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loki-darkprince-odinson · 4 years ago

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King Loki, I apologize for the rant but I would like some advice.

My father always makes me feel like complete garbage. He is always putting me down, never appreciates me, and makes my depression so much worse. I'm fixing up a house to move in with my friends but I'm still stuck at the house since my parents won't help me get my license or a car, much less a job. I cook, do dishes, take care of the pets, take out the trash, get the mail, do my laundry, wash towels, and help with their laundry. I also take care of my sick mother and while I'm currently on summer break, I'm going to college to become a clinical psychologist. Even then, my father will point out other things that I don't do, and expects me to clean the entire house every day. He always talks about how he needs to do everything around the house yet all he does is sleep, play video games, and watch television. He also says he works hard yet on many occasions he says he sits on his ass all day on his tablet. He also yells so much. I get scared every day when he starts yelling because I worry he may leave us, which he has threatened before, or he may actually hit us. He never has hit either my mother or I yet, and says he never would but he slams and throws things when angry at us so it's his way of showing us how much he wants to hit us, even if he doesn't realize it. However, not only do I have many responsibilities, My depression makes it difficult for me to do much, and he makes it worse. Even when I do try to clean the house he always makes comments such as: "About time." or "How long until it gets cleaned next time?" or "This was half assed, you didn't do it right." I have tried so hard to have a connection with him but I'm so tired of fighting for a relationship that he doesn't care about. I can't address my concerns with him because he will threaten to not take me to college and pay the bills. Do you have any advice to help me deal with my father until I can escape?

Best regards, Catrina.

“Catrina,” Loki drawls, in his smooth resonate voice. “I firstly must commend your good work. For caring for your ill mother, minding the household needs, and that you get up in the morning even if your soul is weary and your bones ache for a rest; that you keep on living even if you do not know how to anymore. Secondly, you have my deepest sympathies for your grievances. I am all too familiar with what it is like to seek the approval of a parent; only for there to be none in return.” His eyes were completely unfocused, yet his pallid features bore the most intense concentration as memories flowed unbidden.

He says nothing for a moment. Then, something in the edge of his mouth—and the corner of his eyes—resembled the ghost of a sad smile.

“Those whom I knew and called my mother and father are dead. That much is beyond dispute. They were not my real parents, but they raised me as their own. I daresay they loved me. That had been in dispute, at least in my own mind for awhile. I found out very late that my identity was a lie. Not Asgardian, not a son of Odin, I was completely unmade. That was how I felt when I learned of my true parentage. I was a fraud, a monster; it explained so much. It explained why I never felt like I fit in, why I would never be my brother's equal, why I would never get what I'd been promised my whole life.” His voice was soft, hoarse. Intent.

Loki raises his left hand and rests his forefinger against his lips as a line forms between his own eyebrows in thought.

“I have lingered around Midgard long enough to come to an understanding of how your minds tick. I shall do my best to give advice where I can.

Try, if you will, to put things into perspective. The most loving parents commit murder with smiles on their faces. They force one to destroy the person they really are: a subtle kind of murder. Even the most loving parents damage their children with the best intentions—to protect them, to guide them, to better them. In most cases, it would appear they do it by imprinting their own fears and prejudices on them.

The point is, parents are mere, imperfect people.

They have flaws, struggles and impaired judgement. They have both emotional and intellectual handicaps. Regardless of their parental role, they are afflicted by personal blockages and limitations.

But most of all, they are people who make mistakes, and who are terrified of being judged by their children.

Learn to see your difficult parent as just that; human. Learn to see their emotional immaturity as a type of disability.

With that in mind, you would do well to keep your expectations of them low.

In many ways the effect a difficult parent has on ones self is fueled by their feelings of injustice and the belief that things could be different, or ought to be different.

In other words, your expectations dictate how you feel.

You need to let go of your expectations and accept your parent for who they are.

You cannot expect someone with, say, a narcissistic personality, to act with empathy and kindness. No more than you can expect a scorpion not to sting.

Difficult parents are much easier to deal with when you accept that they will not change. So do not expect of them more than they are capable of, and you will not be disappointed or hurt.

Do not fall into the illusion of guilt, Catrina.” He warns. “A difficult parent loves nothing more than to make you feel like you’ve hurt them. Or, in a different scenario, like you’re a bad person if you do not do something they ask.

Do not fall for it. If they’re setting a guilt trap, calmly tell them that you do not appreciate being emotionally manipulated, and you will not tolerate it anymore.

Manipulators, and I should know, detest being called out on their dirty tricks.

If they continue to harass you, reiterate that you cannot do what they’re asking you to do this time, and you need them to respect that.

The trick is agreeing with everything they’re saying (how can they argue when you agree with them?) and re-stating your decision over and over again.

Now this part I find to be… far more easier said than done. You must let go of the need for your father's approval, Catrina. It goes without saying that every child needs and wants their parents’ approval. It is normal to want it, and it is normal to receive it.

Yet so many have to accept the fact that this is not going to happen. For whatever reason, their parent has chosen to withhold their approval. Some difficult parents do it as a form of punishment. While others hope to influence their child in the “right” direction.

Most likely, your father loves you, but they have a very warped idea of what parental love is.

In their misguided quest to make you into a version of themselves, they missed the chance to get to know you. And so they cannot appreciate you for the wonderful being that you are.”

He shrugs elegantly. “It is their loss. When you realize this and let go of the need for their approval, you will be able to start living your life in a whole new way.

When confronting your father, be direct and calm without expecting a specific response. That is the part you cannot control. The part that is within your control is letting your thoughts and feelings known, which is empowering.

Stick to the facts and use “I” statements such as, “I feel like my words do not matter to you when you constantly interrupt me” or “I feel scared and misunderstood when you yell at me”

Remember that manipulative parents are not known for their empathy. They will try to confuse you, go on the offensive, or assume the role of a victim.

Do not allow them to bully you into submission by invoking guilt or pity. State your case in a calm and polite manner, and stay cool regardless of their response.

Your goal is to be honest about your feelings, and to make it clear that you will not tolerate certain behaviors.” He softly clears his throat.

“Last but not least, an unhappy alternative is forgoing the relationship that is too harmful. I know, a parent is not someone you can so easily cut out of your life. But if all else fails and your father continues to cause you psychological harm, then this may very well need to be taken into considerable consideration; at least for the foreseeable future. Sometimes it is the only logical recourse.

A parent that is fundamentally incapable of showing love and support, unable to see the error of their ways after numerous attempts to communicate how their behavior or words affect you, consistently dismissive, demeaning or critical, manipulative in a habitual manner, punishing and cruel whenever you disobey, are disrespectful of your boundaries and using threats and intimidation to get what they want is a destructive force that will continue to tear you down until you put a stop to it.

It is not an easy feat, my dear. The parent-child bond is hardwired into the brain, which means children get attached to even the most awful of parents.

But consider the cost of having that toxic relationship in your life—stress breeds anxiety, depression, internalized feelings of inadequacy, and failed personal relationships.

I wish you all the best, Catrina. I truly do.”

#loki #loki rp #loki odinson #ask loki #ask #parental troubles #gothiccatrina #loki roleplay

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zeldasayer · 4 years ago

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I transcribed and translated Pedro’s interview from GQ Germany for all of us. I tried translating as good as possible but bear with me, English is not my mother tongue. By @sixties-loser

Pedro Pascal, the star from “Game of Thrones”, “Wonder Woman” and “The Mandalorian” talks about becoming an adult, film, fashion, corona – and a painful surgery in the exclusive GQ interview.

It seems almost eerie how empty the streets of LA are in the sunshine. Meanwhile a new normality seems to be coming to Europe, most people in L.A. are still cutting their own hair. Many have not seen their friends for half a year. The pandemic is out of control. The reaction towards it too. Inviting someone into their garden for a “distance drink” can cause the same distress as suggesting to switch spouses.

Therefore, it was particularly surprising that Pedro Pascal immediately accepted. He accepted the drink, not to switch spouses. He is one of the rising stars and newcomers this year – if it wasn’t for corona sending the whole film industry into a forced vacation, there would most likely not have been time for said drink. After having his skull crushed in “Game of Thrones” followed the lead role as a DEA agent hunting Pablo Escobar in “Narcos” in 2015 and now he is stepping towards big Hollywood films. From the 1st of October onwards the Chilean-born actor will be starring in the blockbuster “Wonder Woman 1984”. Moreover, the second season of the “Star Wars”-series “The Mandalorian” on Disney+ starring him as the lead is going to air in October this year – but he will be underneath a helmet. Well, we all are under a helmet in 2020 in one way or another. We want to meet the man who a few years ago still worked as a waiter in New York, whose parents were political refugees who found asylum in Denmark and settled in Texas and whose son one day signed up for a theatre group in High School.

Then, the cancellation! While we were in the middle of fixing up the house and the garden for the drink with Pedro and organizing the fashion shoot, which was not easy considering the safety measures in L.A., his management called with an unfortunate message: Pedro – no, not sick with corona – had to get emergency surgery because of a damaged tooth and was lying in bed with a swollen face that was hindering him from speaking and taking pictures. The sun is shining onto empty streets. And our empty garden.

A few days later he nonetheless arrived at our front door without a swollen face but still with threads in his mouth. He was not chauffeured by a limo-service but he came with his own car – he even picked up his make-up artist. He is helping her carrying all of her utensils into the house and declares: “I’ve got time today!”. What a celebrity! It seemed like we did not want to ask him how he made it to the A-List of Hollywood but he wanted to ask us how we made it to the A-list. Pedro Pascal! Yes, what kind of a celebrity?

Pedro Pascal: Sorry for messing with your plans. The surgery was an emergency.

GQ: Really? We were wondering whether the swelling wasn’t the product of a secret visit to the plastic-surgeon. Apparently, they are drowning in work because of the quarantine in Hollywood.

PP: I have to disappoint you. A few days before our appointment I was rushing to the hospital with a fractured tooth and the worst pain in my entire life – a hospital in which treats people with severe cases of corona. I was unable to reach any dentist! Right in front of the parking lot a specialist called me back. The pain was hell despite the ten injections I got. The doctor said I was not an exception because a lot of people are grinding their teeth because of all the stress.

GQ: What are you most afraid of at the moment?

PP: How the government is handling the pandemic is worrying me more than the virus itself. This shortage of intelligent management of the crisis is a moral shame. The leadership crisis in this country is turning us all into orphans – destitute and abandoned.

GQ: How did you spend your time over the last few months?

PP: I spent it with frozen pizza and sweatpants in Venice Beach. I live in a rear house that’s in a family’s garden. Actually, there are a lot of good takeout places nearby but for some reason I just love pepperoni pizza from the supermarket.

GQ: That does not really sound like movie star-lifestyle. What does it feel like being suddenly stopped from top speed to zero?

PP: Regarding what is going on around the world one should hold back one’s own mental turmoil. I would be lying if I was saying that I am not disappointed. The whole team put a lot of heart and work into the production of “Wonder Woman 1984”. We had a lot of fun on set. I wished to travel around the world and introduce the film with the same lively energy.

GQ: You come from a politically engaged, socialist family that fled from the Pinochet-regime in Chile. What do you remember from that time?

PP: My sister and I were born in Chile but I was only nine months old when we first found asylum in Denmark. From there we quickly came to San Antonio in Texas where my dad started working as a doctor at the university clinic.

GQ: Texas is not known as a socialist utopia. How did you assimilate?

PP: San Antonio is not a Cowboy-town but very diverse with big Asian, black and Latino communities. I remember it as a romantic place, culturally open. The culture shock only came as we later moved to range county in California. There the atmosphere was suddenly white, preppy and conservative.

GQ: How were you received in California?

PP: I’m still ashamed of the fact that I did not correct my classmates when they kept on calling me Peter. I am Pedro. Even if I didn’t grow up in Chile the country and the language are still a part of me. I was very unhappy in that environment. However, I was fortunately able to go to another school close to Long Beach where I felt more comfortable. Through the theater group at that school I found my way.

GQ: Were you able to visit Chile as a child?

PP: Yes, when my parents made it to the list of expatriates that were able to travel to Chile without consequences. First, there was a big family reunion and then my sister and I stayed there for a few months with relatives while my parents went back to Texas. They likely needed a break from us. They got us when they were very young, had a buzzing social life and my mother was obtaining a PhD in psychology.

GQ: Was your mother a typical young psychologist who wanted to apply her theoretical knowledge at home?

PP: You mean, whether I was her guinea pig? For sure! I remember strange tests and sittings that were disguised as games where someone was watching me react to different toys. I cannot have been older than six but I was already aware of the dynamic. My favourite thing was being questioned about my dreams. That was a wonderful opportunity to come up with fantastic stories.

GQ: Was that your first performance?

PP: Of course! My mother worried about my strong imagination because I was living in my own fantasy world rather than reality. I hated going to school. I was always categorized as the troublemaker. At one point, the topics at school became more interesting and my grades also went up. There are so many kids that are unnecessarily diagnosed with learning disabilities without considering that school can be abhorrent. Why is it so accepted to be bored in class when there are so many stimulating ways to convey knowledge?

GQ: Considering al that has happened this summer around the world: Do you believe that we can seriously demand social change now?

PP: I Hope so. After lockdown, the first time I went out was to protest for “Black Lives Matter” on the streets. The energy was peaceful and hopeful until the police provoked severe conflicts. Nevertheless, we cannot run from problems like we used to this time and we cannot distract ourselves from them either. It seems like the pressure of the pandemic led to a new clarity: We cannot go on this way.

GQ: The “Wonder Woman 1984” Trailer revives the optimism of the 1980’s. From today’s point of view, it seems almost nostalgic.

PP: That’s right. You really are happy for two hours. The director Patty Jenkins created a film full of positive messages. We shot in Washington D.C., then in London and Spain – this sounds like I am talking of a past time.

GQ: Do you miss traveling?

PP: I’m just now realizing the privilege of just packing up one’s stuff and being able to fly anywhere. An American passport used to guarantee unlimited travel. And that’s why it the small radius of our lives is actually unimaginable. Over the last years I often retreated for a break after shootings because I was constantly on the move and overstimulated. My friends were already complaining I had become too comfortable. We all took social contact for granted and are only realizing now how dependent we actually are on human contact. Over the last weeks I often longingly thought about all the parties and dinner invitations I declined.

GQ: In L.A. people spend more time at home or nature than in other metropolises that are more geared towards public life. Could this city become your second home after New York?

PP: My Real Home are my friends. I have been a nomad since I was little and I do not have a place where I have put down roots. Up until not long ago my physical home was a place in between departure and arrival. Therefore, it was something I did not want to complicate through the accumulation of stuff. On the contrary: Without having read Marie Kondo’s book I have freed myself from excess baggage over the last few years and I lived relatively minimally.

GQ: Is there nothing you collect or something you just can’t throw away?

PP: Books! I even still have the literature I read when I was a teenager and when I was in college. Recently, I stumbled upon a box full of old theatre manuscripts and materials from my time at the New York University. I also cannot part from art easily, just like I cannot part from lamps or old photos. On the other hand, I can easily get rid of furniture and clothes.

GQ: Do you remember roles that were really only completely defined through the costume?

PP: Yes, I am particularly thinking about “Game of Thrones”. At that time I understood for the first time what it meant to be supported by a look. This is thanks to the costume designer Michele Clapton. She created very feminine robes and brocade coats for my character that nevertheless looked masculine when worn and I felt very sexy in them. Of course, Lindy Hemmings power-suits and Jan Swells bleached hairstyle for the tycoon-villain in “Wonder Woman 1984” were very important as well. At first I did not really see myself in the role because the cuts and colors of the 80s do not really fit my body. I’m more the 70s type.

GQ: Do you incorporate those inspirations into your personal wardrobe?

PP: In my free time I choose comfort over a cool look these days. Sometimes I miss the times when I expressed myself through a certain style. It is hard to imagine that I went to Raves as a teenage in the 90s; I was a real club kid with ridiculous outfits: overalls, balloon pants, football shirts and a top hat, like in Dr.Seuss’s “Cat in a Hat”. Later in New York I was hanging out with a group of people that felt it was very important to have a certain style. The fact that I am basically only wearing sweatpants everyday is actually tragic.

GQ: whoever plays roles in comic book adaptations becomes a bodybuilder and eats ten chicken breasts a day. You don’t?

PP:My body would not agree with that. It is hard enough to stay in shape normally. When you’re in your mid-forties you have to live with a lot more discipline. Up until before my tooth-incident I worked out with a trainer in my garden multiple times a week to keep the quarantine body in check.

GQ: Apart from the personal trainer, are you in a steady relationship?

PP: I am not ready for that yet. Maybe at some point I will be but until then I’ll let it be. I can’t even offer you absurd corona dating stories.

GQ: What would annoy you the most if you were your own roommate?

PP: I can be quite controlling. I have to conjure all my humanity to prevent myself from going through my entire film collection. When I don’t want something I cannot keep it to myself or be passive-aggressive, I always have to take it to the frontlines. Other than that, I tend to have tunnel view: when I am not feeling well I cannot imagine to ever feel better again. I have trouble relativizing my emotions or to wave off problems. Method-acting would really not be for me. This is why I try to only work on projects that feel good, where there is mutual support and encouragement.

GQ: When we were trying on the clothes earlier you spoke of a lack of self-confidence. How does that get along with a career like yours?

PP: Isn’t it interesting how these characteristics and circumstamces relate? Self-worth comes from inside but it is also influenced by what society values because we often internalise the public gaze. I have lived in New York for 20 years, I studied there and made a living by working as a waiter until my mid-thirties because the theatre and film jobs I got did not pay the bills. There were so many times I was almost there. The disappointment of having missed the perfect role or opportunity by a hair’s width can be crushing. When should you give up and what is plan B? That is a question that is not only on many actors‘s minds but also on many others minds who struggle for a living – no matter how much potential they have or how close they seem to be to the top. We are seeing now how our narrow definition of success destroys society. At the same time, we are realizing that where we come from and the color of our skin still decide whether we can exist with dignity.

GQ: What are the positive aspects of a relatively late success as leading-man?

PP: I feel like I can decide over my own life without the pressure of having to accept projects or to have to present a certain identity on social media. This is for sure also because I am a man. Regardless of age, Women have to try harder to stand out.

GQ: Life always consists of risk management – now more than usual. For what would you risk losing something?

PP: Generally, when you never risk something you might never get ahead. That is for friendship, love, work and creativity. I have to be ready to take risks for the things that really matter to you.

#pedro pascal #THANK YOU MY LOVE!#submission

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vtforpedro · 4 years ago

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medical update and stuff. trigger warnings in tags I’m extremely frustrated. it’s been 15 months of frustration lol so so so sick of doctors, so sick of living through this. I am tired and getting no relief you might remember, but I was given a ‘possible’ IIH diagnosis in October. we’ve been treating it like it is IIH, which means everything has always been real etc etc and the treatment is weight loss. started my ‘better eating habits’ on nov 1st. then I immediately had the thing with my chemo pill packing on a ton of excess fluid, worsening my head to the point of ER and calling my neurosurgeon, getting taken off my chemo pill, and it wasn’t until mid-december that I actually started to see any fucking weight loss cause of that my pcp told me 5lbs a month. so I’ve been right on track with that despite wishing I could lose 10 a month but that’d be starving myself so lol I’ve lost 15lbs but now something exciting is happening again!! I am retaining fluid and I have NO idea why. which means my head is now as bad as it was last summer when everything was at its worse. constant all day long, pills barely doing anything for me, vision issues, pain issues. it feels like something broke in the base of my skull/neck because I get the scariest sensations there. it’s horrible. no human being should have to live this way and I do it every single day, numerous times a day anyway I had to go to the ER last thursday A G A I N because a doctor sent me. my pupils were noticeably two different sizes. I’d noticed three days beforehand and convinced myself I was imagining it cause it wasn’t a huge difference. finally took a picture and no, def not the same size and my eye looked like it was going inward? anyway, called my pcp, they had me come in that day, he saw it from a foot and a half away, sat back, and said I need you to go to the ER, you need your brain looked at. so again, I’ve been seeing this for three days while my head has been 10/10 extreme due to pressure in it. I get there and have to wait a while but less than two hours later when they finally looked at me? gone. pupils back to normal. doctor talking down to me like I was just an anxious mess and not that another dr sent me cause he saw what I did lol and his notes were in my chart. so, wasted visit and they put a covid patient 15ft from me and intubated them, so get to remember what that sounds like forever and ever (covid patients are supposed to be separated from other ER patients). now I’m doing a 10 day quarantine while I am so severely disabled I cannot bend over to take care of my cats food/litter/etc and it’s why my mom half lives with me but she can’t right now :) getting a covid test in three hours and it’s been eight days with nothing but head issues + fluid retention so hoping it’s negative the fluid retention I had before was a side effect of my chemo pill. I don’t know why this is happening. I should be 17lbs down now and I’ve actually gained weight despite being on the same diet that lost me the 15. I’m back to 13lbs down. this makes me feel like I might be carrying 4lbs of water weight. let me break this down because yesterday a PA told me my symptoms were too ‘ambiguous’ to say if fluid retention is happening or not - fluid retention from the chemo pill was ALL felt in my stomach. it was distended and bloated like I’d eaten at a buffet every single day - head got massively worse, enough to go to the er, doc and I agreed the fluid retention causing me to fluctuate between 15lbs was making the IIH worse - not urinating often despite drinking a normal amount - got on a diuretic, seven days later the weight was gone, head was better, started losing weight this is what I’m experiencing now - fluid retention that is causing my stomach to feel very bloated and look/feel distended - head has gotten massively worse, enough to send me to the ER - should be losing weight, have actually gained weight on a low fat, low calorie diet - the only difference this time is that I am dehydrating myself (yes I know, bad, but it is literally saving my life) because I experimented one day with half my water intake and my head was miles better. still experiencing a terrible head episode once or twice a day but it’s not 10/10 constantly - and the second difference is despite not drinking enough water, I am actually urinating more often and it’s a lot more clear than it should be, the color I expect when I’m hydrating well I consider this ^^^^^ to be a good case of why I think I have fluid retention but being told my symptoms were ‘ambiguous’ and throwing me to my neurosurgeon instead is HNNNNG (esp because diuretics are known to help IIH symptoms FOR THIS EXACT REASON) I have VERY recently had my sugars checked a few times, glucose is normal. VERY recently had an abdominal CT, also normal. it’s not diabetes, it’s not something happening in my abdomen. they hear abdomen vs legs swelling and think it’s GI because doctors never fucking listen and actively put their patients in danger but o h w e l l, I guess anyway as it’s been for 15 months, I am stuck between a rock and a hard place. I go this way and experience agony, I go that way and experience agony I need extra hydration for weight loss, leukemia, being obese. I need less hydration because it worsens IIH to the point of 10/10 I want to die (which makes me heavily and actively suicidal. doctors see I take anti-depressants and assume idk I’m being dramatic but no, it’s really this fucking bad. I would rather die that moment than keep feeling what’s happening in my head) there’s like no middle ground and my body and these doctors are making it impossible to figure this shit out. my mom had to come over at 1:45 AM last night (hasn’t had to rush here since april 2020 cause that’s just how bad it is) because I lost my balance twice and was lucky I had something to catch onto or I would’ve been on the ground (neuro symptoms which could be IIH, could be chiari, could be stroke) and my speech got SUPER bad almost immediately. scared the hell out of me, I have never in my life lost balance that badly before things are going downhill and I would’ve thought losing weight they’d start improving but when has my body ever made this easy lol meeting a new neurologist on monday who works in the same building with my neurosurgeon. I’ve been avoiding them cause every single one of them told me I was just anxious despite specific physical movements causing an episode lmao but hopefully this guy is better and he has access to all of my neurosurgeon’s notes and stuff. I can’t keep dehydrating myself but at the same time I can’t let my head get so bad I make a farewell note for my mom, you know? it’s just been really bad and I don’t know how to get people to listen to me. I have a 99% diagnosis and they still don’t take me as seriously as they should. this has ruined my quality of life and they would have you believe that doctors take that seriously but they do not neurosurgeon wants me to see an ophthalmologist again cause of my vision issues and to check for specific things that relate to IIH. he wants another MRI done in early may cause it’s been a year since my last one by then (actually a month later, my last one was in april, but I’m curious if the neurologist will order one sooner) to check to see if anything has worsened so yeah living in absolute hell again and don’t know if I can just get a simple one week diuretic to get this fluid out of my body. what the FUCK else can it be when I’ve experienced this exact thing twice!! before. it happened to a much, much lesser degree the first time I got on the chemo pill. but the same shit :) hanging on by the thinnest thread guys and 15 months of feeling like I’m going to die almost every single day through that has destroyed my psyche. destroyed me as a person. I don’t know what to do anymore sorry this is all a lot of Bad™ but it’s been a lot of bad for 15 months. if I can keep going, I hope one day to be able to give an update of improvement love you all

#medical #medical trauma #tw suicidal thoughts #personal #long post

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kuramirocket · 3 years ago

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In the grand cosmos of her life's journey, Ali Guarneros Luna discovered early on, the path to the stars is not a straight shot - but a winding course that sometimes skirts peril and disappointment.

As an engineer at NASA, Luna knows what's involved in navigating space. Her engineering fingerprints are all over numerous satellites currently orbiting the earth. And as project manager for NASA's Small Satellite Program she's worked on projects aimed at deepening understanding of what lies beyond. But her trajectory was definitely not a direct line.

"I was born in Mexico. My mother was born there. Being an immigrant in this country," Luna said, "having a harsh beginning, being a woman, it’s difficult, right?"

Luna's passion for space travel touched-off when she was seven-years-old living in her native Mexico City.

Unlike others who gaze up at the stars contemplating the meaning of the universe, Luna wondered about the machines that would make the trip possible.

"I was just so captivated at seven -- that I was like 'I want to do that!'" Luna recalled. "That’s exactly what I want to do and at that age I was like, 'I’m going to be an aerospace engineer.' My upbringing was different, I want to say, from most girls because I was never told that I had to fit certain roles. I guess it was because I was the oldest one of four. I had to step up. And the two youngest ones were boys. And I was a hyperactive child. So I never had that actually being a situation where I felt that I was not good enough in math or science. Because I had to be the boss. So it just happens that in that environment, even though I was only one of two girls within a bunch of young kids, mostly boys, I was doing what I wanted to do. And it was very exciting. So I never really had that. So with me going into aerospace engineering, I think it was an easy thing.”

After the 1985 Earthquake in Mexico City, her life changed. Ali and her mother immigrated to California and settled in San Jose, CA. With only two pieces of luggage, they left everything behind, especially close friends and family.

During the anti-immigration efforts like California Proposition 187 in 1994, school was the only thing Ali was allowed to do as her mother feared deportation. Her new schedule was limited to traveling from home to school and back, with no room to do the sports she loved. So school became her outlet — it became a safe place for her to grow up, where she could continue to learn and grow.

“So within six months of working full-time, my mother lost her job. So I became the one that supported the whole family. And I did it for about five years. It was tough because being so young and understand that my mother needed my support. And my brothers, being they were looking up to me -- it's something that's heavy when you're so young. You don't understand. But when I was growing up, I always moved on the opportunities that presented in front of me, and I did what I needed to do without looking back.”

Despite being a single mom, Ali’s mother worked hard to make sure Ali had every opportunity growing up. Ali was very athletic and participated in many sports and gymnastics, track being her favorite. When she wasn’t playing sports, she was reading the encyclopedias that her mother bought for her.

“My mother loved encyclopedias. My mother had so many. I would just sit in the living room reading about space shuttles after school because I really wanted to understand what they did.”

On the cusp of adulthood, she graduated high school and went straight into the workforce. Although she loved school, she wanted to support her mother and her family. She attempted to go to community college while working full time, but the emotional stress was overwhelming and she dropped out. In the next few years, she had four children, with two who had special needs. While caring for her children at home and researching their disabilities, she realized that she needed to go back to school.

“I saw my kids who were born with special needs, and I asked myself ‘How I can help them?’… it was clear to me that I needed to go back to school. I wanted to give them a stable life.”

Back-to-school, together. After her youngest child enrolled in kindergarten, Ali enrolled at San Jose City College and transferred to San Jose State University majoring in Aerospace Engineering. In this transition from stay-at-home mom to full-time student, she became a single parent. She was a full-time student while being a full-time mom, taking care of four children.

"I was too old, I was not as young as any of the students, and I definitely was not in that mold of students," said Guarneros Luna. "I had four children. I didn't think of myself as someone who was going to contribute something special."

“I went and applied for an internship without thinking that I was ever going to come and work for NASA. I did have a bachelor's degree, but I was old. I was not a young person. The internship was only going to be for three months. Because of the internship I have to leave one job and then be here. I knew it was only for three months, but the opportunity was too much to pass up. And then I became a contractor. And then it was important to apply for a civil servant. And I became a civil servant. ”

Ali has managed ten interns, introducing them to aerospace engineering through several projects including building three satellites and researching the design for return capsules for the International Space Station. Commercializing ISS has been a difficult problem for NASA and the process to ship products back and forth from the space station has to go through large space vehicles like Falcon, which takes three to six months. Space is limited on these vehicles and launching them gets very expensive. She and her team are paving the way to redesign return capsules with small payload returns so that astronauts can get the products they need for experiments in three business days rather than months later, allowing for more research to be done more efficiently.

Here is a part of the conversation with Ali Guarneros Luna, NASA Engineer and Deputy Project Manager at NASA’s Ames Research Center in Silicon Valley:

Host: When you became a civil servant you were working on some safety aspects?

Ali Guarneros Luna: Yeah. Safety mission assurance. So when I started for this small set of projected, specifically the TechEdSat, you're going through the space station. And you're dealing with humans inside. So everything you put inside the space station, you have to be careful of what you put in there and understand what are the consequences if something goes wrong.

So I was one of the group of engineers who started that process and started learning and setting it up for the following satellites that are going to be deployed from the space station. So I ended up doing all the safety data package, which is like documentation about your hardware that you put into space where you analyze all the hazards that you present to the space station or to the astronauts and then how are you going to control them and how are you going to verify them. So I was doing that. I became so good that I ended up doing every single one from the one first one to now, right?

Host: You do it right once, then they keep coming back.

Ali Guarneros Luna: Yes.

Host: This is my job now.

Ali Guarneros Luna: Yes. I was an engineer. I was part of the engineer group like two years ago. But there was an opening in safety mission assurance. Just for me to learn, I just say, "Why not? Let me go in there." So when you're an engineer and you go to school, nobody teaches you anything about that. You learn it on the job.

Despite her unique circumstances, Ali believes the challenges she experienced guided her to make the right decisions for her future. “I am resilient, if there’s a problem, there’s more than one solution”, she states, “To overcome difficult decisions, you need to plan for them…educate yourself so that you have the tools to make a plan of action.”

Every summer, Guarneros Luna gives back to her community. She goes back to San Jose State as a professor. "It's important for them to hear from somebody who did not come from a privileged background and did not come from parents that were educated," she said. "In my mind, I have that 'semillita' of education, that I wanted to get educated. A seed planted in me to go and get an education early on." The next time you look up and think your dreams like the moon are too far to reach, Guarneros Luna wants you to remember: 238,000 miles is actually closer than you think.

As an aerospace engineer, Ali is an advocate and actively promotes Science, Technology, Engineering and Math (STEM) education. She is registered with the NASA Ames Speakers Bureau and is an active participant of this program. Ali also supports yearly programs like, Girls Scouts Go Tech, SWE Get Set, Soles Science Extravaganza, Society of Women Engineers (SWE) “WOW that is Engineering”, Society of Hispanic Professional Engineers (SHPE )“Noche de Ciencia” by providing hands-on activities and tours of the labs at SJSU. In 2012, Ali had contact with the Mexican university,, Universidad Autonoma de Baja California, UABC. She hosted a 6-week workshop at SJSU for the UABC students to build and launch an armature rocket. The success of this project was greatly broadcast in Mexico and as a result the Agencia Espacial Mexican, AEM, is interested in organizing a similar program but with the involvement of more universities.

Ali is committed to encouraging young people to pursue science, technology and engineering careers. In recognition of her achievements, the Hispanic Engineering National Achievement Awards Conference (HENAAC) named Ali Guarneros Luna as one of the 2013 Luminary Honorees. In October 2015, Ali was awarded the NASA Honor Award - Equal Employment Opportunity Medal., She also received the ISS Space Award in 2014 for her contributions to SPHERES, Modular Rapidly Manufactured Small Satellite (MRMSS), Nodes and TechEdSat Series Projects:

SPHERES: For dedication and exceptional performance in the development and operations of free flying robotic satellites inside the ISS testing autonomous satellite maneuvers.

MRMSS: For dedication and exceptional performance in research and development of modular design and manufacturing processes for spacecraft systems.

Nodes: For dedication and exceptional performance in two nanosatellites that will be deployed from ISS to demonstrate networking and advanced multi-spacecraft operations

TechEdSat Series: For exceptional performance and dedication in the development, test, launch, ISS deployment, and operation of the TechEdSat Nanosatellite spaceflight mission; launching the first NASA CubeSat from the ISS. TechEdSat-3p: For exceptional performance and dedication in the development, test, launch, ISS deployment, and operation of the TechEdSat-3p Nanosatellite “Exo-Brake” spaceflight mission; launching the first 3u NASA CubeSat from the ISS.

Ali Guarneros Luna currently works with the Office of System Safety & Mission Assurance (SS&MA) at NASA Ames Research Center. Prior to her work in the SS&MA, Ali worked in Ames’ Engineering Directorate as a technical authority for small satellite development and payloads bound for the International Space Station (ISS). In the Synchronized Position Hold, Engage, Reorient, Experimental Satellites (SPHERES) National Lab, she worked as the system and safety engineer. In the Edison Program, Ali served as the system engineering, mission and ground operations, and launch vehicle service expert for multiple CubeSat projects including the Technological and Educational Nanosatellite (TechEdSat). Ali functioned as the Deputy Project Manager, ISS expert, and launch vehicle interface for the Small Spacecraft Technology (SST) program’s Nodes project. In the Sub-Orbital Aerodynamic Re-entry EXperiments (SOAREX) Series of suborbital experiments, Ali has performed in multiple engineering roles to include design, building and testing engineer. Ali is currently the deputy project manager and co-investigator for the SOAREX 9 and SOAREX 10 missions.

She received her Bachelor of Science and Master of Science degrees in Aerospace Engineering from San Jose State University (SJSU) in 2010 and 2013, respectively. Upon completion of her undergraduate degree, Ali obtained an internship at NASA Ames with the Office of the Chief Technologist. During her time as an intern, she led and helped develop education and outreach programs for SJSU. The first program was called System of Networked Autonomous Positioning Satellites (SNAPS) followed by the TechEdSat Series. As a professional engineer, Ali has lead various projects affiliated with the ISS.

During her internship at NASA Ames, Ali supported the SNAPS project, which is an evolution of the SPHERES program which aims to demonstrate the practical applications of a network of autonomous probes. SNAPS was a test bed for guidance, navigation, and control (GNC) capabilities to enable probes to navigate without human interference or the need for external control.

As a professional engineer, Ali was mission manager for TechEdSat-1. In this capacity, Ali had managerial and oversight on all technical and programmatic aspects of the NASA Ames- SJSU project. In particular, Ali provided technical contributions to both speed the development and avoid ISS define hazard that could stop the mission, through innovative design, lab testing, and qualification methods for the TechEdSat flight hardware. She also developed and engineered the Auxiliary Lateral Inhibit (ALI) Switch for safety deployment from the ISS. Ali has co-authored technical papers for the TechEdSat structure and payload including the project plan and Safety Data Package, among others.  Her efforts enabled the project to successfully meet both ISS program and Ames Engineering Requirements. Developed, built, tested and certified for flight to the ISS in only 9 months, TechEdSat-1 was the first American CubeSat deployed from the ISS as well as being one of the first CubeSats deployed from the Station overall. TechEdSat-1 completed a life cycle with over 1000 beacon packets and 208 days of service. The TechEdSat-1 deorbited May 5th, 2013.

As a result of TechEdSat-1’s enormous success, an opportunity was presented to develop, build, test and certify TechEdSat-3P which ultimately launched to the ISS in 2013. For this mission, Ali served as a mentor to the other students and engineers as well as performed the role of safety engineer. For TechEdSat-4, launched in 2015, Ali was a radio frequency, safety and system engineer. Currently Ali is working on TES-5 as the quality and system engineer.

Ali is the deputy project manager, liaison and lead for ISS requirements for the Network and Operation Demonstration Satellites (Nodes) mission. This mission was deployed from the ISS in May 16th, 2016.

Developing new technology, Ali currently works with the SOAREX Series team. SOAREXserves as a test bed for a variety of re-entry and supporting technologies for use in automous sample return and other applications. Within the SOAREX team, Ali has multiple engineering roles from designing, building and serving as a testing engineer. She is also the deputy project manager and co-investigator for SOAREX 9 and SOAREX 10 missions. Ali supported the Orion Thermal Protecsion System (TPS) as a S&MA lead for the sensor on the Heat Shield (HS). She oversees the quality and safety of the design, build and testing of the sensor that would be installed in the HS for the next flight back in 2018.

In 2011 Ali was a member of the Plug-n-Play Mission Operations (PPMO) Workshop organizational committee at NASA Ames and helped organize the workshop held at SJSU. In 2013, Ali was on the student committee for the 10th International Planetary Probe Workshop (IPPW-10), which was held at SJSU the week of June 17th 2013.

Sources: (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)

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midearthwritings · 4 years ago

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Could I please get an Lotr and The Hobbit Matchup, of you're still doing them? Thanks so much!

🌱 18 year old Woman // Bisexual // Autistic and Disabled with a bonus Anxiety Disorder

🌱 I have a litany of Chronic Illnesses including Autism, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Depression, Dyscalculia (Dyslexia for Math), Scoliosis, Sleep Apnea, Asthma, a Growth Hormone Deficiency, Insomnia, and a very bad Overbite. I also have a condition where my right leg is physically longer than my left, which causes pain in my hip and right leg, as well as trouble walking. My usual symptoms include Fatigue, Back Pain, Executive Dysfunction (struggle to get tasks done), Difficulty breathing and talking, Very short stature, and difficulties with my balance. I also stim by pacing around in circles and talking to myself.

🌱 I have a serious fear of heights, partially because of my balance issues. It's so bad that I can't even use stairs without holding onto the railing.

🌱 I know a lot of Home Remedies and Superstitions for like no reason. For instance, did you know that Raspberry Tea helps with Menstrual Pain, or that knocking on wood invokes the protection of the tree spirit and that’s why it’s said to give you luck? I don’t know why I know that, but I do.

🌱 Winning a fight is on my bucket list, but it has to be for a good reason. I’m not one to just pick fights for the sake of fighting, and I’m actually pretty conflict-averse due to trauma, so I need to actually have a solid reason for throwing hands. But I’ve always wanted to do it for some reason.

🌱 I really like studying Witchcraft for some reason. The first spell I ever performed was a Healing Spell to help my friend who was sick with Crohn's Disease. Thirty minutes after performing the ritual, I got a text saying he felt a lot better and he was released from the hospital a couple days later, so I guess it must’ve worked. 😁

🌱 My love language is definitely gift giving. I’m pretty cheap, but I’m also an artist, so when push comes to shove I’ll just make something for someone when I like them. I pay very close attention to what people like because it gives me more ideas on how to interact with them. I’m essentially a large, flightless Crow. You were nice, so you get something shiny. But though I like giving gifts to others, I’m not very materialistic at all. I prefer to be practical when it comes to things, and I get very nervous when spending money on myself.

🌱 I’m an avid writer and am actually planning on publishing a book this summer!

🌱 I LOVE going outside and getting messy. Playing in the mud, getting soaked in the rain, I’m the type to go outside and come back home covered in dirt and twigs. It’s just really fun to me.

🌱 I've been told that I'm a very good cook, and I can bake pretty well too.

🌱 I’ve always wanted to be a really good gardener. My dream house is just covered in flowers and plants and such. I want to live in a Greenhouse, basically.

🌱 I have a habit of giggling to myself just by remembering something funny that happened, even if it was a couple years ago. I also laugh when I do something stupid, because I find my flaws and shortcomings funny for the most part. I love to laugh with people, but never at them.

🌱 I know way too much about Spirits and Fae. My favorite book is called ‘The Encyclopedia of Spirits’ and it shows you how to contact and interact with a ton of different deities and spirits, and I’m addicted to reading it. It’s the best.

🌱 I’m basically like a tiny, less-impressive Aragorn. I love travelling on foot, getting messy outside, I was kind of a Horse Girl as a kid ngl, I’ve always wanted to be a knight or king of some sort, chances are that I haven’t bathed in awhile, and I too would pine for a hot elf girl for literal years on end.

🌱 My closest friends say I give off “Dwobbit” vibes. That’s a ½ Dwarf and ½ Hobbit btw. I’m around 4’ 10” tall, I don’t shave, I love crafting and art, I live in the Mountains, I’m tomboyish but I also love gardening and can be a bit of a homebody, I love going barefoot, etc.

🌱 I really love History, Folklore, Mythology and Fairy Tales. My favorite is the Irish myth of Oisín in Tir Na Nog. Look it up if you don’t know it, it’s a fantastic story. But I also appreciate myths from all sorts of different cultures, like the myth of Annapurna in India or the tale of Princess Kaguya in Japan.

🌱 I’m an Aquarius, INFP and 4w5 if that means anything. For reference, characters who are also 4w5 INFPs include Lydia Deetz (Beetlejuice), Wirt (Otgw), Frankenstein’s Monster, Luna Lovegood (HP), Napstablook (Undertale), Erik The Phantom of the Opera, and Celeste from Animal Crossing. That kinda tells you a lot about me, doesn’t it?

🌱 I am naturally very shy and take awhile to open up to people. I also get flustered very easily and tend to avoid social interaction a lot. I’m a huge introvert, but I also really do love meeting interesting people, so I try to talk to them when I have the energy to.

🌱 I have very long Disheveled brown hair, that actually used to be blonde when I was little, so there’s a few lighter patches in there. It's essentially a fluffy mane at this point, but because of my poor hand-eye coordination I never learned how to braid it. I have really pale skin, with lots of moles, freckles and scabs. It’s also warmer out, so I almost certainly have a farmer’s tan. I have very light blue eyes and glasses.

🌱 I have a habit of seeing shadows move out of the corners of my eyes, frequently mistaking them for people or animals, but when I turn to look there’s nothing there. I’ve gotten my eyesight checked multiple times, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary, so it’s either a lack of sleep, or the Fae are getting antsy with me. Probably the former of course, but part of me would like to believe the latter too.

Sorry the description is so long, I can't wait to see my results! Thanks so much, wishing you the best!!

Hey darling! First, wow that was really long! Sorry for taking so long to make it, as I mentioned before, I'm a fucking procrastinator.

Aragorn

For LOTR, I'm pairing you up with Aragorn.

Aragorn had probably loved you for a really really long time.

But he's extremely patient and careful with you, so it took him a while to confess his love.

When he did, it was kind of overwhelming for you, and you were really doubting the whole thing. But again, he was really patient with you.

Aragorn doesn't cover you in gifts to show his love. He shows it by remembering all those little things that make you you.

The two of you can spend hours telling stories and tales to the other. It's your favorite thing to do together.

He loves that you write and always ask to read your work. Although, he never pushes you and respects you when you refuse.

He knows about every single one of your illnesses and makes sure that you always have what you need.

Bilbo Baggins

For the Hobbit, I picked Bilbo.

Bilbo loves you deeply and truly. He thinks all the things that are annoying to others are what make you the most unique being he has ever met.

He thinks listening to you tell tales is more fascinating than reading.

Most of all, he loves when you read to him the stories that you have created.

Sometimes, your illnesses are a bit complicated for him to understand, but he does his best and listens to your needs.

His favorite thing to do with you is cooking. Sometimes, you will even compete over who is the best cook. Although he admitted more than once that you were.

When you are out gardening, he sits outside with you and watches you. He thinks it's beautiful how hard you work to make his garden look so gorgeous.

He is often insecure about losing you. He is scared that he won't be able to provide you with what you need, or won't be able to show you how much he loves you.

As for you, you fear that one day he might grow tired of you.

But the communication in your relationship is great and your insecurities are even washed away by promises of eternal love.

Again, sorry for the wait! I hope you liked it!

#max matchmaker #aragorn #bilbo baggins

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afni-fics · 4 years ago

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Red Robin: In Hindsight - Chapter 1 (In the Present... Memento)

In Hindsight: Chapter 1 (In the Present... Memento) (3266 words) by C_R_Scott Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tim Drake/Tam Fox, Jack Drake/Janet Drake, Janet Drake & Tim Drake, Jack Drake & Tim Drake, Lucius Fox/Tanya Fox, Tim Drake & Tam Fox Characters: Tim Drake, Tam Fox, Janet Drake, Jack Drake, Lucius Fox, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Jason Todd Additional Tags: Tim Drake-centric, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Family Feels, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Childhood Memories, Childhood Sweethearts, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence

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Story Summary:

What if bleeding out in a Middle Eastern hotel room was not the first time Timothy Drake-Wayne and Tamara Fox met? What if they were actually childhood best friends, but life and circumstance forced them apart for years to the point of forgetting each other?

Concept/Prompt: What if Tim Drake was originally raised by his maternal grandmother for the first eight years of his life due to "circumstances" involving his biological parents? What if Tim's grandmother was also the next door neighbor and occasional sitter for Lucius Fox's family?

Chapter Summary: It's another rough night in Gotham City. The Scarecrow is on the loose and the Bats are out in force trying to recapture him. Unfortunately, Red Robin got hit with large dose of fear toxin and had to retreat to a safe place to administer the antidote and wait for it to kick in. The closest safe place just happens to be Tam Fox's apartment.

(A/N: All "In the Present..." events take place post-Red Robin #26)

---

"--ed Robin? Can you hea--"

Tim groaned softly as he slowly clawed his way back into some semblance of consciousness. Almost by reflex, he began going down a silent mental checklist to determine his current situation:

"Uniform, cowl, belts in place... Still Red Robin... Not disarmed... Not disabled... Okay...

"No sounds of combat... City noises muffled... Carpet beneath me... Indoors... Apartment?... So far so good...

"Groggy... Vision blurry... Hearing ok... Movements sluggish... Drugged maybe?... I can work with this..."

"Tim? Are you... alright?"

"And that was my real name... Well shit."

Gingerly, Tim tried to push himself up off the floor. A glance around himself revealed he had been lying amidst what appeared to be the remains of a wooden bookshelf along with its contents and a disturbingly large amount of shattered glass in some unlucky civilian's living room. Then his head turned to the source of the voice that had pulled him back to awareness. A lump rose uncomfortably into his throat.

"Tam?"

Kneeling a yard or so away from him was Tamara Fox, with a nervous wide-eyed expression, clutching an empty auto-injector pen with an orange label that Tim recognized from his own utility belt stash as fear toxin antidote.

Tim felt a spike of panic as he looked into Tam's face. "Oh God!" he exclaimed as he tried get to his feet as quickly as he could. "Are you alright?! Did I hurt you?!" Unfortunately, as soon as he got to his feet, the world pitched sideways and he nearly felt fell back to the floor, were it not for Tam rising to her own feet to help steady him.

"Woah there!" Tam said as she tried to help the unbalanced vigilante stay upright. "I'm fine. Don't worry. I'm ok." Then she glanced around the apartment with a weary sigh. "My living room, on the other hand, not so much."

Tim grimaced as he followed her gaze around the room. Near as he could figure, he could visualize how he must have crashed through the glass balcony door while trying to grapple between buildings, based on the gaping hole letting all the cold Gotham air in from her balcony. Following the shard pattern of the broken glass on the floor, he could see how he must have been flying with some speed and hadn't even been able to slow his descent before crashing, if the evidence of the demolished bookshelf that had been leaning against the wall opposite the balcony and the prominent new aches in his own body was any indication.

"I heard on the news that the Scarecrow was on the loose," Tam said as she tried to ease him to the sofa so he could sit down. "I guess you got hit with fear toxin?"

Tim nodded as he sat down, then pushed back his cowl to reveal his face, savoring the cool air as it hit his skin. "Last thing I remember is trying to get somewhere safe to take the antidote and ride things out," he murmured as he scrubbed his face with his hands. "I thought I was trying to get to a safehouse we have in the area."

Tam sat down on the arm of the sofa, her back to the recovering vigilante, and looked at the empty antidote pen in her hand. "And yet you ended up here..." she mused.

"I'm really, really sorry Tam," Tim apologized as he raked his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. "I don't know what happened or what I was thinking with the fear toxin took hold." He dared to glance at her out of the corner of his eyes. "Are you sure you're alright? I really didn't hurt you?"

Tam shrugged, then glanced back at him out of the corner of her own eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine. Whatever that Scarecrow put in that toxin didn't make you go crazy violent or anything." She looked back at the remains of her bookshelf where she'd found him curled up in a fetal position, disturbingly still and silent. "You... you'd gone completely catatonic." She wrapped her arms around herself tightly. "Nothing I said or did reached you, and for a bit the antidote didn't seem to be working. I thought..." Tam shook her head and got to her feet. "It doesn't matter what I thought. The antidote kicked in finally and you'll be ok now, right?"

"Yeah. I'll be ok." Tim watched sadly as Tam immediately knelt down to gather up some of the books that had been scattered by the destruction of their shelves. As she worked, he made a few mental notes about the effects of the Scarecrow's new fear toxin. The old toxin was known for triggering horrific visions and violent reactions in its victims. This new version, triggering catatonia instead of violence, could potentially be a greater threat against anyone in Gotham's vigilante family seeking to subdue the villain.

Tim ought to have been reaching out to Batman and the rest of his family to warn them about this new variant.

However, he couldn't get his mind off the fact that somewhere in the back of his brain, while Scarecrow's fear toxin was trying to take root, the closest safe place he instinctively tried to go to was Tamara Fox's home... no matter how broken their friendship was right now.

"Here. Let me help," Tim offered as he cautiously got to his feet and tested his balance, which was better than it was earlier.

Tam tried to wave him away, though, as she set a stack of books on the sofa and out of the way. "Don't worry about it," she said in a tense voice as she reached for what looked like an old leather bound book. "It's fine. I'm fine. Shouldn't you be getting ba--"

Whatever she was about to say was cut off abruptly when, upon trying to lift up the book by its spine, about thirty pages full of photographs spilled out all over the floor. Tam could only stare at the mess of her beloved childhood memories scattered at her feet, until she felt hot tears begin to fill her eyes.

"Goddamnit," she snapped softly in frustration, her voice breaking slightly as she closed her eyes tightly. "Well isn't this just a perfect metaphor for my life right now?"

Tim looked and felt absolutely gutted the moment he saw and heard all those photo album pages spill onto the floor. For a moment, he was as frozen in place as Tam, unable to do anything except stare at those pictures, at Tam's precious memories scattered haphazardly around her

However, as Tam sank to the floor with another frustrated sob, clutching the remains of her album tight to her chest. he finally jolted into movement.

"I am so... so sorry Tam," he apologized with deep, sincere regret as he knelt beside her and began to carefully gather up the photo pages. The childhood photographer he once was chided him mercilessly in the back of his mind for being the cause of this damage.

Tam sniffled a little and used her free hand to try and scrub the tears from her eyes. "I know... I know..." she murmured as she recomposed herself, set aside the remains of the album cover, and started collecting some of of the photo pages herself. Between the two of them, it should've taken no time at all to pick up all the pictures.

At least, that's how it should have been.

Though the light in the living room wasn't the greatest, only a single nearby floor lamp close to the sofa provided any illumination, Tim kept pausing every now and then to take closer looks at the images, slowing his progress.

These were all clearly pictures of Tam and her family back when she was a child in and around her childhood home when she was maybe nine or ten years old. Everyone looked happy, or at the very least content. He also recognized a younger Lucius Fox interspersed among the pages as well as who he assumed was Tam's mom, her older sister Tiffany, and her younger brother Luke when he was still a toddler.

They were nice photos full of what looked like warm, happy memories.

So why were they giving him such a strange nagging feeling of deja vu?

Tim noticed the corner of a photo that had been dislodged from its album page. Unlike the other photos in the album which were all standard 4"x6" glossy prints, this one appeared to be more squarish in shape with an obvious white border that was thicker at one end. "A Polaroid?" Tim thought to himself curiously as he tugged the photo out from under the other pages. "I haven't seen one of those in years..."

Then, as Tim got a good look at the photo, his breath caught in his throat.

In the photo a young boy and girl were sitting close together on a wooden porch swing, both smiling brightly on a warm summer day. The girl was hugging the boy, who looked a few years younger, as he appeared to have both arms outstretched in front of him just off the image, as if he had been holding the Polaroid camera to take the picture. On the white section of the photograph right beneath the image are words written in black marker by a childish hand.

"Timber & Tami - July 19, 20XX"

About that moment, Tam noticed the photo in Tim's hand. Her gaze softened. "That's my favorite picture," she said fondly as she reached out to tilt the image slightly her way, though she didn't try to take it from Tim.

"Who... was he?"

Tam couldn't help the sad, nostalgic smile that formed on her lips. "He was my best friend." She sighed softly as she continued reminiscing. "He lived next door to me and was raised by his grandma. We practically grew up together because Nana was always babysitting me while my parents were at work."

She glanced at the photos in her hands, and the ones still on the floor. "He was such a geek about cameras and photography," she chuckled warmly. "I remember, Nana gave him this vintage Polaroid camera for his eighth birthday. He was so excited, you'd think he'd won the lotto. I think... this was the first picture he ever took with it." She glanced at the photos in her hands and still on the floor. "He took most of these other ones too, and he gave me the album for my birthday before--"

"Before?"

Tam sighed. "Before his Nana got sick, and he had to move away."

It took a long minute, but finally Tam noticed Tim was strangely quiet. When she turned her attention from the photos to him, she was startled to see him staring at her with an intense wide-eyed expression she'd never seen in those blue eyes before. For the first time in the year since she'd met him, he looked like he was close to tears.

He looked at her like he was staring at a ghost.

Tam felt a tendril of unease coil in her chest. "Tim? What's wro--"

"Tami?" he whispered to her in a small, vulnerable tone. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion and completely unguarded. "Is it really you?"

At first Tam was confused. She glanced between the Polaroid photo held in Tim's now trembling hand before her gaze drifted back up to his face and looked into eyes that were suddenly more familiar than they'd ever been before.

Suddenly, her world shifted.

Tam's own brown eyes went wide with shock as she tried to stifle a gasp with her hands. Then, slowly, she lowered her fingers from her lips.

"Timber?"

The tears that had been threatening to escape Tim's startled blue eyes finally coursed down his cheeks with Tam's word. There was so much emotion warring on his face, and while his mouth opened and closed, nothing seemed able to come out.

Tim reached out for Tam, who was still frozen in her own silent shock.

But before he could reach her, Tim's communicator began to ping, cutting through the silence between them and making both of them jump. Tim's hand retracted away sharply, as if he'd been burned. After taking a second to compose himself, he reached up to press a button on the communicator in his ear.

"Red here," he said, his voice all business, all Red Robin, but stretched tight to near the point of breaking.

"Thank goodness," Oracle's synthesized voice on the comm crackled to life. "Batman and Robin need backup. Batgirl and Nightwing both got hit with fear toxin, but their trackers haven't moved in several minutes."

Tim rose grimly to his feet and turned toward the doorless balcony. "Crane's got a new variant. Triggers catatonia instead of fight or flight. The current antidote works, but takes longer to kick in." He checked his belts to see how many more doses of antidote he had. "If they're immobile either they took the antidote and we're just waiting for it to take effect, or they went catatonic before they could administer in the first place." He sighed as he pulled out his grapple gun to insert a new cartridge. "Who's closest to my location?"

"Nightwing. Sending you coordinates for both."

"I'll be there soon. Make sure to warn B and Robin about the variant. Red out."

Once the comm was disconnected, Tim bowed his head. When he spoke, his Red Robin tone was nowhere to be heard. "I'm sorry Tam..." he whispered, voice full of regret and longing and... something else neither of them could identify. "I have to go--"

But as he turned to glance back timidly at her, Tim's eyes went wide when he suddenly found himself tightly wrapped up in a pair of soft warm arms. His breath hitched in his chest as he felt, more than heard, Tam sob into his shoulder, "It's you."

Without even thinking, Tim wrapped his arms around Tam, pulling her closer and tucking his own face into the crook of her neck. He held her tighter than he ever had before in this past year. All his emotions felt raw and exposed, but in this moment that was ok.

This was his Tami...

His big sister...

His best friend...

His first--

With a deep, shuddering sigh, Tim pulled back slightly, just enough to speak clearly. "I need to go."

Tam pulled back slowly too, until just their hands were interlaced. Finally, she raised her gaze to meet his. "Be careful," she whispered. The weight of so many other things they wished to say to one another hangs in the space between them, and they both know it.

Tim nodded wordlessly. Then, with painful reluctance, he slipped his fingers from her grasp, pulled his cowl back on launched a grappling line out of Tam's apartment. He spares just one final backward glance, his expression masked almost completely by his cowl, before launching himself into back into the night.

Once Tam can no longer see his silhouette against Gotham's skyline, she shivers as a cold wind cuts through her apartment. As she kneels down again to gather her photos, she pulls out her phone with a free hand.

"Hello?"

"Daddy?"

"Tami? What's wrong?"

At the sound of naked concern in her father's voice, Tam's couldn't hold back the tears as they stream down her face or the way her voice trembled and made her feel ten-years-old and broken-hearted in a way she never thought she'd ever feel again.

"Nothing..? Everything..? I don't know..? Can you pick me up please? Can I come home?"

"Of course. Where are you?"

"The apartment."

"Stay right there, baby. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"I will."

Once the call was ended, Tam's eyes fell on that precious old Polaroid photo. With another sob, she gathered it up and held it close as she cried softly until her father arrived.

#tim drake #tam fox #tim/tam #red robin #fanfiction #wip #rr: in hindsight #batfam #batfamily

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miracul0us-multishipper · 6 years ago

Text

Welcome to the Back (Part 1)

Next Chapter

@a-6-yearold-inside

A Felinette Fanfic where they never changed seats back after Chameleon, Adrien vs Felix in the next parts

- - -

Adrien was a good friend, if you asked him. Not that he had a lot of experience with friendship, but he’d read a lot about it. He could listen well. He could give advice. He was good at bringing out the best in people, at keeping the peace and harmony of the class. Madame Bustier didn’t call him sunshine boy for nothing!

So when Felix Leanne was announced to be their newest student, he figured he was the perfect candidate to welcome him to class. Sure, they hadn’t really gotten along when they’d last met, but maybe Felix had changed in the last year?

“Hi!”, he greeted as soon as he spotted the boy. “I’m Adrien Agreste. We’ve worked together last summer, remember?”

The older blond stilled and eyed him warily. His eyes were eerily colorless; a cool, distant grey. Adrien shivered a little.

“I do” Felix replied after a moment of silence. Then continued to walk towards class.

Struggling to keep up with his long, measured strides, he followed suit.

“You’ve never been to school either, right?” he tried again. “We’ll be in the same class! Madame Bustier is our home teacher, she’ll probably want you to make a short introduction. Do you want to get to know our classmates? I could introduce you!”

Felix kept his eyes straight ahead, his face was devoid of any emotion. Maybe he was shy? Surely, he’d open up sooner or later.

“That appears to be inevitable.”, was his brisk answer, confirming that the new student would need some time to warm up to them.

Alright then. He could do this!

When they entered the classroom, only a few students were already there. They looked up as soon as Felix walked in, his confident posture attracting attention even before he was fully inside.

“Hey, guys!”, Adrien greeted Nino and Alya, who already looked as if she had a million questions to ask their newbie. “This is Felix Leanne! He’s from Great Britain, we modeled together last year.”

Alya jumped up and held out her hand to him, all but squealing in excitement.

“I’m Alya Césaire, from the Ladyblog! I’ve read so much about you, you were the face of Leanne Fashion’s “Lucky Line”! The posters of you in that Ladybug tie were all over Paris!”

She shoved her phone in his face, probably displaying said ad.

“I’m so excited to meet you!”

Felix wrinkled his nose.

“Please take that out of my face.”

“Oh, right!”

“I’m Nino”, her boyfriend followed up, “Nice to meet you, dude! I’m sure you’re gonna love it here.”

One by one, the other students began to crowd around Felix, greeting him and asking about his life. The answers were short, matter-of-fact and a little bit annoyed if you paid enough attention. Chloé threw one look at him and apparently decided it was best not to mess with him.

“Lila’s going to be so happy to meet you!”, Rose said cheerily, catching Adrien’s attention again. She was directly next to Felix, no chance he might have missed that. “She told us all about you, from when she met you at that Fashion Show in London her parents sponsored.”

Felix frowned and opened his mouth, but Adrien beat him to it.

“Let’s not bother him with work details right now!”, he suggested a little too hastily, and probably an octave above his usual tone of voice. “He’s new to school after all, and I’m sure he hears enough about work at home!”

Felix looked at him with raised eye brows, but didn’t press the matter. Adrien sighed with relief. Another day of successfully keeping the peace of this class.

He looked around, searching for missing faces. Kim was sick with the flu, he wouldn’t come today. Sabrina was with Chloé as usual, Marinette was probably late again and Lila should be here any minute now.

As if on cue, the brunette Italian entered the room just as the other students began to go to their places again. With a winning smile and her usual, confident stride she headed for Felix.

“Oh, hello! You’re Felix Leanne, right? I’m Lila Rossi, I’m sort of new myself.”

The tall blond regarded her with hidden suspicion.

“Aha”

Her eyes roamed over his desk and spotted the thermos in his bag.

“I heard you’re from England!” she beamed. “I lived there for a while, my grandparents are famous for their rare teas. Maybe we could go for a cup after school? There’s not that many places where it’s as good as in Britain, but I happen to know one or two.”

The fact that she hadn’t mentioned any Fashion Show in London confirmed Adrien’s assumption that it had been another lie.

Felix eyed her for a moment, then sat down at the last table in the back.

“I hate tea.”, he deadpanned, before taking out the thermos and pouring him a cup of what was obviously coffee without breaking eye contact with Lila. Adrien swore he could see the gears in her head come to screeching halt.

“O-Oh? What a shame” she caught herself. “Then maybe we could-“

“Good Morning, class!”, Madame Bustier interrupted her attempts. Forced to retreat for now, Lila went to her seat next to him and Adrien followed with a nod. During the lesson she wouldn’t have the opportunity to make up another story, which meant for now, crisis was averted. No exposing Lila, no fights, no trouble. He smiled. Another day of perfect school time, just like he’d always imagined it!

He shouldn’t have been so sure of that. It started when Marinette arrived, just in time for saying “present” as Mme Bustier read her name. Since she’d been sitting in the back for a week now, she’d be Felix desk neighbor. He didn’t think anything of it, but Lila shot her a glare that could’ve been both a warning and a threat. Or maybe he’d misinterpreted it? Maybe she’d just been annoyed that Marinette was late again? Must be it.

Still, Madame Bustier didn’t get the chance to start her lesson when Lila stood up and raised her voice.

“Madame, Felix just arrived! He shouldn’t have to sit in the back by himself, does he?”

Adrien wanted to remind her that no, he wasn’t by himself, Marinette was there too, but remembered just in time the last time they had changed the seats. No, it wouldn’t help to speak up now.

Mme Bustier frowned.

“We only changed the seating order last week.”

Lila wasn’t that easy to shake off however.

“Oh, but you have all welcomed me so sweetly when I first arrived. I couldn’t live with myself if I wouldn’t do the same for Felix.”

She looked down.

“If it weren’t for my disability I’d switch with him myself, but...”

Felix coughed.

“I don’t-“

“Oh, we could go to the back!”, Alya volunteered, drowning out whatever Felix had wanted to say, and pulled Nino’s hand up with her. Lila smiled.

“Really? That’s so nice of you guys!”

“Actually-“ Felix tried again but Lila wasn’t done yet.

“Oh, but what about Marinette? We just unseated her last week, we shouldn’t do so again, right? Would you sit with Marinette in the back?”

“Sure!”, Alya beamed and patted Nino on the shoulder in comfort. “We sat together before, too!”

“I-“

“It’s no big deal, really!”

“Madame Bustier!”, Marinette called out of the blue, with enough force to make the entire class jump. Her hands were planted firmly on the desk and her face was grim. He shot her a concerned glance, trying to remind her of her promise. No exposing Lila.

“Yes, Marinette?” the young teacher answerd, looking startled.

“How about”, Marinette said slowly, locking eyes with Mme Bustier, “we offer Felix the chance I didn’t get the last time, and give him a say in this?”

Surprised, she nodded and looked at her latest student.

“O-Of course, yes. Where would you like to sit, Felix?”

The blond teenager sighed, frustrated.

“I am perfectly fine sitting in the back, thank you very much.”

Felix hated school. It was full, it was loud and people just wouldn’t leave him alone. He sighed, remembering the promise he’d made to his mother. She was still in England, but she’d called to make sure he was alright. She wanted him to have this experience, to meet other children and be normal, for a while. It was not like he didn’t appreciate her care! But he really, really wished she would’ve expressed it in other ways. Maybe take him along to one of her incentives or business trip. He was old enough to learn about the company he’d inherit, wasn’t he?

But if it made her happy, he’d try this... school life. He’d make an effort, learn something, and then go back to homeschooling. Preferably sooner than later.

“Present!”, yelled a voice next to him and he looked up. He hadn’t even noticed the girl sliding into the seat next to him, but now she was there. Late, obviously.

He hated unpunctuality.

She smiled at him when she noticed his stare and pushed her book over to him, showing him which page they were at. Otherwise, she didn’t try to interrogate him or make Smalltalk.

Huh. He could appreciate that.

Until that Lila-girl from earlier stood up, he was almost thinking this wouldn’t get so bad after all. But alas, his hopes were shattered once again.

Her repeated attempts at changing the seating were, to his surprise, not shut down by the red-haired teacher. Apparently, he had to get active himself. Great.

He coughed, trying to get their attention.

“I don’t-“

“Oh, we could go to the back!”, the Ladyblog girl, Alya, exclaimed enthusiastically. He blinked. She’d just cut him off. How disrespectful!

Shaking his head, he straightened his back. Maybe she just hadn’t heard him. No need to make a fuss just yet.

“Actually-“ he started again, before being interrupted once again, this time by Lila. His eye twitched.

One more time, he told himself, one more time trying to do it the peaceful way. For Mum. He could still walk out after that.

“I-“ really don’t need to sit in the front, he wanted to say, but his third try was as successful as the other two. He sighed, almost happy. He could go home, finally. Tell Mum he’d tried, but public schools just weren’t his forte. Too unprofessional. Too chaotic. Too...

“Madame Bustier!”, an energetic voice pulled him out of his resignation, just as he was about to pack his bag. It was his desk neighbor, Ms Unpunctual. Could that girl even talk in any volume other than “loud”?

“How about we give Felix the chance I didn’t get, the last time,” she said threateningly slow, and bit bitterly if he wasn’t wrong, “and give him a say in this?”

“Of course” the teacher agreed, apparently remembering that she was supposed to be the authority here. “Where would you like to sit, Felix?”

He sighed.

“I am perfectly fine with sitting in the back, thank you very much!”, he uttered a bit salty.

Lila, frustrated that she was ignored, sat down again and the rest of the class calmed as well.

“You didn’t have to do that”, he clarified to his neighbor as soon as the teacher had turned around. Better make clear that she couldn’t expect any favors or benefits from him. “I’m fully capable of speaking for myself.”

Usually. In a professional environment, at least. He hated having to raise his voice, and apparently, that was the only thing that worked on these savages.

But the girl surprised him yet again by simply shrugging.

“Yeah, I figured. But still.” She looked down, where Lila was currently draping herself all over Agreste. “It can be nice to know someone has your back.”

Maybe he’d imagined it, but she sounded a little bitter at that. He turned back to the teacher, but kept stealing glances at his pigtailed classmate.

He was no stranger to people, not like Agreste had been just a year ago. And other than the younger boy, he didn’t see them through rose colored lenses, and didn’t mind telling them off when they crossed a line. His young age and position as the heir and face of an international fashion empire made him a regular target for people that wanted to profit off of him - his sire included. He couldn’t afford to be as carefree as Adrien, who was constantly monitored by his own terror of a father.

Over the time, Felix had acquired a sixth sense for detecting warning signs of manipulators and people who used others for their own gain. He’d seen them in Lila Rossi, and he’d seen them in his father, but no matter how hard he focused, scrutinized or analyzed... he couldn’t find them in his mysterious classmate.

“I’m Felix”, he eventually whispered, half hoping she wouldn’t hear it. Yet her surprised smile failed to disappoint him, for some reason.

“I’m Marinette. Welcome to the back, I guess.”

- - -

To be continued

#miramu writes #welcome to the back #wttb #miraculous ladybug #mlb #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ml felix #felix leanne #felinette #felinette month #ml felinette #mlb fanfic #felinette fanfic

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bean-boy-clown · 4 years ago

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Does your area have longterm care ombudsmen? You can google your region plus longterm care ombudsmen to find contact info. It sounds like you're in a longterm care setting like a group home or something, and i don't get why they're not helping with laundry or anything! Also, have you been checked for lymphedema if your feet are swelling :( It just seems like staff should be helping you with stuff, maybe the ombudsmen people could help make that happen, it's not just for abuse or anything

• I will start by saying I don't know much about my area because I'm not actually from this state - I moved here in 2017 and was in and out of in-patient and programs for a bit.

• I do live in a group home!!!! They don't pay for our laundry (there's actually a machine downstairs but a staff i trust implied not to use it - not to mention the thought of going in the basement freaks me out)....I go to a laundromat. They don't pay for those kinds of things for example laundry because we have to "learn independence," while living here.

• We also have to pay rent; I get emergency cash benefit (it's like food stamps except I can take $$$$ off the card to put on my debit card)....I get $320 a month and our rent is supposed to be 75% of our income (legally they have to leave us with at least $200) - I get $200 a month. It's all really complicated to be honest with y'all.

• I am unable to work at the moment - it's a lot to explain but in short: i was traumatized and lowkey abused? at one my job and had to leave then and i worked somewhere else where I'd have panic attacks/anxiety attacks in the bathroom - suffer through my paranoia and severe anxiety on the sales floor which really fucked me up. I can't handle that stress right now, my mental feels so fragile and disables me.

• I struggle in public and usually need someone with me for support. I feel extremely vulnerable too because I will go out of my way most often to help others which does cause paranoia. I do have flashbacks often, zone out/walk around totally out of it or the other extreme severely scared/anxious/paranoid and in my head.

• They provide food here but it usually goes bad because other residents don't save it properly and staff are "supposed" to make us one meal at night but that doesn't happen regularly. I am capable of cooking but am usually really low energy to cook everyday.

• But they provide wifi, air conditioning in your room for summer, and when you first move in they give you a dresser, bedside table, and a bed. The beds are very cheap but honestly I'm just glad to have one and live here.

• This is supposed to be a two year living situation. Supposedly DMH is cracking down on people's time here or so I've been told. After that two years you're expected to find housing through emergency housing or the program provides you an apartment.

• Also about my feet swelling - I have an uncontrolled thyroid? I can't remember how my doctor worded it. All I know is I have thyroid problems and my feet swell alot to the point where even socks are uncomfortable.

☆• Sorry for such a long response •☆

☆• I genuinely appreciate any and all support with this stuff (whether it be listening to me/us talking about it/sharing experiences and etc)....

☆• As it is disability awareness month - I will be completely open....I have an invisible disability, my mental health & other things disables me and while it's difficult to cope - talking with other disabled folks and opening up has really helped.

☆• Don't be afraid to send me an ask - anon or not!!!! I don't always have the spoons to answer right away but I will try my best to do so.

☆• Be well and be safe.

~ Garfie?Beabs/Beans 💖🧚🏻‍♂️

#long post #asks #anons #beabs babbles

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soheila-1996 · 5 years ago

Text

My story- Part Thirteen

I have epilepsy. This details my seizures, I can’t speak for everyone, everyone’s seizures/ experiences are different. This is graphic. Seizures are messy. They aren’t fun and it felt wrong to make it out to be cute when they really aren’t. Pretty much all the things that happen in the plot have happened to me. Well, I’m not married to a king or live in a palace so…there’s that but everything else is accurate. There may be some jokes about it here because I do joke about it sometimes. It makes me more comfortable and I find it helps relax everyone around me. I’m also writing about it because there really aren’t that many fics written about it and I think it’s important to shine light on it.

Any feedback is really appreciated! :)

Tags: @kacie-0156 @texaskitten30, @cordonianroyalty, @kingliam2019 , @cordonia-gothqueen, @bobasheebaby @losingbraincellseveryday @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @jared2612 @flutistbyday2020 @debramcg1106 @anotherbeingsworld @leaharhys @cordoniaqueensworld @bascmve01

Paring: Liam and Riley

Warnings: SUICIDE ATTEMPT, mention of miscarriage.

Word count: 5,316

Catch up here

This one again is super personal to me. They all are personal in one way or another but this one and the one about my miscarriage are extremely personal.

I really debated writing this in but writing is such an amazing outlet. I was in such a dark place when I lost the baby last year and I didn’t see a way out so I did things that I’m not proud of. I tried to take my own life and now i’m so beyond happy that my attempt was unsuccessful, however, everything has just gone really wrong over the last few weeks and I’ve just started feeling really down again. Writing about my feelings is kind of helping me get out of this funk.

(Riley’s POV)

It’s now the next morning since I arrived back from the hospital. Liam, my parents and my brother had tried to get me to come out of my room but I was being a rebellious teenager and refused to open the door. I think Liam has slept in the spare room. We live in a literal palace so there’s plenty of space for him to stay. I don’t think any of them can understand how I’m feeling. I know that everyone has days when they feel down and a little depressed but I feel like this all the time. I’m numb. I go through my day like a robot. Physically I’m here but mentally I’m a million miles away. I just don’t feel anything anymore.

Everyday just blends in together until it makes no sense anymore. I feel like I’m going crazy. My memory has just gone; I don't even remember what I had for breakfast...If I had breakfast at all that is. I hate this so much.

I’ve taken my medication for the first time in a while earlier this morning after a heated debate with my parents. I struggle to see how any of them think that taking a few pills is going to do anything. It should stop the seizures but it’s not going to change how I feel.

I feel suffocated. I don’t need to be treated like I’m a baby. I’m just...I’m tired. Physically, mentally, emotionally, I’m just so exhausted all the time. I am sick of faking being happy; it doesn't work.

Losing the baby was just my breaking point and I’m not sure there’s any coming back from it. I don’t want to come back from it. Why would I want to carry on knowing that the rest of my life will be spent in fear of a seizure, that I might not be able to give my husband the one thing he wants more than anything, or with the possibility that I’ll get out of this hole and in a short while end up back here again?

I just want it to stop.

“Why do you keep looking at me?” I ask, bitterly. I’m sitting on the couch in silence with the rest of my family. I can feel Josh’s eyes on me. I turn to look at him as he averts his gaze. “If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

“Just talk to us, Ri,” my brother encouraged.

“About? I told you last night all you need to know. I’ve fucked everything up,” I say, raising my voice as I stand up.

“No, you haven't,” Josh insists.

I shake my head and let out a frustrated groan. When are they going to understand that telling me that everything is fine, that I didn’t fuck up isn't helping? It goes in one ear and out the other. I look back to Josh. “Why are you here, Josh? Who invited you?”

This isn't me. I’m not mean. I’m not like this. I love my brother, growing up he was my best friend but I just don’t care anymore.

“I don’t need my big brother to come and save the day. I’m an adult!” I yell. I’m so easily agitated. Maybe that’s down to the lack of sleep...I don’t know. “And you!” I yell as I turn my full attention to my husband. “You only care because it makes you look like a good person, doesn't it? Lovely, kind Liam married the girl with a disability!”

He looks stunned...maybe a little hurt even. Liam opens his mouth to speak but obviously decides against it. “H-how can you say that?”

“Because it’s true,” I shrug. Nobody says anything to object and in my head they’re just confirming it. It wouldn’t be the first time somebody has used me and my disorder to make themselves look like a better person.

Liam gets to his feet and attempts to step towards me. I hold up a hand to stop him. “Just leave me alone,” I command.

I move past him, grab my phone off the coffee table then I leave the apartment. I need to just be away from everyone.

I need some space.

Jacob and I have been getting particularly closer over the last few weeks. He had visited me a couple times while in the hospital and had been coming over after school. I’m still not back but my parents have agreed to let Jacob, Luna and a couple of my other friends come over.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my siblings and parents but I’m starting to get a little sick of being stuck with them all day. The house has currently been chaotic- Josh is moving out, he’s been saying this for a couple years though, to be fair he had actually moved out with his girlfriend but they had broken up. It was rather tragic actually. He really loved it. Casey is also about to move out and to Boston apparently.

Jacob and I are snuggled up on the couch, blanket draped over our legs, despite the fact it’s the middle of the summer in NYC. Although I’ve got the AC on high enough that at least we’re not dripping with sweat as we cuddle.

Sitting inside is not the ideal thing to do on such a beautiful day however, sometimes, much like now the heat has been known to cause more seizures. I don’t mind sitting inside though; I’m not really a fan of the sun, I burn really easily. That might possible be now to me being a ginger- the sun hates me.

Jacob is just amazing. Since he found out about my epilepsy he has been amazing. He makes sure that I’m on my side and helps me wake up when the seizure ends. Obviously, epilepsy is a big thing to deal with when you actually have it but it’s also a big thing for the people are you too but Jacob doesn’t seem bothered by it or is overly worried. It’s nice and refreshing to have somebody who isn’t constantly worried, however, we haven't really discussed it so he doesn’t know much about it.

We spend a little while longer watching celebrity masterchef- Jacob is from the UK and had introduced me to the show a little while ago as we talk about what it's like back in England. It’s nice learning about where he’s from. He’s lived in the States for a few years now but still has a very, very British accent.

“What triggers them?” Jacob asks, breaking the comfortable silence between us both. I look up to him with a raised eyebrow. “Your seizures. What triggers them?”

I clear my throat, thinking about what I'm going to say before I speak normally makes me stutter a little less. “Q-quite a few t-things. N-not taking m-my medication, sleep d-d-deprivation, s-stress, if I get t-too overwhelmed can t-trigger them, if I d-don't eat can s-sometimes cause them or if I get t-too hot.” I explain, internally cringing at how much I just stuttered. Speech therapy it helping, it’s not as bad as it used to be but it’s nowhere near back to how it was before. He nods. “W-When I-I was younger hot showers sometimes triggered them or caused an aura,” I add, “I-it doesn't really happen anymore. I-i-It’s a m-minefield s-s-sometimes.”

“Aura?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I nod, “N-not like a-a s-s-spiritual one. It's what t-t-the feeling you get before a s-s-seizure is c-called.”

“And you get that every time you’re about to have a seizure?”

“M-m-most of the time. Occasionally they just k-kinda happen but n-n-normally before a grand mal s-seizure I will. W-when I have absences they just happen b-but they’re m-much e-easier t-to recover from. They happen a-and then i-I’m fine s-straight away,” I explain.

“Absence?” he asks. It dawns on me that he really doesn't know much about my seizures or seizures in general other than the basic first aid while it’s actually happening.

I turn around to face him and bring my legs under me. I take some time to think about my sentence before I speak. “Yeah, there’s different types of s-s-seizures,” I tell him, “Grand m-mal s-seizures are the m-most r-recognisable s-seizure; it’s the m-most c-c-common one people think about but then there’s a few others. I have absence seizures which is when I kinda just s-stare off into space for a couple s-seconds. I’ve also had a couple m-m-myoclonic seizures too.”

“What’s that?”

“It n-normally happens in n-both arms but not always, your m-mouth can twitch and your jaw can jerk. It can happen to the head and neck too but the person is fully aware of what’s happening. They’re really scary- all types of seizures are.”

We talked for a little while longer about my epilepsy and eventually changed the subject to something a little happier. I was engrossed in our conversation when my stomach rolled.

Not now.

I took in a deep breath as I tried to get rid of the nausea. It doesn’t go away and my arm starts to tingle. “J-Jake, i-it might happen again,” I told him, panicked- this never gets easier.

He peeled his gaze off the tv and turned to me. “Ri, you had one this morning. Are you sure this is okay?” He asks me with concern.

It’s true I had one this morning but unfortunately my brain doesn’t really care about if I've already had one today. I’ve learned that it’s going to do whatever it wants and that I have no say in it.

Jacob helps me off the couch and onto the floor. This one is coming on really, really quickly. I don’t remember anything anymore; nothing makes sense. Basically, as soon as I’m laying down on the floor I’m consumed by blackness.

I’m now outside after storming off. Taking a walk through the palace grounds often helps me to clear my head. I’m head to the garden maze- that’s my favourite place. The place I can go to and just clear my head and attempt to make sense of everything.

Everything is a mess. Why can’t I just open up to people? Why can’t I be honest with people about how I’m feeling? There’s thick dark grey clouds looming over me. It’s going to rain. Great. Even the weather seems to be in sync to how I’m feeling.

I want to be able to open up. I want to stop feeling like this but do I deserve to feel better? I don’t think I do.

Ben constantly made me feel like shit and so did all his friends. My teenage years especially were made up of people telling me that I’m worthless or should’ve died and now it’s made up of having everything that I want so incredibly badly taken away from me.

Is there any point to any of this anymore? I can’t seem to find one.

Josh, my mom and dad, Liam, my friends all ask me if i’m okay and I say i’m fine. It’s a habit. I tell them that I’m okay while I’m screaming on the inside that I’m not; praying that they’ll continue to push me enough so I finally break and tell them...but they don’t. They think giving me space and time is helping me but while I’m alone I just dig myself a deeper hole; one that I’m never going to be able to escape from.

Every time they leave me alone it's like they’re putting me back into a cell, all by myself, alone with these crippling thoughts. My mind is a prison and I’m never getting out.

I continue to walk for a little while longer. It’s cold and I can feel the rain lightly starting to fall but I don’t want to go back. Not yet.

I can feel the salty tears streaming down my cheeks but I don’t wipe them away. What’s the point? They’ll just soon be replaced with more.

My family, my friends, my husband...they hate me don’t they? I snapped at Josh, at Liam...I- I suddenly come to a halt when my stomach rolls and I feel that all too familiar feeling again.

My arm is beginning to tingle, everything is growing more and more confusing. The one thing I know is that I want my husband. I want Liam.

Why was I so mean to him? He was only trying to help.

He’s going to be even more angry at me after this. I can’t tell him; he’ll be mad. I think for a second. There’s one other person that won’t be mad at me...

Casey- my doctor sister.

I retrieved my phone from my back pocket, nearly dropping it onto the floor in the process. I clumsily find her contact and type out a barely coherent text.

Me: Im goins to hsve a seizure

Even auto-correct can’t help me. The device in my hand makes a sound just seconds later as a reply comes in.

Casey: Like right now?

My vision is starting to blur and I know longer know how to respond to my sister. Nothing makes sense.

The device starts to vibrate and sound comes from it too. I fumble with it and manage to answer.

“Hello?” I asked, my voice slurred. I try to hold the device to my ear but coordination is not something I possess right now so it rests on my cheek. I’m sure this isn’t right.

“Ri?” My sister’s concerned voice sounded through the device, “Where are you?”

“I..”

“Where’s Liam, Ri? What’s going on?” She sounds serious.

“He doesn’t w-want t-to,” I stutter. I can feel the tears starting to prick at my eyes.

“He’s mad,” I slur.

“Where are you?”

“O-outside,” I stutter.

“Can you lay down on your side for me?” She directs me gently. I comply and lower myself down onto the wet grass and lay on my side. I can feel something hitting me...like rain.

“He’s mad,” I whisper. That’s all I know; Liam’s mad at me and won’t want to help me.

“He still wants to help you,” She told me but I don’t believe her. “Riley, I need you to stay on your side for me, okay? I’m going to call Liam.” I think she’s hung up I can’t hear her anymore.

I close my eyes; feeling my body be covered in goosebumps as the freezing cold rain hammers down. “H-He’s m-m-mad at m-me.” That’s the last thought I have, the last thing I can say before the world goes black.

(Drake's POV)

I’m out on my morning run on the way back to the palace now. Rain has started to pour and the crisp air has started to sting at my exposed arms, legs and face.

I’m jogging along the path on the way back to the palace when I notice somebody laying on the grass. I slow down a little and change direction to head over.

As I get closer I realise that it’s Riley so pick up my jog. I finally reach her and kneel down beside her. I lean over her slightly to look at her face, her eyes are closed and a little blood is pooling out of her mouth. Without thinking, I wipe it away and onto my black shorts. I then brush hair away from her face. My hand brushes against her skin- she’s freezing. Based on the fact that the blood is still wet I concluded that the seizure must’ve stopped really recently so I lift her up into my arms and head back inside.

As I enter the palace, I see Liam walking down the grand staircase. I see tell by the expression he’s got on his face that’s her scared and panicked. He visibly relaxes when he see’s us. Liam hurries down the rest of the steps and over to us.

“Is she okay?” Liam asked, his voice wavers ever so slightly.

I don’t really know the answer to that question though. I mean, I’m only guessing she had a seizure based on how I found her. I shrug, “I-I just found her outside and- “

“Her sister just called me,” Liam told me, “Casey said that Riley thought she’s going to have a seizure.” Liam held out his arms to me and I gently place Riley in his arms. “She’s freezing.”

We head away from any prying eyes of any of the staff into a nearby drawing room. Liam gently places her down on the floor on her side and takes a blanket off the couch and lays it over her. He then kneels down beside her and slips her jacket, tossing it carelessly to the side. He then slips off her soaking wet shoes and socks, discarding of them in the same way.

“Where was she?” Liam asked as I perched on couch.

“Near the entrance to the maze.” Liam nods and I can sense there’s something going on. Is that any of my business though? Probably not but I can see that whatever is happening, what ever happened is starting to take a toll on him.

He looks like he hasn’t slept. I can see that he’s been crying but his red-rimmed eyes. I’ve never seen him look so..broken before.

“What’s going on, Li?”

I’ve never seen him life this and this has me feeling a little panicky. Liam clear wants to cry, his eyes are welling up to the brim but he’s holding it in. He doesn’t take his gaze off of her as he continues running his fingers through her damp hair.

“She called Casey because,” Liam pauses, his voice cracking, “Because she was afraid to tell me, that I would be mad,” He told me, avoiding my question.

“You know she’s not herself when she’s like this.” I try to reason, “She was just confused, Li.”

Liam doesn’t say anything and I can take the hint that he doesn’t want to talk about it. Riley’s actions have hurt him- that much is obvious.

It’s a couple minutes later when Riley’s eyes start to flutter. I get to my feet and clear my throat to get my friends attention.

“I’ll leave you guys to it.” Liam gives me an appreciative nod as I take my leave.

(Riley’s POV)

The first thing I notice is the feeling of cold, wet clothes clinging to my body. Goosebumps spread across my skin. I open my eyes fully and notice a hand laying in front of me.

... Where am I?

I soon realise that the hand is mine as i lift a finger. It’s almost like I’m underwater, my hearing is muffled but I can just about hear something....maybe someone....shifting on the floor next to me?

..What’s happening?

I can feel myself beginning to panic. My heart is pounding. Everything seems loud. Why? It’s almost like it’s reverberating as a wall of sound hits my ears. It takes me some time to realise that the only sound other than my breathing and heart beat is a voice? It’s saying words that I don’t understand in my confusion. They’re speaking a language that makes no sense to me right now.

I make my best effort to move away but I barely shift an inch. I’m really trying to escape but I can’t. Why can’t I move? A helpless, scared cry escapes my mouth. I feel terrified as I see the figure move in front of me.

As they shift into my line of vision, their features become clear and the words they’re speaking, the strange language becomes less jumbled and more coherent.

“Love, love come on it’s alright. It’s over now, love. I’m here.” I realise that I know how that voice belongs to. That face.

There’s something about it that feels familiar, safe even. I look up at him, a strand on dirty blonde hair falls over his face that he soon pushes away. “Hey, Riley,” he says, gently. I can see his mouth moving but I’m still not sure who the man is. “It’s Liam.”

Liam- that name….I know that name I realise.

Liam.

I exhale and relax into the hard floor beneath me. He seems to notice my more relax body language and shifts closer to me.

“You had a seizure,” he explains to me. I wrinkle my eyebrows in confusion, the last thing I remember was walking outside. h-how did I end up in here? “Drake brought you inside. It was raining and you were freezing.”

I nod and with his help, I manage to sit myself up. I wipe my mouth, it comes away with a red substance on the back. I’m still a little out of it and I don’t realise that it’s blood.

Everything begins to come back to me- I snapped at Liam. He’s angry at me, he’s upset with me. I accused him of something I know that he’d never do. I look up at him but I can’t read him. He’s angry.

He’s so mad.

My eyes begin to well up. It’s made such a mess out of everything, he’s mad at me, he doesn't love me anymore, he doesn’t want to be with me anymore. I shift away from him and he looks almost surprised. Is that worry flashing across his face?

No, no, it can’t be. He’s mad.

“You’re okay, Love,” He tells me. He tries to reach out to me to pull me back over but I continue to shift away, I nearly topple over- I still don’t have full control over everything just yet “You’re okay, Riley,” he tries again, “Everything’s okay.”

It’s not. Nothing is okay. Nothing is ever going to be okay. I’ve made such a colossal mess of everything.

I shake my head at him as tear slips down my cheek. Liam instinctively reaches out to try and brush it away but I move away from him.

I look away from him to take in my surroundings. I looked down realising I’m now missing my jacket, shoes and socks and a blanket is down draped over me. I think back to what Liam had said as some of the puzzle pieces slot back into place. It was raining...I remember that. At least now I under why my clothes are soaking wet.

“Ri,” Liam calls, moving closer to me. I scoot away from him once again. His face falls and I’m pretty sure I can now see his eyes starting to well up. “Please.” He sounds defeated. He sounds scared and upset and that’s all my fault.

I look up at him to see some tears trickle down his face. I want to cry to but why should I be allowed to feel upset? I caused this. This is my doing. I’ve wrecked everything single-handedly.

This is the first time that I’ve really looked at me. There’s big bags under both his eyes, his hair is unkempt, he even looks as if he’s lost a little weight, there’s stubble on his usually clean shaven face.

I’ve broken him. I’ve broken the man that I’m supposed to love and protect.

** It’s a couple hours later. It’s night now and I’ve been tossing and turning in this bed for what seems like hours. Liam and i had both returned to our quarter after that incident. I had headed to bed and had fallen asleep soon after only to wake a short time later and had spent the rest of the day laying in bed staring at the ceiling. I must’ve fallen back into my slumber at some point because I woke back up to find myself wrapped in my husbands arms and him sleeping soundly beside me. That all happens hours earlier though and i still haven’t been able to drift back off enough then I’m exhausted.

It’s hard to remember a time when I didn't feel utterly useless and hopeless. It amazes me how I’ve somehow managed to convince people that I’m okay for years. How I’ve some how managed to convince my family and friends that I’m okay with a fake smile when they are the people who are supposed to know me better than anyone; the people who are supposed to call me out on my bullshit.

Liam is sleeping beside me so I quietly got out of the end and headed down the hall to our home study. I close the door half way and I switch on the desk lamp that sits on the corner of the desk. I plop down into the seat behind the desk and open the notebook sitting in the middle and pick up a pen out of the pit.

Dear Liam,

First things first, this isn't your fault. I need you to know that. I know that you’ll blame yourself but I don’t want you to.

I’m not really sure what to say or how to explain this to you.

Everything is just so hard. Most of the time, I’m able to handle it and keep going with my life without my daily routine being affected too much but not anymore. I’m stuck in possibly the worst depressive episode that I’ve ever been in and I just don’t see a way out, Li.

I know that I should just talk to you but when I try there’s a voice at the back of my mind screaming at me that I’m nothing but a burden to you, my parents, our friends. I’m not sure when I started feeling like this. At some point everything started to feel pointless, I'm just not sure when.

You’ve made me so happy, Liam. I love you. I love that since you found out about my epilepsy you haven’t treated me like a kid or let it define our relationship. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you, I’m sorry that I scare you every time it happens. I’m sorry that I lost our baby. I’m sorry that I’ve shut down and pushed you away since it happened. I’m sorry that I’m not the woman that you married or at least I don’t feel like her anymore.

There’s not one reason why I’m doing this. There isn't a clear explanation. So many things have contributed to this but none of them are your fault. If I were to try and explain this feeling to you or my parents or anyone; you’d all say something along the lines of ‘it’ll get better’ ‘this is a long term solution for a short term problem’ or ‘ You’ve still got your entire life ahead of you’- the problem is that I don’t want it. There’s nothing more to it. I just don’t want to be here anymore. It's all just too hard.

I’m sorry; I know this will hurt you for a short while but you’ll move on. You’ll be okay. You’ll be amazing. I promise. I know I have no right to ask anything of you right now but...be happy. That’s all I want.

I love you.

Goodbye, Liam .

I place down the pen and look down at my letter. There’s a couple tears stains on it now but none of the words have been smudged.

I carefully tear out the page from the notebook and get to my feet. I quietly pad down that hall to our bedroom; Liam is thankfully still asleep. I stay in the doorway for a few minutes watching him sleep. In a short few hours he’ll wake up and I’ll be gone.

I place the note down on my bedside table then enter the bathroom that’s conjoined to our bedroom. I quietly closed the door and headed over the sink counter top.

I sniffle and wipe at both my nose and eyes with the sleeve of my hoodie. I look at my reflection; I look dead already. I don’t look like me...like a human. I don’t recognise myself at all anymore.

I glance away from the mirror and caught sight of the little muti-coloured pill containers just in front of me. It’s like it's screaming out my name, telling me to just down them all and it’ll be over. Take the pills and not wake back up. There’s not a doubt in my mind; I just want it all to stop. I can’t do this anymore- I don't want to. I can’t.

If I do it, Liam will be happy that he won’t have to worry about me anymore. No one will have to spend time and energy worrying about me anymore.

I picked up the container and popped open each little compartment and tipped them into my hand. A couple of them roll out of my hand on fall to the floor but there’s enough in my hand to do the job already.

I placed them into my mouth and swallowed them dry. I cough as they nearly get stuck going down my throat. I’m not sure how I feel right now. It’s an indescribable feeling that I can’t quite explain.

I know that It’ll soon be over, I thought I would feel relief but I...I’m scared. I still feel relief because I know that this’ll all be over soon but I’m not so sure that this was the best decision.

I feel regret for a brief moment before I remember why I’m doing this and that feeling ebbs away. This is right decision- I’m positive.

It’s a couple minutes later when I’m startled when I hear someone knocking on the door. I freeze and turn to slowly look at it.

“Riley? Honey, open the door.” That’s my mom. Why does she want? How does she even know it’s me. “Ri, you’ve been in here a long time. Please open the door, so I know you’re okay. Please?”

I forgot she was an night owl- she must’ve been in the living room or something and saw me come in here.

“I- I’m a little busy right now,” I called back. I just hope she’ll buy that and leave me alone. She doesn't need to see this.

Shit- I forget someone will come in here when it’s over and find me. I hadn’t thought of that.

I hear a brief commotion… more voices….more people are outside. Someone bangs on the door. “Riley, open the door.”

That’s Liam. Shit.

I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror. My skin is pale and beads of sweat are now forming on my forehead.

I don’t feel so good.

I wave my hands in front face to try and cool myself down. I’m so hot.

“Ri, It’s dad, open the door,” My dad pleads, “Honey, please open the door.”

I think someone just rammed into the door. It happens again and the door flies open, the frame splintering. Liam is the first person I see...kind of , my vision is starting to blur. I sway back and forth, I feel so out of it.

“What did you do?!” my dad yells. Somebody is holding me up, I can feel someones arms wrapped around my waist. I think it’s Liam.

I’m dizzy.

I hear my mom let out a sob. “Riley!”

The voices around me, the terrified screams of my family don’t register. I stumble back into my husband’s chest. My knees buckle and I’m vaguely aware of being lowered down onto the floor.

I’m barely aware of what’s going on around me, the flurry of people, nothing makes any sense. All I know is that I don’t feel good and I’m scared.

I’m trying to pay attention to what’s happening but I’m tired. I’m so tired and sleep is calling my name. My eyes flutter shut and I’m consumed by darkness.

#my story #tw sucidal thoughts #tw suicide #tw seizure #tw overdose #tw mention of miscarriage #the royal romance #trr #epilepsy #tw; depression #trr choices #choices #liam x riley #soheila-1996 writes

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solest · 4 years ago

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This will be yet another mental health post, but I won't put it under a cut this time because a) I'm on mobile and don't know how to do it here and b) yes, friends might read this. I will eben tag this and try not to feel guilty for being an attention whore by doing so. This will be longer I guess, so sorry if you have to scroll through because of a).

I thought I would have stagnated. I went to a psychosomatic clinic this summer and felt like it had not helped at all. I tried to put myself out there again and had a good moment and an immediate throwback in more than one ways. But now I'm lying here, crying over videos I see or stories I read about certain mental health things and for the first time I can accept that what I read is applying to me. I knew before, but now I accept.

I have a trauma from school and bullying. It still feels weird to say it, because I always thought that Trauma had to be something big, something life threatening and not a shitty teacher and a bunch of kids you knew since you were 3, who turned on you all of a sudden. I studied social work, took child care and protection classes, but the Traumas that were discussed there were always cases of severe violence, abuse, neglect and so on. No one ever told me that things that don't seem so threatening can stick to you and change how you react for such a long time.

I've been told by three or four therapists by now that what vi experienced was trauma, but only recently therapists were using actual methods for this on me. I've been a lively and adventurous kid until second grade. I had a math teacher who was hysterical, got emotional outbursts, screamed at us and got physical. This was known, my brothers who's six years older had her as well.

I remember her screaming at us, especially me. I've never been a math genius but this woman managed that I developed a solid fear of maths. I clearly remember her pulling my hair in front of the class, because I did not know what 7x7 was. To this day, I forgot simple formulas, my mind goes blank if too much math is involved and I'm slow calculating in my head. I started to emotionally shut down and burst into tears when doing maths homework. I was 7.

When I got into third grade, we had a maths test at the very beginning of the year and I failed it miserably. I remember I was devesrated and I link the beginning of my bullying with it and just remembered why. I got an emotional outburst. I screamed, I cried I felt helpless and lost and it was too extreme a reaction to a failed test for all around me. I now know that it was a stress response to what I had experienced before and what I linked to it. I feared to get my hair pulled again, to be screamed at. But this odd behavior only made the other kids frown on me and trying to make me this upset again., which resulted in me not having friends and not understanding why people I knew since kindergarten and who were perfectly fine with me some months ago could be so cruel.

And just some weeks ago, I saw a video on how trauma comes to be. It isn't the severity, but the surprise that shake our core beliefs. I might have a genetic disposition to anxiety disorders, which might have made it "easier" to be shaken by what happened, but that's not the sole reason it affscted me like it did. Another video stated that trauma is the way we react to what happens. This firstly made me think "Oh, so you're an over dramatic bitch that was so startled by such a thing that you developed a trauma. How pathetic". How dare I think this about myself.

The way I experienced it is valid. It did what it did to me and I can't change that. Maybe I'm too sensitive, but I can't go back and tell this my sobbing 7 yo self. I lost all my adventurous attitude. I cried a lot and developed a general anxiety disorder that was only diagnosed when I was 21. I was shamed and frowned upon my overly sensitive and emotional reactions, and as the manifestations of my GAD, mostly extreme nausea. All of this only made me hate myself more and more. People said I'm weird, not normal, mentally disabled and I believed them. I tried to please them all, to just not be alone and laughed at anymore. I'm well aware that there are people with far more severe and terrible stories, but this is mine and I can't change either.

My parents tried best their could, but looking back a proper therapy as a child might have helped me. Instead I wasn't doing good in school, because stress let me break down completely. I had anxiety when doing tests and exams, a high perfectionism I'm still not able to act upon though. My parents had not been the cause for all this and tried to help as best they could, but the damage was done.

And still, parts of this personality I had before the trauma was still there, though I felt like I had to hide it, otherwise people would reject me for who I am. I missed out on much, simply because I did not grève the mental strength to try, fearing my peers would not accept me.

My self esteem is pretty low most of the times still, but somehow I'm now at a point where I can look back on this stuff and say:

"This was messed up. There's nothing you could have done better or to prevent it. The teacher should not have acted like this. Adults should have protected you and take your desperation seriously. The other kids, no matter their own awful experiences were not entitled to treat you like shit. You're réactions are not over the top, they were cries for help. You did not deserve this, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. And if I could turn back in time, I would come to your aid and kick their arses."

I wasted so much time hating myself. I might not be perfect, no one is, but I'm okay. I'm enough. I don't have to be outstanding at something to be worth it, I already am, by merely existing. I'm worthy of love. I'm worthy of respect. I might have had a lot of help and I might took longer than most around ne, but I accomplished things. Things people like the math Teacher or stupid parents of stupid classmates told me I never will.

I got my high-school diploma. I studied. It took me 6 instead of 3 years for a Bachelor's degree, but I was experiencing flashback anxiety because it reminded me if school and I had to stay at home for one whole year, because I was so deep into anxiety and depression. And I made it.

I'm the first one with an academic degree in my whole family. Despite feeling like shit and thinking I can do nothing, I decided to pull through. The scores I had on papers do not define how professional I am, because I had to write them with severe panic attacks and procrastination problems.

I had long and stable relationships. I learned to drive. I figured I'm Bi, came out and nothing terrible happened. I went to Japan, with my girlfriend at the time for two months, just the two of us. I moved out and lived with another person. I quit a toxic job, because I knew it was toxic. I made friends.

Writing this down does not come easy, but I'm doing it right now. Being able to admit my successes is a huge step. I'm currently experiencing something like a second adolescents, and I think that's because I finally understand that I have to learn what I really am, what I want. I might overcompensate but that's okay. After 13 years of therapy and meds, and a noch most time without much help in this regard I'm allowed to do so.

I will not be loved by everyone and that's okay, because it means I don't have to love everyone in return. People do like me for what I am, even if it's hard to grasp. I'm not too old for things with 33 and I'm allowed to like "childish" stuff and it does not make me less of an adult. I deserve happiness and to cut toxic people out of my life. I will find a new job and it's okay if I feel like I don't know anything, I'm not dumb and I can learn quick.

I'm more than my mental illness, it does not define me completely.

#depression #anxiety #anxiety disorder #mental health

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secretlyatargaryen · 5 years ago

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Tyrion and Zuko: Never Forget Who You Are

This is part three of a meta comparing these two characters. Read part one here and part two here.

One of the defining moments for both of these characters is when they are talking to a younger character that they relate to who is on the opposite side as them, but who will later become a friend.

Tyrion to Jon:

"Fourteen, and you're taller than I will ever be. [...] I will never make a swordsman. Had I been born a peasant, they might have left me out to die, or sold me to some slaver's grotesquerie. Alas, I was born a Lannister of Casterly Rock, and the grotesqueries are all the poorer. Things are expected of me. [...] I must do my part for the honor of my House, wouldn't you agree? Yet how? [...] I have a realistic grasp of my own strengths and weaknesses. My mind is my weapon. My brother has his sword, King Robert has his warhammer, and I have my mind … “

and Zuko to Aang:

You're like my sister. Everything always came easy to her. She's a firebending prodigy, and everyone adores her. My father says she was born lucky; he says I was lucky to be born. I need don't need luck, though. I don't want it. I've always had to struggle and fight, and that's made me strong. That's made me who I am.

Even at this early stage in these characters’ stories, where they are still very much indoctrinated into their family’s BS, both of them recognize this inner conflict between who they are and who their families want them to be. And both of them draw inner strength from things that set them apart from the ideology that they’ve been indoctrinated into.

Both are forced to adopt new identities as refugees, and it’s here that they are forced to rely on the things that were not valued by their families. Zuko relies more on his sword-fighting abilities than his bending, and Tyrion reclaims things about himself that his father hated, such as his tumbling, and takes on the role as dwarf jester to survive. It’s because of these characters’ ability to develop an inner strength independent from their families that they are able to do this, even though they had previously been taught to devalue those parts of themselves.

They both draw on that inner strength that comes from the things that set them apart.

Ursa: Remember this, Zuko. No matter how things may seem to change, never forget who you are.

Zuko remembering his mother’s words when he is a refugee can be compared to Tyrion’s words to Jon when he is empathizing over the latter over them both being “bastards.”

"Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armor yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you."

I think we can say that Zuko’s mother’s words are part of where he gets that inner strength that he mentions above (”That’s made me who I am”), and Zuko’s love for his mother was something that was treated like a weakness. Both Tyrion and Zuko have to struggle with this concept of owning who you are and making your weakness your strength. And although Tyrion imparts this advice onto Jon, he struggles just as much as Zuko does with owning it.

Both characters also go through journeys that involve a great loss of privilege and being forced to experience life from the perspective of those who are most oppressed. Both characters use false identities while in exile, as fugitives from both their own families and people who hate their families. Both also are forced to adopt identities that they had previously disdained are forced to let go of their classism. But as I said in part one, the narrative here is not a straight line, and both characters experience at times growth in compassion and times where they take advantage of others. One example of this for Zuko is his interactions with Song, who invites him to eat with her family and empathizes with him over his burn scar, which forces Zuko to relate to someone who can relate to him on a similar level. Yet he also ends up stealing her ostritch horse. This is similar to Tyrion’s interaction with Penny, who he can relate to because she is also a dwarf, and who represents the first time he is confronted with someone who can truly empathize with his disability, but who he also sometimes treats with disdain and cruelty. Although it should be noted that in both cases these characters cannot totally relate to each other. Penny and Tyrion experience their dwarfism in different ways and while Penny lacks Tyrion's class privilege, she comes from a loving home where she was taught not to be ashamed of her body, and she tries to kiss Tyrion on the assumption that they have a connection because of their shared disability, but it doesn't work. Similarly, Song tries to force a connection with Zuko on the assumption that she understands him because of his scar, however she does not know the story of how Zuko got that scar and has the privilege of hiding her scars that Zuko does not because his scar is literally on his face.

Jin and Penny also have similarities as Jin is someone who is attracted to Zuko who he is kind to but ultimately rejects romantically because of his own insecurities and his preoccupation with his current goals, and Tyrion does the same with Penny.

Both characters meet people throughout their journeys who make assumptions about them based on their appearance. Both also experience hatred from people for the crimes of their families, even while they themselves are forced to go into hiding from their families.

Katara: You’re the Fire Lord’s son. Spreading war and violence and hatred is in your blood.

and Tyrion in ADWD:

"—I know who the dwarf is, and what he is." Her black eyes turned to Tyrion, hard as stone. "Kinslayer, kingslayer, murderer, turncloak. Lannister."

What I think is particularly interesting about these two scenes is that both of them are prisoners, at low points in their narrative, when this dialogue happens. And both are actually empathizing with the people who are responding to them with hatred. Zuko trying to connect with Katara through the loss of his mother, and Tyrion understanding what the Widow of the Waterfront actually wants to hear and being on his way to join Daenerys.

Both characters also experience their inner conflict through an anger at the world. This is shown in Zuko’s “lucky to be born” speech about himself vs his sister and in the episode “Bitter Work,” in which he seeks out his own lightning after Iroh refuses to use lightning against him.

Zuko: You've always thrown everything you could at me! Well, I can take it, and now I can give it back! Come on, strike me! You've never held back before!

Tyrion also has moments where he rails against the world and at the gods because of the cruelty he’s faced in his life.

And when I die, please let them bury with me a crossbow, so I can thank the Father Above for his gifts the same way I thanked the father below.

This is also a nice connection between the two scenes where both characters confront their fathers (discussed in more depth below), as Tyrion uses a crossbow on his father and Zuko is able to redirect his father’s lightning.

There's a lot of discussion in fandom about what makes a good redemption arc, and the thing is that I think most of these discussions overlook something that is key in both Zuko and Tyrion's narrative, and that is how hard it actually is to do the right thing when you're constantly told that everything you do is wrong, and how hard it is to distinguish between the things you need to apologize for and the things that aren't your responsibility or things you never should have been blamed for. And because they are traumatized characters - both with significant physical disfigurements - both Tyrion and Zuko have times when they assume that people are judging them for the wrong reasons.

Katara: It's just that for so long now, whenever I would imagine the face of the enemy, it was your face.

Zuko: My face? I see.

Obviously there’s a lot of discussion of Zuko’s redemption arc and what makes it work and in contrast, Tyrion’s narrative isn’t finished, and is currently left in a pretty dark place, but one thing I love about both of these stories is the acknowledgement of how hard it is to trust other people when you’ve been hurt, and how hard it is to trust even your own perceptions and judgments. And to be honest, I think that much of discussion of Zuko’s heroism overlooks that because everything turned out alright in the end, even though I wouldn’t even say that he’s fully recovered from his trauma by the end of the story. Even when he’s fully become one of the “good guys” he has times when he’s angry, insecure, overly apologetic or self-righteous, and negatively impacts his relationships with others. The reason why this story works is not so much because of its ability to give the character redemption, but because of the acknowledgement that redemption, or recovery, is hard.

Both also have scenes where they remain loyal to their families but experience conflict with their family’s worldview after being exposed to the wider world and empathizing with others who have been hurt by their families.

It is high summer for House Lannister, so why am I so bloody cold?

And again, although these narratives are different because these points happen at different times in the narrative, both characters have instances where they are responsible in some way for an imprisoned character who they empathize with (Iroh for Zuko and Sansa for Tyrion) which causes them to question the rightness of their family.

Zuko: I have everything I always wanted, but it's not at all how I thought it would be.

And both have parts of their stories where they are welcomed back into the fold of their family only to be nearly killed. Tyrion in ACOK during his tenure as hand of the king in which he appears to be on top but is brutally reminded of how conditional the power and acceptance he has is when he loses it again after the Battle of the Blackwater and the slow ebbing away of agency he experiences throughout ASOS which ends in him being falsely imprisoned and nearly executed for regicide; Zuko early in his story when his sister almost successfully tricks him into walking into being imprisoned with the promise of going back home, and later when he is accepted back home but with the truth of Aang’s survival hanging over his head, and his confrontation with Ozai in which Ozai tries to kill him with lightning.

And of course any comparison of Tyrion and Zuko would be incomplete without comparing their respective scenes of facing down their fathers and primary abusers. These two scenes have different narrative impacts because of the ways they are different and because they appear at different times in the characters’ arcs, but they also have some striking similarities. Both Tyrion and Zuko confront their abusers in scenes that suggests that they’ve finally reached the breaking point where they are no longer able to overlook the intolerable situation they are in.

Both Ozai and Tywin use gaslighting to control their children and we see that a lot in Tyrion’s conversations with Tywin in which Tywin dismisses or belittles the things that Tyrion says even when Tyrion is right, and Ozai severely punishes Zuko for speaking out against him. Both Tyrion and Zuko have scenes of standing up to their fathers and speaking their minds.

Tyrion in ASOS to Tywin:

“Will you punish me if I refuse, father?”

Zuko to Ozai in “The Day of Black Sun, Pt 2″:

Zuko: I'm not taking orders from you anymore. I am going to speak my mind, and you are going to listen.

Tyrion in ASOS to Tywin:

“Perhaps I don't choose to go to the Wall, Father. It's bloody cold up there, and I believe I've had enough coldness from you. So just tell me something, and I'll be on my way. One simple question, you owe me that much."

"I owe you nothing."

"You've given me less than that, all my life, but you'll give me this.”

Zuko in “The Day of Black Sun, Pt 2″ to Ozai:

Zuko: For so long, all I wanted was for you to love me, to accept me. I thought it was my honor I wanted, but really, I was just trying to please you. You, my father, who banished me just for talking out of turn. My father, who challenged me, a thirteen-year-old boy, to an Agni Kai. How could you possibly justify a duel with a child?

Ozai: It was to teach you respect!

Zuko: It was cruel! And it was wrong.

Ozai: Then you have learned nothing!

Zuko: No, I've learned everything! And I’ve had to learn it on my own.

Both characters also confront their abusers with their abuse of an important female character whose love and whose disappearance had a huge impact on their life. Tyrion asking Tywin what happened to Tysha can be seen as a parallel to Zuko’s final scene with Ozai where he demands to know where his mother is.

And just as this question is left open in the main series of ATLA (yes, I know about the comics, but I kind of like the ambiguity for thematic purposes), I don’t think Tyrion is ever going to find out what happened to Tysha.

One main difference in the two characters confronting their fathers is that Tyrion kills his father and Zuko doesn’t, and in addition to this being a result of a difference in tone and medium between the two stories, Zuko also is spared from having to make that choice because of his belief that it is Aang’s destiny to defeat Ozai. Tyrion suffers a mental breakdown after killing his father while Zuko is able to integrate himself successfully into a new social group (eventually). Tyrion starts to do this in ADWD but again, that story is not finished yet so it is hard to say how it will be resolved.

Both characters also frequently act like the victims of abuse that they are in their interpersonal relationships, and tend to expect that people will invalidate their feelings or be outright hostile to them. As I said above, this is also because of their experiences with people reacting to their physical differences, which both play a big role in their trauma.

Finally, both characters have a spiritual connection to dragons and this plays a big role in their journeys towards self-discovery.

Aang: All this time, I thought firebending was destruction. Since I hurt Katara, I've been too afraid and hesitant. But now I know what it really is ... it's energy, and life.

Zuko and Aang discover the true meaning of fire from the firebending masters, the dragons themselves, legendary creatures who were thought to be dead. It’s also very thematically interesting that the dragons were thought to be wiped out by the Fire Nation, and Zuko, the prince of the Fire Nation, learns that fire doesn’t have to mean anger and pain, but that it also represents life and rebirth.

Dragons also have similar meaning for Tyrion, a meaning that increases the closer he gets to Daenerys and makes his way towards helping her cause of fighting for freedom and life. Tyrion and Dany’s connection to the dragons links them as marginalized characters and people for whom dragons represent fighting back against oppression.

“Even a stunted, twisted, ugly little boy can look down over the world when he's seated on a dragon's back."

And thus, in both narratives, we see fire representing the potential for destruction and the desire for power, and we see disempowered and marginalized characters who seek to obtain this power but also have potential to hurt others because of the ways they have been hurt, but then the narrative flips that meaning on its head, showing that it’s possible to recover from trauma, that a person doesn’t have to be defined by anger and pain. And ultimately, that’s what’s compelling about these sorts of characters, regardless of how our struggles are similar or different than the characters we watch or read about or whether we get to see them fail or succeed.

#tyrion lannister #zuko #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf meta #avatar the last airbender #atla meta

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imadeablogforchitchat · 4 years ago

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In Taiwan for six years

My dad passed away last year. It's been almost a year. He died of pneumonia. He used to get pneumonia a lot. I remember even as a kid he showed me his phlegm and it would be bloody. I think it's because he got tuberculosis when he was in college and never fully recovered. He never got to a chance to finish college.

I didn't know my dad very well. He lived in Japan or Taiwan and I grew up in the USA with my mom. He would visit every so often during summer when I was kid but the trips gradually became less frequent. (My parents are divorced.) The last trip to the USA was my high school graduation.

I came to Taiwan because my dad was getting old and there was no other children. I have an older brother but he is intellectual disabled. I quit my horrible job of 11 years and moved to Taiwan to care for him. Actually to be accurate, I was only suppose to be here for a year to get my Taiwan ID. I don't think my mother would have let me go for if she had known it I would be here for so long. She could have gone in my place because my dad had asked for her help initially, but she was still bitter about the divorce. Of course she couldn't pass up the possible inheritance for me.

My dad was in poor health. I did not know he had suffered a stroke ten years prior. He didn't tell me, I don't think he told any of the relatives. He lived alone. He was worried for my brother, worried who would take care of him once he passed away. He had asked my cousin if he would watch him, but since my cousin was much older than me, he was worried my brother would out live him, asked me as well. Of course, I agreed.

Long story short, my father's health deteriorated. There were many trips to the hospital because of pneumonia and bladder infection. He became bed-ridden the last few years. Last year he became unresponsive.

I thought I would be back in the US, but you know stuff happened. The pandemic and other things. I am kind of relieved it's taking such a long time. I don't like living with my mother. She is a horrible person and stresses me out. She is nagging me to get married and have a kid. I am 44 years old. That ship has sailed. She didn't care about that when I was living with her, only that she was being finanically supported.

I don't know what I am supposed to do, if and when I get back to the US. Find a job? Can I now? Get married? Fat chance. Frankly I rather not do anything.

#my dad #life #stuff #my dad had a nice smile

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ourimpavidheroine · 5 years ago

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An Anniversary

Five years ago today, the 13th of February, 2015, I published, all in one shot, a piece of fanfiction called Please Excuse My Penmanship.

I hadn’t, at that point, written - never mind published - any fanfiction for over fifteen years. I had written some X-Files fanfic back in the day but I’d lost it; my backup floppies disappeared when I moved to Finland and, like just about everyone else back then, the places I had posted it to online disappeared without warning. (Toss a coin to your Archive, oh valley of plenty.) I’d been pretty torn up about losing my fic that way, which put me off writing. Time went on; I had twins in 2002 and they both turned out to have non-verbal autism and different flavors of ADD/ADHD and my life got very complicated and very difficult for a lot of years there. Writing for pleasure wasn’t even on the table.

By 2015 my life had settled a bit. My wife was disabled and suffering from severe and untreated depression and the kids were in special ed and a lot of therapies but we were managing. I had watched Avatar: The Last Airbender with my kids (on DVD - they were too young for it when it first aired) and had gone on to watch The Legend of Korra with them as well.

I really liked Mako as a character; he was too internal and complex for most of the kids watching, however, and wasn’t well liked. Most fans saw an inflexible jerk who caused and fucked up a love triangle; what I saw was an autistic man who was suffering from pretty severe PTSD. He grabbed my interest. I related.

I really liked his dynamic with Prince Wu, despite the fact that he was a really annoying character. Queer-coded as fuck, although the showrunners were plainly ignoring it. And I started to headcanon who they would be as a couple. How to make Wu less annoying while still making him canon Wu? How to humanize Mako while still acknowledging his autism and PTSD? Headcanon was all it was, though, a way for me keep myself occupied. I’ve been writing stories inside my head as long as I can remember. It’s what I’ve always done.

I read a post on here on Tumblr where the OP stated that there was no such thing as a good Letter Fic; I thought to myself, Bet I could do it. And so in the end of January 2015 I sat down at my PC and started to type up all of my headcanon.

I went back and forth with Wu. What I first started to write was too clumsy, by half; I tried to stick to his endless slang and it was as annoying as it had ever been on the show. I knew if I stuck to that shallow, silly, stupid, canon Wu he wouldn’t be interesting to read. I struggled with it for a time until I remembered something.

My maternal grandmother told me a story once about a girl from Mexico. Claudia was her name; she was a year older than my mother. Her own mother had died when she was born; her father, who was one of my grandfather’s business partners in Mexico, had left her in the care of her grandparents, who were extraordinarily wealthy denizens of Mexico City. At some point the adults involved thought that it would be a great idea to send this girl to stay with my mother’s family to learn English; in return, my mother would then go and stay a summer in Mexico City to learn Spanish. (Which she did; she’s fluent to this day.) Claudia had no English at all but my grandmother had working Spanish and I guess they all figured it would be enough for this poor girl?

The first day Claudia arrived in San Francisco my grandmother kindly showed her into the bathroom and told her to take a shower. My Grams realized about ten minutes or so later that the water hadn’t turned on; she went to check on her and there she was, sitting obediently on the toilet seat, fully dressed, waiting for the maid to come and undress her and turn the water on for her shower.

She had no idea how to do either of those things for herself. She had never, at the age of thirteen, undressed herself or operated a shower. And there it was, the opening of my story. Wu remembers arriving in Republic City on the run from the Red Lotus, checking into the hotel, and having no idea whatsoever what to do next. And I thought to myself...What if he isn’t actually stupid?

And there he was. My Wu. Just like that.

I wrote feverishly for a week, drawn into the story that was sitting in my head, waiting to be told. I didn’t have a Betareader; my wife liked my writing but rather tersely told me that TLOK wasn’t her fandom and she wasn’t interested in reading it, something that hurt me pretty deeply, especially since my X-Files fanfic was how we’d actually connected in the first place.

(She was, at that time, in the process of slowly dying of heart failure, but I didn’t know that then.)

I wasn’t going to publish it. I just wanted to write it, to see if I still had it together after a seventeen year hiatus. Wuko wasn’t at all a popular ship; after the show finale a couple of months prior all the fanfiction being feverishly written and published was Korrasami. (In fact, I checked AO3 at the time and found exactly two Wuko fanfics, both of which were one-shots and not to my particular taste.) I went back and forth with it and then thought, Fuck it. I’ll just do it. And maybe no one will read it but at least I’ll have done it. I read it through one more time and then, on the thirteenth of February, took a deep breath, told myself to stop being a coward, and posted the entire fic at once.

I got my first comment, and I was elated. And then I thought to myself, Well, fuck, you may as well write some of the other stuff in your head. You might learn something about yourself as a writer on the way.

Then, a few months later, on the seventeenth of June, my world fell apart. My wife, staying at our summer cottage with our twelve year old twins, died of a heart attack while the kids were off playing and I was here at home, getting ready to travel down the next day on the train to meet them all for the summer. My daughter was the one to find her; she was long past saving at that point. Family friends brought the children, our pets, and our car the two hours back home as I collapsed on the floor of our flat and rocked myself back and forth, wordlessly keening, my hands trembling uncontrollably.

The next year was unspeakable. I was a widow at forty-six; I was living in a foreign country with two disabled children, with no family or friends nearby and an imprecise grasp of the language. My wife had told me she had life insurance; she lied. I was flat broke. My grief was deep and whole and devastating; my children were traumatized and barely functioning. I had no one to help me, and I’d cook meals at midnight so my sleeping children wouldn’t hear me sobbing in the kitchen.

And I wrote.

I wrote out of desperation; I had to do something to keep me tethered to this world. I wrote of love and families, of a traumatized child from the street that was my daughter’s age, full of bravado and choked fury. I wrote of an autistic boy growing into a man, bullied and shunned, aching to be free, much like my own.

I took my children to more therapists. I took myself to a therapist that turned out to be homophobic; I found another one. I made dinners; I cleaned the house, I walked in circles around my living room, whispering over and over to myself, You’re okay you’re okay you’re okay you’re okay, before making another phone call.

And I wrote.

In August of 2018 my daughter attempted suicide and was hospitalized. I was trying to write I Do Not Ask The Night For Explanations and I had to stop. I had severe panic attacks whenever I tried to work on it. I brought her home and I cut my work hours down to four hours a week so that I could be with her at all times; she wasn’t safe to be left alone. I cared for her. I cared for her twin, who was terrified, unable to sleep, afraid that if he wasn’t watching her she’d try it again. I fought until I got them different therapists. I stopped sleeping. My health suffered.

And I wrote. When I could. It was, without any doubt at all, the only thing that was keeping me going during that time. I would tell myself that I had to keep going, that I still had so much of this story in my head, I needed to get it out. Sometimes I would write while sobbing. Sometimes I would sit here at my desk and nothing would come. I just kept going, though.

It’s better now. She missed most of last year of school and is making it up this year and doing so well. Her brother is at a new school and has, for the first time in his life, made friends. I was able, in December, to actually leave them for three days; the first time I had been away from them since we lost their mother.

They’ll be eighteen this summer and we’re finally able to breathe. We’re moving forward, the three of us. We’re still broken, but we’re making something new out of the pieces instead of trying to put them back together.

My writing is what saved me. It wasn’t about how many hits/comments/kudos I got; I appreciate every single one I get, believe me. But the writing was making me hold myself accountable, making myself get out of bed, get dressed, brush my hair and teeth, sit down and try. Sometimes that was all I could manage; the writing just wasn’t happening. But it gave me a goal when I needed one. And boy, did I need one.

Thank you all for reading. For those of you that have been there since the beginning and those who just started reading now. For those who faded away from the fandom over time or who left because they didn’t like how the story was going; I wish you well and thanks for reading when you did. Thank you for the hits and the kudos and the comments. You may not have known you were helping to save me, but you were. So thank you.

I am not done writing yet. I am not oblivious; I know I am so far in AU territory now that you’re for all intents and purposes reading original fic. That’s okay. It’s the story that was in my head, that is still in my head. Maybe someday I’ll try to publish it and maybe I won’t, and I’m fine with that. I’m not ready at this point to do what’s necessary to take it past fanfic and that’s okay. It has served and is continuing to serve its purpose for me; if you all enjoy it then that’s just biscuits and gravy, as my Great-Aunt Margie used to say.

I wrote us all a little anniversary ficlet; this takes it full circle for me. (And then back I go to Wu and Qi’s wedding!)

Mind the warnings at the bottom if you think you need them.

Chapter 132: 252: Wu

#My fanfiction #five year anniversary #long post #cw:death #cw:suicide #cw:trauma

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