#What Happened When I Forced Myself To Wake Up At 5 A.M. Every Day For A Month

[reasoningdaily]

Early risers get a lot of good press: They are supposedly more productive and possibly better problem solvers. But after a month of forcing myself out of bed at 5 a.m., I learned that getting up early isn’t always the best thing for you.

I’m a morning person, and most days I’m out of bed by 5:45 a.m. I usually have 15 minutes before the rest of my household starts to wake, and I use this time to enjoy a cup of tea as well as the stillness of the morning. I look forward to this time so much that I wondered, What would happen if I expanded the 15 minutes to an hour?

While it was a nice thought, getting up at 5 a.m. was harder than I expected. My alarm went off a mere 45 minutes earlier than normal, but I had to drag myself out of bed. With no plan other than tea and stillness, I quickly learned that an hour is too long. The second day I decided to meditate, a practice I’ve wanted to do but never seemed to have the time for. Unfortunately, I fell asleep in my chair. Eventually, I took out a piece of paper and did a brain dump of all the things I wanted to get done in January–at least I had a plan.

As the month went on, I used the time to get a head start on work, but by 9 p.m., I was exhausted and would head to bed. That meant I lost out on evening time with my husband and son.

Why was 5 a.m. so much harder than 5:45 a.m.?

Forty-five minutes can make a huge difference, says Damon Raskin, MD, a sleep expert affiliated with Concierge Choice Physicians in Pacific Palisades, California. “We get our deep restorative sleep in the early-morning waking hours when REM sleep occurs,” he says. “If you shorten that, you are going to feel unrefreshed, and you’re not going to have enough sleep.”

A Better Way to Get Up Early

Turns out that simply adjusting your alarm clock isn’t the best way to make a long-term change. Instead, understand that your brain is always looking for patterns, says Shawn Stevenson, author of Sleep Smarter: 21 Proven Tips to Sleep Your Way to a Better Body, Better Health and Bigger Success.

“Your body clock, or circadian rhythm, governs how your body is in sync with all of life, and when you make a shift in that, there will be residual fallout,” he says. “By waking up 45 minutes earlier, you proactively created at-home jet lag. If you keep pressing it for several days, your body will eventually sort itself out, but there is a more graceful way to do it.”

“By waking up 45 minutes earlier, you proactively created at-home jet lag.”

First, withdraw from electronics at least an hour before bed, which affect the quality of your sleep. “When it comes to our health, most of us know that calories aren’t equal; 300 calories of broccoli aren’t the same for your body as 300 calories of Twinkies,” he says. “Sleep is similar, and unfortunately many today are getting Twinkie sleep, not cycling through proper brain activity because electronic devices suppress melatonin (the hormone that controls sleep cycles).”

Every hour you are exposed to blue light from a device, you suppress melatonin production for 30 minutes, says Stevenson. “You may be getting eight hours of sleep, but you will still wake up feeling exhausted,” he says.

Morning exercise will also help by regulating your cortisol levels, the hormone that gets you going in the morning, says Stevenson. “Normal cortisol rhythms spike in the morning and then gradually bottom out in the evening,” he says. “If you are changing your wake time, five minutes of exercise can help reset your rhythm. Do body-weight squats or walk around the block.”

Implementing a gradual wake time will also help. “Move your wake time up by 15 minutes and go through that for a couple of days to a week,” says Stevenson. “This is especially important if you want to establish a consistent sleep pattern.”

And not having a strong plan doesn’t help, says Stevenson. “If you don’t have a reason to get up, and your body wants to rest, forget about it,” he says. “You need something that will fill that space that is compelling.”

The Benefits of Getting Up Early

Being the proverbial “early bird” has its advantages, says Shanon Makekau, medical director of the Kaiser Permanente Sleep Lab in Hawaii.

“Morning people have been shown to be more proactive, which is linked to better job performance, career success, and higher wages, as well as more goal-oriented,” she says. “These people tend to be more in sync with the typical workday schedule, versus night owls who may be still be waking up at around lunchtime.”

Early-morning hours also tend to be more productive because there are fewer distractions. Jeremy Korst, CMO of the automated tax software provider Avalara and former general manager of the Windows 10 group at Microsoft, gets up between 3:30 and 4 a.m. for two reasons: clarity of thought during that part of the day and quiet time. He does strategic work from 4 a.m. to 6:30 a.m. that requires focus, then he works out and heads to the office.

“No one else is awake yet, and it’s quiet,” he says. “This isn’t a time for clearing my inbox; this is heads-down work time, during which I’m more productive than any other time of day. Without distraction and a bit of separation from the flurry of the prior workday, I can truly focus on important work.”

Getting up early makes Korst feel like he’s got a jumpstart on the day: “I’m in the office early, so I am already ahead of the day and the schedule a bit,” he says. “This helps as calendars are nearly always jammed–getting ahead of it is critical.”

What Happened When the 30 Days Were Over

Unfortunately, my experiment didn’t produce long-lasting results. When my month was over, I immediately returned to my normal 5:45 a.m., which felt like sleeping in. I even slept until 10 a.m. on weekend mornings–a very rare occurrence for me. I feel more productive now that I’m back to my normal routine.

“The jury is still out regarding whether or not simply shifting one’s wake time earlier is enough to garner all of the positive benefits of the early bird,” says Makekau. “It may be that one’s internal tendency toward productivity is inherent or, more importantly, is tied to the congruency between the internal sleep/wake clock and one’s external schedule. Night owls could be just as productive as long as they are allowed to work on a delayed schedule.”

[lutherfordd]

The Recipe for a Perfect Morning Run

They say you should start your morning with uplifting energy. That’s the secret to a good day, they say. And I’ve mastered it. Every day starts the same: the same perfect routine, the same perfect execution.

I wake up at exactly 5:30 a.m., no alarm needed. My clothes are already laid out the night before. A quick stretch, a glass of water, and I’m out the door. My morning run is just as precise—a loop around the neighborhood Garden, a brisk pace past the Houses, and the grand finale at the Park. There, I reward myself with a hotdog from Ben’s stand.

Ben’s hotdogs are good—not amazing, not world-changing. But they’re reliable. A staple. And that’s what matters.

Routine. Perfection. Control.

This morning is no different. The air is crisp, my strides perfectly measured. The Garden looks as pristine as always, dew still clinging to the flowers. I round the corner to the Park, my stomach already anticipating the familiar smell of Ben’s grill.

But when I arrive, something’s wrong.

There’s no hotdog stand.

The spot where it always stands is empty, as if Ben had never existed at all. My chest tightens, but I force myself to keep walking, to maintain composure. This isn’t a big deal. It’s fine. It has to be fine.

I sit on a bench to rest, though my legs refuse to stay still. My hands twitch, my foot taps against the dirt. The unease won’t settle. This is just a small break in the routine, I tell myself. Nothing to worry about.

Beside me, an old man reads a newspaper, his posture relaxed, his face weathered but calm. He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t acknowledge my presence. But after a few moments, he speaks.

“You ever wonder what it’s all for?” he says, his voice low and rough.

I stiffen, unsure if he’s talking to me. I don’t respond, keeping my gaze fixed ahead.

“You live your life thinking you’ll get it all right eventually. That you’ll wake up one day and the regrets will be gone. But they don’t leave. They just sit there, waiting for you to notice.”

I clench my jaw, refusing to engage. But his words press against me, peeling back the layers I’ve worked so hard to build.

“I lost my son,” he says, almost to himself. “Pushed him too hard to be perfect. Didn’t know when to stop. He grew up hating me, but I kept pushing. Now, he doesn’t even remember who I am. And you know what? I deserved it.”

His voice cracks, but he keeps going. “Funny how you can ruin someone’s life and still wake up every morning, isn’t it? Still eat your breakfast, still breathe.” He chuckles bitterly. “But I’m fine now. How about you?”

The question slices through me, and before I can stop myself, I respond.

“I’m not fine,” I admit, my voice trembling. “I’ve spent my whole life pretending everything’s fine. Like if I say it enough, it’ll be true. But it’s not.”

The words pour out now, unstoppable. “I’ve made mistakes. Big ones. I’ve pushed people away, hurt the ones I cared about. And now... now I don’t have anyone. Not really.” My hands grip the edge of the bench as I exhale shakily.

I pause, my chest tight. “Except for Ben.” I laugh softly, the sound bitter. “He doesn’t even know what he means to me. He’s just... there. Every morning, with that stupid hotdog stand. And it’s the only thing that feels right. The only thing that doesn’t feel broken.”

My voice grows quieter, more uncertain. “I thought I was okay. But I’m not. I’m just... tired.” My throat tightens as I fight the lump rising there. “Ben doesn’t even know me, and I don’t deserve to know him. But he’s all I have left.”

The old man folds his newspaper deliberately, the sound crisp and final. He stands, adjusts his coat, and pats my shoulder lightly.

“You seem to care a lot about Ben,” he says, his voice softer now. “I’m sorry for what happened. The accident this morning really was tragic.”

The ground crumbles beneath me. My heart races, my chest feels like it’s caving in.

I sit frozen as he walks away, his figure disappearing into the distance. My thoughts swirl violently, but the world around me remains eerily calm.

Eventually, I stand. My legs feel heavy, but they carry me forward. Past the Park, past the Garden, past the House.

The route is broken, my perfect morning shattered.

And yet, I keep running. Because there’s nowhere else to go.

[nathank77]

6/17/24

11:29 a.m

So I did sleep. I took 1 more mg of Melatonin right before I laid down. So 3mg in Total. I didn't sleep well obv I was off my circadian rhythm. I woke up prob once every hour and a half. Before falling asleep my hallucination was weird.

I had like mental pictures and then word hallucinations like, "put the cup over there." In a different voice like 3 different times.... but it wasn't exactly attached to the mental picture... the picture was gone and then the word hallucinations happened. Yup my brain is broken.

I got 5 hours of sleep. In Total. I woke up at 5:30 a.m. I tried to go back to sleep without the use of drugs bc I didn't want to sleep until like 12 or something and I laid there for a hour and gave up at 6:30 a.m.

I then hit the ground running. I went to Walmart. Grabbed a new lamp. Started laundry. Grabbed fancy work gloves for the attic and I got myself a new blanket and pillow top mattress cover which I'm washing right now.

I ended up ordering less on my credit line. I got another lamp but this one is a floor lamp. The lamp i got today was a desk lamp. My room only had one lamp. The overhead light stopped working years ago. My desk lamp is by my degree it's a little annoying cause it can't be by my tv bc of the reflection and the bulb is bigger than the shade of the lamp... but I pointed it towards the ceiling it's on my degree and makes it look flashy. And gives one corner of my room light. I'm using the other floor lamp in the opposite corner of my tv. At night I'll turn off like 2 of them. During the day I'll keep on all 3 to try to adjust my circadian rhythm. I'm excited to get the new lamp in the mail. I have exactly the right number of light bulbs in my junk draw.

I got like 11 storage bins all being delivered over this week. I'm excited. I already got them all planned out for my stuff. I won't be getting them right away though which is annoying but I can't do it all in one day anyways.

The gloves are too large so I bought the same pair in medium. I'll return the large ones this week once I get the medium ones.

I'm tired and my auditory hallucination is bouncing off the walls. It was really quiet the first few hours I enjoyed it.

I'm about to go up the attic and sort the boxes. Imma go through my clothes and put them in the boxes I emptied with my clothes that came from my old dresser and went to the attic and came back down here. I'm just going to sort them and get the boxes off the chest with my photo albums. I won't do too much up there without the storage bins I'm limited but with these gloves I can go through the bug shit draws.

By the end of the night I'll have my new bedding stuff on, the old spares in my blanket storage bin and I'm going to organize my desk lamp thing cause it had little compartments. I'm hoping I can get smaller bulbs so I can use it as a reading light or something sometimes if my tv is off.

I'm hoping I get a few of my storage bins today so I can organize.

I'm going to try to go to sleep at 10:30. I'll take my first mg at 10:30. Then if I'm not sleeping by like 12:30 I'm taking the second half and just raising my tolerance. I know I won't sleep well for a while bc I'm forcing my circadian rhythm which is why I'm mixing in Melatonin... I'm hoping it works. It's nice being awake when everyone else is. I can't believe it's 11:21 a.m and I've already did all this and I slept!

I am worried about sleep. I am worried about the weird word hallucinations... I am worried I'll have to raise my tolerance... I mean what am I supposed to do? Go back to fucking waking up at 4:30 p.m and falling asleep at 8 a.m it's fucking awful.

So yea I have a lot of anxiety. I'm just trying to stay busy. My hallucination makes me want to kill myself. Idk why it couldn't have stayed like this morning. It was an angel when I didn't turn on American dad and I was trying to sleep in silence. Just repeating my thoughts. And not being annoying. We have a deal when my eyes are closed it acts like an angel otherwise it can be fucking psychosis. It stood true to that today but I mean I still refuse to sleep in silence. I really thought I could fall back to sleep but I couldn't and I can't blame the hallucination despite it being an asshole now.

I got to call my dad later I'm anxious idk If I should after therapy or before. I want to get in the attic ASAP.

[moonlit-jeno]

friends (m.)

pairing: lee jeno x fem reader

genre: explicit sexual content | omegaverse | heat sex | unprotected sex | some name calling

words: 3.6k

don’t like don’t read :)

“Your heat’s coming up.” Jeno says, point blank in between bites of his apple. You just nod, taking a break from your notes to side eye him. It’s not odd for him to know intimate details of your life- you do make sure to keep him updated on your cycle just so that he can send you the notes for the days you miss - but it’s not exactly a common subject for the two of you. “Who are you spending it with?”

There are still 13 powerpoint slides for you to grind through, but you figure a small break won’t hurt. Might as well use the conversation topic for something good, aka a reason to slam your laptop shut. You turn to Jeno, giving your best friend your full attention, and take the iced coffee right out of his hand. He doesn��t protest. “No idea. Would call Jaemin but he’s ‘found the one’ or something, so I’ll probably just spend it by myself.”

“By yourself?” Jeno’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as if you’ve just admitted to committing a sin. It’s not like the concept isn’t unheard of, there’s a market full of toys to help you through it. “Isn’t that dangerous?” You shrug and take a sip of the coffee, offering him your smoothie in exchange. He takes a sip and then bites down on your straw. His entire face scrunches and he yanks his face away from the beverage. He pulls the straw up, inspecting the now soggy and dented object with disgust. “Fuck, what is this made out of?”

“Paper.” You huff a laugh out through your nose, taking your smoothie back. “And I mean, it’s not any more dangerous than spending your heat with the wrong person. Plus, my heats get kind of… intense.” If Jaemin sleeping for three days straight and limping after is anything to go by, both parties take the short end of the stick. You’d felt so bad after and apologized to him profusely, but he had just thrown you his signature dazzling grin and told you that drowning in pussy was exactly the way he envisioned himself dying. He definitely didn’t complain about the brownies you’d baked him as a ‘thank you’, though.

“Spend your heat with me.” The bold request has your brain malfunctioning, at a loss for where to even start reacting to his statement. You just stare at him, mouth opening and closing repeatedly while he returns the gaze earnestly. “Look, it makes sense, right? I know you better than anyone, and you already trust me. Plus if they’re as intense as I’ve heard they are, you need someone there.”

You frown, opening your laptop up and staring blankly at the screen just to avoid having to look at Jeno. It does make sense to have him there with you, and it’s not like he’s the worst person to have sex with. Plenty of people around campus have delighted in talking about their nights with Jeno, dreamily telling you how lucky you are to have him and falling deaf to your insistence that the two of you aren’t like that. Plus, you’re not blind and even if you’re not the cute couple everyone thinks you are, you can admit that he’s hot.

“Wait, hang on. What do you mean ‘heard’ about? What shit is Na Jaemin saying?” Jeno’s shoulders shake with his laughter at your sudden concern. “I mean, he didn’t say anything, but that was kind of the problem. He didn’t show up to practice for like a week and when he finally did, he looked like he’d been mauled. Coach had to bench him.”

Your heart drops slightly at hearing that Jaemin’s soccer had been affected. He hadn’t told you that. “Oh.” The guilt must show on your face because Jeno is quickly soothing you, making sure to tell you that they all found Jaemin’s state funny. “Okay, wait. Wouldn’t you have the same problem if you help me?”

“It’s off-season. So, what do you say?” Jeno waits for your response expectantly, eyes soft, curious. “You can say no, y/n. I don’t want to pressure you at all, I’m just letting you know that it’s an option.” “I’ll think about it.” And you do. A concerning amount.

You spend that night tossing and turning, trying and failing to shut your brain off. Worries about ruining your friendship and about hurting Jeno bounce around your brain no matter how much you try to stop thinking about it. What if something bad happens during it? What if you never talk again? And worst of all is your brain telling you that he doesn’t actually want you specifically, he just wants to be with an omega in heat. You’re just convenient. 

That thought actually makes you cry and you wrap your blankets even tighter around yourself, sobbing weakly into your pillows. In an effort to distract your wandering mind you grab for your phone, opening instagram to find an influx of dm’s from Jeno. It calms you a bit, the messages ranging from cute dogs to absolutely cursed memes, and you smile softly at the reminder that he’s your best friend, and that he definitely cares about you. Biting your lip, you hesitate for only a few moments before typing out a “you can help”, hitting send before you can second guess it. You lock your phone and set it face down on the dresser, thankfully finding sleep as soon as your head hits the pillow.

It’s hot when you wake up, clothes clinging to your skin uncomfortably. Peeling your shirt off only gives you relief for a moment but then the sticky heat is back full force. You whimper in misery, trying to snuggle back into your bed for at least some comfort, but you find that the corner of your fitted sheet has come up, the rest of your blankets on the floor. There’s only one pillow near you and it’s soaked in sweat. You panic slightly, frantically yanking your sheets back onto the bed and trying to fluff them up as much as possible, only calming down once the bedding has been fixed to your liking. Only once you’ve settled down in the plushness of your blankets do you have a moment of clarity.

“Oh shit.” You shoot up and search for your phone, dropping it once before finally managing to open the correct app. There’s a few messages from Jeno that you don’t bother looking at, going straight for the ‘call’ button. He picks up on the third ring.

“Hello?” He sounds groggy, like he’s just woken up, and a flash of heat runs through you at the low tone. “Why are you calling me at 5 a.m?”

You manage to stop fantasizing about your best friend long enough to choke out the word “Heat.” It comes out pathetic and whiny and you pause to clear your throat, trying to keep a clear head as well. “I’m sorry, my heat came early and I wanted to call you but you can go back to bed, I didn’t realize-”

“Fuck, okay, I’ll be over in 10.” Jeno cuts off your rambling with a swear, some rustling in the background accompanying his words. 

“Thank you.” You whisper, setting the phone down and curling up in bed, trying not to focus on how agonizingly slow the time is passing.

Jeno’s looking down at his shoes when you open the door, kicking idly at the door mat and fidgeting with the bag in his hands, though his head snaps up when he notices you. The smile on his face falters when he inhales, turns a little strained as he gets a taste of your heat, and you honestly give him props for the amount of restraint he has. It’s definitely more than you have, at least, because you’re on him the second he’s inside. He ends up sandwiched between you and the door, bag dangling precariously in one hand while he envelopes you in his strong arms. You don’t (can’t) do anything besides bury your face in his chest and whimper, knowing exactly what you want but being too needy and fuzzy to remedy it.  

“Jeno, it hurts.” You whimper and lift your face to nose along the skin just above the collar of his shirt, finding that while the skin to skin contact helps, it doesn’t fully relieve the heat scorching through you, the dull ache screaming for Jeno to take you already. “Please…” He holds you closer to his chest, encasing you fully in his scent, and picks you up bridal style. “I’ve got you baby, don’t worry.”

Being around Jeno does help to ease your stress, but it also serves to make you needier. The warm scent that you’ve grown to associate with the man is stronger than you’ve ever smelled it and it’s making you lose your mind more and more by the second. You’re worried that you’re drooling by the time he sets you down on your bed. He pauses to drop the bag he’s holding on the floor, and then he’s on top of you, strong arms caging you in.

The first kiss is soft, chaste. It would be cute if you weren’t so fucking needy, but you are and it’s just not enough. Unsatisfied, you thread your fingers through his hair and tug, nipping at his bottom lip and tilting your head to the side to get a deeper angle. A groan rumbles in his chest and he returns the kiss with more intensity, trying to take control again. You don’t let him, even if every instinct in your body is screaming at you to just submit.

Jeno shifts on top of you, scooting so that he can fully lay down between your legs. You wrap your limbs around him on instinct, pulling him as close as you possibly can and- oh. The close proximity means that you feel everything when he grinds down, and the feeling of having him so close to where you need him has any semblance of control that you had draining out of your body. You gasp pitifully, annoyance clawing at you from the amount of fabric blocking you from what you want.

“Please,” You almost sob, tugging at his shirt while trying to grind your lower half against his, the pressure of his cock against your center making your eyes roll. Jeno pulls back to yank his shirt off and then he’s back, hands sliding down your body to your panties, tugging the fabric down as far as he can before he growls in frustration and just rips the fabric in half. 

“Shit, you’re so wet.” Jeno moans in awe, breaking the kiss yet again to marvel at your pussy. “Bet I could just slip right in.” He drags his fingers through the slick on your upper thighs, eyes glued between your legs. You’re just about to complain when he finally presses his fingers into you. The initial relief has you moaning sweetly, though it quickly turns to impatient pleas for his cock. You clench around his fingers, reaching a hand down to palm over where he strains against his sweats.

“I need you to fuck me.” You beg, looking at him with what you hope is a convincing expression. “Please Jen, I need you.” “You have me.” He promises you, flicking his wrist faster, curling his fingers just right. “I’m right here baby.” It’s sweet, and under normal circumstances it would be enough, but right now it’s not what you need and the frustration has you on the brink of tears.

You buck your hips and try to arch up as if it’ll magically make him slip in, but Jeno remains as patient and controlled as ever. It’s too hot and every part of your body is screaming for him to fuck you, for him to claim you, and his refusal is killing you. “Alpha please, I need you.”

He absolutely snarls, pinning down your wriggling body with one hand around your throat. The other hand stays between your legs where it continues to strike pleasure into every single nerve ending you have, adding to the fire already coursing through your veins. “What you need is to take what your Alpha’s giving you. You’re not in charge here, okay?” With his face pressed so close to yours you have no choice but to make direct eye contact, staring straight into the most intense gaze you’ve ever seen. His pupils are blown out so wide that his eyes are almost black. Unable to tear your eyes away and as if in a trance, you find yourself nodding. The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Good girl. Now listen to your Alpha and cum.”

It happens almost instantaneously, as if his words were directly connected to a trigger, your body exploding just as soon as the words leave his mouth. Your entire body locks up, mind going blank as the immense pleasure takes hold of you, leaving you clawing at his back and screaming silently into the air. 

The orgasm only serves to thicken the haze in your mind, clouding any thoughts that aren’t related to the Alpha above you and his cock. It takes a moment for your eyes to finally come back into focus enough to make out your surroundings, and you’re greeted by the sight of Jeno with his fingers in his mouth, sucking your essence off of his digits. You’re burning so hot, so much hotter than you think you’ve been before, and it’s hard for you to function. All you can think about is his cock.

“Please,” You beg, swatting at him weakly. “Alpha please, I need you so bad.”

There’s no way that Jeno isn’t being affected by the pheromones clouding the air, but he manages to appear unbothered, his actions rough but nowhere near as desperate as yours. He just laughs lightly at your begging. “Aww, baby needs me?” The rhetorical question is punctuated by a slap, his hand coming down on your pussy hard enough to draw a yelp from you, thighs closing on his hand in a conflicting attempt to relieve the pressure from the hit and keep his hand on your cunt. He laughs meanly and pulls his hand away, drawing back slightly to spit onto your already soaking pussy, rubbing the spit into your skin while he talks. “This pussy belongs to me, yeah? You’re mine now.” Jeno leans down, mouth at your neck so that he can bite at the skin. “That means that I can do whatever I want with you.” You can’t speak, can’t even begin to think about what you should say in this situation. He presses a kiss to your jaw before pulling back and uses his free hand to turn your head so that you make eye contact with him. “Tell Alpha what you need.” “Need Alpha in me.” You beg, plead, flipping yourself over onto your hands and knees and arching your back, presenting yourself to him. “Need your knot, need you to fill me up, breed me, Alpha please-” Your sentence is cut off by his cock slamming into you, the filthy sound being drowned out by his groan. You gasp in relief, breathy thank you’s leaving you with each powerful thrust he delivers. His cock stretches you out so well, makes you go dizzy with the relief of finally having him in you. Your elbows give out nearly instantly, your chest hitting the mattress, and Jeno takes instant advantage of the new position to pull your hips even higher into the air.

It’s so good- almost too good- and it leaves you drooling and clawing at the sheets. All you can focus on is how well he’s fucking you, how he’s going to fill you up so well, breed you like he was meant to. 

You scream when he pulls out, alarm bells going off as your body instantly protests. It only lasts a second though, Jeno’s hands never leaving your body as he flips you onto your back. 

“Couldn’t see you,” Jeno pants out, dropping a kiss to the corner of your mouth and pushing back in, returning back to the brutal rhythm he had before. It has your eyes rolling in your head at how fucking good he feels. “My pretty baby, taking everything I give her.” 

He’s got you so fucked out that you don’t even realize your tongue is hanging out of your mouth until he pinches it between his thumb and index finger, pulling it out even more. “You love my cock, hmm? You love everything I give you.” The pad of his thumb rubs over your tongue, the sensation making your toes curl and tears slide down your cheeks. “Such a fucking needy omega, isn’t that right?” He tugs on your tongue, your head following his actions as he leads you into nodding.

Jeno laughs and lets go of your tongue, dropping his face down to kiss at your neck. He sucks mark after mark into your skin, licking over each one to soothe it after, until he finally gets to your most sensitive, vulnerable spot. Even just the feeling of him close to your mating mark has your entire body aching for it, your neck craning to the side and pushing into his touch. The leverage you get from your legs wrapped around his waist has him pushing even deeper into you and you can feel his knot at your entrance, not quite fully swollen but definitely getting there. It has you absolutely keening, the thought of being so totally owned making you desperate.The sweet drag of his cock along your walls paired with the absolute filth he’s spewing has your body locking up with no warning, your orgasm ripping through you. You arch off the bed, the action only pushing you further onto his cock.

“God y/n, fuck!” Jeno curses, slamming his hips into you with even more force, his knot popping into your entrance and forcing the neediest sound you’ve ever made to leave your lips. You desperately wrap your limbs around him, trying to get him even closer, digging your heels into his ass to push him further inside. He grinds his hips against you one, two, three more times before he shudders, teeth clamping down right on your sweet spot as he comes. Jeno seems to come forever, filling you up with delicious warmth, making your body purr in satisfaction. He finally comes down, having the clarity of mind to tip the two of you onto your sides so that he doesn’t crush you when he collapses. He still tugs you close, arm thrown around your body possessively, his chin resting atop of your head.

“Told you it was intense.” You laugh out, trying to break the silence in the room. The heat’s subsided for now, but you’re still barely in your mind, and you have no idea how long the break will last. 

He huffs out a laugh, chest shaking against you. “I understand Jaemin now.” His hand pets over your back, sliding up to the back of your neck and scratching lightly at the skin there. “You alright?” “Mhmm, yeah. Perfect.” His fingertips press lightly against the mating mark, sending sparks shooting down your spine, and it has your head spinning. You try to adjust yourself against him in an effort to keep your cool, but moving has his cock shifting inside of you and you sleepily grind against him, not thinking. Jeno hisses and tightens his grip on you to keep you still, but the way he grabs your leg has him shifting inside of you and pressing against all the right places. Heat floods through you and your grinding turns more urgent. 

“Ohgod,” You moan, finding enough strength to push Jeno flat on his back. Your body has a mind of its own and you find yourself bouncing desperately on his cock. His knot has you locked into place and you’re barely able to move, but you can still swirl and grind your hips against him, feel the delicious friction of his knot against your entrance. “Alpha, it feels so good.”

“Fuck, look at you. So fucking knotdrunk, hmm? Can’t get enough.” Jeno shakes his head, laughs in a way that’s meant to mock you but it comes out strained. His hands are heavy on your ass, squeezing and slapping to feel the way it jiggles, to feel the way you clench around him with every hit. You throw your head back and let him do as he pleases, losing yourself entirely in how full you feel, in how good his knot feels in you. He buries his face into your chest, moving one hand from your ass to play with your tits, his mouth wasting no time in marking the delicate skin up. 

“Shit baby, gonna make me cum again.” His lips seal over your mating mark again in a sloppy kiss and that’s exactly the final push that you need, your eyes rolling back and your tongue lolling out as your cunt spasms around him, orgasm ripping through you almost painfully. Jeno groans as well, hand flying to your back to pull you as close as possible, and his knot pulses inside of you as you swear you feel more cum shoot out.

He shudders against you, tight grip finally relaxing, though he still keeps you anchored to his chest. You follow suit, collapsing against him. A tired moan leaves you and you let yourself relax, lips absentmindedly mouthing at his skin. His hand pets your back soothingly, touch heavy and sluggish, and the last thing you feel before you fall asleep is his lips on your forehead.

[alimak]

Youth Is Wasted On The Inside

MASTERLIST

The day I heard classes were suspended for almost a week brought relief for me back then. I spent those days with ease and thought, “Finally, a four-day rest!”. I was all smiley and delighted to have a break from school… not until that “four-day suspension” lasted for two years. While I was at the beginning of my youthful age when the Coronavirus disease (COVID-19) started, I was rather locked and isolated instead of feeling the “I wish it could stay like this forever”. You know, being a teen forever, but instead, I had my overall well-being affected by the lockdown. I thought: Is this how I am going to spend my whole youth, locked inside my house?

Spending my teenage years to the fullest was one of my goals to ever achieve. Going to prom, going on a retreat trip and a field trip, and graduating junior high school with my former classmates were some enjoyable events that could add to my youthful years. I remember being excited for those days to come and I was planning ahead with my friends in school about what we’ll do when it happens. I wanted something memorable, just like those teen films. All I wanted was good times before I go to my senior year in high school and college.

As the pandemic came, I knew those moments would not occur, although there was a slight bit of hope remaining inside of me that everything would go back to normal when I enter the tenth grade. But, I was too gullible to think that such a disease would go away quickly and it made me depressed as time passed by. As I wait for the pandemic to end, I felt lost because everything changed, not in the way I wanted it to be. I thought waking up every 5 A.M. to go to school was the worst thing that I would go through, but coping in the midst of the pandemic beats it.

As I look back during the lockdown, I can’t help but think ways of how I can distract myself from boredom. I mean, we all had to and it was the hardest part for me because I am not consistent with hobbies–I also had limited resources to find one and my interest disperses because of it. I became more pressured rather than my school deadlines and exams. I have realized that this was probably the reason why I am too lazy to try new things out because I know I would give up too easily and I started to think if there was something wrong with me. Hence, it is also the reason why I spent most of my time on my phone–being online–all day and night.

At some point, doing all of these is a reassurance to myself that I don’t have to be like everyone else. I learned that I was pressured by social media to have a hobby because I saw everyone on TikTok working out, painting, sewing, reading, etc... I realized that I do not need to force myself to have a hobby–rather I need to focus on myself–what makes me enjoy life again. A way that It opened my mind in ways that taking care of myself was much better than anything else.

Eventually, my coping system was: I had to be outside. It is a way how I can handle my well-being over this whole phenomenon. I realized that I needed to be in a new environment every once in a while in order for my energy levels to heighten. I discovered that I like going to new places when my grandmother once told me to buy something from 7-11. I walked around for two hours around our area and I felt content when I got home that I had to write in my journal about the places I went to. Therefore, I figured that it is important for me to be in a place where it is not my house because I have been inside for too long and my mind wanted something new.

I believe that staying all the time at home can affect the mental health of people that it became an emotional trauma. Ever since COVID-19, everyone had no choice but to isolate in their own homes, which also restricted social interactions. Most of the people would only go outside for work or tasks to accomplish. It resulted to individuals increased percentages of depression and anxiety because of being only at home. According to BBC News, young ages were more affected from the impacts brought by the pandemic.

It came along with unwanted changes. Many teenagers have acquired social anxiety. It became hard for me to make friends because of being used to being alone at home and uneasiness builds up as face-to-face classes begin to initiate during this year. It is hard for me who is already shy, who become more shy because of isolation. In fact, it became a stress factor for socialize because it was something I was not used to do doing after being only at home. The changes were challenging.

Furthermore, a state of feeling lost is also a struggle for me. Many people think that time shifted during this pandemic. I did too, as I was mostly doing nothing all day; watching the time past by; study; and sleep. It was such a struggle to make something out of your time for the day, but to no avail it was also a struggle to do something. While for others, they had the luxury to keep themselves busy, but for me, it was challenging, especially when my enjoyments were outside of my home.

Being isolated at home brought unwanted circumstances and the challenge of feeling lost. It personally affected me in ways that it is hard to bring back the old me. I am not close to my old friends anymore and I started to become out of touch with my emotions.

With all of these occurrences, I can’t help rely on imaginations. I had to romanticize the remaining time of my teenage years because the pandemic robbed me from it. But, I do know that: You are trying. I am trying. We are all trying–to fill this emptiness in our supposed “most enjoyable” year of our lives.

As I went through this topic, I thought: healing the youth from the impacts brought by the pandemic can lessen the mental health issues that they face. There is acknowledgement to these issues, but a lack of action in it. This essay is a glimpse of the life of the youth in the midst of the pandemic and the struggle of coping in the “new normal”. I am calling out for schools and officials to provide free therapies and counseling for children. Mental health is a human right.

I conclude, to heal from emotional trauma caused by the pandemic should be included in the “new normal”.

BACK TO MASTERLIST

[naturecpw]

Shuteye and Sleep Hygiene: The Truth About Why You Keep Waking up at 3 a.m.

You eschew caffeine after lunch, have stopped drinking alcohol and eat healthily. But you’re still staring at the ceiling in the small hours. Here’s why. The Guardian   Elle Hunt

‘If you find yourself waking regularly during the night, flag it with your GP so they can consider any possible underlying causes.’

You land in your body with a start, or else it slowly comes into groggy focus: either way it’s night-time, but you are now awake. Why? Alice Gregory, a psychology professor at Goldsmiths, University of London and the author of Nodding Off, says it’s quite normal to wake up during the night.

After dropping off, we move through different stages of sleep, a cycle that takes the average adult about 90 minutes to complete and speeds up towards morning.

“The night is also punctuated by brief awakenings,” says Gregory. “Typically, people return to sleep without realising that they had ever been awake.” But sometimes we might at least be more aware of it, or pulled entirely awake. Reasons range from the fairly obvious (being too hot or cold, needing the loo, having a nightmare, a crying baby) to the medical (disordered breathing such as sleep apnea, or nocturia: excessive night-time urination). 

Waking up during the night does not necessarily mean you have insomnia, which, says Gregory, is diagnosed alongside other criteria such as the frequency of this occurrence and how long it has been happening. “If you find yourself waking regularly during the night, certainly flag this with your GP so they can consider any possible underlying causes.”

 Still, sleep deprivation takes its own toll, from irritability and reduced focus in the short term, to an increased risk of obesity, heart disease and diabetes. If you do find yourself regularly waking up without any apparent reason – what can you do about it?  

 “It’s a misconception that we sleep the night through – nobody ever does,” says the sleep coach Katie Fischer. Waking as much as five or seven times a night is not necessarily a cause for concern – the most important thing is how you feel when you get up. “In the morning, do you feel refreshed, or groggy and unable to function, 30 minutes after waking?”  

 If there is nothing to suggest an underlying medical issue, Fischer will look at the bigger picture with a patient. “It’s really important to know if they have children. Do they have a partner who snores, or works shifts?” she says. “They might not have their own sleep issues but they might be sleeping next to someone who does.” 

Lifestyle changes can make a big difference, even for people suffering from sleep apnoea (although that should be treated by a specialist). It is hackneyed to point the finger at caffeine, but people tend to underestimate how long its effects can last – Fischer says to stop consuming it by 2 p.m. or 3 p.m. Water intake during the day is also a factor: “Even going to bed mildly dehydrated can disrupt our sleep.” 

Similarly, although people commonly turn to alcohol to help them fall asleep – Fischer says one in 10 use it as a sleep aid – it has a disruptive effect beyond the initial crash, causing spikes in blood sugar and cortisol levels. Diet can function in the same way, with “anti-sleep foods” that are high in sugar or cause flatulence or heartburn (such as broccoli and cabbage).

  A “pro-sleep” bedtime snack is a small amount of complex carbohydrates and protein, such as wholegrain cereal with milk, or toast with peanut butter, says Fischer. An “anti-inflammatory” diet favouring fruits, vegetables, lean protein, nuts, seeds and healthy fats (and limiting processed foods, red meats and alcohol) has been shown to improve sleep apnea.

As for exercise, although being active during the day aids sleep, anything strenuous is to be avoided before bedtime. A lot of advice for preventing night-time “awakenings” falls under the umbrella of what has come to be known as “good sleep hygiene”: restrict the bedroom to sleep and sex, ban screens emitting blue light, keep to regular bedtimes and so on.

Our bedrooms – even our beds – have come to double as home cinemas, offices, “a dining room, maybe,” says the sleep consultant Maryanne Taylor. “You would be amazed at how significant that is for sleep. You’re training to associate your bed with wakefulness.” For that reason, if you do struggle to fall back asleep on waking up during the night, the advice is to get up for a bit. “Don’t just lie there – it’s counterproductive.” 

 So, too, is looking at the clock, especially if it doubles as your phone. “As soon as your brain has registered that it’s 2 a.m., you convince yourself that that’s your lot,” says Taylor. Such worry loops might be waking you up in the first place.

 For many of us, bedtime might be our first opportunity of the day to be alone with our thoughts, she says. “It’s connected to waking in the night because, if we haven’t had any processing time during the day, it’s the first time we stop and just be.” Managing stress and anxiety during waking hours and learning how to relax body and mind are key to a good night’s sleep – but ironically, fixating on getting your full eight hours can make it harder to achieve. “You get this awful self-fulfilling prophecy that’s quite hard to break,” says Fischer.  

 A mindset change may be what’s needed. “People might have this belief that they are a ‘bad sleeper’ and there is nothing that they can do about it. Sometimes it’s about changing people’s perceptions of what good sleep looks like.” Taylor says she “really cannot bear” fitness trackers, which monitor sleep, for focusing people’s minds on often inaccurate data. It is wrong to assume that you must sleep through the night, every night, she says. “We all have blips in our sleep – it’s never going to be that you sleep brilliantly all the time.”

But accepting that – even as you lie awake, hours before dawn – might be the first step towards it.                    

https://getpocket.com/explore/item/shuteye-and-sleep-hygiene-the-truth-about-why-you-keep-waking-up-at-3am?utm_source=pocket-newtab

What Happened When I Forced Myself To Wake Up At 5 A.M. Every Day For A Month

What Happens to Your Body When You Wake Up at 5 a.m. Every Day

7 Morning Habits That Can Affect Your Entire Day

Scott YoungThe 5 Keys to Falling Asleep On Time Every Night

If You Love Staying Up Late and Sleeping In, Doing Otherwise Might Actually Hurt Your Health

[fearsmagazine]

Cool Off this Summer with a Cage Dive Featuring a 38-Ft Kronosaur

Her name is Yoko Krono, and she’s just one of a dozen prehistoric sea creatures ready to meet you on a 24-7 virtual vacation the entire family will enjoy. Welcome to www.SeaMonsterCove.com, arguably one of the most original and ambitious entertainment venues ever imagined. The creative force that recruited an international team of 3D animators, 2D artists, engineers, actors, producers and an ancient shark museum curator is Steve Alten, author of the NY Times bestselling MEG series, the source material for the 2018 summer blockbuster, The MEG, starring Jason Statham.

“The story that runs through every offering at Sea Monster Cove, from our Virtual Aquarium Experiences (VAEs) where visitors can interact with the most terrifying sea creatures that ever lived, to our two new interactive video games and two TV series (Where Sea Monsters Roam and The Adventures of Snowflake & Layla), came to me back in December of 2019,” Alten recalls. “I remember waking up at 4 a.m. and lying in bed enjoying a rare moment of peace and calm — no rigidity or tremors. (Alten was diagnosed 15 years ago with young onset Parkinson’s disease). Out of nowhere the beats for an entirely new prehistoric shark and sea monster adventure series hit me. So I dragged myself upstairs to my office and began searching for the key to the entire story — a remote island that somehow I knew was out there — and there it was, Maug.”

Enter www.SeaMonsterCove.com, and you are guided through a quick history of Maug, a remote (and very real) island located in the Northern Marianas. What lies beneath Maug became the basis of Alten’s story — a 380 million-year-old aquifer filled with the most terrifying sea creatures that ever lived.

“There are two major complexes on Maug Island,” Alten explains. “Sea Monster Cove holds six marine habitats that date back to different eras in our history, while the O-Quarium is home to our star attraction, Snowflake.” Snowflake may sound meek, but the albino Mako shark is a 63-foot, 25-ton monster best viewed via one of the suites at the Black Demon Inn, a 5-star hotel with suites that back up to the main tank. Snowflake is waiting for you there, circling outside your bedroom window.

At SeaMonsterCove.com, the special effects are motion picture-worthy, and the wildlife doesn’t just swim around in benign circles; in fact, they seem quite aware that you are watching them, and some of them clearly do not like it, especially when you enter their domain to do a little “cage diving.” In each of these heart-pounding, 360-degree experiences, the user controls the viewing angle, attempting to track the attacks as they happen (there are day and night versions available). The action is nonstop and the creatures so real that it is easy to lose yourself in a two-hour reprieve from reality.

Other features at SeaMonsterCove.com include Alten’s episodic TV series, Where Sea Monsters Roam; an animated TV series, The Adventures of Snowflake & Layla; and two original video games, Run Layla Run and Where Sea Monsters Roam. There’s also an education center and a private library offering enhanced versions of Alten’s novels as well as teacher curriculum materials for distance learning.

And Alten isn’t quite done with movies yet. The MEG sequel, MEG-2: The TRENCH, is in pre-production, as is The LOCH (a thriller about the Loch Ness Monster) along with one other underwater feature, which cannot be announced just yet (but the enhanced version of the novel is available in the website’s private library). Steve Alten is also the founder and director of the nonprofit Adopt-an-Author teen reading program, considered by many educators to be the most effective tool to get reluctant readers to read.

For a tour of Sea Monster Cove, visit: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H0oTETgbs5c. And meet the newest attraction, Yoko Krono, here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wF99P20moks.

[dianapana]

SasuHina Month 2020- Day 13

Prompt:  Met Gala + Indirect Kiss.

Prologue 

Sasuke POV

I wake up when my phone just won’t stop ringing. I’ve ignored it for about 15 minutes but the damn thing just won’t shut up. With my eyes still closed I roll on my side and blindly search for the phone on my nightstand. It stops ringing just as I get my hand on it but it starts again the moment after. Without looking who it is I pick up and place it to my ear.

“Have you seen it?” my agent asks sounding part annoyed and part tired.

“Seen what?” I ask and take the phone from my ear to check the hour, it’s barely fucking 7 a.m. It’s my time off, I can’t believe he woke me up at 7 fucking a.m.

“Twitter. You have gone viral” he says; I can already picture him; his teeth are clenched and the vein on his forehead is about to pop.

“Why? How did I go viral when I did literally nothing?” I have no notifications on my phone besides the billion missed calls from him. It’s true most people aren’t awake this early in the morning and I always turn my internet off on my phone before going to bed; the notifications wake me up otherwise.

“Check it and we have to have a meeting. I’ll call the other agents and talk about how this should be handled.” He says and disconnects.

I’m tempted to ignore his call and go back to sleep but I know myself and now that I am up, I won’t be able to fall asleep again. Still instead of checking twitter right away I get up to take a shower and have some breakfast. Only after I’ve finished eating and drinking my coffee do I turn on my internet and I am immediately spammed from every social media app there is. I have been tagged and mentioned in a lot of posts. I click one of the tweets and it simply says “@SasukeUchia @HinataHyuga

#SasuHina

That’s it. That’s the tweet”

There are many other tweets similar in notion and they all have the #SasuHina, and each of them has over 70k retweets and comments and 150k likes. I am still extremely confused by what is happening. I keep scrolling until I reach a tweet that has pictures, the pictures are from last night’s Met Gala.

I start recalling my memories from last night

We were barely in the car when the night started going sour. Sakura was texting away on her phone with a speed I had never seen before, she was frowning and her mood was just…awful. Naruto kept sneezing, before we started getting ready, he had a fight with his and Hinata’s agents; he didn’t want to attend because of his cold but they pushed him; Hinata kept looking at him with sympathy and offering him tissues. We were 5 minutes away from the venue when Sakura put her phone away, no longer looking angry but more tired. Her shoulders were lowered and she burst into tears. Neither or us knew what to do for a moment before Hinata moved and rubbed her back for a moment.

“Sakura what’s wrong?” Hinata asked softly and did her best to dab her tears away without smudging her make-up.

“She broke up with me.” The air fizzled with anxiety for a moment. Sakura and her girlfriend whose name she never revealed to us, had been having problems since the fake dating thing started back in November. Honestly, I had never expected them to last that much; does that make me a dick? Maybe. But almost 5 months had passed and that’s a long time to be fighting with somebody. The car stopped and we had to get out and do the red-carpet walk. Sakura’s eyes were red just as Naruto’s nose. All in all we were a mess.

For a second, we all stood still, I was considering telling the driver to just take us back to the hotel but Sakura took the initiative and told us to move; so, we did. Naruto exited first and helped Hinata out. Her dress was massive so she needed a helping hand. I waited for the two to take a few steps away from the car before I got up and helped Sakura; thankfully she didn’t have a huge dress on but a pantsuit so it was easier for us to walk around and move.

As usually reporters kept screaming their questions at us even if we never actually answer any of them. Paparazzi too followed their normal routine and kept asking us to kiss but we didn’t. It didn’t feel right; Sakura was heartbroken and I’m pretty sure Hinata didn’t kiss Naruto because she didn’t want to catch his cold. After a hundred flashes blinded us, we made our way to the inside of the venue. Despite the fact that they had forced Naruto to come, our agents were kind enough to say we could leave early if we wanted to; I was quite sure, actually I was certain that we would.

The night went on as normal for a while, we chatted among ourselves, with other celebrities we did all you were supposed to do at this type of event. Sakura went to the bathroom to “check her make-up” but I heard her phone rang so I put one and one together and assumed she’d be in there for a while talking on the phone. Naruto and Hinata had split for a moment to go talk to different people and I took the opportunity to get myself some water. When i returned with my water, I walked back to where Hinata was sitting alone.

This is where apparently the night went wrong; the first pictures are from this following 5 minutes

As I’ve mentioned before Hinata and I aren’t close so even when I went to stand by her side we didn’t really talk. I took another sip of my water and looked around the room thinking we had stayed long enough and that we could leave soon. I turned to Hinata to tell her my idea and she too seemed eager to leave. I put my glass of water on the table behind us.

“You don’t want that anymore?” She asked and I shook my head, putting my hands into my pockets. She took the glass and drank the rest. I saw nothing weird then and I see nothing weird about it now, the past half year we’ve been shoved together so much that despite not knowing each other we were comfortable. Naruto finished talking and he was looking for us; I nodded towards the door telling him silently that we were ready to bounce and he nodded back.

“I’ll go look for Sakura so we can all leave” Hinata said and took a step forward, she hadn’t held onto the skirt of her dress and stepped on it and stumbled, so I did what everyone would do in that case; I caught her. I held onto her waist and arm until she was back on her feet and stable. She looked up at me with red cheeks; probably from the embarrassment that could have been and thanked me. I let go of her and she went on to find Sakura. The two of them returned soon; Sakura had cried some more, it was obvious from the redness of her eyes and the smudged make-up. The two girls walked in front of us and we all moved quite fast so the paparazzi couldn’t take clear pictures of us. We got into the limo and left. Instead of going to the hotel where we all got ready, we asked the limo to take each of us home. Sakura lived the closest; than Naruto; Hinata and I were last. We were alone in the limo a maximum of 10 minutes which she spent with her eyes closed her head tilted back. When we got to where she lived, I got out of the limo to help her with the dress and walked her to the elevator so she wouldn’t fall again. We hugged good night and I went on my way. I got home took a shower, put on some boxers and went to sleep. I slept until I was woken by my agent and now, I’m looking at the pictures on this twitter thread.

The first one is me holding my glass water, the second is of me drinking, then the glass is on the table and the final one is Hinata drinking from it. The most liked comment under these pictures is the one saying “So they just swapping saliva like nobody’s business. Can I get and ‘indirect kiss’ please? Anyone?”

The next pictures are of me when I caught her; my arms around her waist and her looking up at me flushed. I know how that looks out of context…The comments on this one vary, but most of them have the word ‘swoon’ in them.

The next pictures are of me helping her out of the car, me walking her to the door, us hugging but the angle on the last one is weird and I have a suspicion that whatever scumbag paparazzi followed us did that intentionally. It doesn’t look like a simple hug. It looked like a kiss. This tweet has the most likes and comments and as I’m looking at it, people keep liking it and retweeting. It has over 170k likes.

I scroll for a while longer and I keep seeing the same few pictures and just people making up something that really isn’t there. I stop when I see a picture of us leaving. Hinata looks at Sakura with sad eyes; Sakura’s eyes are visible you can tell she has been crying; Naruto is behind and he had just sneezed and they caught him with a weird expression on that looks similar to disgust and I just look tired. That certain post has the SasuHina hashtag but it’s a hate post. The thread goes on and on saying how disgusted this person is with me and Hianta for breaking Naruto and Sakura’s heart. How we’re cruel for doing that in public and so on. Another person points out the fact that unlike normally we did not kiss for the paparazzi. They keep on piling up evidence from nothing.

I keep scrolling and scrolling and even after almost 2 hours I can’t reach the beginning of the hashtag. We returned home at about 1 or 2 in the morning. How could this happen in 5 hours?

I walk to my bedroom, put my phone down and lay down. My phone keeps buzzing with each notification. I only looked on twitter. But the notifications come from every social media platform that I am on. I don’t know how we are going to fix that. We could tell the truth that nothing is there but misleading pictures. We could even go as far as to tell everyone that the dating was fake all along. That would be a huge relief for all of us I am certain.

My phone rings a few moments later and I see it’s Naruto. The fact that he’s awake at 9 in the morning is concerning.

“Dude. People took 7 pictures out of context and made a literal drama. I had like 25 texts from random actresses telling me that it’s such a shame Hinata and I broke up and that they are there for me if I need the comfort”

“Yea it’s all a mess.” I say and sigh loudly.

“Did you get any kind of shade?” He asks and he sound concerned.

“No, what do you mean?”

“Well I just talked to Hinata for about 30 minutes. She was really upset. Apart from you and hers ship name trending and most of her accounts gaining a lot of new followers she said she got a shit ton of hate too. People messaging her telling her she’s a whore and shit like that. People are disgusting man”

I clench my teeth and just say that I got nothing. I can’t fucking believe they are slut shaming her. I mean I do believe it I know that people suck but it still feels so wrong and unfair. They are shaming her only and not me. She’s the female and society has decided she is the bad one, she is the one with the fault, the one to blame. I hang up with Naruto and look for Hinata’s number in my phone. I want to text her and see if she’s ok. I feel bad and responsible.

I start laughing like a maniac when I realize I don’t even have her fucking number. We’ve been coworkers from 8 years and I don’t have her number, I know literally nothing about her. And three interactions have been blown out of proportions by people and fucked with our lives.

A couple hours later all 4 of us and our agents are in a meeting. Hinata looks ok, maybe a little annoyed, I was worried she’d be crying or throw a fit. Naruto’s cold seems to be worse; he looked like a zombie and Sakura has sunglasses on, inside so I can only assume she’s feeling peachy too.

“We haven’t yet decided how to handle this but the damage is done I don’t think we can simply deny the pictures and go back to normal, nor do we really want to. The SasuHina thing is bigger than anything we’ve seen in a while” My agent states and looks to the others to go on.

“Maybe the best course of action is to come clean, tell everyone that the two couples split up a while ago but you guys are still really good friends and on amazing terms which is why you didn’t want to make it public yet and create any sort of drama” Sakura’s agent is the one to speak next and he does look to be a bit regretful. Had this happened a few days faster maybe Sakura and her girlfriend wouldn’t have broken up, pretty sure most of us are thinking that.

“But we won’t be addressing the SasuHina thing yet; if someone asks about it during an interview in the following weeks you all have to say ‘no comment’” My agent added.

“Why? Won’t that make them think we are dating…?” Hinata asks and her agent nods.

“It’s vague. You don’t say no and you don’t say yes either. The amount of exposure you two are getting right this moment is huge. We even got a few shows calling asking for the two of you to be the protagonists” Her agent says and stops for a second for, what I can only assume is dramatic effect. “One of the offers is a really huge movie that people have been waiting for a long time but it kept getting postponed, it is after a book and the writer has the last say when it comes to casting and she never liked any of the actors but this time she is the one that contacted us not the casting director. All you have to do is go audition and the roles will be yours”

I haven’t really started looking into new roles yet, despite Naruto being done for almost half an year we’ve still been very busy with other things still about it. There’s even a talk about them wanting to film a documentary with us actors talking about the journey and how we think we differ from our character and such. But having options is always good and even if I do get casted and don’t really enjoy the role, I can always turn it down. I look to Hinata and she too is in deep thought but her eyes raise to mine and I rise an eyebrow towards her and she shrugs and nods.

Just when I thought the fake dating was over with…We both say we’d like to audition for this movie and our agents start moving on super speed making phone calls, organizing conferences, booking plane tickets and hotels. The buzz of the Naruto ending was just starting to fade a little and I thought I could have a few weeks off but it seems that’s not in the books for me.

[mightpunchgodlateridk]

It's 3AM and I have to be awake in five hours for class

Embedded in the notes app of my iPhone is a message typed out in the haze of an early late night morning. It sits long forgotten, a product of my brain that shall likely never be found. The note reads, “The most important stage in a negative cycle is false recovery. If you feel as though you’ve come out on top then you needn’t fear slipping back under, and so you do not care when you do.” I remember going to the store yesterday. I bought the essentials: bread, milk, tea, and a miniature pumpkin they had on display for the holiday. I thought it was cute, so I paid the $5 asked for it and placed it out on my front step to be enjoyed by any neighbor who happened to walk by or glance at my house. But… was that yesterday? I stepped outside this morning to watch the sunrise, and as I crossed the threshold onto my front porch, I saw a rotted hunk of pumpkin flesh there at my feet. It looked as though it had been sat there for weeks, maybe even months, although I swear I just bought it yesterday.

My bed is comfortable. It’s where I spend most of my time nowadays, so it has to be. I lie on my pile of plush pillows and soft blankets for hours, staring at the walls and humming to myself a tune that does not exist, one I will forget as soon as it ends, or looking at something on my phone that will leave me just as quickly. I glance up at my window, my red curtain casting warm light throughout my room as the morning sun shines through. I look away, the tune I hum is short and sweet, a fleeting song that makes me feel good while it lasts. I look back to my window. The sky is dark and I can no longer see the red of my curtain through the thick shadows. The clock on my phone reads 1:40 A.M.. The kitchen and a dinner that is eaten hours after what is socially acceptable feels like a safer place to be than my room tonight.

I’ve been wearing the same pair of pants for three days. It’s just that every time I get out of the shower I search my room for fresh clothes to wear, and I always find the pile of dirty laundry hidden in my closet. I always say I’ll do it tomorrow, but I wake up in the morning and what was supposed to be tomorrow is two weeks from now. Jeans are not comfortable for the days I spend inside alone, so I just lay down still wearing the same pair of sweatpants. I think about how I always feel slightly dirty, even after a shower. My bedsheets have not been changed, my clothes removed and put back on without a wash, my room in shambles, books and papers strewn every which way. I think about how my environment is not conducive to a healthy and happy lifestyle, how it is definitely making me feel worse. I think about all this as I lie in my bed, close to dreaming but not quite. When I wake up two weeks after, the mess is gone from my mind, and I am instead focused on what I need to do to get through the day, how I can most easily reach the time where I can crawl back into my not quite clean bed, and become as comfortable as I can be in my not quite clean skin.  

I do not remember the last time I ate. I follow my body, it tells me when I’m hungry and when I’m not. Sometimes the hunger leaves for days, and I do not realize it until it begins clawing at my insides and shrieking for attention. Then it demands to be heard, and I crawl my way to the kitchen and do not think about what I am putting in my body to appease it. I do what I can so I am able to move on, ignore it until the next time I feel like I should return to the kitchen. I think I was in there an hour ago, or maybe it was three, or an entire day gone by without stepping foot on the cold linoleum floor. The dishes I never have energy to clean stare at me whenever I enter, reminding me that I was there, even if I do not remember for what, or when. 

In between eating I make tea. My tea is herbal, it tastes like flowers and the sunshine I never get to see anymore. I bring countless cups into my room and set them on my bedside table. They are too hot to drink immediately, so I waste time seeking those things that bring me sparks of joy, as many as I can in quick succession so I do not have a moment to feel empty. By the time I remember my tea, it has gone cold. Nobody likes cold tea, so I get up and dump it out. I feel bad wasting good tea, we don’t have the money to toss whole cups of tea, but my mom does not know. If she isn’t angry about it then it is easier to push my guilt to the back of my mind and brew another cup of hot tea. This one I’ll drink, I tell myself. An hour later I am back in the kitchen, pouring a cold cup of herbal tea into the sink. I set my mug down, maybe it’s better to give up on tea for the time being. 

There is a mirror in my room that I try not to look at. It is hidden behind a curtain, I often forget it is there as I try to forget I have a physical form that can be viewed by my eyes. The tack holding the curtain up falls. I turn on my lights and go to fix it, accidentally catching a glimpse of myself in the process. I forget about fixing the curtain and sit down in front of my mirror. I take in the sight I have not seen in far too long. My gaze catches on my eyes, I look into them and know that I am looking at myself. I see all the emotion that I try not to think about, the loneliness that I cover up by taking solace in being alone, the anger at everyone else for not dragging me out of hiding despite my proclamations that I don’t want them to, the sadness, the fear, my detached existence that can never quite seem to ground itself. I sit in front of this mirror and confront everything I’ve been avoiding during those sleepless nights and timeless days. Behind me the light shifts rapidly between light and dark. I can feel the passage of time in the ache of my body, but the mirror keeps me stuck and unable to move. My phone pings at me, trying to let me know that I’ve been gone longer than is normal, my friends and family are getting concerned. I am stuck. There is a weight on my shoulders that pins me to the floor and forces me to stare at myself in this godforsaken mirror. I scream at myself, cry and plead with my own mind, asking it to allow me to do something, anything that is not sitting here and looking at myself. I want to escape, seek a spark of happiness, hum a tune, take a shower, eat something, anything, everything, brew a cup of tea - but I am held here. The world calls to me as desperately as I call to it, but we cannot reach each other. 

I am freed by loss of consciousness and wake up in my bed. My mirror is covered by the curtain again, and there is a fresh cup of hot tea at my bedside. I drink the tea before it gets cold, placing the empty cup back on the table. I stand and take my laundry down to the basement, starting a load. I get changed and go to the store, I buy the essentials and return home, minus the miniature pumpkin I bought yesterday. I do not lie in bed, I do not forget where I am or when I ate. I do not look in the mirror, for there is nothing to see. I am safe, I am grounded, I am clean. My eyes sparkle with energy and confidence, they definitely do not have any hidden emotion in them. I have no secrets to face now that I have conquered them all.

A voice gnaws at the back of my mind. It laughs at me. I’ll see you in two weeks, it says. Just go to sleep. 

[emilyplaysotome]

The Game of Love - Chapter 1

Since I have a bad tendency to obsess over what I write until I give up on it, I’m posting the first chapter of something new I’ve been dabbling with. Think of it like an original Down the Voltage Rabbit Hole, without the characters you know.

Meeting someone special is hard for anyone, but more so when you’re famous.

I can’t tell you when it was that I went from being Hana to being Hana on a billboard, but it happened slowly enough that I went from eating virtually unnoticed at a restaurant to being bombarded with selfie requests during the short time I picked up my food. I suppose that being one of the youngest women to ever win a Grand Slam will force you into the spotlight, but I’ve never thought of myself as a superstar.

The goal had always been to win gold at the Olympics.

Maybe Roland Garros.

And Wimbledon.

The U.S. and Australian Open if I was lucky.

They never told me that if you win the Australian Open and then manage to win the others in the same year, the world goes mad. They never told me that Nike, Adidas, and Reebok fall all over themselves trying to get you to agree to let them put out the “Hana shoe” and you go from being a struggling journeywoman on the tour to being richer than you ever could have imagined, thanks mostly to your team who milks you for every free moment when you’re not on the court.

You learn how to wear dresses and talk on camera and carry the weight of what it means to be a champion, constantly looking over your shoulder at the younger, hungrier crowd behind you that works twice as hard and trains harder because they don’t need to be on Good Morning America when you do. Your identity becomes “Hana the Tennis Champion” and you forget who you were when you were just “Hana, the girl who loves tennis” – hitting balls after dinner with dad on the courts by your house or joking around with the girls on the junior tour.

Those girls become competition, and your friendship is forced to change despite wanting it to be the way it was when things were simpler. They are nice and you love them, but the feelings are complicated and you forget what it means to have friends who see you as you are. There is always a commitment, a show, a movie, a project, a product – even during the off season, and of course, there’s the training.

You’re grateful to be successful doing what you love, but you know it can’t last forever and one day you decide you want to go out on top and announce that you’re done with the game that up until this point has been your entire life.

And you’re only 32.

I’m only 32.

The day after I retired I woke up as Hana, for the first time in 20 years. I suppose it’s out of habit that I still wake up at 7 A.M. and go for a run, but it’s been a few months and not much has changed.

My mom suggested I get a therapist.

That this major transition would be hard on anyone, but even harder on a prodigy who has been used to a regimented training schedule since she was 11.

I laughed it off, but after a couple of weeks I could feel the unease nagging at me, mocking me, asking me, “Who is Hana if there is no tennis?”

My therapist says a lot of high achieving people struggle with their self-worth outside of their profession. She challenged me to reconnect with friends I’d made at all stages of my life and I learned that being great at one thing left little time for love, creativity, music, and hobbies.

I also learned that I didn’t make many friends in my 32 years since I was too focused, too dialed in to waste time on anything outside of the goal. To be the best in the world I had taken on the mentality that everything outside of my goal was superfluous, but now I struggle to make it through the day.

“Who is Hana if there is no tennis?”

“I am…I am…”

“What are you feeling Hana?” my therapist asks.

“Scared. Confused. Angry. Lost.”

I’d had this rosy image of retirement, where I’d leisurely wake up next to a partner and make breakfast for us. Not just any partner if I’m being honest…him.

“I wake up at 7 A.M. and run 5 miles,” I find myself saying. “Then I make a breakfast smoothie. And then I remember that I don’t have anywhere to be and the depression takes over.”

“Have you been doing interviews?”

I shrug, “Not as many. They asked me to do commentary for the U.S. Open this year and I said I’d think about it.”

“What is your hesitation?”

I pause, thinking about what it would be like to live a tournament without participating in it. To see and comment on someone’s legacy that wasn’t my own. To one day have to announce that I’d been dethroned in my achievements and smile as if it didn’t bother me, when I’d probably just wonder if I’d retired too early.

“I never wanted to be on television. And I want to be able to answer the question who Hana is if there is no tennis.”

“It sounds like this time is providing you with a beautiful gift – to explore that question and your interests without limitations.”

She’s right, and I feel guilty for pitying myself when I have the freedom to do and go wherever I want. I let out a caustic chuckle and say, “I want to live in my games.”

“The ones you used to play on the road?”

I nod, wondering how serious she thinks I am and wondering if the statement is a joke at all.

“Why do you think you like them so much?”

“It’s fun to be someone who isn’t Hana. And it’s fun to fall in love.”

“Has Hana ever been in love?”

I think for a minute and nod.

“But you knew that, didn’t you?” I ask.

She shrugs and pushes her glasses up.

“I’m asking Hana the person, not Hana the superstar.”

“But our breakup was all over the tabloids…”

“Our time together is about you, not what’s in a tabloid.”

“Superstars have to date superstars. It’s like a law,” I say laughing. “What would Instagram think if I gave them anything other than aspirational?”

I’m lying but I can’t help myself, even in therapy my pride gets in the way of being honest. Dating him was never about appearances, at least, it wasn’t for me.

“Tell me about him.”

Eight years of memories flash in my mind, 22 to 30.

“We met after I won my first major. His movie premiere had him in Australia and he got tickets to the final. We ended up at an after party together and he gave me his number. It was good until it wasn’t and then he broke up with me.”

“That’s a very condensed version.”

I shrug again, feeling bitter that he seems to have moved on just fine and I haven’t dated anyone despite the rumors that pop up from time to time. I don’t feel like talking about how I kept pushing for us to move forward, with a vision for my retirement and life with him as he kept pushing for me to stay on the road. I don’t feel like talking about how much of our time was spent apart and how I suspected he preferred things that way.

That it was better to have a girlfriend too busy to take up more than an hour of his day on a regular basis than a girlfriend who could be present the way she wanted to be when we were together.

A pleasant chime goes off and she silences the alarm, noting we’re out of time and asking if next week works.

“My schedule is free,” I joke, but I feel annoyed that there’s nothing but endless free time and nothing to do with it.

When I’m home I open the games I referenced in therapy – the ones I jokingly call “choose your anime romance adventure games” with my mom versus their proper designation of “otome” games, as they’re known with the fandom online that I’m a part of. It’s only when I’m online that I feel like I can momentarily answer the question that nags at me, and that’s because no one know I’m me.

HanaLovesOtome the tumblr user is popular because of the screenshots she posts, not because she’s one of the most celebrated athletes of a generation.

She participates in every event and has spent an ungodly amount of money on special date stories and lottery gatcha items that put her consistently in the top ten featured users of Ikemen Inc.

She’s popular because people will ask her to purchase stories and games they can’t afford, and she’ll video record herself playing or twitch live stream the sessions so everyone can get a sense of what it’s like to fall in love with Ikemen Inc.’s most exclusive bachelors.

Even when I was on tour, I loved playing otome games because for a couple of hours I could stop thinking about my life and instead lose myself in a world overseas where I get to make choices for a protagonist whose name I’ve made my own as I decide what eligible bachelor she’ll fall in love with.

I’d found the games a year before we’d broken up, mostly by chance after seeing an ad on twitter that boasted, “The Perfect Boyfriend is in your phone - meet him now!” While normally I would have continued to scroll past, something about the caption had stopped me in my tracks. Looking back it was probably because the idea of the “perfect boyfriend” being in my phone was ironic having had such a drawn out long distance relationship in which it often felt that he only existed in my life virtually.

After entering my name for the main character I would be controlling, “Decoding His Affections” thrust me into a world that consisted of a simple illustrated background, paired with a cartoon character sprite whose various expressions matched the dialogue being said in the text box where the story played out.

While the prologue of “Decoding His Affections” was free, it ended with a prompt asking me who out of the five characters I’d just met, I wanted to get to know as my Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department partner and future perfect boyfriend. For the low price of $3.99, I could purchase one of five options and determine how my protagonist would fall in love. Depending on my dialogue selections, I was either granted a “Love Ending!” or a less desired “Happy Ending!”

Throughout the course of 13 interactive chapters, Sebastian went from being my underling, to my partner, and finally, to my boyfriend. As the protagonist with my name started to fall for Sebastian, I found myself enjoying the escape from my reality with a game “self” who always met with a positive response in love.

I soon found myself lost in a world where I could be transparent with my intentions without any fear of rejection. Sebastian clearly liked my main character back, but was conflicted about falling for a woman whose time in Tokyo had an expiration date. Even though their relationship was in a grey zone for the majority of the game, he was always warm, always loving, and most importantly, had responses that gave me butterflies as I read his poetic musings from a cold hotel room after a long day of training.

Seeing as how these games were a product of Japan, in addition to the subdued romance I also found myself getting a kick out of the cultural differences that were peppered throughout the story. Simple gestures such as the time that Sebastian grabbed her hand in order to protect her from an impending explosion, resulted in a shook inner monologue where my heroine wondered if her heart was racing from the danger, or because of the physical contact. There was something sweet about this world in which men and women shared a shyness around physical touching that was unlike anything I’d ever experienced as a Western woman. Handshakes, hugs, and even kisses on the cheek were something that happened in my life on a daily basis, yet I was suddenly living in a world via my phone where every gesture was laced with romantic subtext.

It was clear that the only thing Ikemen Inc. changed in their games was the names of their clearly Japanese love interests, in order to better appeal to a western audience. Other than that, their games remained true to their point of origin.

Looking back, our relationship was already strained with me hinting towards my expiration date and him pushing me to stay on the tour. The day I’d played my first otome game we were bickering over text about it, him convinced it would be better for both of us if I refocused on my career instead of settling down with him in his Calabasas home. As I achieved Sebastian’s coveted “Love Ending!” thanks to my carefully selected dialogue choices, I surprised myself by tearing up in which I read an ending where Sebastian confessed to me, or moreover the woman I whose life I was intermittently controlling, his undying love.

I’d felt a bit foolish at the time, having fallen prey to simple plot devices and romantic tropes, however Sebastian had done something for me that my relationship could not.

He’d managed to touch that part deep in my heart that still wanted to believe that romance was possible in this world, and more importantly, was possible for me.

In the weeks to come I found myself leaning on these games more and more as it became clear that my vision for the future did not align with his, it felt like every free second I was pouring myself into my fantasy life. By the time he ended things, I’d made way through the entire Ikemen Inc. catalogue of premium games and started to make my way into the exclusives with a higher price point, more beautifully illustrated scenes (CGs), and the Ikemen Inc. community leaderboard.

I play them a lot lately.

Maybe too much.

When I log in to my tumblr I see a message from my friend KittyGirl.

OMG Hana! Did you see they released Tyler Holland?

I saw and I played and I’m posting the full vid on twitch later ;)

…

I wonder who KittyGirl is as she types, and I wonder if she ever wonders who I am. I wonder if she would care if I was Hana the superstar or if she even follows tennis.

A lot of the girls on here don’t.

A lot of the girls on here are much younger than I am.

I wonder if it’s weird I don’t have many friends my age and that the people I feel closest to at the moment are all usernames in my feed.

STOP HANA YOURE THE BEST!

I smile because it gives me a sense of purpose and I haven’t felt that for some time.

It’s really good. He might be in my top 5 boyfriends.

NO. Really!?

Really.

Sometimes I wish that the men in my phone would come to life. That one day I would wake up and Sebastian would be there in human form, not his two-dimensional anime character form. I’ve thought about what he would look like if he were real.

Not just him.

Him and all the others I’ve dated over the years.

I wonder what it’d be like to date someone you know would never leave you.

Who could be that perfect boyfriend, or husband, or father.

It’s just as I’m thinking about this again that my phone chimes, letting me know I’ve received an email. I’m surprised to see it’s from Ikemen Inc. and that HanaLovesOtome has been invited along with the four other top Ikemen community users for an all-expenses paid, one month vacation to Ikemen’s Dream Resort.

My gut reaction is to scream, “Yes!” but then I remember I’m Hana the superstar.

What would people think if they found out?

What would the tabloids write if they saw me?

I pause.

Who is Hana if there is no tennis?

Hana is HanaLovesOtome.

And so I write an email back, deciding not to loop in my management team, and let the team at Ikemen Inc. know that I would be delighted to experience the resort. The response back is immediate and includes additional details and an NDA.

I skim the details of the agreement, relieved that I am not allowed to talk about the experience as that means no one else will and my identity as Hana the superstar will most likely be off limits to the press and send it back.

It all happens quickly and before the hour is up I’ve managed to secure my spot in the Ikemen Fan 5.

In the two weeks leading up to my departure, I no longer feel depressed or as if time stretches out in a way that makes me feel small and insignificant. I have an event to look forward to and arrangements to be made.

My therapist thinks a solo trip will be good for me and encourages me to journal and continue with the homework she’s given me outside of our sessions. My mom agrees that it will be good for me to have a real vacation which is something I haven’t had in years.

I’ve seen the world through touring but I’ve never really had time for tourism.

To that point, when I get on the plane it strikes me that this is my first time on a plane without the purpose of coming from or going to a tournament. I check two large suitcases and still bring a racquet in case I need the release of losing myself in a training session or two, despite the fact my performance no longer matters.

I wear the sunglasses I always wear to obscure my identity in first class and a wig and baseball hat and n95 mask, which always does the trip. At Narita airport, I see a man holding a sign that says “HanaLovesOtome” and I follow him to a town car that takes me two hours outside of Tokyo proper. It’s only when we pull off the main road, down a long skinny isolated one that I take off my disguise and breathe a sigh of relief that I managed not to attract the attention of any photographers or fans.

In my head I always saw Ikemen Inc. as a small developer, tucked away on a floor in a nondescript office building somewhere in Toyko.

The reality of their facilities surprised me, and we drove 15 minutes through dense woodland, past another small road with a sign indicating guest and employee parking - up to a manicured property where at the center was a sleek looking high rise. My driver stopped under the porte-cochere and helped me with my suitcases, triggering the mechanism for the large glass double doors to open which caught the attention of a man inside.

“Please, allow me to be of assistance,” he said, quickly grabbing the roller’s handles and helping me in to a spacious reception area. “I’m Roman and I run the resort division of Ikemen Inc.”

“Hana.”

There was something familiar about the way that Roman talked and the way he dressed that I couldn’t quite put my finger on as he introduced me to the woman at reception and made small talk about my trip. I engaged in the idle banter until the persistent feeling that I knew him from somewhere became so overwhelming that I finally found myself asking, “Have we met before?”

“Yes,” a female voice called out behind me.

I turned to see a girl, no older than 20 approaching us with a suitcase of her own. She wore the same expression that countless fans wore upon recognizing me as they rushed up to me and asked for a selfie except she was not looking at me, but at Roman.

“He’s Roman Hinton, from Ikemen’s Paradise Palace.”

“Ah, you’ve stayed with us in Paradise I assume?” Roman asked the girl smiling.

“Oh you have no idea,” she said dreamily, and it was then that I realized my wish of dating one of the men in my phone might come true.

That’s the end of my rough first chapter. Let me know if you want to know where we go from here and I might post more. Tagging @nitelotus​ since she asked to see it 

[beckyditchfieldtv]

Part 2: Complications after birth

The next disruption to my plans ended up being very scary for both my husband and me. It's something I've hesitated to share, because I'm not sure why I would want to, or why anyone would want to know. I certainly am not sharing this to be dramatic or to gain sympathy. But what happened to me in the hours after delivery scared me enough that I will never forget it, and I wouldn't be surprised if it continues to affect me emotionally for years to come.

I do, however, feel fortunate to have found people who shared a similar experience. It was a relief to know I had friends who could empathize. So that is why I am sharing this part of my birth story, now. My hope is to offer that same empathy to someone else who may have been through a similar trauma.

Bleeding happens after you deliver. Our bodies produce so much more blood while we are pregnant in order to support the baby. Some of that blood is in the uterine lining. Your doctor tells you to expect bleeding for several weeks after delivery, but they also tell you what is too much.

I remember being exhausted after I delivered. My nurses encouraged me to rest. My son was getting excellent care in the NICU. All signs pointed to him being healthy and that the 12 hour stay he had ahead of him would end up being precautionary. As a new mom we don't get many opportunities to rest. If you need it during those first few hours or days after birth, it's okay to take advantage of the help the hospital offers.

My plan, of course, was to be super mom. I had even joked with my overnight nurse in the post delivery wing that sleeping would be nice, but the adrenaline rushing through me was not going to allow that to happen that night. I don't know why I had it, but thinking back, I am so thankful for that adrenaline rush. It was why I was awake and was able to recognize something was wrong.

It was around 1 a.m. or so when it felt like my water had broken. The problem was, I had already had the baby. So I turned on my phone flashlight and looked to see what was going on. It wasn't water and it wasn't urine that was streaming out of me... it was massive amounts of blood. Way more than what I was told was normal. I rang the call button for the nurse. She was calm when she examined me, telling me it was a little more than she would like to see. The culprit... a huge blood clot, which she was able to help remove. We hoped it was the only one. Sometimes you don't pass clots because you have to pee. So she had me get up to use the bathroom. Several more clots passed at that point, and then I laid back down to rest. They told me again, how much blood loss was normal. If this happened again I was to ring my call button.

Forty five minutes later... another huge gush of blood. This time it wasn't just my call nurse who came in, but also the charge nurse for the floor. At that time I couldn't wrap my brain around exactly what was happening to me, but I knew it wasn't good and I started to get scared. My husband was still sleeping on the couch across from me. He had taken his anti anxiety medication before he fell asleep, so he was out for the count. But I was getting emotional enough that I knew I needed his support, and I had the nurses wake him up.

Shortly after that I started shaking uncontrollably. The nurses continued to push on my uterus to work out any more clots and that was extremely painful. Medications had to be administered which caused even more pain... and then I passed out. My husband said the scene was terrifying. At this point there were 6 to 10 nurses in our tiny room working on me. He was holding my hand, listening to my pain, watching me shake, and then I suddenly went limp. All I remember is feeling sick, not being able to hear well, and then suddenly having doctors and nurses in my face telling me I had fainted, was only out for about 16 seconds, and that they were taking me to an O.R. for surgery.

Past that point I don't remember much. All I could do was tell them what I was acutely feeling and trust that they would get the bleeding to stop.

In the hours after I gave birth, I hemorrhaged. I lost between 900 and 1000 cc's of blood. It turns out there are a few reasons your body will do that post delivery. I hemorrhaged because I had so many massive clots that had formed in my uterus, that despite the nurses efforts to help push them out, my uterus couldn't pass them. The surgery was an emergency D & C. Once they cleared the clots and anything else that could have been i there, the bleeding stopped.

I made my husband call my parents before I went in to the O.R. I had no idea what was going to happen in there, but I knew that they would want to know what was going on. Selfishly, I needed them to know. My parents are some pretty fierce prayer warriors, and I needed as much help as I could get.

Just before they put me under I remember hoping to not see my dead grandmother... and telling God that I wasn't ready to go. It seems dramatic to say that, but that's where my mind was. I didn't really know what was happening, and while I trusted my team, there was some belief that my body would fail me.

Hemorrhaging after birth is not extremely common, but it does happen. Thank God we live in a time where modern medicine exists and doctors know what to do to stop the bleeding. When it didn't exist, the outcome was detrimental.

The blood loss left me borderline for needing a transfusion. My iron and blood stores are pretty depleted, leaving me with zero wiggle room when it comes to self care. Appropriate sleep and an iron rich diet are critical for me to be able to function. For the first couple of weeks I was home I didn't understand that, and my body shut down forcing me back to the hospital for nearly passing out.

If I can't take care of myself, then there are options. But for now, I'm much more vigilant. It is a slow journey. I can tell if I've pushed myself too hard. My doctors say it will take 6 to 9 months to replace what I lost, IF I take care of myself. In the meantime, I'll continue to feel better every day. And I look forward to the new normal that comes with a family of 5.

[writingjusttowrite8]

Warmth (Chapter 11)

So, this is a little late… my bad. Life has been super hectic, but I graduated college so yay! This doesn’t contain much smut (though there is a bit), cuz it’s mostly fluffy romance. Tom’s hair has me feelin’ some type of way for a while now, so be prepared for the next chapter to be all about that lol. As always, thank you so much for your continued support in reading this story. I’ve gotten some really sweet messages that truly make me happier than words can describe, so thank you all so much for that. Please let me know what you guys think!

You can also read this on AO3! 

Part 1| Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 |

-

I jumped into Tom's arms; ignoring how he ungracefully dropped the stuff he was carrying. He had clearly been working out; his chest was hard and wide and his arms were thicker than I remembered. I clutched his chest close to me and wrapped my legs around his waist.

"You're here, really here," I said, breathing in his scent. I felt his bearded chin nuzzle into the side of my face, and him placing gentle kisses on my cheek. I pulled back a bit to look at him, my eyes glassy, and run my hand through his beard.

"I had to come see you. I was going mad, especially after my drunken night of revelations. Seeing you over Skype and hearing your voice on the phone is great, but feeling you with my own hands is infinitely better," Tom said, gently letting me down to the floor.

"But, how did you have the time to-"

"I made time. I'll always make time for you," He said, placing both hands over my cheeks. My smile grew, and so did his before he leaned down to kiss me. It was hot and intense, feeling his lips move along with mine after so long without it. I wrapped my fingers in his longer hair and groaned at the feeling.

"God, love your hair like this," I groaned against his lips. I felt him smirk, but he didn't cease his movement. He was mauling my neck, pressing me against the wall outside of my suite. I hiked my leg around his him, and Tom held onto it and pulled it higher. His hips ground into mine and I felt myself get dizzy with anticipation.

"You know," I said while Tom kissed at the base of my neck, "there's a very large and private bed inside, if you want to get comfortable in there." In lieu of a verbal response, Tom hiked my entire body up, holding me, and walked me into the room before dropping me onto the bed. His lips found mine again, but something else crossed my mind. "My presents!" I shouted, which muffled against his lips.

"I'll get you more," He said, obviously consumed solely with getting me undressed. I whined in protest.

"I want those..." I said, tugging his hair. His head dropped to my shoulder and he grunted before quickly spinning around, getting the bear and chocolates from the hallway and slamming the door shut once more.

"May I properly ravish you now?" Tom asked, a slight hint of amusement and pain in his voice. I scooted up further onto the bed.

"Do your worst."

-

I awoke to soft snoring and the rhythmic rise and fall of a chest underneath me. I inhaled Tom's bare skin for what seemed like the millionth time in the last 12 hours, desperately trying to commit it to memory. I glanced at the clock to see 8:43 a.m. flashing, before looking up at Tom's peaceful sleeping face. He was getting so pale, his hair turning back to its natural ginger; that boy needs to see the sun more often. I shifted around a bit, not wanting to disturb our moment of serenity, but tried to climb up further onto Tom so I could kiss him. My hands played with his hair while I placed love bites on his neck. I felt him nuzzle into me, making his coarse beginning of a beard tickle my skin. I lifted my lips to his; eyes still closed, and licked his bottom lip for entrance. His tongue swirled with mine and I felt him grasp my hips. My core was still wet and slick from our multiple couplings last night, and I ground into him, feeling his erection come to life. One of his hands came up to kneed my breast and tweak my nipple, and his mouth never once faltered while on mine.

           I trailed one of my hands down between us to pump his cock a few times, almost getting embarrassed when I realized just how wet I was. I moaned into his mouth as I lifted my hips and guided him into me. His hand gripped me tighter as my head dropped to the side to catch my breath.

“I love having you… inside of me…” I breathed into the shell of his ear. He groaned and began bucking into me. I sat back, balancing on his chest and began moving up and down. His eyes were only slightly open, staring at me as I threw my head back in ecstasy. His hands grabbed at mine and he intertwined our fingers together. We moved slowly, relishing in the feel every stroke and soft touch. I leaned back down over him, so that I could kiss him as deeply as possible. I gasped as I came, rubbing my clit on the coarse and wiry hair at the base of his cock. He pumped himself into me a few more times before releasing into me. His cum felt hot and fulfilling, and I nearly passed out on top of Tom.

“I miss waking up like that,” he whispered into my ear. I smiled while still breathing heavily and chuckled a bit.

“Soon we’ll be able to wake up like this all the time,” I said. Tom rubbed his large, warm hands in soothing circles on my back.

“Indeed my love, we will. Soon,” He said, staring down at me. My smile faded a bit when a realization came over me.

“How long do you have here?” I asked, propping myself on my elbow to look at him.

“Today and tonight. I leave early tomorrow morning,” Tom said, sadness in his eye.

“How’s shooting going?” I asked, trying to get off the subject of him leaving.

“Well enough. The script isn’t as fully formed as I initially thought. I like it though; the producers actually listen to me, and the rest of us, when we want to make changes. I miss being a producer. I might have to try it out again soon,” A proud smile replaced the sadness that had washed over him. I let out a wide grin; I loved seeing such passion out of Tom. He was truly made to be an actor.

“I’m glad. But not too soon. We’re finally getting some time off in a couple weeks, remember?” I asked. Tom chuckled and rolled on top of me, brushing some hair out of my face.

“If this morning is any inclination as to what awaits me in our time off together, you better believe I will never forget it.”

             We showered and dressed quickly, and began eating breakfast in the small sitting area of my room. I was buttering a croissant when Tom asked me about a subject I’d nearly forgotten.

“Are you truly not mad at me for the way I announced our relationship. I know you’ve said you’re not, but I need you to be honest with me. It’s okay if you’re mad; to be honest, I’m a little mad at myself. I shouldn’t have let something as big as that slip,” he said.  I took a bit of my croissant before responding, wanting to choose my words carefully.

“I’m not mad; the only thing I’m mad about was that so many people got to see your fun, drunk side and I still haven’t. But in all seriousness, I’m not. It was bound to come out at some point, and the timing wasn’t ideal, but I doubt there would ever be an ideal time. If anything, I’m mad at myself. I feel bad for forcing you to hold it in for so long. If I had known that the sense of relief that overcame me when I found out, I would have never asked you to hide it. I want us to be a team, not just to each other, but also in the eyes of the world. Our lives are our own, and giving the power over to everybody else to dictate how our relationship should go isn’t something I want to do anymore. I want to be with you; I think I have from the moment I met you. I’m glad we don’t have to hide anymore. No matter the circumstance, I think what happened was for the best,” I said. We were sitting so close to each other I had to crane my neck up to look at him. He was contemplative, taking into consideration ever word I said.  I small, tender smile started on his lips, and I could have cried because of how happy it made me.

“You really are something different all together. I love you,” Tom said. I reached up and placed a tender kiss on his lips, with he returned with the same kind of love. It wasn’t the normal, heated kiss that ended with each other tangled in the sheets, but the kind of kiss that reassured intimacy in other forms.

“I love you too,” I said once we pulled apart, “but we’re in one of the most romantic cities in the world on valentines weekend. We should explore a bit before coming back here and fucking each other senseless.”

Tom’s eyebrows rose up at me. “Or we could just skip the exploring and go straight to the senseless fucking?” He gave me a cocky grin. I pouted and looked up at him through my lashes. He rolled his eyes and sighed, giving me a small smile of amusement. “Or we could do whatever you want to.” I smiled, grabbed his face and pulled him into a sweet kiss.

“Good choice.”

-

Paris was always beautiful, but it was even more beautiful being there with someone you love. Tom had been giving me lessons in French all day, trying to improve my very broken understanding of the language. But the way he was able to so flawlessly fit in to those around him never ceased to amaze me.

“I’ve worked here a lot. We came to France quite a bit as children and spent most of our holidays here. That’s really only why I know it so well,” Tom said, as we walked down the street.

“It is quite beautiful here; have you ever considered moving here?” I asked. Tom took a moment before responding, holding my hand a little closer and rubbing his thumb in circles on the back of it.

“Not really. Sometimes the beauty of a place can only remain if you keep it at a distance. I’m not sure I would like it the same way if I lived here,” He finally said.

“That’s very poetic,” I started, “keeping something at a distance so not to tarnish it’s beauty.” Tom shrugged

“Would you ever move here?” He asked me.

“No!” I responded much quicker than I should have. “I mean, I love London too much. Plus we’re away so often, that having another place to try to be together would just be too much,” I corrected. Tom chuckled a bit at me.

“Well, if you’re not here then I certainly would have no reason to be,” Tom said. He stopped us and pressed a sweet kiss onto my cheek. I blushed at such a public display of affection, especially after hiding it for so long. As I looked up at him when he pulled away, I realized there wasn’t any reason to hide, and let myself do what I’ve wanted to do for so long now. I threw my arms around his neck, pulling him back down for a deeper kiss. Our mouths moved in sync, and he grabbed my cheek with his large hand. I always hated couples who made such a spectacle of their relationship, but now I realized what I’d been missing out on. Kissing Tom so publically felt so freeing; as if I was finally saying ‘He’s mine! We’re together! And we can make out whenever we want because he’s mine!’

           I was the first to pull away from the kiss, but I pressed a few short ones as I pulled away. I looked up at him to see a flushed, boyish grin on his face, and my deep red lipstick smothered along his mouth.

“Sorry, I guess I got caught up,” I said biting my lip and using my thumb to get some of the lipstick off.

“I’m not sorry at all. I’m glad we finally get to do this now. And I intend to keep doing this for a very long time,” Tom said before pulling me into another mind-numbing kiss.

-

By the time Tom and I made it back to the room, we were clawing at one another. We’d barley shut the door before our lips were on each other’s again. He led me back to the bed, and I fell onto it with Tom towering over me. He grinned down at me and a devilish look overcame him. I started breathing heavier with anticipation. Tom trapped me between his arms, his face hovering over mine. I lifted my head to attach our lips, but he used one hand to gently push it down. For a few moments, Tom traced my skin with the tip of his nose, nuzzling me occasionally and making me giggle a bit whenever his beard would rub me. Finally he connected our lips, and I couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. This kind of intimacy was so agonizingly wonderful. My hands were all over him; tracing his face, in his hair, down his neck, until a buzzing sound came from my purse.

I rolled over, fumbling around in my carelessly discarded purse before pulling out my phone. I finally got it and looked at my screen in confusion.

“Who is it?” Tom asked, between pressing ticklish kisses against my neck.

“It’s Henry… that’s odd,” I said. Tom kept kissing my neck, but I felt him falter a bit. I debated whether or not to answer it for a minute, before putting my phone down. But before I could actually get it down, I felt Tom’s hand slide down my arm and grab the phone from my hand. He accepted the call on the last ring and pressed it to his hear.

“Hello?” Tom said into the phone, nonchalantly. He sat back on his knees, keeping me pinned beneath him. I swatted his chest and mouthed ‘what are you doing?’ at him. Tom smirked down at me and I could hear Henry’s deep voice on the other end.

“This is her… boyfriend,” Tom said. Part of me was angry for answering it, but another part became curious as to why he had hesitated before saying ‘boyfriend’. I looked up at him and tried to get out of his grasp and tear the phone away from him, but he was able to hold my arms down with his free hand.

“Ah, well, unfortunately [Y/N] will be otherwise occupied tonight. She won’t be joining you,” He said smugly. Henry had called me wanting to go out? This was odd.

“That’s kind of you to offer, but I believe I’ll be more than capable of keeping [Y/N] entertained by myself. Have a good evening,” Tom hung up the phone. My cheeks burned; half from anger at his actions, half in embarrassment.

“What the hell, Tom!” I screamed at him, once he let me go. I pushed him off of me and walked to the other side of the room, after grabbing my phone from his hands.

“He knows you have a boyfriend, why would he be asking you out to dinner on Valentines Day?” Tom asked, a hint of anger playing in his voice. I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Because he’s nice. He didn’t know you were in town and figured I’d be alone. Also, we’re coworkers! It isn’t exactly unheard of for coworkers to go to dinner together. We went out together plenty of times before we started dating!” I continued.

“Exactly, and look where we ended up!” He said standing up and walking in front of me.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked incredulously.

“We were friends well before we started dating,” Tom said, darkly. I looked at him in disbelief.

“You think I’m cheating on you?” I asked, my voice quiet.

“NO! But I don’t trust him! He shouldn’t be going after you, I thought it would be best to ward him off a bit,” Tom’s voice wavered a bit. I stood frozen. Anger, disbelief, and sadness coursed through my body.

“You honestly think that was the way to ‘ward him off’? Being rude to him? Speaking for me? Accusing him of intentions you have no way of proving? That’s really what you came up with?” I asked through gritted teeth. The realization of what he did finally washed over Tom. His angry expression faded, and his eyes dropped to the floor.

“He gets to be around you. You work with him every day. He gets to see you, to touch you, to feel you. I don’t. I’m thousands of miles away and some other man gets to be there for you. You have to understand how horrible it is for me to know this.” Tom said, staring at the floor.

“You don’t think I’m jealous too? That other women get to be around you and I don’t? Women constantly thrown themselves at you, Tom! I have to grin and bear it and it sucks but I do it! You’ll have to figure out a way to do it too!” I said. I relaxed my arms and rubbed my face. How can such a sweet, hot moment of love turn into… this.

“I’m sorry,” Tom whispered, “I shouldn’t have done that.” I took a deep breath.

“No you shouldn’t have. Why did you?” I asked. Tom sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m terrified of loosing you, of letting other people into our relationship. If anyone ever caught you two out, even just as friends, the media would jump on it and try to tear us apart. I’ve been through that before, and I’m not strong enough to ignore it all again. I can’t loose you, [Y/N]. I love you so much and my jealously got the best of me. I’m so sorry,” His eyes looked up to mine with a pleading look. I walked over to him, but he made no move to touch me. I placed my hands on either side of his face and looked up at him.

“We can’t let anyone tear us apart; not Henry, not the media, anyone. I won’t let them. I love you Tom, so much that it can be painful. Don’t let anyone else affect you like that. I’m with you, only you. Never doubt that,” I pleaded with him. I wasn’t angry anymore, just sad. The separation and unexpected announcement of our relationship had taken a major toll on us, and we hadn’t even realized it. His hand cupped mine, keeping it to his face, as he stared down lovingly at me.

“I won’t.”

-

The wind blew harshly against my face as we walked into the airport. The normal entrance was too crowded with paparazzi, so we were taken through a back entrance with significantly less weather coverage. I grabbed onto Tom’s arm tighter and he squeezed my hand in assurance. Despite my hatred of the cold, I was thankful that it was consuming my thoughts over what our actual purpose was here. Tom was leaving to go back to L.A. to finish filming. Though the trip was unexpected and quick, it stung a bit whenever he had to leave.

          ��We finally made it inside of a small side alcove connected to the boarding zone of the air plane, and the person who had been walking us in turned to us and told Tom it would be a few minutes before he could board. Tom nodded curtly and the man exited the area. I looked up at Tom while he placed his hands on either side of my face, smoothing out my hair.

“We’re getting better at this; I’m not even crying this time,” I joked. It was supposed to sound humorous, but my sadness drowned the fun out.

“You said it yourself; soon we won’t have to say goodbye for a while,” He reminded me.

“Yeah, but we’re having to say it right now,” I started, “Living in the present is a lot harder to do than looking to the future.”

“But that future will be much better. And it’s not that distant, only a few more weeks,” Tom said. I grimaced when he said weeks. His attempt to cheer me up was failing, and I felt bad for making it so hard.

“Thank you for coming out to see me. I’m really happy you came,” I said. He smirked mischievously.

“I believe we both came, quite a few times actually,” Tom teased. I playfully slapped his chest, embarrassed by his comment. He laughed at my reaction and tugged me in for a tight hug. I reciprocated the hug, holding onto him for dear life.

“I love you so much, never doubt that. I’m yours; entirely,” I whispered. Tom pulled back just a little, so that he could capture my lips in a deep kiss. I kissed back just as fervently. When he finally pulled away, we were both breathless.

“As am I. I love you,” Tom rested his forehead against mine. I looked into his eyes once more, and pressed a very quick last kiss. The man who led us here cleared his throat, alerting us to his presence. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, but Tom didn’t seem to mind.

“Call me when you get to L.A.,” I said, voice breaking a bit. Tom nodded, stepping back towards the plane, but still holding onto my hand. He pressed a kiss to the back of my hand while maintaining eye contact, before dropping it and turning to board. I watched him for a few moments, waved back at him when he quickly spun around to wave at me, and wiped my eyes for the few stray tears that had fallen.

Only a couple more weeks, I told myself, then Tom and I can truly start our lives together.

[beatingmurmurs]

Fathers

I’m writing this partially so I can look back on this one day and understand/reflect on how I felt during this period of my life. Some of us are born with great fathers that genuinely care about us. Ever since I was younger, however, I have not felt as if I had this.

When my parents were divorced, I remember sobbing every single time I had to go with my dad because I absolutely disliked his wife. If I was going to visit him alone, it was fine. But I was always forced to go, even if I was sitting on the ground sobbing, begging them to not make me go with him. I remember when they tried to force me to take naps at my dad’s house, despite the fact that I was notorious for being unable to take a nap. They’d lock me in a room, and I’d look out of a window, daydreaming and hoping a fireman would come save me. It wasn’t all bad. I’d wake up at 5 A.M. to watch T.V. like I did at home with my mom. I’d get a blueberry dessert. But things were far different than they were at home. I had to excuse myself from the table, and if I didn’t, my dad’s wife would remind me every single time. I remember her telling me (around when we first met) that she’d be like my second mom. I didn’t want a second mom. I wanted my mom.

I remember one Christmas, I didn’t want to go over to their house. I was around 5 at the time, and I had been sobbing. When I was forced to go the week afterwards, my dad’s wife had told me that they went tree shopping without me since I didn’t want to come. I don’t know if this was cruel or if it just hurt my feelings, since I was 5 and it was something I thought I was supposed to do with my dad. What else could I have expected, except for them to go Christmas tree shopping without me? 

When I went out with my dad for one hour on Tuesdays and Thursdays, he’d buy me a big cookie. I liked Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Then my parents got together. This was probably the worst thing that could’ve happened for my perspective on my dad. Before he lived with us, I saw him as my father. Over the years though, this started to decline.

I still remember the first time they got into a fight. He threw his phone. I was sitting on the stairs sobbing. They were screaming and yelling throughout the house. My dad called my mom a bitch and looked as if he was walking around to try to calm himself down so he wouldn’t hurt her. This was the first time I began to fear my father.

I remember him driving, and every time we would make him angry in the car, he would start speeding. He would hit the gas, in what I believe was an attempt to get us scared enough so we would stop talking. I always got scared that he’d purposefully get into an accident and my mom would get hurt. My mom was the only person in this household that I had. 

I couldn’t ask for my dad for anything. Throughout my childhood, if I asked him for anything, he would get mad/angry. I remember him yelling. I remember when my mom asked for anything at all, he would yell “Oh, come on!” This happened again just yesterday,

Things were bad when my parents were together romantically, and have gotten somewhat better since they took on a status that was more like roommates, but my father constantly complains about money despite never using any of it. He buys groceries, and he barely buys anything that we actually need. My mother will spend $300 on groceries, and he’ll spend $80. If we ask for anything, because he’s buying groceries and such, he’ll start getting loud and yelling about how he doesn’t have money - meanwhile he’s buying lunch for himself every day at his job.

One of the worst memories I have of my father recently was when I went to my aunt’s house with my parents. He wanted to leave after a few days, and started complaining about how we didn’t do anything. He ended up throwing a tantrum and screaming in the middle of my aunt’s house, packed his things and put it in the car. He was so loud. I was sitting on the floor. It was absolutely terrible. I’ve never seen him act so selfishly in my life. I didn’t even know he was capable of that. But every time I think he’s gotten to his worst, he always gets worse. My mother gave into him, as she usually does.

Honestly, I don’t even see him as my father now. He never does anything for me. He constantly irritates me by saying things that I find offensive, taking my things, and not being able to accept that he makes mistakes. Every time he does something wrong, he blames it on me, and he shit-talks me to my aunt and my mother. I wish I was joking, but the day of my graduation, he was shit-talking me to my aunt while I was waiting to get my diploma. I didn’t realize it, but little by little I’ve been becoming more selfish with him too. Today he called me miserable for being selfish and taking away the chicken my mom bought last night. It’s true that I wasn’t justified in taking it away from him, but when he said “miserable,” I got set off.

The miserable person isn’t me. It’s the person who has made my life miserable for the past 18 years of my life. You have hurt me in every single way, shape, or form. I have cried over not having a father a multitude of times, despite you being right there. You wonder why I don’t share anything with you? You wonder why I don’t talk to you? You wonder why I don’t give you any benefit of the doubt? It’s because you don’t deserve it.

There have been a multitude of times I wished he didn’t live with us. I’d be happier. I’d be less stressed. I debated moving away from home at one point just to get away from him. I don’t want to be around him. I don’t want any eventual kids I have to be around him. I don’t want my mom to be around him. I’m still worried every single day that one day he’s going to get set off and hit one of us because of how angry he gets. 

The worst part is that I’m still supposed to be “grateful” for the little he does do for me in monetary value. The money doesn’t matter so much, though - it’s his actions that have brought it to this point.

What am I going to do? How do I get away from this? When does this stress stop? I can’t deal with this. I want to get away from him but I can’t. I don’t want to leave my mother alone with him here, either.

To be clear, I don’t hate my father. I don’t wish him any harm. But I really don’t want him around me. I can’t take care of him when he’s older. I can’t. Not if I want my mental health to stay intact. I want to focus on the future - on getting a good job, getting married, and having kids. In every future that I imagine, he’s never in them. I’m so tired.

I’m also aware that the descriptions of everything here are likely not tangible enough to make people understand the depth of how much I’ve suffered with him here. That’s okay. This post is more for me than anything. There’s far more things that have occurred than I have listed here, but I already feel so emotionally exhausted writing this that I genuinely don’t want to type anymore. I’m tired of crying over this.

[kates-sweet-escape]

One morning [F]

The One Series

Pairing: Shin Hoseok (Wonho) x Reader

Genre: Fluff, a slight hint of angst

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: One morning you’re woken up by your boyfriend Hoseok, who just came home from practice.

Song recommendation: ZAYN - Pillowtalk

Part of: The One Series -  One morning | One last time

Note: First posted on the MONBEBE Amino as part of the #MXPPChallenge

Cover: Made by me. Picture found on OfficialMonstaX

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

"Baby - are you awake?"

As you heard Hoseoks voice you opened your eyes, almost unable to wake from your deep sleep. Gosh - what time was it? You slightly turned your head to the right to take a look at the alarm clock but you were so drowsy that you were barely able to read the red digits. You let out a deep and frustrated growl once your brain made sense of the information you had gathered from looking at the alarm clock.

Was he for real?!

It was 5 a.m in the morning. Your first lecture wouldn't start before 10 a.m. Which meant that your boyfriend selfishly decided to cut your sleep 3 hours short. It was his luck that you were crazy in love with him. Otherwise, you might have killed him on the spot.

What was he even thinking? He knew better than to bother you once you were sleeping. You really hoped, for his sake, that he had a damn good reason for doing this.

You lazily turned around, facing Hoseok who was sitting on the edge of the bed the two of you shared since you moved in together four years ago. The lamp on the nightstand was switched on, slightly illuminating the room with a warm and tender light.

Once you saw his face all your anger and all your sleepiness were suddenly gone. Instead, you were worried sick.

You immediately sat up on the bed, to get a better look at him. But once you did you cursed under your breath at how alarmingly pale and stressed out he looked. His skin was missing its usual glow and the soft and tender smile on his face was gone. The skin under his eyes had a deep purple color and the spark in his dark brown eyes had become dull. He looked exhausted beyond compare. You'd never seen him like this. Not since you'd started dating him six years ago.

"What happened?" You stretched out your arms, inviting Hoseok into your warm embrace and he didn't even hesitate for one second. There was no play pretend between the two of you. You both stopped that useless crap ages ago.

"Come on talk to me." But Hoseok stayed dead silent. Instead, he just climbed into the bed and under the covers with you before he wrapped his arms around your waist and hid his face in the crook of your neck. Once he held you tight you could hear him take a deep breath. It sounded so desperate that one might think it was the first deep breath he had been able to take all day. You felt yourself getting more and more anxious as the silence continued on, but you knew better than to force Hoseok to start talking. He'd tell you once he was ready.

So instead of pushing him you began stroking his hair tenderly and realized that it was still damp which could only mean one thing: He'd just come home from practice.

The dance practice that had only meant to last until midnight.

Those damn comebacks. Whoever thought that comebacks where all fun and games had no idea. For weeks Hoseok had been going back and forth between dance practice, the studio and the gym. All in order to prepare for their next comeback that was still two months away. Four weeks from now he would practically starve himself to lose a few more grams while the stylist would start talking about him like he was a mannequin and not a living, breathing human being.

And when it was finally comeback time he wouldn't get to sleep for more than one or two hours a day due to the insanely packed schedule. He and the boys would survive on Coffee and occasional meals gulped down in between changing locations. And once that was done he would be leaving for another world tour so you wouldn't get to see each other for months.

Every comeback was taking a toll on Hoseok... and on your relationship. Because being an idol girlfriend was far from easy. It wasn't romantic late-night studio visits and stolen kisses behind the stage.

It was far from it.

Being an idol girlfriend was, more often than not, very very lonely.

Sure, you had Changkyuns girlfriend you could talk to but that didn't take the loneliness away. It just made it more bearable knowing that someone was going through the same thing you did. But late at night, when his side of the bed remained empty again, you would still feel that all-consuming loneliness that made you miss him even more. Almost to the point of thinking that you might go insane.

"What would you say if I'd just quit?" Your boyfriends' words snapped you back to reality and you stopped stroking his hair immediately.

Had he really just said that? "Wait - What?!"

Hoseok held on to you even tighter. His fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises. "I don't think I can do this anymore." He took a shaky breath against your neck. "This life - it feels like it's eating away at me. The constant expectations, the busy schedules, the rules and limitations and all the things I have to give up on for it. Is it really worth it?"

You couldn't believe what he was saying but you couldn't stop him. It seemed like something inside him just snapped, making way for all the words he'd held back over the past few weeks.

"I don't get to say what I want, do what I want or even eat what I want." Hoseok finally raised his head from your neck, looking at you intensely. "I don't even get to openly love who I want. So what am I doing this for? Money?  Fame? That kind of things mean shit." You could feel him tense up in your arms. His jaw visibly tightening from how hard he was gritting his teeth. "Maybe I should just quit."

You layed your hand on his cheek, lightly running your thumb over his cheekbone as he stopped rambling for a second. "Hoseok - you love what you do."

He let out a dry laugh. "Do I?" He shook his head. "If it wasn't for the music and Monbebe I wouldn't put up with any of it."

"Stop making it harder on yourself by lying like this." As he shot you a dirty look you just smiled at him warmly. "You love what you do. You live and breathe for it. The dancing. The music. The fans." You softly laughed. "The attention. You love it. So stop saying such nonsense. Get some sleep. Rest a bit. In a few hours, you'll regret having said that."

Hoseok suddenly went utterly silent again. Instead, he was looking at you as if he was searching for an answer to a complicated question that was hidden in your features.

After a few moments of deafening silence, Hoseok started speaking again. "Why aren't you telling me to quit?" The tone of his voice suddenly sounded confused and irritated. "I know me being an Idol is hard on you too. So why aren't you telling me to quit? Why aren't you jumping at this, telling me to just live a normal life with you somewhere in the middle of nowhere?"

You shrugged. "Because I love you."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"It does when you think about it like I do." You stopped stroking his cheek. Instead, you grabbed his hand that had been placed on your waist and held on tight as you tried to explain to him how you truly felt about all this. "I'm not gonna lie to you by telling you that I'm not suffering because of this. Because I do. Just like you. But I know how much you love it. I hear it every time you sing. I see it every time I turn on the television to watch one of your interviews or award shows. I feel it when you're practicing late at night in our living room until you're completely exhausted or when you're on stage, giving it your all even though you're sick." You looked at him, trying to make him understand. "Loving you means loving all of you. The good and the bad. So why would I want to take something away from you that brings you so much happiness? Just to make it easier on myself? That's not love. That's selfishness." You shrugged as he looked at you in amazement. "And I love you. No matter what."

Hoseok seemed absolutely dumbfounded for a moment. Then he shook his head as if he tried to snap himself back to reality before he started taking again. "So you would still love me if I wasn't an idol?"

You were slightly taken aback by his question. Had he even listened to anything you'd just said? "I would."

He smiled at you. "And what would you do if someday I'd really want to quit?"

You took a moment to think about this. You never bothered to even imagine something like this since you knew that day would never come. He just loved it too much. "If you really wanted to quit?"

Hoseok nodded. "Yeah."

"I'd support you." You didn't even hesitate for a second. "If you really wouldn't want to do it anymore, I'd support you. I mean it's just the right thing to do if-"

"Marry me."

You shut your mouth immediately staring at Hoseok in confusion. Did he just...? No, he did not, right? He wouldn't just-

"Marry me." Hoseok leaned in and kissed you. A sweet and soft kiss that made your heart ache. "Marry me." He kissed you again. "Marry me."

You broke free from his spell while you felt your cheeks flushing with heat. "Hoseok what are you saying? That-"

He kissed you again. "Marry me." He whispered the words against your lips. "Marry me, Y/N."

You felt your heart race in your chest while you seemed to be completely surrounded by him. His strong arms were holding you while his sweet words filled your ears. You could taste him on your lips and feel his warmth under your fingertips.

You'd imagined this moment over and over and over again. How he'd ask you to marry him. In you're head, you'd always worn an expensive dress while being seated across from him in a fancy restaurant. You'd always imagined him pulling out a beautiful ring while publicly declaring his love for you.

But this proposal was far from anything you'd ever imagined. There was no expensive dress. Instead, your hair was a mess from sleeping while you were wearing one of his worn out T-Shirts. There was also no fancy restaurant, no ring, and no crowd.

Yet, it was a thousand times better than anything you could have imagined. It was more intimate. Just you and him holding on to each other while giving each other warmth and comfort in the security of the place you both called your home.

Hoseok leaned his forehead against yours. His lips ever so slightly brushing over yours as he pulled you in closer. "Marry me."

"Yes."

[maedhros-nelyafinwe]

I don’t often talk about my sleeping difficulties. Usually I don’t need to.

I had insomnia when I was younger. It was partly a bed that was too hard (it was easier to fall asleep when I got a foam pad put on it). The other part is, now that I know it, ADHD.

Without realizing what I was doing, I taught myself to meditate to slow my brain to fall asleep. Of course, while I was in school, I was also much less concerned about falling asleep on time. I could stay up late and sleep after school when I got back home.

My most natural sleep/awake schedule is go to be around 2 or 3am and wake up around 10am. When left to my own devices (basically summer vacation and my last year of university), I naturally fall into in this schedule. When night arrives, I feel a renewed burst of energy and wakefulness (which apparently is common with ADHD).

Since getting my job here in Japan, after spending my whole life in school and pushing to keep the sleep schedule that’s most natural and comfortable to me, I’ve been forced to change it. Go to bed at 830pm, fall asleep at 930pm, wake up at 530am.

It is VERY difficult to adhere to this schedule. When I start to feel tired around 7pm, I have to be very, very careful not to actually do anything I really like. No video games, no interesting shows or movies, don’t go out. I have to stay tired or I’m fucked later. And that takes a lot of being careful. So, generally, I manage this, so when 830 comes, I brush my teeth (doing simply that actually wakes me up again).

Then I go to bed and read for an hour to get sleepy again and fall asleep finally (on good nights. Good nights usually happen, though sometimes it’s just a lost cause. I have to meditate, and sometimes that doesn’t even work). I wake up a lot periodically through the night, triggered by any tiny noise. Again, I have to be careful. If I allow myself to wake up, I can’t go back to sleep. So I manage to roll over and fall back asleep. This happens between 3-5 times a night.

Mornings are always just the bane of my existence. I used to struggle very, very hard with waking up to my alarm, then I learned that I have to literally throw myself out of bed otherwise I won’t get up. It’s why I’m so grumpy in the mornings.

Anyways, I’m writing this long thing because I’m fucking pissed off. Husband woke me up tonight by using my hair to tickle my ear and giggling like a schoolgirl. I woke and punched his shoulder because I was pissed he woke me up for something as bullshit as that.

Obviously, I am now awake. I cannot go back to sleep. I’m fucked out of 4 hours of sleep. I only got 4 hours of sleep. I have to deal with fucking students I hate every day, I at least want to be rested for that. Now I’m just gonna be pissed off all fucking day and trying not to fall asleep.

Husband came down stairs a little after me and asked why I was on my computer at 130 fucking a.m. and I told him what happened. He said he was sleep walking (which is a known sleep walker/talker) and I told him that it doesn’t matter, I’m still fucking screwed out of sleep and I’m pissed.

He gets offended for half of my ADHD symptoms (half the reason I went to a psych for diagnosis, to help him understand by finding out what was wrong with me), so I can get pissed off when he does something he can’t help.

[drlaurynlax]

The #1 Cause of HPA Axis Dysfunction (Adrenal Fatigue)

The HPA Axis Dysfunction or Adrenal Fatigue

HPA Axis Dysfunction or adrenal fatigue is real…don’t believe me? Read on for yourself to find out how it can happen to anyone, and the #1 cause behind it all. 

I’ve been quiet in social media world the past several months and, to be honest, it’s been a rough stretch to say the least. In short: “Adrenal fatigue” or HPA Axis Dysfunction is real, and if you’ve ever experienced an extreme bout of stress, you’ll know what I mean. Here’s a little personal story, and the science and research to prove it. 

Stress = The #1 Cause of HPA Axis Dysfunction

In fact, stress alone is the #1 driver of HPA Axis Dysfunction—the primary attributed cause of practically every known ailment plaguing our society today—from diabetes, to cancer, autoimmune disease, anxiety and beyond.

Contrary to popular belief, stress goes far beyond just mental stress alone.

Physical stress is often times even more detrimental, as it more easily goes unseen, including: imbalances in the basic human needs (such as lack of sleep, dehydration, poor nutrient density, sedentary or overtraining lifestyles), to gut dysfunction (SIBO, leaky gut, IBS), circadian rhythm dysfunction, inflammation, and light exposure (blue screens, light at night, etc.).

In fact, you can be sitting on a beach in Tahiti with a margarita in hand, seemingly no care in the world, but your body STILL be under a significant amount of stress, such as: fighting leaky gut and acne, experiencing shortness of breath from overwork in your daily lifestyle and lack of sleep, and hormone imbalances from overtraining in the gym and under-eating fat and protein.

Regardless of what type of stress you face (physical or mental), our bodies can only take so much stress. While stress is inevitable (impossible to avoid in modern day), if you go over your individualized threshold of stress or experience a significant amount of stress in a short amount of time, your body may back fire.

Enter: “Adrenal Fatigue” or “HPA Axis Dysfunction.”

My HPA Axis Dysfunction Story

It all began in March of 2018.

Actually, rephrase that: It all began about 3 years ago, in 2015—the beginnings of my business and life as an entrepreneur.

Eager to “save the world” with my business aspirations in the health and wellness field, I went to work on the front lines, doing things like:

My Job (“Saving the World”)

Therapy:

Providing counseling and therapy services to individuals with emotional baggage to get rid of;

Nutrition:

Offering support plans and nutritional guidance for individuals seeking health improvements;

Functional Medicine:

Knocking conventional medicine on its head with functional medicine—providing tools, resources, protocols and procedures for helping people truly heal, not just manage their disease:

—You know, just “saving the world” (or trying to).

Along with these pursuits, a sneak peek into my life as an entrepreneur looked something like this for a couple years:

HPA Axis Dysfunction Begins: (Stressful) Life of an Entrepreneur (Beginning Fall of 2015)

6 a.m. Rise & Shine. Wakeup to my alarm across the room (despite wanting to go back to sleep after 5 hours of sleep)

Brushing my teeth, swigging a protein shake, and rushing to get ready for the day to make it to the gym by 6:30 a.m. or 7

7-8:30 a.m. Workout. Hitting a workout in the gym first thing to get energized for the day

8:30 a.m. Breakfast: Another protein shake, greens, coconut butter and 1/2 a banana on my way to my office

9 a.m.-2 p.m. Work It Start the work day, seeing new clients and writing or creating my next online project or book.

2 p.m.-3:30 p.m. Workout #2. Hit the gym again for a break in the middle of the work day to burn off energy and clear my head.

3:30 p.m. Lunch. Chicken, avocado, greens, beets.

4 pm-7:30 p.m. Work It. Back to the grind.

7:30 or 8 p.m. Group Meeting. Mixing, mingling and talking more about business.

9:30 p.m. Workout. Force myself to hit the gym again after a long afternoon of sitting to work out pent up energy for 40-60 minutes.

10:30 p.m. Dinner. Dinner at home: Turkey burger patty, sweet potato, coconut butter, greens sautéed in ghee.

11 p.m.-1 a.m. Work. Finish my work for the day (e-mails, admin, etc.).

1 or 1:30 a.m. Bed. Hit the sack and sleep like a rock for about 5 hours.

Wakeup and do it all over again! 

But Stress is “Normal” Right?…

Can you relate?

Or do you know anyone who is an entrepreneur, or in school, or loves what they do, or who is super stressed over their work or life—and keeps a similar schedule? (Burning a candle at ALL ends).

Face it: Stress and “running on a hamster wheel” is normal, and if you are NOT doing it, then you better watch out because (gasp) you may fall behind.

Although I thought I was made of “steel”—immune of stress wreaking havoc on my health—my body had other plans in mind.

Before I realized it, various (silent) health issues began to arise including:

Health Issues Arise (2016-2017)

IBS

SIBO (small intestinal bacterial overgrowth)

Unwanted weight loss (losing about 10 pounds over the course of about 3 years due to malabsorption and gut issues)

Bloating after eating

Chronic constipation

Shortness of breath if I slept less than 5 hours multiple days in a row

Gym performance decline (loss of strength, endurance, gains in the gym)

Hormone imbalances (losing my period)

However, despite all these “new” symptoms, I was completely checked out from my body—laser focused on checking off to-do lists, getting further ahead in business and growing a company.

In addition to not feeling on “top of my A-game,” other things in my life began to shift too, such as:

Lifestyle Imbalance (2016-2017)

Isolation from friendships (in place of work)

Working on weekends and evenings instead of spending time with people or taking breaks

Lack of interests and activities outside of work

Disconnection from my “source”—time spent in Word, prayer

Disconnection from the great outdoors (staying inside most of the days)

Over-screen exposure (upwards of 10-12 hours per day in front of a computer)

Loss of “who I am” or what I like to do (outside work)

Running towards a goal with no end in sight

To say the least, I became more like a robot, and less like “Lauryn”—the well rounded individual I am in my core.

I could talk and write all day about living a health lifestyle, and I knew WHAT to do, but when it came to my own health and life, there wasn’t time to do all the things I preached about!

As a busy entrepreneur, trying to save the world, who had time to do things like sleep 7-8 hours, or mix up my workouts, or eat a variety of nutrient dense foods, or make time for hobbies and passions and relationships?!

This schedule and pace continued for a good 3 years before my body really began to speak—letting me know that something was up.

Getting Out of Balance: SIBO, Leaky Gut, IBS & Beyond (September 2017)

Come September 2017, I was hit with a severe case of SIBO—Small Intestinal Bacterial Overgrowth—in which my body, under high amounts of physical and mental stress, developed a gut condition where unhealthy bacteria overpopulated my small intestine.

The result?

Rapid weight loss and IBS.

Although I have struggled with “gut stuff” (constipation and IBS) most of my life, things really kicked up.

Seemingly overnight, I went from just feeling bloated after most meals to having to run to the bathroom after most meals with loose watery stools, or the opposite, waking up super constipated—unable to go at all.

This conundrum continued for a good 4 months before I decided to dig deeper and consider what else may be going on under the hood.

Thanks to my functional medicine background and training program at the time, we were actually learning about SIBO at the same time, and come to find out, SIBO is exactly what I had—triggering unwanted weight loss, malabsorption, bloating, constipation, tummy cramps, and the inability to tolerate most FODMAP foods.

At the turn of the New Year (January 2018), I was treating SIBO at home with a strict supplement protocol, courtesy of my functional medicine training, and by the end of February, I was feeling much better on the gut front—except about 10 pounds lighter than I’d want to be.

“What’s wrong with Lauryn?” I could sense others saying with their eyes, and it appeared I was “back” into my eating disorder that I had struggled with from ages 10-24.

I could hardly look in the mirror myself, and sitting at barely 100 pounds (on a “good day”), for my 5’4’’ frame, I felt it—felt weaker, and more discouraged, despite being more at peace with eating, feeding my body well and even giving up cardio in place of more muscle building workouts.

However, despite my efforts to gain weight—it wasn’t happening. Eating approximately 2400 calories each day wasn’t doing it. “Carbing up” wasn’t doing it. Working out a little bit less wasn’t doing it.

By March 2018, I found myself in a Gastrointestinal Doctor’s office to try to “get to the bottom” of things to see what—if anything—in my gut was still keeping me from putting on some weight that I wanted, and the conventional medicine “rabbit hole” began.”

The Plot Thickens: The Triggering Event (My Colonoscopy) (March 2018)

To start, the doctor ordered a CT scan of my intestines to start, finding a presentation of a “Megacolon” and “Autoimmune bowel,” and advising we do a colonoscopy to do some deeper digging to see what, if any, autoimmune diseases were present as well as any blockage or structural issues preventing me from absorbing nutrients and restoring bowel function.

In addition, I had a full blood panel done and hormone panel, and the results revealed:

Iron Overload

Low Thyroid Function

Low Vitamin D

SUPER High Cortisol

Low Sex Hormones (practically NO testosterone, estrogen, progesterone)

By the end of March, “C-Day” (“colonoscopy day”) arrived (and so did countless health side effects from this invasive procedure).

Colonscopies: More Harm Than Good

Colonoscopies have become one of the most prescribed outpatient procedures in America with more than 15-million performed each year (1) (CDC, 2016), and are only growing in prevalence.

While only about 50% of adults, ages 50-75, who “should have” colonoscopies comply with recommended guidelines, in 2018, the National Colorectal Cancer Roundtable (a group of public and private organizations) aims to raise the percentage of people screened for colorectal cancer to 80%.

And although colonoscopies are thought to be “necessary” for detecting “gut issues”—particularly colon cancer—they actually may be more detrimental than good.

In fact, according to Dr. Mercola and Dr. Michael Greger, about 1 in every 350 colonoscopies end up doing serious harm. 

I am a case study example.

Colonoscopy: Little Known Side Effects

Common (little known) side effects from this invasive bacteria with a scope include:

Perforation (puncturing) of the intestines (Gatto et al, 2003) (2)

Dysbiosis (imbalanced gut bacteria) (Lorenzo et al, 2016) (3)

Infection with another person’s gut bacteria

Eradication of healthy gut bacteria from prep (Lorenzo et al, 2016) (3)

Electrolyte, bacteria and blood sugar imbalances (from the “prep diet” and extreme cleansing that is mandated) (Shobar et al, 2016) (4) (Mai et al, 2006) (5)

The result?

A gut microbiome that is “worse” off then prior to the colonoscopy.

Given that our gut bacteria and our gut itself is the “gateway” to health, if our gut bacteria gets off (or even MORE off), then you can bet your bottom dollar, other body systems get “off” by “imbalanced.”

Healthy gut bacteria or unhealthy gut bacteria determine whether the following body mechanisms are healthy or unhealthy, including:

Gut Bacteria Govern Our Health

Immune function (disease, skin) (Oregon State University, 2013) (6) (Nanjundappa et al, 2017) (7)

Digestion (Lawrence, 2017) (8) (Kim et al, 2012) (9)

Heart/cardiac function (Tang et al, 2017) (10)

Weight and metabolism (Filip et al, 2018) (11)

Blood sugar regulation (Kumamoto University, 2018) (12)

Brain health (anxiety (Hoban et al, 2017) (13), depression (Clapp, 2017) (14) and memory (Lund University, 2017) (15)

Adrenal health (i.e. “HPA-Axis” affecting hormones, cortisol and thyroid) (Konturek et al, 2011) (16) (Cryan et al, 2011) (17)

Exercise progress (or plateaus) (Clarke et al, 2014) (18)

Headaches (Gonzalez et al, 2016) (19)

Attention/ADHD/ADD (Carmen et al, 2017) (20)

Cancer (Fellows et al, 2018) (21)

A better option than colonoscopies?

Stool testing—Addressing gut bacteria and gut health itself—prior to looking for structural issues with a scope. (Bullman et al, 2017) (21)

Since gut bacteria, gut infections, parasites and bacterial imbalances determine whether you get cancer, IBS or autoimmune disease in the first place, comprehensive stool analysis, like this one by Doctors Data or this one by GI Map, can be tremendously helpful in assessing “underlying issues.” Additionally, organic acids testing, SIBO breath testing and even a new blood test (Tsai et al, 2018) can give you more information as well.

(This is something a GI doc won’t typically tell you).

Me: Post Colonoscopy (April-May 2018)

My colonoscopy was the “straw” that broke the camel’s back —accumulating the past 3 years of stress in one fatal swoop on “C-Day” (colonoscopy day).

The “prep diet” was too much for my already-weakened body to handle (i.e. clear liquid fasting). Couple NOT eating all day with a full bottle of Miralax laxative powder, laxative tablets and all afternoon on the toilet, and by midnight that night, I was “far gone.”

Walking up the stairs to go to bed, I blacked out—passing out on the floor, and eliminating more bowels.

It took me about a minute to come to, as I don’t remember what happened, and strewn on the floor, my body started convulsing and trembling, my teeth chattering, and all I remember is asking my mom for a banana—some potassium.

Ten minutes later, the ambulance was there, and I was hooked up to IV fluids, EKG monitor and  a blood pressure cuff on my way to Dell Seton Medical.

“Electrolyte imbalance,” the ER doc diagnosed, and by 4 a.m., my mom and I were back out the door to prepare for my 5 a.m. colonoscopy arrival time.

I went through with the procedure, but little did I realize the “health issues” were not over, as my body spent the next 5-6 weeks trying to recover from the stressful event, inclusive to:

2 more ER visits (for “electrolyte imbalances” and hypoglycemia)

3 urgent care visits for more fluids and blood work

A GI Doctor office that would not return my phone calls post-procedure

A severe acute allergic reaction to a cat that moved in with a new roommate

Blood sugar highs and crashes

And more than a handful of diagnoses, speculations and prescriptions from docs trying to figure out what was going on, including: Asthma, Type I Diabetes, obstructed respiratory system, low sodium, iron overload, and…adrenal insufficiency (aka: “adrenal fatigue” or “HPA Axis Dysfunction”). 

Adrenal Insufficiency (aka: HPA Axis Dysfunction)

Adrenal insufficiency (aka adrenal fatigue—or “HPA Axis Dysfunction”)  IS real, and although our bodies are resilient to handle stress, if TOO MUCH stress happens at once, or a SUPER STRESSFUL event sets you over the edge, then HPA Axis Dysfunction is a byproduct.

The result?

Complete body imbalance. 

The news was really no new news to me. It was more like an “A ha!” moment.

A ha! This is EXACTLY what I had been experiencing all along, I thought.

I could talk about adrenal insufficiency or HPA Axis Dysfunction ALL DAY LONG. I could write about it and educate others about it.

However, when it came to looking at myself in the mirror and facing the facts that I had NOT been taking myself…easier said than done. (It is like the nail salon technician that paints everyone else’s nails—but their own).

Flat on my back, in a hospital bed in the ER after an emergency trip due to a 3 a.m. hypoglycemic blood crash after a friend’s wedding in Dallas was the wakeup call I needed.

For the past two years, (ever since my symptoms of SIBO, gut dysfunction and other health maladies had begun), my prayers had been:

“Lord, be Lord over my body,” 

“Lord, bring the manna and balance to my life,” and,

“God, help restore my body to health and help me put on healthy weight.”

Be careful what you pray for.

Never in a million years did I think that my “answer” to my prayer would be in the form of a blood sugar crash, but it was the wake up call I needed.

It was as if God was saying: “Lauryn, you DON’T have to save the world…I have already done enough.” And, “Instead of trying to bring glory to yourself, bring glory to me. Live out the gifts I’ve created and let me provide the rest.”

Mic drop.

I spent the rest of the weekend, praying, thinking and broken. I didn’t want to go back to my hamster wheel ways.

And you know what…I didn’t have to. I don’t have to. And whatever plates you are spinning or race you are running too…You don’t have to either.

How HPA Axis Dysfunction Happens

So…how did my body get SO out of whack in the first place?! How does HPA Axis Dysfunction REALLY happen?

In functional medicine, there is typically a “triggering event” that sets the body “over the edge” for HPA Axis Dysfunction and distress.

In my case: the colonoscopy (on top of the past 3 years of stress) resulted in disrupted gut bacteria, along with my side effects:

My Side Effects of HPA Axis Dysfunction

“Diabetes,” hypothyroidism

Unwanted weight loss and inability to gain weight

Suppressed immune function

Autoimmune disease

Feeling “wired and tired”

Shortness of breath

Hormone imbalances

Apathy about my work

IBS

Poor workout performance

Electrolyte imbalances

Melancholy mood

  …And, to say the least, an entrepreneur who was anything BUT her healthiest, most vibrant, kick-ass self.   

Other Side Effects of HPA Axis Dysfunction

For others, “adrenal fatigue” or HPA-Axis Dysfunction may present as one or several of the following:

Inability to lose weight

Mood swings

Fatigue

Anxiety or Depression

Autoimmune conditions

Food intolerances

Insomnia

Needing coffee or sugar to function

Headaches

High blood pressure

Low or high heart rate

Feeling dizzy when standing up

Inability to concentrate/focus or memory loss

Lyme disease

Catching colds, flus or illnesses easily

Not “feeling like yourself”

Skin breakouts or acne

Feeling burned out or unable to do your usual basic “to dos”

Inability to tolerate exercise like you once did

Random allergies you’ve never had before

  How does adrenal fatigue happen to one person but not another? What separates “adrenal fatigue,” or HPA Axis Dysfunction from regular stress?

Check out this blog to find out ALL about adrenal fatigue and HPA Axis Dysfunction, how to find out if you have it and how you (and I) can heal.

Resources

1. CDC. 2016. Colorectal Cancer Screening Capacity in the United States

2. Nicolle M. Gatto, Harold Frucht, Vijaya Sundararajan, Judith S. Jacobson, Victor R. Grann, Alfred I. Neugut; Risk of Perforation After Colonoscopy and Sigmoidoscopy: A Population-Based Study, JNCI: Journal of the National Cancer Institute, Volume 95, Issue 3, 5 February 2003, Pages 230–236,

3. Lorenzo et al. 2016. Persisting changes of intestinal microbiota after bowel lavage and colonoscopy

4. Shobar et al. 2016. The Effects of Bowel Preparation on Microbiota-Related Metrics Differ in Health and in Inflammatory Bowel Disease and for the Mucosal and Luminal Microbiota Compartments.

5. Mai, V., Greenwald, B., Glenn Morris, J., Raufman, J., & Stine, O. C. (2006). Effect of bowel preparation and colonoscopy on post‐procedure intestinal microbiota composition. Gut, 55(12), 1822–1823.

6. Immune: Oregon State University. (2013, September 16). Gut microbes closely linked to proper immune function, other health issues. ScienceDaily. Retrieved May 28, 2018

7. Immune: Nanjundappa et al, 2017. A Gut Microbial Mimic that Hijacks Diabetogenic Autoreactivity to Suppress Colitis.

8. Digestion: Lawrence, K., & Hyde, J. (2017). Microbiome restoration diet improves digestion, cognition and physical and emotional wellbeing. PLoS ONE, 12(6), e0179017.

9. Digestion: Gene Kim, Fnu Deepinder, Walter Morales, Laura Hwang, Stacy Weitsman, Christopher Chang, Robert Gunsalus, Mark Pimentel. Methanobrevibacter smithii Is the Predominant Methanogen in Patients with Constipation-Predominant IBS and Methane on Breath. Digestive Diseases and Sciences, 2012; DOI: 10.1007/s10620-012-2197-1

10. Heart: Tang et al, 2017. Gut Microbiota in Cardiovascular Health and Disease

11. Weight: Filip Ottosson, Louise Brunkwall, Ulrika Ericson, Peter M Nilsson, Peter Almgren, Céline Fernandez, Olle Melander, Marju Orho-Melander. Connection between BMI related plasma metabolite profile and gut microbiota. The Journal of Clinical Endocrinology & Metabolism, 01 February 2018 DOI: 10.1210/jc.2017-02114/4834036

12. Blood Sugar: Kumamoto University. (2018, April 10). How intestinal bacteria can affect your blood sugar and lipid levels. ScienceDaily. Retrieved May 28, 2018 from www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2018/04/180410100937.htm

13. Anxiety: Alan E. Hoban, Roman M. Stilling, Gerard M. Moloney, Rachel D. Moloney, Fergus Shanahan, Timothy G. Dinan, John F. Cryan, Gerard Clarke. Microbial regulation of microRNA expression in the amygdala and prefrontal cortex. Microbiome, 2017; 5 (1) DOI: 10.1186/s40168-017-0321-3

14. Depression: Clapp, M., Aurora, N., Herrera, L., Bhatia, M., Wilen, E., & Wakefield, S. (2017). Gut microbiota’s effect on mental health: The gut-brain axis. Clinics and Practice, 7(4), 987.

15. Memory: Lund University. (2017, February 10). Gut bacteria may play a role in Alzheimer’s disease. ScienceDaily. Retrieved May 28, 2018 from

16. Adrenal Health: Konturek, P. C., Brzozowski, T., & Konturek, S. J. (2011). Stress and the gut: pathophysiology, clinical consequences, diagnostic approach and treatment options. Journal of physiology and pharmacology : an official journal of the Polish Physiological Society, 6, 591–599

17. Adrenal Health: Cryan, J. F., & O’Mahony, S. M. (2011). The microbiome-gut-brain axis: From bowel to behavior. Neurogastroenterology & Motility, 23(3), 187–192. doi:10.1111/j.1365–2982.2010.01664.x

18. Exercise: Clarke, S. F., Murphy, E. F., O’sullivan, O., Lucey, A. J., Humphreys, M., Hogan, A., . . . Cotter, P. D. (2014). Exercise and associated dietary extremes impact on gut microbial diversity. Gut, 63(12), 1913–1920.

19, Headaches: Antonio Gonzalez, Embriette Hyde, Naseer Sangwan, Jack A. Gilbert, Erik Viirre, Rob Knight. Migraines Are Correlated with Higher Levels of Nitrate-, Nitrite-, and Nitric Oxide-Reducing Oral Microbes in the American Gut Project Cohort. mSystems Oct 2016, 1 (5) e00105-16; DOI: 10.1128/mSystems.00105-16

20, Attention: Carmen Cenit, María & Campillo Nuevo, Isabel & codoñer-franch, Pilar & G. Dinan, Timothy & Sanz, Yolanda. (2017). Gut microbiota and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder: new perspectives for a challenging condition. European Child & Adolescent Psychiatry. 26. 10.1007/s00787-017-0969-z.

21. Cancer: Fellows et al. 2018. Microbiota derived short chain fatty acids promote histone crotonylation in the colon through histone deacetylases. Nature.  9(105). doi:10.1038/s41467-017-02651-5.

Tsai et al. 2018. Prospective clinical study of circulating tumor cells for colorectal cancer screening. Journal of Clinical Oncology. 36, no. 4_suppl. 556-556… DOI: 10.1200/JCO.2018.36.4_suppl.556.

22. 6. Bullman et al. 2017. Analysis of Fusobacterium persistence and antibiotic response in colorectal cancer. DOI: 10.1126/science.aal5240

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