. I just got some nerve damage and crappy muscles in my legs. It’s just something I have to live with.” 

“What happened?” He asks you again and you sigh, pulling your hair out of your bun and letting it fall, rubbing your scalp to soothe the tightness. 

“Car accident. We were hit by a drunk driver.” You whisper. 

Eddie is quiet. “Is that how your husband died?” 

You nod, stretching out your leg again, you wanted to leave out what happened to Lily for as long as you could. “That is how my husband kicked the bucket.” You lean forward to massage your calf and chuckle. “Sorry, my trauma response is dark humor.” 

Eddie stares at you, pointing to your shoes. “May I?” You stare at him and then your shoes. 

“What do you want with my shoes?” 

He laughs. “I don’t want your shoes, dummy. Take them off.” 

You stare at him and lean forward, untying your boots and kicking them off your feet. You stretch your toes and Eddie takes your foot, resting it against his knee. 

“Where does it hurt the most?” He asks you, gently massaging the top of your foot. 

“Eddie, you don’t have to do this.” You say, blushing at the softness of his fingers as they glide over the exposed skin of your ankle. 

“You’re in pain, and I’m not a fan of people I care about being in pain.” He smiles at you. “Where does it hurt?” 

You sigh, pointing to your middle calf area. “Here.” 

He gently rubs his palm against your calf, and you groan, he stops and meets your eyes. “Are you okay?”

“It’s just…” You sigh, adjusting your position. “Why are you doing this?” 

Eddie isn’t sure how to answer that, he isn’t sure why he’s doing it. He just knows he wants to; he wants to make you feel better. His hands continue to massage your calf, and he gently lifts your pant leg. The first thing he sees is the end of a stem of a tattoo, covering a large scar. The tattoo is three red roses, wrapped around a thin sword. Eddie glances up at you and sees that your eyes are filling with tears, and you have to look away from him. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” Eddie leans towards you, cupping your cheek and you shake your head, tears spilling over your cheeks. You inhale, gasping as a sob escapes your lungs and he moves next to you on the couch, pulling you to him. He holds the back of your head and cradles you to his chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“You…you didn’t…” You gasp and you have to pull back from him. “Eddie…I’m not…I’m not the girl you remember…there’s things that happened that completely changed the person I was.”

Eddie stares at your face. “I’m not the same boy you remember.”

You meet his eyes. “This was a mistake, coming here. Seeing you…there’s so many things that are coming back and so many feelings that I can’t even process right now. I can’t let you see this side of me, you’ve already seen too much.” 

He whispers your name, reaching up to hold your face and you try to flinch away, but his hands are soft, and he instantly relaxes you. “What I see is a woman who is trying her damn best to keep her head above water, who experienced too much loss. What I see is a beautiful, strong, resilient woman who I can’t believe walked back into my life.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head. “Eddie…”

“If you want to leave, you can leave, but I’m telling you right now…there’s a reason we met at the bookstore. There’s a reason you’re here right now…after all this time.” His face is so close to yours and you can’t help but stare directly into his eyes. 

“I can’t bring you into this…with everything you have going on.” 

Tell him what happened to Lily, baby.

No. No. I can’t. I can’t. It’s too damaging. I don’t even like saying it.

The two of you can help each other. 

No, no, Sam, please. I can’t. It’s not fair to him.

I think he loves you.

I loved you! And you died. 

Tell him, baby. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head, tears continuing to spill on your cheeks. This was too much; all of this was too much. 

You take his hands away from your face, pressing your forehead against his. You couldn’t tell him.

Not yet.

You couldn’t tell him about your baby girl.

Your forever three-year-old.

Not yet.

Not yet. 

So instead, you kiss him. 

(Taglist - thank you for all your support my beauties, it means the world - @mysticpeachobject @kellsck @eddiesguitarskills @fearless-wretch-insanity @darknesseddiem @amberolivia666

[sevasey51]

An endo flare leaves Connor’s wife incapicated. Bleeding isn’t bad but the pain is horrendous. The only was she can describe is what she imagines contractions feel like. Connor resorts to morphine.

Waves of Fire

Summary: She’s had bad flares before. But this one is different. It hits hard and deep, like her pelvis is clenching in waves, like something inside her is burning from the inside out. The bleeding is light—but the pain? Unrelenting. After every other med fails, every position becomes agony, and every breath comes with a grimace, Connor does what he never wants to do: he gives her morphine. Because she doesn’t need a doctor. She needs her husband. And she needs relief—now.

It started as a whisper of pain—low, dull, familiar. The kind of discomfort she could usually handle with ibuprofen, heat, and distraction.

But within an hour, it evolved.

And by the time Connor came home from his meeting, the pain had taken over.

She was on her side in bed, curled into the pregnancy pillow he insisted they keep around just in case, arms wrapped around her middle like she could physically hold the pain in place. Her face was pale and damp, her breaths shallow, and every so often her body would flinch like it was trying to escape itself.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Connor said softly, rushing to her side. “Talk to me.”

“It’s bad,” she whispered. “It’s so bad, Con.”

“Where?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Everywhere. Low back. Pelvis. My legs. It feels like—like waves. Like I’m being wrung out from the inside. I can’t—” She clenched her jaw as another wave hit, her whole body curling tighter. “I can’t think. It’s like… what I imagine contractions feel like. But sharp. And constant.”

Connor’s chest tightened. He’d seen her endure a lot. But this?

This was different.

He gently checked her pulse—elevated. Her skin was clammy. Her hands trembled when he touched them.

“Bleeding?” he asked, already reaching for the supplies on her nightstand.

“Not much,” she rasped. “Hardly anything. But the pain won’t stop. It’s not coming with the bleeding. It’s just stuck in me.”

Connor had already tried everything he could:

• Tylenol and high-dose Naproxen.

• Gabapentin and TENS unit.

• Heat packs layered one after another.

• Tucked knees, rotated hips, pressure on her sacrum.

Nothing touched it.

Nothing even dulled it.

She was barely holding on now, tears leaking silently down her cheeks from the effort of staying still.

That’s when he made the call.

He pulled out the locked med kit from under the bed—emergency use only. For flares that left her incapacitated. And this?

This was exactly that.

She barely noticed as he drew up the morphine into a small syringe—just 2 mg, enough to dull the edge without knocking her unconscious. He cleaned the port site with steady hands, murmuring reassurances she likely wouldn’t remember.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I’m giving you a little something. It’s going to burn for a second.”

She flinched at the poke, then let out a weak whimper as the medication hit her bloodstream.

Connor climbed into bed beside her, wrapping himself around her like armor.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered against her temple. “You’re not alone in this.”

It took nearly 15 minutes for the medication to work its way through, but he felt the shift when her body finally exhaled. Her shoulders dropped. Her breathing evened. The tremors stopped.

She didn’t speak. Just turned her face into his neck and let out a soft, exhausted sound—half sigh, half sob.

Connor kissed her hair, running his palm along her back in slow, steady circles.

“I know you hate needing it,” he murmured. “But I’d rather give you something strong than watch you break apart.”

She was still too tired to reply. But she nodded—barely.

And he felt it in his chest like relief and grief wrapped into one.

That night, he stayed awake as she slept, arm tucked protectively around her waist, eyes fixed on the slow rise and fall of her chest.

And when Ava texted back, asking, “Do we need to escalate her pain plan again?”—he replied:

“Not yet. But we’re running out of room.”

“Keep a slot open for consult tomorrow.”

Because flares like that didn’t just leave bruises on her body.

They left scars on his heart, too.

[jenthebug]

Guess who was so rude to the vet that she’s not coming back without drugs on board!

Hiding, snarling, growling, yelling…

At least she didn’t bite. At least she used her words. I’m glad we have gabapentin (and trazodone! two drugs for overachieving dog!) for the next visit.

The whole vet visit took forever. First, a sick patient turned out to have a Huge Fucking Emergency, so the vet I was seeing assisted on that patient. This is not a problem, emergencies go before non-emergencies. It just took forever.

Then, it took a while for the vet to lure Momo out. (She used Churu.) Then she tried to touch Momo, and all hell broke loose. Then we had to wait for the prescription.

The plan is to do the exam and nail trim next time, when she’s all high. The vet wants to do x rays, too, but that would turn a $200 visit into an $800 visit to confirm or rule out arthritis that can be checked for with a physical exam.

Anyway, Momo wasn’t always like this, but her last two vet visits were for emergencies (not pleasant) so I think she’s really starting to associate the vet with pain and suffering. The drugs will be a good thing.

[hihigherdi]

Things took a big turn for the better. When I got home Wednesday night, I sat in my car, dreading coming up to my house. That night, Bud and Minnie slept with me on my bed really close, and I woke up oddly grieving it being just the three of us. I talked out loud to them both and said this needs to change, I can’t have this stress anymore it isn’t good for any of us. So you need to start being more accepting of this, because it’s happening. We are doing a good thing and it’s important we keep trying. Likely saying that all out loud was important for me because I just shifted into a new resolve. And since then? It’s been softer. Peach is much softer, she learning how not to jump on the big girls. And Minnie is just…softer. Still growly but walked into her room a bit. Bud is better too. Now I’m just laying in my bed trying to relax, and I kind of don’t care where any of them are. They all have vet appointments later at 4pm and I’ll have to give the big girls gabapentin for that. I’ve shopped and packed for Kim’s birthday weekend, I made a playlist of all her favorite songs for a dance party - I’ll need to cook a breakfast casserole tomorrow morning and leave by 6:30 to grt there by 8am. I have a Housesitter coming to feed the cats who I need to leave a bunch of notes for. I have one work meeting but that’s about it. I’m very much looking forward to being away with women I love, who love me, having fun and not thinking about animals. P

My intuitive coach has changed my life. I’m a different person, and looking back I know I’ll be so proud of and thankful for this growth.

[eponymous-rose]

All of the pet urgent care facilities are either closed or at capacity today, so it’s time to yell my Cat Anxieties into the void until they open tomorrow. Advice greatly appreciated.

Cut for gross cat stuff (tw: emetophobia).

So Clara vomits pretty rarely - maybe once every two months, if she has a hairball or eats too fast - and she does hiccup once or twice a few days a week (the vets have seen videos of this and have proclaimed it normal, just one of her little idiosyncracies). This Tuesday, she freaked me out by throwing up four times in rapid succession, but she managed to hork up a giant hairball (bigger than any before) and seemed 100% afterwards, so I wasn’t too concerned. Then yesterday (Friday) she regurgitated her food - again, she’d been running around right after eating, not too unusual, but alarm bells are starting to ring.

She just threw up again today (and again, it’s regurgitated whole kibble pieces), so I’m officially worried and calling around to see who can take a look at her.

I will say that her behavior is mostly normal (a little extra-agitated, with some longer-lasting zoomies than usual, but she’s also a Very Energetic Cat who gets worked up when it rains, and she just got some new toys to play with, so it’s hard to say). Immediately after regurgitating the food, she came running up to me trilling and ready to play. Clear eyes, pink gums, hanging out in all her usual haunts, all that good stuff. Eating normally, including her lickable treat, and her diet hasn’t changed in over a year, so it’s not an adjustment to a new brand or anything. Drinking normally as well, from bowls cleaned daily. Litter box? Totally normal in number, type, and consistency. She’s an otherwise healthy almost-three-year-old cat who’s up to date on her shots and yearly checkups.

All of that makes me think we’re more on the “food allergy/sensitivity” side of the spectrum, well away from something more urgent like “bowel obstruction”. I am mostly Concerned with a capital “C” because she loooooves chewing on things. All strings, feathers, etc. are locked away from her because she will swallow them. I wonder if she may have something that’s not an urgent issue that’s just been sitting in her gut for long enough that it’s occasionally a problem. (The other Concerned aspect is, of course, that I had the very bad luck in 2020 of adopting a terminally ill 7-month-old kitten and now I am paranoid about every bad turn Clara has in case it’s a repeat of her brother’s scenario.)

I think she should be fine until tomorrow morning - honestly, she’s probably fine until Monday, but I don’t want to take chances. I’ve even got a gabapentin left over from her last vet appointment, so she should be nice and calm and much less stressed than a vet appointment would usually cause her to be. But any advice or anecdotes are greatly appreciated!

[perplexingluciddreams]

Had another appointment today with the doctors over video. It went well, I feel like things are finally starting to happen.

They were also really great about asking the right questions without taking too long in the appointment. I do have very bad fatigue and symptoms (PEM - post exertional malaise) always after appointments, but in order to get the support I need, it is necessary.

The things we (my dad and I- my dad did the talking for me today instead of my mum) discussed with the doctors were:

Loss of speech and fine motor control, is it autistic catatonia? They said they would speak to a psychiatrist about it and see if I can get an appointment with her to discuss further. Also the “freezing” or “getting stuck” and I’ve had some motor tics recently which may all be connected.

We talked about the new medication (gabapentin) and we’re still upping the dose slowly, I’ve not had any negative side-effects at all so that’s really positive (especially with my history of how I react to medication).

My partially dislocated thumb joint, and how painful it is.

Overall pain levels and worsening health, weakness, pain, etc.

Hypermobility and how it can cause stiffness and muscle pain- when stabilising muscles are weak, active/movement muscles may reflexively be triggered to contract. I believe some (not all) of my muscle pain is due to this. Especially with my level of inactivity due to being mostly bedbound.

But I also asked about getting more “structured support”, for example postural support for sitting, braces for walking - my ankle and knee joints have been incredibly unstable for a long time and I’ve been saying for ages that leg braces (like AFOs or something similar) would help me so much. They took that into account and made a note of it.

We also bought some aids for around the house to help me move around more safely. So far we have two suction handles for the bath, and we have ordered a pressure cushion (for less pressure and pain when spending long periods sat - propped up - in bed without moving), a frame with handles for around the toilet, and we’re trying to find a suitable bed-rail-support-handle-thingy to help me safely get in and out of bed without sliding onto the floor or hurting myself.

The amazing doctors (well, doctor and nurse- from psychology/psychiatry- they’re basically being a liaison for us with every part of my care team) said they’d been in touch with my main doctor (rheumatologist) who has spoken to an occupational therapist who should call us very soon to work out more aids and supports for around the house especially.

Dysphoria and how it’s very difficult never knowing if my health is going to be good enough to transition.

Overall I’m very happy with the result of this appointment. Things seem like they’re actually getting going, finally! Of course not everything is ideal, especially with the inaccessible house and my desperate need for a powerchair that I’m going to have to wait a long time for (and my still rapidly worsening health), but I’m feeling much more hopeful knowing that small things are going to happen that will make a slight difference to my quality of life.

((I also used my AAC device in the appointment and I am proud of myself because I think I communicated very well)) :D

[billgavemeextrachips]

My housemate wants me to sweep downstairs and vacuum the common areas at least twice a week because of my cat’s dander. This is triggering a lot of shame about me being a “slob” and also worry that I won’t physically be able to keep up a routine like this because of my Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. But I can’t say no because I need a good reference when I start looking for a new place to live next month, and also I just… Can’t Say No. It’s kind of one of my issues.

 My cat (11 next month) is now on gabapentin for her arthritis pain. I can tell it’s helping her, but the only affordable option is a liquid that I have to squirt in her mouth twice a day while pinning her against me and she hates it. She tries to hide when it’s med time and cries when I pick her up anyway. So that’s a thing I have to deal with.

 Last night I actually did some Google searches about rehoming a cat and I burst into tears. (Disgusting, I know.) Money isn’t too much of an issue yet, and her “behavior problems” are mostly my housemate being an asshole. (Cat is not aggressive, doesn’t pee outside of box, she’s just struggling with grooming now that she’s older.) So I don’t think I’ll have to do it, but even just thinking about giving her up wrecks me.

 My right shoulder keeps trying to climb up to my ear due to tight muscles (painful) and I keep getting a fluttering feeling in the left side of my chest (not painful but scary.) I think these are both stress-related but don’t know how to make them stop.

 I’m supposed to help my family with Dad’s move-out this Saturday. I don’t know how useful I’ll be, being a Physical Wreck™ and all. Nor do I know what I’m walking into emotionally. Mom and Dad have been civil so far (that I’ve seen) but my brother’s birthday dinner was awkward AF and left me feeling very sad for everything we’ve lost.

 I can’t talk to my ex-therapist because she’s bought into (literally paid hundreds of dollars for some scam-ass program) a bunch of life coaching mumbo-jumbo and now I can’t be messy™ with her for even two minutes before she’ll try to make me “look for the positives” and “remember my strengths” and “create a plan” and shit.

 I can’t talk to my best friend because she has the empathy of a rock, and also she just started a new job with an insane commute so if I do call her, I’ll have to listen patiently to her rant about that for half an hour before she even asks me, “So how are things?”

 I can’t confide how I’m feeling about my parents’ divorce to either of my parents (obviously) or to my brother, because Dad straight up emotionally abused him and the last thing he needs is dad’s golden child whining to him because she feels sad.

 I can maybe talk to my kid sister or my grandmother about how I’m feeling about the family stuff, but I’ll have to tread lightly. I can’t talk to either of them about the housemate stuff because 1) my sister has no life experience here, and 2) my grandmother is a clean freak who doesn’t like cats so she’d be the opposite of helpful.

 Meanwhile my self-esteem is in the shitter because I keep ruminating on my family’s fucked-uppedness, and where’s the line between being kind versus enabling the assholes in my life, and who would ever love me, etc., etc., etc.

 And to top it all off, an employee I’ve been hounding for overdue paperwork for months just pulled a stunt that I can only describe as “malicious compliance.” I passed it on to my boss via email and told her I actually wanted to cry. (Again, ew gross, I know.)

 I must be ready for my full cyber-conversion because I’m sick of having feelings about anything.

[xgh0ulx]

A conversation (summed up) with my therapist today, who I appreciate very much.

“I got prescribed gabapentin for my 2 week long migraine, 3x the amount I was given for surgery and she wants to titrate up, that’s the starting dose”

Her eyes widen

“Did it help?”

I sigh

“Not really. Back when I had surgery it helped my headache but I had only headaches back then. Nothing compared to what I get now. I’m scared to tell the doctor it didn’t work. I’m scared she’ll think I just don’t want to get better”

You see something in her head clicked into place when I said that. She knew exactly what to say.

“Every single patient of mine with chronic illness has that fear. The fear of being seen as not wanting to get better.”

I want to post this to let other people with chronic illness have that moment that I had, of “oh shit! I’m not alone” because it can feel like no one has your back when you’re in a world that wasn’t built for you.

[queen-beefcake-sqx]

I feel like death and I have no clue how to fix it. I can’t up my gabapentin because I have none of my meds here because I changed bags. I’ve already almost thrown up twice because I’m crying and my throat keeps closing up. Typing is getting me to refocus so it’s kind of calming me down, but god my brain picked the worst week to go into a dip.

And if I stop to think too long I start crying again. This sucks! I’m hiding in my room because I’m so scared of my coworkers seeing me. I just want to go back to bed. I just want to go to sleep.

Half tempted to email my therapist and beg her for a lunchtime call. Ugh ugh. Today is awful. This is awful.

[ask-a-vetblr]

Hello! Is there a way for me to convincingly stress to vets that as much as possible needs to be done in the room with us?

My cat is just. Very attached to my roommate, my partner, and me, and she has violent tendencies.

When we’ve brought her to the vet before she’s been fine in the exam room with us, nervous but exploring and getting in and out of her carrier, but as soon as they bring her back to do anything out of the room she starts YELLING and attacking.

She had some teeth removed a few years ago and was so violent coming out of sedation that they couldn’t even get the cone on her, I had to do it when we got home. (The nurse said she “knows a lot of naughty words”).

She’s a rescue with overstimulation issues who was returned and abandoned multiple times, and has formed a bond with us, and has calmed down a lot at home, but in vet settings is really stressed, clipping her neck and medication (she’s been given a mild sedative for us to give her before the appointment, I think gabapentin?) don’t seem to help significantly.

Obviously I won’t be getting her an appointment until covid cases have gone down enough that I’m able to be in exam room, just wondering if there’s anything I can do to reduce the stress of this for her :(

Sueanoi here,

You tell your vet the same way you tell us; “my cat is known to become extremely aggressive and cannot be restrained without my presence”. Your firm statement will initiate a serious conversation of what they could offer to do. They will have to come up with a solution for your situation themselves. I cannot know what their response would be. You have to negotiate the rest of the conversation yourself.

gettingvetted here.

You may consider reading this post on my home blog. In general, at least in the US, there isn’t really a situation where the vet staff needs or wants help from the pet owner to handle their animal.

[emeraldlyaqua]

I desperately need advice about my very old, dementia dog, please!

I have a 16 year old husky mix. She has always had anxiety. But a few months ago, her anxiety started getting worse and worse. She would start panting, pacing, swinging her head back and forth, scratching on every door or surface she could find. And when I say scratching, I mean jumping up on two legs and pounding the door with all her might, almost breaking some of them. She is half blind, and at first we thought it was anxiety from going blind. I work at a vet clinic as a treatment tech, so I brought her in, did a full physical exam, blood work, urinalysis, and everything came back perfect. My theory is that she may have dementia.

We put her on Gabapentin. It worked for a few days, and then stopped working and she was back to having complete panic attacks. We then put her on trazodone, which also worked for a few days then stopped. We upped her dose at least three times and it didn’t work. Before, she would have an attack, not be able to find any peace all night until morning or sometimes later, then have a few good days. But as the days went by, the attacks happened more and more frequently. Right now, its to the point where none of us are sleeping, and she is constantly in a state of panic unless she is completely drugged, and even then she fights it. She is now sometimes up, pacing, scratching, panting, shaking like a leaf, for over a day straight. Even when she finally manages to rest, she is trembling like crazy in her sleep.

She will pace around, almost get comfortable, and then suddenly she jerks around like a bomb went off in her ear even though there is no sounds and nothing going on, and she’ll run around and scratch and pant in mindless panic. This happens in a cycle; panic, start to relax, jerk up suddenly and panic again. She gets so desperate in her panic she tries to fit into corners and knock everything over in her attempts. We’ve tried noise machines, soft music, singing, sitting with her, petting her, meds, nothing works. Its like she’s not even herself anymore. And all the diagnostics we did came back normal. I’ve even had two vets look at her.

She used to have moments where she would be playful and normal like herself again, but as of three days ago, its been constant panic. I’m desperate for advice on what to do. In the back of my mind I don’t think this is much of a life for her. Constant panic. But it sucks trying to make a decision to euthanize when she is not physically sick. But even though she isn’t suffering physically, she is suffering so bad mentally. I guess my question is, what is the right thing to do here? I need help or maybe just affirmation. If anyone could give me their two cents, I would very, very much appreciate it.

[bishiglomper]

I saw kidney doc today. Just because I had a kidney infection and my primary learned about my wonky kidneys. I think she was like "I don't know what to do with these so go have a nephrologist check you out." 😂

He said my kidney function had only just barely started to show abnormal results. But since i have a hard working kidney, he says it's gonna poop out eventually. 😳 so to be safe, i guess, we'll do things. First is going off naproxen because its hard on kidneys.

But but

Besides the muscle relaxants thats the only other thing I take to help control my every day pain! 😭 I've done gabapentin and meloxicam and lyrica... I don't think Tylenol is any safer on my organs. Or ibuprofen. Mom told me to ask about diclofenac but it tore up her stomach, so I dont think that would be an organ-friendly option either...

I'm probably going to end up asking my pain clinic doc but i dont know what options i have left because im sure he's going to do his best to keep me away from actual narcotics. I wonder how he feels about cannabis.

I wouldnt want edibles either though. For the same reason i didnt want to resort to muscle relaxants. I hear they knock you tf out. Even small doses. I want more energy and consciousness to do stuff, not more reasons to sit here like wilting vegetation.

[fbwzoo]

Phoebe got her intro visit/ wellness check today! She looks great, though they couldn't do a toe check & nail trim bc she was upset. So we're gonna take her in with Shilo in a couple weeks after she gets some gabapentin to be calmer. We're not overly concerned, she just has weirdly big toes, we think, and we're curious what the vet thinks.

Also she's 9.8 pounds, and they said that was a healthy weight for her, so that's reassuring! She feels like a bowling ball when we pick her up because she looks smaller than that. 😂 Shilo will help keep her active and exercised. And I think I'm going to start doing wet food breakfasts for them on my days off, since they like it and wet food is generally lower calorie.

[destroyhorse]

does anyone here take gabapentin bc

my doc prescribed them for me when i took my leave from work bc my panic attacks were getting so bad. but theyre “1-3 pills every 8 hrs as needed” and said to take them when i feel a panic attack coming on. but like. i havent really been taking them bc i havent been so debilitatingly anxious. like maybe a few times, only one dose every few weeks bc i thot they were supposed to work like As Needed and ive been able to come down from panic attacks but. maybe thats placebo? maybe bc the shit i was anxious about i could unplug from for a minute?

anyway i have to go back to work bc she wouldnt extend my leave or like.. listen to me when i told her/the nurse “im not irrationally afraid of my job, i have a very tangible worry about being in a job where i handle items secondhand (especially now that we’re accepting donations again lol 🖕) AND i’m on the bus for 1.5 hrs with people sitting on all sides of me and physically no way to distance myself.”

so bc of that im like “ok i guess i might try to start taking this bc i cannot function at my job like this” since ive been having gut wrenching anxiety for the last week thinking about going back in

but every single thing i see is like. this isnt supposed to be an “as needed” dosage and also can be really addictive?? like i can’t just take it as i’m having a panic attack and expect to be calmed down which is like. lol ok. i mean first off i didnt even ask her for medication, i did not WANT medication bc i otherwise have a handle on my anxiety. i asked her to confirm to my work that i cannot function under these conditions.

whcih she did for my initial leave but shes being like, completely dismissive of me now. (and yes she is in fact working from home she is only taking video/phone appointments rn 🤪) also the nurse said she asked if i like, visited work/at least drove there to reacclimate myself and im like. motherfucking— no?? what part of “the length of the bus trip is a major factor in why i am afraid to go to work” and “do not take unnecessary travel” does she not GET lol like. she knows i dont drive either??

anyway. ok my big thing is like, did she prescribe gabapentin to me incorrectly or am i misinterpreting this? also i dont know if i am just. blowing her dismissal/everything out of proportion or what.

[rexandbalances]

Health Issues

My birthday was 5 months ago. The following week I heard a snap in my neck and everything has been falling apart since then. I went to my chiropractor. He started working on me and suddenly stopped. “This isn’t skeletal. This is in your nervous system. You need to see your doctor because I can’t work on you without risking further damage.” I ran into my acupuncturist later that day and asked her for her opinion. She immediately said I need x-rays and an MRI. I went to my doctor. He ordered an MRI and referred me to an orthopedic doctor. He also said my blood pressure spiked and I needed meds for that. I was put on steroids.

My insurance denied the MRI.

I went to the orthopedic doctor. I was in extreme pain in the waiting room and couldn’t sit still. X-rays were taken but the images weren’t clear enough to nail down the problem but he said it appears that my C7 disc is becoming compromised and that’s why my right arm has been flailing and feeling like it’s on fire. I was prescribed gabapentin 300mg. He ordered an MRI, and also prescribed more steroids.

My car was hit in the parking lot while at that appointment and whomever hit me left the scene. That’s another issue. Car is fixed now. $500 deductible.

My health insurance again denied the MRI.

About a week later I couldn’t stay in bed, couldn’t sit still, and couldn’t stop moving. I was losing my mind. This went on for 3 days until I couldn’t take it anymore and drove myself to the ER (albeit not in the hospital lot. They charge for parking and I don’t care if I have to crawl to the hospital. I’m not paying for parking). This was around 7am on November 1. The entire ER was filled with Halloween drunks and homeless people. Again, I couldn’t stop moving and my right arm was out of control (by the way, I drive stick so that was a fun drive). I called my mother and told her I was in the ER. She drove up immediately (My mother has been beyond helpful to me through all of this but that’s something I will talk about later). A competent doctor saw me and listened to everything I just explained above. He said, “You need an MRI”. I said, “I don’t mean to make this about money, but my health insurer denied 2 MRI requests”. He smirked. “They’re not going to deny one from me. You’re going to get one as soon as the room is available.” They tried to secure my head to the bed. The pain was so severe that I couldn’t push my head back. The machine operator was understanding but firm. “You can’t move your head for 20 minutes.” I said, “I don’t think I can handle 20 seconds. Can you do this with me knocked out?” “I will check. I’ll be back in a few minutes. You can stand up if you want.” She came back and said, “Is this for pain or claustrophobia?” I was cranky and achy and said, “I’m not afraid of anything. I need to make sure you get a good image.” They injected me with some heavy narcotic, got the MRI and sent me home, instructing me not to work for 72 hours. I wound up working the next day because I have 2 jobs and I don’t have much of a choice for coverage. I was heavily drugged. My mother can’t drive stick. She asked how we’re getting my car home. I said, “I guess we’re gonna have to let the drugs wear off and hope you can bring me to my car.”  So yeah, 90 minutes later I drove my car while still doped up (I only live about 2 miles from the hospital).

I go back to the orthopedic doctor. He gets the MRI and suggests I get an EMG test, but consult with my regular doctor before doing so. In the meantime, he doubles my gabapentin dosage.

I go back to my regular doctor. The blood pressure meds he prescribed caused massive nosebleeds and hives all over my chest and upper back. He changed prescriptions and added a water pill. He calls a neurologist to schedule me for an EMG. I go to the neurologist, get the EMG done (which hurts, but not as bad as some describe), and give them my orthopedic office’s contact information.

Now we’re into the holidays. I’m busy at both jobs. Extra hours. On my feet all day. Labor intensive. Still in pain and definitely feeling weak. I hadn’t been able to reach the orthopedic office on the phone, so I drove there. They said they didn’t have the EMG test results. Well the neurologist office was done the freaking highway, so I drove there and asked them to fax it over. I had to go to work.

I get through Christmas and New Year’s Eve and suddenly wake to find no blood in 4 of my toes. Never happened before.

I go back to my regular doctor. He doubles my blood pressure medication.

So now I taking twice the dosage for both of my regular medications.

Last week I had a little bit of pain in my feet but didn’t notice until the following morning that my feet and legs had swollen dramatically. Edema. Water retention in legs. What. The. Fuck.

I call both doctors. I see another doctor (Saturday) and he says, “You’re not dying, but you need to switch your blood pressure medication and consume almost no salt for a while. You also need an ultrasound on your legs to make sure you don’t have a blood clot.” I scheduled the ultrasound. In the meantime the orthopedic doctor calls me back and tells me to reduce the gabapentin to one dose per day and only before bed.

The ultrasound was awkward but woman who did it said, “okay. you’re done. the good news is no blood clot. If I had found one, you’d already be on the way to the hospital.”

I have two more appointments in the next two weeks.

EVERYTHING WAS FINE UNTIL MY BIRTHDAY.

They keep saying I’m not dying, but am I really not dying? These medications also impact my mood and honestly sometimes make me feel stoned. At this point I’m just fucking scared.

I need a vacation, and I wanna go to fucking Disneyland. Laugh at that all you want.

[thefeelingofdetachment]

Meth Heads

I was drunk on for too long, and high on pills; but they weren't doing anything for me any more, so I had an urge to get higher. I tried black tar heroin before, and it basically made me feel better than opiate pills. I did these drugs, because I don't feel mentally ill while on them. I also feel social, and charming. In the back of my head I realized I was making poor decisions; however I've been suicidal for a long time, so if I fuck up, and die - I really didn't care. I decided to call my homeless friend James, who just came back from living in Mexico. He was smoking meth in Mexico with his gf who he was abusing. He told me she was a "bitch" who wouldn't allow him to watch too much television, and complained that he didn't work whenever when arrived home from work. In anger he would lock her outside, and laugh maniacally, telling her to wait outside until morning. James receives social security disability for schizophrenia. He had good tastes in music, and video games, so I thought I could relate to him. I also have schizophrenia, so I thought that could possibly be another relation. I was completely wrong. In order to find black tar I had too get on a bus, and meet him in downtown Sacramento. I took a bunch of gabapentin in order to have confidence outside, because I rarely go outside, and get nervous in public often. As I was waiting for the bus young teenagers approached me and asked me for cigarettes. Teenagers in my neighborhood often ask older people in their 20s to buy them cigarettes, or black and mild/swishers in order to smoke blunts. I told them to "fuck off." As I sat on the bus I felt nervous, so I sat in the very back observing everyone. There were some students staring at their phones, and another guy yelling on his phone about something. For some reason in poor neighborhoods, people yelling on their phones is a common occurrence, so I just ignored it. The pills started to kick on when I got off the bus. I took a lite rail to James' location. the lite rail was mostly black people with headphones, which relaxed me, because I knew nobody would try to have a conversation with me. When I arrived. I smile, and walked around with James. I asked him "If we can't get tar, do you know if we can get some crystal?" He said, "Yeah fsho." We ended up talking to several sketchy people about finding drugs. Mostly homeless people who smelled bad - with bad teeth. I really didn't feel nervous, because I was high as fuck, and kind of felt sympathetic, because I knew they were as crazy as I was. I just had a home. One black guy thought I was selling meth, so he kept following us, and smiling, asking "You got that good clear, nigga?" I said, "nah man, we ain't sellin' we're lookin," but he kept following us. James sort of just laughed maniacally, as he usually does, and asked if he could get a burger. We went to a burger place, and ate. The man stopped following us after that. At the burger place we discussed how people are fucked up, and avoid you if you have a mental illness. I thought this was true, but people were probably just avoiding us, because we were crazy, and on drugs. After eating I was getting disappointed that we couldn't find any drugs. We found out from one person we could get tar at a motel but it was in a sketchy hotel full of prostitutes and meth heads, and we just wanted to get it without having to knock on doors. I realized My dog was still at home, and might need to piss or shit. We went to take the lite rail, but there was a bomb threat, and it no trains were available. We took an uber to my place. We told the uber driver that there was a bomb threat. He didn't say anything. He was probably pissed that he just picked up two looking-homeless dudes who smelled like weed, cigarettes, and alcohol. We didn't tip him. At my place James and I decided to play Donkey Kong Country for Super Nintendo. One of my favorite things to do in life is to play video games with friends. It takes me back to when I was a child, and before traumatic things occurred. He fell asleep while playing. The next day James went to the liquor store. I took some more pills. He came back, and said, "Hey I found a dude who can give us some tar and dope," so I gave him some money, content that I was going to feel euphoric once again. James left, but came back with a shirtless homeless dude. "He wants to smoke it with us, can he come in?" but before I can say anything they both walked into my apartment. I felt like denying it, but I was high, irrational, suicidal, and wanted to feel good instead of constantly depressed. I was obviously not making the best decisions. Once the homeless man entered my home He said, "Thank you for having me in your home. That's a blessing." Then he started to speak in Hawaiian. I recognized it, because I am part Hawaiian. I told him "Hey, my grandmother was Hawaiian, and Japanese." He replied. "I'm Hawaiian, and Japanese - that means we're brothers - my names is Keiko." We started to smoke crystal, and once I took a hit, Immediately felt my whole body turn numb, and euphoria rising. I proclaimed out loud. "Wooooooo I feel good." Keiko laughed, and so did James with his maniac laugh. He insisted on smoking more, even though I felt like I was done. Keiko started talking about how God lives through him, and God is everywhere and everything. I didn't believe in what he was saying, because I couldn't imagine God living through us while smoking crystal in a trashy apartment. He then started talking about jail, and how scary it was. He took out a long screwdriver, saying he needs to protect himself while homeless. We smoked more, and I started feeling incredibly stupid and forgetful. He told us that he texted a guy, and that we could get tar, so he ordered me to follow him outside to get it. He took his bike, and rode off. I took my bike, and started to ride, but fell several times, because I was fucked up; so I ran to catch up with him. I reached the street, and couldn't see him anywhere. So I just stood their gazing at different locations. I smiled at a woman, and she frowned at me. I finally saw Keiko on his bike coming back, so I followed him when we reached my apartment. He was incredibly pissed. "Never look fucking suspicious outside while looking for drugs. Why the fuck were you looking around? Do you not fucking trust me?" I frowned, and was tired from running. "Why the fuck do you look like that? You don't fucking trust me. I'll fucking take your money, and drugs, and fucking leave you guys behind. The dealer said never buy tar near your own home you fucking idiot." I should have told him to just leave, because he was obviously paranoid, and crazy, but I exclaimed. "I'm sorry. I'm just new to this, and was looking for you. I thought you wanted me to come with you to the deal, because you said go outside. I trust you. I would have just stayed inside, and waited, if I knew that you wanted me to just chill." This didn't seem to convince him, but I told him, "Hey let's smoke more." and this seemed to calm him down. He kept yelling at me inside, so James started to yell at him, saying that I'm new to this, and is always alone, never hanging out with people. He finally calmed down after smoking a cigarette, and another hit of crystal. He told me Hawaiian people wouldn't like me, because I don't make eye contact, and I'm not social. I told him "I'm social on drugs." He kept giving me more, even though I knew I had enough. I suddenly started to feel happy, and child-like. I asked him. "Have you ever been married?" He became angry, and responded. "What? Are you fucking gay?" I said, "No, I'm not gay." He said. "I'm pretty sure you're fucking gay." I replied honestly, and said, "I was bicurious once, and fucked a thai dude, but I've been with a lot of women." He sort of misunderstood, and said, "If you're bisexual, then suck this dick." I told him, "I don't suck dick. I think it's degrading." He replied "I'm pretty sure you want to suck my dick." At this point I wanted him to leave, but realized he had a weapon, and that would be problematic. We smoked more, and he kept talking about women, and pussy. He suggested to bring some prostitutes over. I was so high out of my mind that I was okay with it. I said, "no white women." then he replied again, "Are you fucking gay?" irritably, and I said, "no I just dislike them." He took out his phone, and showed me a picture of his hard dick, then asked, "Do you want to suck this dick?" I just looked at it disinterested, then took out a phone, and showed him my dick, which was significantly bigger. He suddenly was less confident after showing him the picture. He decided to show me how throw punches. I threw punches, but kept missing his open hands, because I was too high. He made me smoke more, and I started feeling insane/happy/paranoid/confident simultaneously. I gave him some weed, and he said, "Since I'm giving you tar and shit, I'm taking a bunch of this weed for the dealer." He dumped my jar out and took it. I wanted to protest, but once again realized I'm too high to defend myself, and he has a weapon. He then suggested a massage. We went into my room, and he told me take off your shirt. I lied down on the floor, and he started to massage me. He actually got rid of a lot of knots, but I was afraid he was going to rape me. This whole time James was just in the living room staring at his phone, playing a video game, and laughing maniacally. "My turn." I started to massage him for a few minutes, but I said, "This is really fucking weird, and making me uncomfortable." He complied, and stopped. So he started to watch porn on my computer. I showed him some of my favorite porn actresses, but then I realized this might make him horny, so I went to back to the living room, where James was sitting doing nothing. We smoked more, and I knew I was high out of my mind, because I started shaking uncontrollably. I realized I lost my weed pipe, and started looking for it everywhere. Making a mess of the whole apartment. Keiko yelled at me saying, "You're fucking tweakin. I didn't steal your pipe." I wasn't thinking he did, but I started to think he did, since he said that. "Why are you shaking so much? You don't fucking trust me.?" James yelled, "because you gave him too much fucking meth," and started laughing. I told Keiko he can have food, and basketball shorts, and this seemed to calm him. He showed me the food he cooked. Japanese noodles, and a full can of Spam. he ate the whole thing, then said, "because you're a fuck up, you don't deserve these good drugs." So he took a bunch of the tar, and went to the bathroom to shoot up most of it. While he was in the bathroom I grabbed my ps4, and the rest of the heroin, and hid it somewhere, but forgot where I hid it. Once he was out of the bathroom, he told me, "I'm leaving to get some bitches. Fuck you guys." but then he whispered to me, "Can you fuck me with your big dick?" I stopped shaking,and calmly replied, "No." He left. Once he left I started complaining to James how I wanted to just do drugs with him, and get no on else involved. James said. "I thought you liked him. Especially when I heard porn playing." I told him I was just playing along. James just laughed, then I realized he was also laughing when Keiko wanted me to suck his dick. I started looking for the heroin, and ps4 to calm down, but I yelled "I think he stole the heroin and my ps4!" James said "Oh wtf fuck that guy" I kept looking, and made a mess of the apartment. I found the tar, and smoked it with James to calm down. I calmed down after smoking, but then became incredibly nauseous. My dad arrived home from his vacation, and saw the apartment a complete mess. He called my name, and saw that I was high out of my mind. He looked like he was going to cry, and instead of yelling he just said, "please don't do this again." He used to smoke meth, so he was actually sympathetic to my situation. I was in bed for six straight days sick. Mostly dry-heaving, and throwing up bile. My father kicked James out of the apartment, and told him to never come back. This event really affected me. It was pretty much my fault, because of being incredibly stupid. I'm paranoid, and anxious of men now. I bought pepper spray, and barricaded my front window, just in case he came back to steal something. I found my pipe and ps4 a month later. The only thing he stole was weed, and money I now have nightmares of smoking meth with new, crazy people, and when I awake I'm sweating, and feel like I'm still high on it. Sometimes I still want to smoke those drugs to feel euphoria from the ptsd due to those drugs, which is ironic. The only thing I learned is that I somehow brought hell into my home, and that morality may be real because I was so afraid. The nihilist in me has slowly died.