#and all of this has been setting off my usual depression symptoms ive been sort of ignoring bc of work but are now Very Loud

[malt-rants-and-stuff]

Hey malt um i see u posting about an anime on my dash and im getting into a lot of different anime to fill the homeless gay dog void um. Do you wanna tell me about your anime maybe?

OH DO I? finn my dear friend you dont even know what you're getting into here. reaching into the depths of my true form: main fandom brainrot.

okay given that im sasamiya posting rn im going to Assume you mean them but i was also posting about dunmeshi earlier so if you wanna hear about that too just let me know but AH. There is so much to sayyyy

Okay going to try and break it down to the basics here but sasamiya (or as its actual title, Sasaki to Miyano) is basically my mcu. my sasamiya-verse. there are two manga series currently ongoing in this universe but the world is in my hands and there are so many other fandom made one's i'll get into in a bit. But For Now.

Sasaki to Miyano's basic premise is- as copied from mdex because it really is worded best there- "It all started like a typical old-school boys’ love plotline—bad-boy senior meets adorably awkward underclassman, one of them falls in love, and so on and so forth. But although Miyano is a self-proclaimed boys’ love expert, he hasn’t quite realized…he’s in one himself. Which means it’s up to Sasaki to make sure their story has a happily ever after…!"

That's it. fun and simple and sweet gay love story set-up we love to see it. Except that it can never be so simple. Because the author, harusono shou, does this crazy thing called being a really good writer who creates beautifully alive characters for me to shake like maracas in my brain.

Like, you think it's simple. Miyano is a loveable bl fan who hasn't put much thought into his sexuality, Sasaki is the guy he successfully gets into his hyperfixation and they grow from that shared interest into an adorable relationship. But Then they hit you with the Miyano body insecurities and youre like hey, wait a minute. And then they caually show Sasaki displaying every single symptom of undiagnosed depression in his childhood and you have to stop and go hey... And then they have to have Hanzawa mother fucking Masato (lovingly said. absolute beloved character.) and you quickly realize that this isnt just some sweet romance story. it's a sweet romance story with the most quietly complicated character writing one only dreams of <- im biased and obsessed. may not be true to life but [shrugs] there is no one doing it like harusono and her thousands of words of character analysis that she has written about her own characters. i love her fr.

Im trying not to spoil things here really but it is genuinely such a lovely and interesting story, the light novels are literally my entire life, occasional side character Shirahama Kyouji is genuinely my favorite character and he probably has a total of 8 scenes in the translated manga so far. he was my blog theme for like 2 weeks straight earlier this year i am insufferable about him and everything he both is and isnt.

And that isn't even getting into Hirakagi. the agonies. Hirano to Kagiura, the technically prequel spin-off manga about sasaki's best friend and the gay shenanigans he gets up to with his roommate. they make me sob and also make me sick its great. could not reccomend it more even if you never read sasamiya or vice versa just one of them is such a great read.

The biggest appeal for me though is definately the fandom though. like i have been in So Many Fandoms as you can tell from the absolute chaos that is my blog, but ive probably only experienced this sort of fandom experience once before in my whole entire life. im so entrenched. the thing about being a, while popular, still very much a bl series that doesnt get much in terms of fan or official content, is that eventually something has to give. usually that means that the fandom is either dead or rarely gets talked about, which you would think to be true i you just looked at the main tags, but ive never been in a fandom that breathes to much... life?? into itself??? dont know how to word it. we make it work around here basically.

like after years of gaps between chapters we all collectively just went "okay how about we just do it ourselves" and essentially made the fandom into goncharov before there was ever a goncharov yk. like the actual story is really good and well done and then we all just went and made it our own to keep ourselves sane, and it worked!! we call it hanzawa to tashro!!! it is in our minds and also technically in the text. its so amazing here i cant even explain it well enough. my friends @/dirtbra1n @/aranarumei @/kagiuraakira and @/sunnnfish and so many others (we're all easy to find we stalk each other's blogs to talk about all of this) make awesome posts about it. #riverposting or #hanzawa to tashiro are good places to look if youre interested. i also talk about them A Lot over here to you can look through what I have too though a lot of it has like specific aus like #dating sim au and stuff tagged on mine, so the others are better bets for general meta posting fun. Just. Its so fun here. also if youve ever liked jeweler richard then shameless plug bc my dear friend kiri wrote the anomalous agate which is a beautiful and fun crossover with hanzawa to tashiro and tcfojr which is so so good if you're interested.

Just, there is a lot and this definately didn't cover it all. i want to explain riverposting but that takes Time and Context and also was explained before by sunnnfish on their blog im pretty sure (and they do amazing art over on @/sunnfish with 2 n's) if you ever feel like checking this all out. i love this place a lot.

[20cm]

sorry to be in MIA mode again :( i am hopeful that everything stops being So Much soon

[heysawbones]

Congratulations, Me; You’re Slow

Surprise, me! You’re literally slow. As in, your processing speed - the rate at which your brain takes in stimuli and makes sense of it - is below average. Quantitatively. The average is 100. Yours is 94. 

Three years ago, I was given a cognitive battery. I’ve had an unusually high number of these in my life. Most people will never have even one. I’ve had four; one to assess for the Gifted and Talented program in kindergarten, one to reassess for the same when I changed school districts, one to assess for ADHD, and yet another, the latest, to assess for the same, as the prior records were lost. ADHD runs in my family, but I seem to have been one of those kids who compensated really, really well. Was I organized? Not even a little. Lose things? Constantly. I procrastinated like a motherfucker, too, but it was usually easy to make up the work in class before it was due. I would drive hard to complete the GT project-based assignments at the last minute, and always did fine. Better than fine, even. Sure, I used to obsessively braid yarn or draw in class, but nobody had any reason to suspect I would have issues with things like maintaining attention or executive function later on. If they did, I never heard about it. Even today, it’s not obvious; people associate a certain flightiness with ADHD and that isn’t me. People associate a lot of things with ADHD that aren’t me. This has been so much of an issue, in fact, that despite meeting diagnostic criteria over and over, as admitted by clinicians, people have been hesitant to give me the diagnosis. The argument deployed tends to be: you have all the symptoms, but you also have chronic depression, which has the same symptoms, so we’ll just go with that one. The underlying rationale, the unspoken answer to “why can’t it be both? they often co-occur” seems to be: you are too articulate and self-aware to have ADHD. It boils down to you’re too smart to be slow. 

This is unfair to me, and demonstrably untrue, besides. I recognized this long ago. I am the one who has to figure out some way to compensate for the symptoms. Yes, the symptoms of depression and ADHD overlap (especially if you are depressed for a long time), but the treatment of those symptoms is not the same. I have been in treatment for depression for over ten years. Am I better than I was? Unquestionably so. 

Do I function at a level sustainable for an adult not on disability? Can I get places on time? Can I catch a plane without showing up 14 hours early, lest I show up 14 hours late, or at the wrong airport entirely, instead? Do I remember things people told me yesterday? Can I go to Target without the possibility of getting caught up in a weird cognitive trap where I want bananas, but am too guilty to buy them unless I do the rest of my grocery shopping, which I don’t have the mental energy for? Do I remember enough of my meds when I go on trips? Can I stop persistently putting things in places that make no sense, and then having no idea that I’ve done it 15 seconds later? Can I manage an adult’s schedule? Can I remember to pay bills on time? Can I remember what I’ve spent money on in the last week? Can I remember what I ate this morning? Can I hold down a job that is, honestly, below my abilities in many ways?

The answer is, of course, sometimes yes. Distressingly frequently, it is no. Where travel is concerned, it is always no, and somehow, I have managed to show up at the wrong airport entirely more than once. 

Yes, I recognize that these are problems all people have, to some degree, at some time in their lives. If people are willing to act on the belief that I am too smart to be slow, why is it that when I account for my concerns and attempt to articulate the impact they have on my life, I am suddenly not self-aware anymore, and am only overreacting to what obviously MUST be the same degree of these problems that other reasonable adults experience? Why am I credible in other areas, but not this one? If I am so smart, why is it assumed that I’ve failed to account for my own emotional bias when gauging the difficulty I am experiencing? Why is it more satisfying to assume that I am not trying hard enough, then it is to accept that a smart, self-aware person may, in fact, have some kind of Brain Problem that, really, there is no logical contraindication to, and much evidence, for? When I do the responsible thing and insistently pursue all reasonable options to address my mental and neurological health, with the goal of being a functional contributor to society, why is this so persistently reduced to a fetish specifically for an ADHD diagnosis? I’m smart when it’s convenient for others, but not when it comes to the ability to draw cause and effect relationships from my own behavior, and make comparisons between those and the behavior of others? If I got treatment that worked, I wouldn’t care what the diagnosis was. Come the fuck on. I’m tired of this.

-----

Anyway. I sat down with the results of that three-year-old cognitive battery. I’ve read the summary before; it’s peppered with lines like

“There is also considerable other evidence in this testing consistent with a diagnosis of ADHD”

“In my experience, some individuals who are very bright are able to compensate for some of their disability”

“this distribution of index scores is very typical of individuals with ADHD”

“Many of the behaviors she describes are certainly typical of individuals who suffer from ADHD. Unfortunately, the coexisting history of chronic major depression and PTSD make that differential diagnosis based on history alone difficult” 

When I first read that last year, I was shocked because the therapist who requested the cognitive battery, only expressed surprise that I was “very smart” and said that my “scores were fine.” When I later confronted him after having read the summary myself, he merely admitted that some of my scores were “lower than others”. He never entertained the possibility that I had ADHD, which in an of itself, wouldn’t have been a problem if he’d been willing to just try the treatments for it, since clearly the two industrial-strength doses of antidepressants I was already on, were not cutting it. Alas, he was not, and it wasn’t until after he retired that the issue was addressed again.

Surprisingly, I was not the person who addressed it. When my therapist-MD retired, I needed at least a primary care provider to manage my medications. Since the appointment was for psych med management, I had to fill out a bunch of related intake forms - you likely know the kind. While looking them over, my new doctor peered up at me and asked, “Has anybody ever suggested that you might have ADHD?” I was taken aback by the question and wasn’t sure where to start. Them? Asking me? if I have ADHD? She asked me? 

I told her that I’d had two full cognitive batteries done, and that both of them concluded roughly the same thing: yes, all the symptoms are there, no, we do not know if it’s ADHD because there’s too much background noise from other psych issues. Without skipping a beat, she said the most amazing thing to me: 

Well, whatever it is, you have the symptoms, so let’s treat them.

God. Why didn’t someone say that years ago? Diagnoses are human constructs; we use them to group symptoms that tend to occur together, when they’re thought to have the same causes. Depression and ADHD have many (but not all) of the same symptoms, but the overlap doesn’t qualify as a diagnosis because the causes are assumed to be different. I think we often forget that diagnoses are containers for commonalities that we use to make talking about medicine easier, not necessarily biological phenomena unto themselves. If you remember that they are containers - a sort of conceptual shorthand - then it follows that if one treatment for a set of symptoms isn’t solving the problem, you ought to try a different treatment often used for the same symptoms, even if the minutiae of diagnosis means you aren’t sure you can apply the diagnosis typically associated with that second treatment*.

I am now on Vyvanse. Does it magically solve my problems? No. Does it help? Yes. I am in a much better position to actually address the bad habits and coping mechanisms someone like me builds up over the years. The notable insomnia should wear off over time, and besides, as a person with an existing sleep disorder, having fucked up sleep isn’t new. It’s a price I’m willing to pay.

-----

Anyway. So I sat down with the results of that three-year-old cognitive battery, because I had to dig them up for my new therapist. Instead of reading the summary, I dug into the raw numbers: the related tests are the Weschler Adult Intelligence Scale IV (WAIS-IV), and the Weschler Memory Scale III (WMS-III). I couldn’t find sufficient guidance on interpreting the WMS-III, so I’ll stick with the WAIS-IV scores:

At first inspection, these scores do look “fine”. Anything within 10 points of 100 in either direction qualifies as “average”, even if 100 is “the average”. But on further reading, both in the summary and out: 

-Examination of these results reveals considerable significant variability between various functional capacities, with VCI of 141 a full 3 standard deviations above PSI of 94.** Problems with both working memory and processing speed impacted her overall IQ considerably, bringing her Full Scale IQ down to 120 (from 133). 

-A significant difference among subtest scores can suggest a problem in the particular skill being tested; this might underlie a learning disability. A significant difference among standard Index Scores might also indicate a learning disability, ADHD

-when I see a difference in IQ scores such that the verbal and nonverbal scores are far superior to the processing speed score, I try to discern what could be causing the discrepancy.

-LD diagnoses are also reliant on score discrepancies. On the WAIS, a gifted individual with ADHD may look like this.

Verbal comprehension - 132

Perceptual Reasoning - 129

Processing Speed - 97

Working memory - 101

Absolute scores aren’t the only diagnostic tool. Relative scores are also important. For example, average scores across the board wouldn’t be indicative of a working memory or processing speed issue, whereas great discrepancies between those parameters and others, is - even if the working memory and processing speed scores themselves are the same in both examples. What I’m saying is, it’s right there. It’s in the numbers. There’s no wiggle room. My old therapist saw these numbers, and not only did he choose not to act on the information, he pointedly refused to do so. If he hadn’t retired, I’d look into suing for malpractice. It’s in the god damn numbers, my dude. I don’t care what you want to call it, the deficit is right. there.

What did I ever do to him? Did he just... not believe ADHD is real? More to the point, did he think I somehow, without knowing the ins and outs of the WAIS-IV, faked the deficits or something? Really, guy, what the hell?

-----

Do I feel bad about being slow? Honestly, no. I might have if I found this out 10 years ago, or in circumstances wherein that reality didn’t perfectly explain aspects of my experience that other people have been prone to downplay, or dismiss entirely. Instead, it’s the closest I can get to scientific verification that I’m not just losing my shit over nothing over here; that something has, in fact, gone awry, and may always have been awry. I couldn’t compensate forever (though the ways I’ve done it are many, and in retrospect, interesting) and now I’m on the other end of it, trying to rebuild. I am, as I like to say, building an exoskeleton - something that will hold me up when my brain insists on faceplanting. I’m just grateful there’s someone out there who isn’t too caught up in the semantic navel-gazing of diagnosis, to help.

*There are obvious exceptions here, such as when the two diagnoses have causes whose treatment is contraindicated in the other diagnosis. This is not the case with depression and ADHD.

** You see that Percentile Rank of 34? That means I performed better than 34 percent of people my age, at least according to the test sample. That’s. Not great.

[lesbeet]

long post ahead

ive been thinking nonstop about the possibility of me having adhd since my sister and her boyfriend brought it up to me last week (i’m FINALLY seeing my therapist today so we can talk about it) and i’ve been doing a lot of research and i found the howtoadhd channel on youtube

and literally the number of times in the past 2 hours alone that i’ve teared up or started legitimately crying because of how much i relate to things that these videos are saying is ridiculous, like some of them are word-for-word things i’ve said that i had NO inkling of an idea could be related to adhd

like this one video of this guy who was diagnosed at 43 and said that prior to his diagnosis he had just accepted that he would feel dissatisfied for his whole life, that he would never feel content, i’ve been saying that for YEARS and just was resigned to it and chalked it up solely to my depression

and just like. having been able to do well in school as a kid but constantly being told that i’m “not living up to [my] potential” and now that i’m in my early 20s and my intelligence can’t compensate for like....not being able to regulate my emotions and not being able to organize my life and not being able to motivate myself to do things, which is supposedly why a number of people get diagnosed around this time, because metrics for success are different in adulthood (you can’t just take a test and rely on being smart to compensate for all the other problems), and i was always just. thinking that i fucked up and wasted my life through laziness or whatever the case may be

i’ve always considered myself to be “crafty” and “resourceful” in the sense that i may not go about doing things in the typical way but i can almost always find a way to accomplish what i need accomplished, even if it’s unconventional -- apparently that’s common with adhd too! like i’ll say “oh i couldn’t figure out how to do [x] so i did [y and z]” and someone will be like “why didn’t you just do [thing everyone else does]” and usually i either couldn’t figure out how, or it didn’t occur to me, and my way was weird and unconventional, but it worked for me!

and then of course i’m just recognizing all these signs that have always been there that i either didn’t notice or attributed to other things -- i’ve been trying to observe the way my attention functions this week and literally i space out and miss things SO much more often than i ever realized, like i miss so much information because i’ve drifted off. or i get really stuck on things in conversations and even after everyone else has moved on i have this urge to bring it back so i can say that last thing i’ve been rehearsing over and over for the past 5 minutes so i didn’t forget it, and now it’s in my head and everyone is talking about something else and it’s SO inconsequential but i have to forcibly drag myself away from whatever the thing is (yesterday my sister and her friend and i were talking about early 2000′s fashion and i wanted to make a comment about wearing ugly scarves as belts and they saw a dog and moved on to talking about cute things our dogs have done and i just couldn’t stop thinking about the scarves as belts thing for like 10 minutes until i just had to sigh and be like...well i can’t bring that up again now)

when i was younger i would rush through tests so i could go back to whatever book i was reading and i just thought it was a silly quirk like “oh i just like to read lol” but i realized i still do similar things -- if i’m reading a book or watching a show or working on something, THAT is what i’m doing. anything else, whether it’s work or sleep or eating or hanging out with a friend or fulfilling any sort of responsibility? that’s a break from the thing i’m doing. if i’m reading a book, even if it’s the 3rd time i’m rereading harry potter for the year, for example, then in my head, i’m reading harry potter. i have to go to work all day but then i can read harry potter. all i’m doing is thinking about reading harry potter. i rush through my responsibilities so i can go BACK to reading harry potter, because that’s what i’m doing and anything else is just taking a break from reading harry potter. (you see how this can negatively affect the accomplishment/fulfillment of important tasks and responsibilities)

and my sister has pointed out things that i didn’t really notice, like she said it’s really difficult to hold a conversation with me when i’m excited about something because i can’t calm down enough to let the other person talk. and i’ve always known that i tend to finish peoples’ sentences for them during conversations, which i always thought was a way of showing that i’m listening! but ive realized it’s actually that, if i already know what you’re going to say, and you’re saying it too slowly, i get impatient and i need to blurt out the rest for you so we can move on and i can say my next thing before i forget it

and like obviously all people experience some symptoms some of the time, daydreaming isn’t exclusive to adhd, neither is walking into a room and forgetting what you’re doing there. but this week as i’ve been paying attention, i notice i do it CONSTANTLY. the other night i opened up my phone before bed because i remembered i hadn’t set my alarm, so i picked it up from where i place it for the night (i was about to go to sleep). 15 minutes later i put my phone back down and decided to turn in for the night again, and then realized i still had never turned the alarm on because i got distracted and did other stuff. and things like that happen with almost comical regularity, now that i know to look for it.

i’ve known i have executive dysfunction issues for a long time so i won’t go into those, but like we’ve known i have problems with directions and organization and spatial processing and knowing how to complete tasks for a long time

the rejection-sensitive dysphoria is something i didn’t really realize was part of adhd, but it makes SO much sense. i think it’s part of why i thought i had bpd for a while, because a lot of the symptoms were similar and i knew i was dealing with something more than just depression and anxiety but didn’t know what, and a lot of the symptoms i experienced also seemed to fit the bpd diagnosis even if my actual behavior and personality didn’t seem to

there are so many more things i’ve noticed this week and thought about differently but i literally can’t remember what they are lmao i think i’m gonna try to write stuff down so i don’t forget to tell my therapist today but like. 

so many of these things i didn’t realize had anything to do with adhd, like emotional dysregulation, i’ve always known i have horrible mood swings and trouble regulating my emotions, i’ve always noticed a lot of these different symptoms but it never occurred to me that they could all be part of the same thing??

like i haven’t been tested or diagnosed yet and i’m worried i’m getting carried away but the only time i’ve ever felt this sort of relief was a few months ago when realizing my dad is a narcissist. like the feeling of “oh my god, i knew this was something i experienced but i didn’t think i could attribute it to anything” and “oh my god, this is word for word something i say all the time, i didn’t realize it was part of a pattern”

and it genuinely made me cry! hearing people talk about things that describe me that i never would have guessed might have to do with adhd, finding something that seems to encompass a very broad range of symptoms that i previously thought were unrelated or results of a myriad of things (and obviously they all play off of one another but that’s a whole separate issue)

but it would explain so much of my behavior and challenges -- why i struggle with finishing up a task or project once the big, complicated part is done; why i get super obsessed with something and then once it wears off i never mention or think about it again; why i’ve always needed my mom’s help to clean my closet or pack for a trip, even though i felt like i was way too old to need help with that; why people constantly are like “i know you heard me say this because you said ‘ok’” about things i genuinely have no recollection of

but i just can’t stop thinking about that guy talking about how he was just resigned to thinking he would never been satisfied or content with his life because that is something i have been feeling and saying FOREVER, for years ive just been like “everything is so hard, the idea of spending the rest of my life struggling to get up in the morning and going to work every day, dealing with all my responsibilities, i feel like i’m exhausted and underwater just thinking about it, i’m never going to feel fulfilled or satisfied, it’s always just going to be slogging through my responsibilities and it’s never going to end” and apparently that’s....a normal thing, and i just thought it was depression and maybe part of it is, but maybe the reason i struggle so much with those every day things is because my brain is wired differently?

and maybe i’ve fucked up because at this point i think i’ll be really disappointed if i don’t get the diagnosis because i’m not really sure what else could explain these issues, it certainly makes sense and i feel like it fits and i feel relieved just thinking about having that answer, and it certainly negatively impacts almost every aspect (if not every aspect) of my life. so like if i don’t get diagnosed idk what i’m gonna do and i probably fucked up by spending the last week obsessing over it lol

but like....the relief i feel every time i read or hear or see someone with adhd say “i experience [x]” and i’m like holy shit??? me too???? and it just. feels like maybe there’s an explanation for all this horrible dissatisfaction and unhappiness i thought i was going to be stuck with for the rest of my life, and there are other people who experience these things and there are things that can be done, medication and therapy and strategies and...my whole life doesn’t NEED to feel like a challenge, maybe it’s not an indisputable fact that i’m just going to have to live with forever.

if you read this far and you have adhd (especially if you were diagnosed after childhood) i would love to hear your thoughts on this, obviously i didn’t list every single symptom and experience and i know there are more but these are all i could think of at the moment, if i seem like i’m way off base obviously please let me know

[dantediscoversfic]

Chapter 31: Oscar Ramirez

I got over the flu but it left behind a restless drawn-tight feeling inside me that I couldn’t shake. I went to visit Ari every day but other than that I didn’t leave my room much. My mom finally insisted on scheduling an appointment for me to see one of her counselor colleagues, Oscar Ramirez. I didn’t fight her too hard on it. I knew it was probably a good idea to talk someone. Oscar worked for the same shelter/halfway house my mom did in addition to having an off-site office. I’d met a few of her colleagues before but never Oscar, which made the idea of talking to him easier somehow.

Ari had been released from the hospital for about a week and a half by the time I went to talk to Oscar for the first time. I’d been going over to Ari’s house every day to visit him. Sometimes we’d go for “walk and rolls” around the neighborhood but mostly we hung out in his room. I decided to read The Sun Also Rises aloud to him (mostly because Hemingway’s sparse, terse writing style reminded me of Ari, but I didn’t tell him that). I read a chapter or two each visit and we’d talk about it after. One time we talked about where we’d go if we decided to become dissolute ex-patriots like the characters in the novel and travel the world together. I wanted to go to Paris; Ari wanted to go to Iceland or Norway. When I asked him why, he said he was sick of the Texas heat and wanted to see the Northern Lights.

“I bet there’s no light pollution up there,” he said.

“Sure, no light pollution, but the winter’s colder than a witch’s tit.”

He snorted. “I wouldn’t mind the cold.”

“How do you know? You’ve lived in Texas your whole life.”

“It snows here sometimes, you know. Like two Christmases ago.”

“I know, but El Paso winter is nothing like up there. We’d need to bring special snowsuits and camping gear or risk dying of hypothermia.”

“It’d be worth it though. To go somewhere so remote and cold and quiet.”

“Sounds like you really want to go on vacation to The Fortress of Solitude.”

“Hey, don’t knock The Fortress. A man needs a place where he can be alone and think.”

“And freeze his face and nuts off in the process.”

“That’s just the price you pay to stop everyone being all up in your business all the time. And anyway, Superman is impervious to frost bite. And don’t talk about Superman’s nuts. That’s sacrilegious.”

“I wasn’t talking about Superman’s nuts specifically. Just frozen nuts in general.”

“Okay okay enough with the nuts talk. Jesus.”

“What? They’re just a body part. No weirder than pinky toes or noses.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. Hey I’m pretty wiped…so…I might take a nap or something.”

Ari’s face was flushed he looked sort of agitated so I cut my visit short after that. I could tell something was off between us but I didn’t try to press him. Sometimes when I went to visit I wasn’t even sure if he wanted me there. I figured he had every reason to be resentful of me. It was my fault he was stuck at home for the rest of the summer, at the mercy of his painfully itchy and useless legs. I was afraid more than anything that he’d want to stop being friends with me if I needled him too much or asked him what was wrong. So it was easier to talk about books or imaginary plans to travel the world together than what I actually wanted to talk about, which was how badly I was going to miss him when we moved and how sorry I still was about the accident.

When the time came for my appointment with the counselor, I was nervous even though I knew seeking counseling was a totally normal thing to do. Nothing to be ashamed of.

“Do I have to lay down on a couch?” I asked my mom on the car ride over.

She smiled. “Of course not. That’s the sort of thing you really only see in movies nowadays.”

“Good, because that part always seemed a little weird. Do I have to analyze my dreams?”

“Only if you want to.”

“What if I run out of things to say and we just stare at each other in awkward silence the whole time?”

“You’ve never had a particular problem with maintaining conversation, Dante. You can talk to him about whatever you want. Or not talk. No pressure.”

What I really wanted to ask her was if she thought the accident had messed me up somehow, or worse, messed Ari up, and that’s the real reason she wanted me to talk to a counselor. Not physically messed us up. But if I’d caused something to get broken inside us. I had no issue with the field of psychiatry in general, seeing as it was my mother’s profession, but I didn’t like the idea of a stranger realizing there was something wrong with me that needed fixing.

Oscar had an office in the El Paso Child and Teen Guidance Center, which was located in a shopping center. That sort of surprised me. I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t the totally mundane looking storefront hiding in plain sight next to a hair salon, pet store and a travel agency. Oscar greeted us at the reception desk, where he kissed my mom on the cheek and shook my hand.

Oscar was around my parents’ age. He was on the stocky side, but not fat or anything. He was the type of solid build that you could describe as equally fitting for a linebacker and a big teddy bear. He had a round, friendly face and close cut salt-and-pepper black hair that didn’t do much to make his appearance less boyish and wholesome. He had a firm handshake and big hands.

“Dante, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Your mom has told me a lot about you.”

“Thanks, you too. I mean, nice to meet you, too.”

After my mom checked me in and filled out some paperwork, she left me with Oscar and told me she’d be waiting for me in the reception area.

Oscar’s office was bright and decorated with colorful furniture, throw rugs and artwork, which also surprised me. In my mind I’d pictured something much more stuffy and clinical. To one side of the room was a small couch and an armchair, both plush and comfy looking; between them was a coffee table with a box of Kleenex on it, which I was determined I would not have to use come hell or high water. On the other side of the room was a kid-sized table and chairs plus art supplies and toy boxes, set up like a mini preschool. Seeing the kid stuff made me feel strange. A little sad for the kids who needed to come in here. The office also had a desk, several bookshelves, and a beverage station. Overall it felt more like a living room than an office.

Oscar gestured toward the couch. “Please, take a seat. Make yourself comfortable. Do you want some water? Tea?”

“I’m okay.”

Oscar sat down in the armchair across from me. “So, Dante. Before we get started, I just wanted to let you know that even though your mother and I are colleagues and she let me know a little bit about why she wanted you to come see me today, I want you to feel like this is a safe space to share anything that’s on your mind with the understanding that I take your trust and confidentiality seriously.”

“Even though I’m a minor and you’re legally allowed to tell my parents what we discuss?” I asked. I’d done my research about confidentiality ahead of time. More than the accident I wanted to talk about what it meant that I loved my best friend who was a boy, but I’d decided already to keep that part of me sealed in the vault no matter what. I couldn’t be 100% sure he wouldn’t tell my parents about that.

Oscar smiled. “You are definitely Soledad’s son. Yes, you’re absolutely correct. Even though you’re a minor I would breach confidentiality only if I was worried for your personal safety or the safety of others or in the rare instance that my notes were subpoenaed by a court order.”

“Wow, that would be pretty badass.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow but was still grinning. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Sure, yeah. I was just joking. Discussion of client confidentiality protocol: check.”

It was a relief to hear him say he wasn’t going to tell my parents everything we talked about, but I still wasn’t quite ready to dive right into the accident.

“I like your office,” I said, stalling. I pointed to the kids’ area. “Do you work with a lot of children?”

“A fair number.”

“Do you do art therapy with them?”

“Sometimes. It depends on the child.”

“I’ve read all about the field of art therapy. I think it’s fascinating. If I don’t become a professional artist I might become an art therapist.”

“Would you like to do any drawing right now? We could start with some art exercises if you’re not in the mood to talk at the moment.”

“No, that’s okay. It’s hard for me to draw because of my broken arm. I’m a right-y. But thanks for offering.”

“So you’re okay to talk?”

I nodded.

“I’m glad. So, I understand from your mother that you and a friend of yours were involved in a car accident about three weeks ago and she’s concerned you haven’t been quite yourself since. That you’ve been having nightmares and seem much more withdrawn than usual. Do you want to talk about the accident? Or about what’s been on your mind?”

“So she already told you what happened?”

“Briefly. But I’d like to hear it from you, if you feel comfortable talking about it.”

“Well, it’d been raining and I went out into the street and didn’t see a car coming.” For some reason I didn’t want to tell him about the injured bird I’d seen. “Ari pushed me out of the way of the car and broke both his legs and his arm. He could have died but he didn’t.”

“Ari is your friend?”

“Yeah, my best friend.”

“How is he handling everything?”

“Um. Ok. I dunno. He can be kind of hard to read sometimes. They recently let him out of the hospital. He’s stuck in casts for the rest of the summer because of me.”

“And how have you felt since the accident?”

“I think my mom is worried that I’m showing signs of anxiety, depression and PTSD and that’s why they want me to talk to you. But I don’t have PTSD.”

“No?”

“No. I looked it up in the DSM-IV.” I ticked each symptom off with my fingers. “I’m not having recurring flashbacks or panic attacks. I’m not avoiding cars or the street. I’m not having angry outbursts. Well, I’m still kind of pissed at my parents about deciding to move to Chicago but that’s a different thing. Yeah, my dreams have been a little weird and I’m not sleeping great but that’s because my arm cast is so annoying. So I think we can safely say I don’t have PTSD. Possibly a little low-level anxiety. But I do deep breaths if I start feeling weird.”

“I don’t want to rule anything out just yet, but I’m happy to hear you’re listening to your body and your emotions. What do you mean when you say you start feeling weird?”

“I guess…sad. Stomach crampy. Frustrated. I think I’m worried about Ari. About how he’s recovering. About not being able to help him when we move.”

“It sounds to me like you might blame yourself for what happened to Ari.”

“Well, yeah, because it was my fault.”

“Who said it was your fault?”

“No one said it was my fault. But it obviously was.”

“Why do you feel that way?”

“It’s not feelings, it’s the facts. I went out to the street, I wasn’t paying attention and Ari got hurt because I was stupid and off in my own little world instead of paying attention to the road. And the thing about Ari is, he doesn’t like it when I’m upset, so he only let me apologize once and then he said we’re not allowed to talk about the accident anymore. He has some kind of stoic boy code about it. He wants to pretend it never happened.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Well, I don’t think we should, you know, dwell on it or anything. But I want him to know how sorry I am that I almost got him killed and ruined the rest of his summer.”

“Did Ari say anything like that to you? That you ruined his summer?”

“No. But he’s not big on talking anyway. But, like I said before, it’s a fact. Now he’s stuck in a wheelchair until his legs heal and he can’t do anything except hang around his house and read books and I know he’s pissed about it even if he won’t say anything.”

“Has he ever expressed anger or regret about what he did? That he saved your life?”

“No. Nothing like that. He’s just been moody and sullen. I mean, he’s been in a lot of pain so I don’t blame him for being crabby. I just don’t want him to hate me.”

“Why do you think he would hate you? It seems to me to be quite the opposite, that he cares about you very much. Do you want to tell me about him? How did you two become friends?”

“We met at the pool. I offered to give him swimming lessons. Because he didn’t know how to swim properly.”

“You like to swim?”

“Almost more than anything. Well, I like swimming, reading, drawing, stargazing and hanging out with Ari pretty much equally.” I lifted my cast arm and pulled a face. “Now my life is pretty much limited to reading and hanging out with Ari and teaching myself to become ambidextrous. Not that I’m complaining. I mean, I’m lucky to be alive. I know it’s babyish but I miss swimming with him. I wish I could retcon the whole day of the accident.”

“Retcon?”

“Oh that’s a comic book thing. Basically when the writers change things retroactively in a story to make up for continuity errors. Sort of like a big do-over. Usually that sort of thing bugs the heck out of me because it seems so lazy. But I get the appeal now. Like you have God’s big eraser.”

“It’s natural to wish you could change the past so easily. But it’s equally important to learn how to move forward. And to not beat yourself up over something you can’t change.”

I shrugged and picked at my cast. “I just keep thinking that if it had been Ari in the middle of the road, I wouldn’t have been able to save him. I wouldn’t have been fast or strong enough. He was like Superman, the way he dove at me and pushed me out of the way.”

“Why do you think you wouldn’t have been able to help him if your roles were reversed?”

“Because when I saw the car coming, I just froze.”

“That could have been your body experiencing a fight or flight reaction. And also Ari saw the car coming whereas you did not, yes? So he had more time to think and react.”

“But still, I don’t think I could ever be as brave as he was.”

“You may be underestimating yourself and your strength. It sounds to me like you’re beating yourself up about a theoretical past as well as construing what actually happened to place all the blame on yourself. Just imagine what the people driving the car must have felt like. They most likely felt guilt as well. But motor accidents happen so quickly, in a blink of an eye, that it’s not helpful to play the blame game after the fact, particularly if it’s determined that the driver wasn’t under the influence of drugs or alcohol and the accident was just that: an accident. I would advise you to try not to blame yourself for the actions of others. And if that’s difficult, you may want to ask yourself, what am I getting out of continuing to blame myself for something that was out of my control?”

I didn’t quite know what to say to that.

He must have seen my confusion so he rephrased his question. “In other words, are you holding onto feelings of guilt and shame because you don’t think you’re worthy of having a friend who cares about you enough to put his own life in danger to save yours?”

I didn’t think I was worthy of it. But thinking about that made me start to feel like I might cry, which I had been determined not to do, so I clamped down and said nothing for awhile.

After a bit of silence Oscar said, “You know, I never read comics but my daughter loves them.”

“Really? Which ones? Betty and Veronica?”

“Actually The X-Men is her favorite. She loves all the Saturday morning cartoons based on comics, too.”

“How old is she?”

“Twelve.”

“And she doesn’t think X-Men is too scary?”

“Well, she’s always been a tough little cookie. Never was into any of the princess stuff. Except She-Ra Princess of Power. She adores She-Ra.”

“She-Ra is pretty rad.”

“Do you have a favorite comic?”

“Ari teases me about it, but I really like Archie. He thinks they’re lame. Which, sure, yeah, they can be pretty cheesy. But I don’t like the really dark comics.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. There’s no rule that says you have to like all the same things your friends do.”

“Believe me I know that. I know I’m a little weird.”

“What makes you say that?”

“It’s not a secret or anything. Ari’s the first guy I’ve met my age who really gets me. I’ve never really had a best friend like him before. Not since we moved to El Paso anyway. I had a best friend in California but that was already years ago. We hardly see each other or write letters anymore.”

“And you’re worried that the accident and the move to Chicago will have a negative impact on your friendship with Ari? That you’ll lose touch and stop being friends? And you blame yourself for this future you see happening?”

I nodded, hoping to dislodge the traitorous lump that was forming in my throat.

“You’ve told me Ari hasn’t expressed anger or regret to you about the accident. It sounds to me like he values you and your friendship very much. He values you enough to have put himself at risk when he saw you were in danger. This doesn’t sound to me like a fair weather friend. And there are many ways to stay in touch. You can write letters and talk on the phone.”

“Sure, yeah.”

“I’d like to circle back to what you said at the start, about you being insistent about not having PTSD.”

“Okay…”

“It’s important to remember that everyone reacts to stress and trauma differently. You have in fact experienced a traumatic event. Your life and the life of your best friend was put in danger. For many people, acute stages of trauma may occur two to four weeks after the event itself. So it’s totally normal for your life and mental health to take some time settle back into place. You’re allowed to feel frustrated, angry, worried, scared and whatever other emotions might arise. It’s important to not rush to judge or ignore your feelings. You’ve mentioned that Ari isn’t talkative when it comes to expressing emotions, which is valid and what he needs right now to process the accident. But for you, I get the sense that you have a lot you’d like to express, either verbally or visually. Would journaling or drawing about the accident help you move forward?”

“Maybe…I usually keep a journal but I haven’t been able to write or draw much with my broken arm. When I draw with my left hand it’s like I’m in preschool again.”

“As I’m sure you know, artists express emotions in non-figurative ways all the time. If I asked you to express your feelings about the accident in abstract visual form and not worry how it looks compared to your other drawings, would that be a helpful thing to do?”

“Maybe. It still might look like chicken scratch.”

“Nothing wrong with that. If you feel more comfortable creating a collage we can try that instead.”

"I'd like to try to draw I think."

Oscar got out some paper and colored pencils and markers and charcoals for me. Instead of sitting at the kiddie table he let me sit at his desk to work. The first thing he had me do was draw how thinking about the accident made me feel.

Without really thinking about it, I picked up a black charcoal and started drawing the injured bird in the middle of the road. I used heavy black strokes. It was frustrating at first to not have complete control of the charcoal like I usually did but just putting marks and lines on the paper felt okay. But the drawing still left me with a hollow feeling.

“This is what I saw,” I told Oscar. “I saw an injured bird in the road and I went to pick it up and that’s why I didn’t see the car coming. I think I killed it. The bird.”

“And this makes you sad?”

“Yeah. I wanted to save it. But it still got killed. And Ari got hurt. It was stupid of me. I should have seen the car coming.”

“Is there anything you can do to this drawing now to make you feel less sad about it?”

“When I first saw the bird, it was on the road. But then I picked it up and held it close to my chest.”

I drew a hand around the bird, but it still didn’t feel right. Too stark and bleak. Not how I remembered the bird at all.

“The bird had colors on it. But I can’t really remember what they were exactly.”

“It’s your bird now, Dante. You can add whatever colors to it you want.”

I remembered the made-up birds I used to draw when I was little: the rainbow rocketbird, the tawny tailblaster. Pages and pages of sketchbooks filled with imaginary creatures. I hadn’t judged myself then about how anatomically accurate they were or how technically proficient I was. I drew and created because it felt good. Right now my drawing didn’t make me feel good so I added colors to my bird’s wings and I turned the hand into a nest. That felt better.

I felt calmer after my drawing was finished. But something still bothered me.

“Do you think me changing the drawing of the bird is like retconning the accident?” I asked. “I mean, when I started, I thought I would draw the bird like I remembered it. But that made me feel terrible to picture it all stiff and dark and lifeless. I wanted to protect it. Now it looks more like it’s asleep than it’s dead. But that’s not what actually happened.”

“If drawing the bird like this helped you reframe your sadness and anger into something beautiful, then I think it’s a good thing.”

“It’s not cheating?”

“No, I don’t think it’s cheating at all. In fact, I think it’s more like forgiving.”

“Forgiving who?”

“Yourself.”

[matchmybreathing]

Battling disease

This is probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to sit down and write. Being a naturally optimistic person, I don’t exactly like interacting with my demons or the pain that has plagued me in the past. In some aspects, I enjoy living in denial and ignoring what is bad. I try to cling to the fact that maybe if I’m blissfully unaware then the pain will just go away. It’s my coping mechanism and it doesn’t work. It’s like playing hide and seek with your shadow; it’s impossible because it doesn’t go away, it’s always with you. I can’t will the world to just be good to me. I have to be able to handle the harsh realities and chronic illness does just that. It forces you to feel it and not turn away from it. Lyme disease transformed my life; It completely rocked my body, my heart, my soul. And although there were many times I cursed my illness, I’ve landed in a place in my journey where I’m grateful for it. I don’t think anything else could have transformed my life the way my disease has.

Over the years people have asked me about sharing what I've learned about dealing with Chronic Lyme disease. What has helped me? What has hindered? How have I made progress? And I’ve always been terrified to open the floodgates of explaining and getting deep about Lyme. It was the monster in the dark that I couldn’t see but knew it was there. And I just couldn’t bring myself up to opening myself up and diving in to what really has happened to me. But it’s so healing and I need to talk about it.

Lyme disease is a tick borne disease that is very hard to diagnose and then treat. It can come in all different types of shapes and forms. Funny, when I was diagnosed with it, I was THRILLED because I had always had silly little sicknesses that were treated with antibiotics, and I would get better within days. I thought the same with Lyme disease. I wasn't quite aware that this disease would take years of my life and make me quite miserable. I was blissfully unaware and hopeful.

One thing that is most frustrating is the fact that Lyme is INVISIBLE. One minute I feel okay, then all of a sudden it seems like the floor has been ripped out from underneath me and I need to sit or lie down immediately or else I will collapse. This can be confusing to most people because we looked fine just a few minutes ago. Most of the time people think it’s all in my head but they don't understand the dynamic of being chronically sick! It's a huge balance of managing your emotions, your diet, your supplements, medicine and knowing what you can put your time into. Some days all I can do is just sit around, take care of my body, crochet, or do some minor activity. It's rather depressing, especially if you've planned out your day and had wanted to be productive, but no, you're sick and you'll only get worse if you keep pushing yourself too hard so you stay at home.

I’m hoping that this blog post will shed some light on this disease and help others who have it, or have a loved one that has it. Mind you, I’m not going into all the details about it but I wanted to open up about my frustrations with people (mainly loved ones) that didn’t understand and struggled to support me. In fact, most of the time I had to worry about not getting their feelings hurt amongst dealing with pain, anxiety and depression. It was a bit of a nightmare and I became more and more of a recluse because I hated seeing people disappointed. I wish I had a safe, easy way of expressing that pain so someone would understand and that’s what I’m hoping this will be. It’ll either help you, or someone you love.

Things that have helped me with Lyme:

1) Although it is often overlooked, emotional health is absolutely essential to your physical health and healing. After about two years of treatment, I had become quite depressed. I didn’t want to get out of bed, I didn’t want to see people that I loved, I would barely get anything done and honestly, some days I just wanted to fall asleep and never wake up again. That’s when I started to see a counselor and began the hard journey of working through emotional hold ups. I was amazed at the relief that I felt when I realized this. Our emotions toll our bodies so easily and they can also fester in certain places in our bodies and cause disease. When I had breakthroughs, I began healing and feeling better. I was amazed how much my emotions were hurting my body and not giving it the right energies to actually heal properly. You should definitely look up emotions and how they are linked with chronic disease.

2) Understanding your limits is vital! What you are capable of doing, emotionally, mentally and physically is something that anyone needs to be aware of! When I was really sick and I would have a random good day, I would fill it up with everything and anything I possibly could and then I would go down hill fast. If I was a better manager of that day then I would have another good day until I pushed myself too hard, depleted my body and boom, I wasn't doing well again. It’s hard to find what works but don’t stop trying. You have to try almost everything and anything in the book to figure out what works for you and what doesn’t.

3) Feed yourself with good food and surround yourself with good people. When I switched to a predominantly vegan, gluten free, sugar free diet and started eating more fruits and vegetables, along with a smoothie loaded with supplements every morning, I found myself getting better! My body wasn't weighed down by bad food that would frequently make me sicker. On top of that, I began weeding out the people I hung out with and set firm boundaries. If I felt someone was sucking out the limited energy that I had, I would take a step back and analyze the situation, trying to figure out if it was a situation that could be fixed or if it was someone that just needed to go from my life. It definitely helped.

4) Find something that uplifts you! During my illness, I always had to do SOMETHING so that I wouldn't go crazy. I had to lift my spirits. Before I got sick, I was a pretty active person, and  I had always wanted to fill my days up with a lot of things, especially horses. But after I got sick, I couldn't go ride my horse, and if I could, it was only for a few minutes or else I would get very sick. It was depressing. I turned to being loved on by my dog and putting a lot of work into my art and talents that didn't require a lot of physical input from me and gave me immense joy. After awhile, I found that my depression was easier to manage because I could see how my dog would figure out I wasn't feeling well and would love on me and not let me leave his sight. On top of that, I could see what my hands were creating with art. I could write something down, a short story, or write a song and I could see that I created something through my hardship. Find what brings you joy, makes you laugh and don't let yourself get so focused on other things that you forget it.

5) Try anything and everything. It took my awhile to find something that worked for me. I tried all sorts of different treatments, antibiotics, IVs, Picc lines, oxygen therapy, etc and I didn’t really find that much helped me except for going to a kinesiologist weekly, taking a lot of supplements, diet and taking a homeopathic designated for Lyme disease. 6) Know how to detox. Make sure you drink plenty of water and have a bath with epsom salts at least once a day. It will help detox your body and you will feel better. In the early stages you will probably have a very overwhelmed body that when it detoxes just a little it will go into a full blown herxheimer reaction due to all the die off and the detoxing you’re experiencing. But it gets better.

7) Last but not least, you WILL GET BETTER. Say that with me again, YOU. WILL. GET. BETTER. Write it on your wall, have a reminder in your phone or somewhere obvious where you are reminded that your life is not over and you WILL get better. Positivity is the biggest factor.

Things to know if someone you love has Lyme:

1) When someone with Lyme is feeling absolutely horrible they are likely looking no different on the outside than they do on one of their “really good days”. This disease usually does not present itself with obvious visible symptoms, and if it does, we’re normally thrilled and want to show it off because battling a predominantly invisible disease is horrible -mainly because people just don’t understand. Be kind to us, don’t think we’re a bunch of hypochondriacs; that just makes us feel even worse.

2) People with Lyme disease quickly become amazing actors because otherwise no one would be our friend! Most people believe that a round of antibiotics will heal us and we will be normal again but they don’t realize how there is no “magic shot” or quick fix for chronic Lyme disease. What is most frustrating about this disease is that one treatment won’t fix all. Each Lyme case is unique and will respond differently to treatment. Often times we need months of treatment, an assortment of different doctors and health care practitioners before we find SOMETHING that works. It’s a frustrating journey, and no matter how upset you as a loved one may feel, know that the person you love feels it 100 times worse. We often feel disappointed and depressed that we aren’t better yet. We need your reassurance to stay hopeful so we can persevere through the hardships that are bound to happen with this awful disease.

3) Lyme treatment causes something known as a “herxheimer reaction”. Or a “herx” for short. Similar to how chemotherapy makes a cancer patient feel worse, when someone with Lyme disease takes antibiotics, it can cause a large amount of die off which releases a huge amount of toxins into the body. This basically results in all of our regular symptoms being amplified as it takes some work for our bodies to get rid of these newly circulating toxins. Often times our bodies are so overburdened that they are not efficient at detoxing these toxins well, so it’s a difficult process, and definitely not an easy one to endure at all. Unfortunately, it is often necessary to push through this in order to make improvements.

4) Lyme disease treatment is extremely expensive, and likely not covered by insurance. Most treatment that can be covered by insurance is the newly bitten person that has gotten a small amount of symptoms and begins taking a round of antibiotics. In most of these cases a few weeks or few months of antibiotics are all that is needed to regain health. But when you have late term chronic Lyme disease, you aren’t so lucky. We have to try almost everything to find something that works. Sometimes this means traveling to doctors on the other side of the continent, maybe even the world. Or trying new cutting edge treatment options that are pricey and paid for out of pocket. This is a bit of a nightmare for us, as we already have the huge burden of failing health to carry, and don’t need the added stress of coming up with enough money to get better.

5) If you want to help your friend, or loved one, offer to host a bake sale or fundraiser to help raise money for their treatments, or just be there to listen and love on them. It will probably mean more to them than you know. Company, even if it’s not much, is extremely appreciated with someone that is dealing with Lyme.

6) Be your friend or loved one’s cheerleader! Keep them persevering and don’t let them give up! We need all the support we can get!

[swiftkick404]

Expedient Appendix (II)

Be What You Be

(i/iv)

o o o

we could be old and cold and dead on the scene

o o o

The base was built under and into a mountain and had about it at all times the mired scent of mushrooms.

Karin preferred to stay in the labs rather than the cells because at least then she had the reprieve of chemicals to cover the otherwise moulded and stale air that aggrieved both her senses of smell and taste. The labs also kept her from having to listen to the moaning and pleas of the prisoners (and while she was indebted to Orochimaru, she didn't always appreciate the man's means to his research). The subjects that made it to the labs were not usually live specimens and therefore much easier for what remained of her morals to ignore.

However, with Orochimaru's apparent death, Karin had found more and more she was feeling unnerved. She didn't have any reason to be scared because Orochimaru was dead; she was scared because with Orochimaru dead, Kabuto was the one in charge of Otogakure and all its operations.

Well, Karin liked to think she was still in charge of her lab and her cells and the wellbeing of the people...prisoners inside. She made sure to act like she was the boss whenever anyone had the mind to bother her – maybe especially when that anyone happened to be Kabuto. The day he saw the truth of her fear of him would be the day she died.

And she wasn't dying anytime soon. She had the base to run, after all.

Karin leaned back from the tissue sample she was observing to rub where her glasses had stuck into her nose. Her pencil and notepad were across the lab at a different station and she glared at their faraway spot from over her hand. She repeated on a whisper the time to start of deterioration as she went to retrieve her records.

She didn't know whose cells she was looking at, but slide after slide told of their eventual downfall to a strand of invasive foreign material. The takeover of the foreign material was similar to Juugo's cells and the Curse Mark Orochimaru used, but different, too. It wasn't a chakra-induced metamorphosis – but the manner of the takeover made her think of her former leader.

Karin paused in her writing as a noise from outside the lab doors caught her attention; the sound of rushing movement and then, preceding a slamming entrance, “Karin!”

She lifted an eyebrow as she stood up to see Suigetsu storming his way over to a metal gurney. He deposited the body he had slung over his shoulders there and Karin felt a twitch at her brow. Suddenly agitated as she sprung from her seat, she heard her voice rise a few notes in annoyance.

“What the fuck–  I told you not to bring the live ones here! They go to the med bay – damn it–” Karin cut herself off to stop at a faucet to get a pan of cold water. “You're so impossible...”

“Like hell this one is gonna pull through.” Suigetsu waved away her complaint as she joined him at the gurney. He sneered. “See, now you got your fresh samples for harvesting right here.”

“I'm not harvesting them, you toe-sucker.” And then, watching the gurney man's shivering and spasms ease away, and knowing what that entailed, she snapped, “set up the preservation seals...”

Karin found a mask for her face, covered her eyes, and snapped on a pair of gloves. She tossed the same precautions to Suigetsu, who seemed to find the protective layers novel.

She didn't like Suigetsu – he was a tireless antagonizer – but at least he could, on the rare occasion, break the dull monotony of her work; there was less time for the tempting depressing reflections she tended to pursue when alone if Suigetsu was around and making a general mess of everything.

Making a sharp slap with the hem of his gloves, he said of the preservation seals, “I'm not your slag assistant. Do it yourself.”

“Why rush in here – ugh – never mind. Just. Get out of my way if you're not going to be useful.”

“It is the you-know-what though, right?” Suigetsu barely moved enough to let her work, and hovered over her shoulder to ask redundant questions. “You even figure out what's doing this?”

“It's some sort of ...infectious...disease, obviously,” Karin muttered, trying to look too busy to speak as she took various readings and live-tissue samples from wherever her hands could get to fast enough.

“They got a name for it, you know,” he said, meeting her detached tone with smugness, “since you can't be bothered to identify it.”

She huffed, glared at him although she was focused on the body...patient. He hadn't quite lost the battle yet, even if at this point she was unconcerned with treatment or minimizing pain, she just needed to save information.

“They're calling it, the ague,” Suigetsu told her.

Karin rolled her eyes. She found the hysteria behind the recent deaths overplayed and unimpressive. “Yes, I've heard. How creative.”

“What? It's fitting.”

“It's just adding fuel to the whole thing. It's becoming a thing. Otogakure has more important issues to consider right now. And instead we have people worrying about a – mostly contained – fever.”

Well. It worried her, too, but she didn't want Suigetsu to know as much. She really needed a team to understand how this thing was spreading, more about its lifespan, incubation, early symptoms, earlier means of diagnosis...not to mention, how to cure those who were sick from it.

Shit, Karin was in over her head.

As she worried internally, Suigetsu had moved to the other side of the man. He spider-walked a hand up the man's arm to come to a stop at his slack jaw. Moving the man's mouth without any concern for decorum or possibly infecting himself, he taunted her, “come on, Karin, guy might make it if you let him take a little nibble... Um, nom, nom.”

“Stop that,” she hissed and slapped Suigetsu's intruding hand away. “He's suffering enough as it is to have to put up with your bullshit.”

She wasn't going to risk her own neck for a slight possibility anyhow. Healing damage from brawls was one thing, but a biological matter... Karin wasn't as comfortable offering her own skin for that sort of healing; not when she could be exposing herself to something her body might be incapable of thwarting.

For the moment, she had tenable control over her body and she was going to keep it that way. She just had to get answers and a resolution before anyone learned of the recent incidents and thought to use her as a mobile treatment center again.

Karin breathed through a flinching shudder in her muscles but her company still caught the tell of weakness.

“Ah, so she is scared? I knew it.” Suigetsu 'tsked' at her. She was almost grateful when he misinterpreted her thoughts. Still smug, “you thinking this is something contrived? Some sort of ninjutsu and that's why you're hesitating to lend the man some skin.”

Karin spared him a glance, surprised at his deduction. He wasn't wrong – she had thought of something like that.

“Oh – fuck – he's gone.” Suigetsu said, dropping his smirk as the man heaved a last small breath and expired. “Eugh, gross. I'm not sticking around for when, you know, he starts leaking everywhere. When I die, it'll be nice and clean. Just a little wave of water and I'll be good. None of this...oozing shit from everywhere. Nah-uh.”

“When you die, huh. Have a time in mind? I'd be happy to assist,” Karin said, returning the boy's sneer.

“Yeah, I'm sure,” was his teasing reply and she was disappointed by the lack of reaction. Despite his announced intention to leave, he hung around as Karin continued her tasks, almost as if he felt obligated to make pithy and sharp comments about her occasional fumbling.

The motions were still unusual for her and she had to keep checking that she was doing the right things – saving the right things. She was a sensor and a kunoichi, and only newly a scientist. Any healing she had done in the past had been of a different variety – taking apart corpses and sealing organs was still unfamiliar to her.

“I mean,” Suigetsu started as Karin made a face over an incision she intended to use to crack open the chest cavity, “if it is ninjutsu of some kind...the ague...then that means we're under attack. You reckon it's another village or an inside job?”

“Don't make such a stupid accusation. No one here is going to start any shit.”

Suigetsu exaggerated a thoughtful expression. “Maybe not when the big guy'd still been around. But now? People start getting ideas. Start thinking it's time to move up. Stretch their limbs.”

“Or it's an outside attack – perhaps because of people like you who have no sense of loyalty spouting off about insurrection.” Karin was maybe a little too eager in cracking open the ribs. “Not that any of this speculation matters since I don't know if this really is an orchestrated series of attacks. It could just be a new disease in the area. Something brought in from somewhere else.”

Too many unanswered questions and Karin didn't even know if she were asking all the right ones.

She didn't even know why the ninja had died. She didn't know if others in the country had been sick with the same thing, had died as well but without her knowledge.

“So if it is an attack,” Suigetsu went on, too curious to be easily dissuaded, “why this sort of angle?”

She sort of agreed, murmured, “kunai would have done the job just as well.”

“Like I said – someone is stretching their limbs.” He punctuated his thoughts with picking up an arm and then dropping it back to the gurney for a cold, short clap.

“You're just hoping for someone interesting to come around now that you’re friendless.” Karin didn't have to say, 'Sasuke is gone and you're clearly bored,' much clearer than that. But saying that name aloud was still too sore for her.

“Like I'd miss that sour frown shitface,” Suigetsu insisted, a touch too defensively. Then, wagging a finger between them mischievously, “besides, we're friends.”

“No.”

“A little.”

“Definitely not.”

Karin didn't like Suigetsu. And yet...hours later, after the body had been taken apart, drained, scratched at, pinched, tugged, and all manner of things, she remembered she still much preferred him to Kabuto.

When Kabuto strolled into the lab, back from a mission to the West-Northwest territories and rough from travel, he announced his arrival by dropping a second body on the recently cleaned gurney, and she almost missed Suigetsu.

The second body was still a person, really, because she was alive and even mostly conscious. Her eyes were quick to scan the room, Karin included, and catalogue her surroundings.

Kabuto didn't seem concerned. He greeted Karin very politely, leisurely placing himself next to the blood she was separating. He couldn't quite manage the charm to his voice that Orochimaru had mastered, but the imitation was clear if not entirely purposeful. “Clear one of our special tanks, will you, Karin? I would like to learn a little more about our guest.”

Glancing at the woman, Karin asked, casually as she could, “is she...sick or something?”

She really didn't need any more victims ofThe Ague showing up in her lab that night – both to save her from the mess and also an explanation for the unusual cases.

Kabuto gave her a sly, shallow sort of smile. “Quite the opposite, I should think. I do expect she will be staying with us for...an indeterminate, but extensive stay.”

Karin nodded, relieved and suddenly not very keen on the woman.

“She really is quite interesting,” Kabuto went on, taking a moment to look back at his haul. The woman didn't respond to him in any way and didn't appear to even understand his words.

Karin leaned back in her seat and thought there wasn't anything grand to say about the tiny, gagged and bound person. The woman was petite, older, pale all around, and looked more like a corpse than a proper person if not for her flickering gaze. Raising an eyebrow to Kabuto, she shrugged a shoulder.

“You must be seeing something I'm missing,” she quipped.

“I am,” Kabuto said, reserved in his glee but there was a certain excited shine to his eyes. “You should look a little more closely at our friend.”

Frowning, bothered by his insistence but reluctant to blatantly disobey him, Karin dragged her feet to join him as he returned to the gurney. As she neared the woman, taking in details more properly, her mouth opened in surprise.

“What the...” Karin hovered a hand over the lines of scars covering the woman, feeling their depth and thickness with awe. And then, to be sure, she checked the woman's pulse; it was steady and constant. Not a puppet with rolling eyes. Aghast, “she's really alive...”

“An exquisite specimen, truly.”

The woman could have been the man Karin had earlier cut open and sawn into bits if only stitched all back together again and somehow brought back to life.

“Who is she?” She asked, voice soft with honest wonder.

“Yet to be determined,” Kabuto filled in, very helpfully.

“Where did she come from –”

Kabuto patted her head as she spoke, effectively cutting her off, and Karin resisted the instinctive need to shrink away that quickly drowned out her awe. “Ah, ah. Tank first, inquiries second, Karin. You're help is so greatly appreciated...”

Orochimaru had saved Karin and had taught her how to fight, how to access her full array of powers. She owed her life. Karin had no such feelings for Kabuto, but she did feel a ghost of loyalty to him out of respect for the esteem Orochimaru must have held for the man. Esteem or ...something like that.

She inched out from under his palm and gave him a bland, forced smile of acquiescence. “Of course, sir. I'll have that ready for your guest” –rather, most certainly subject– “immediately.”

“Thank you, Karin.”

She held her breath and her tongue all the way from the room, but her mind was a tangle of wonder and hope and, like shadows haunting the flame, fear.

o o o

continued in part (ii/iv)

Author’s Note:  I’m still working on my portrayals of Kabuto, Karin, Suigetsu. I’ve never written them before! Also they all had more development at the point and after I stopped reading the manga, so my understanding of them is limited.

I think Karin and Suigetsu clearly have a tolerance for awful things, as most in the Naruto world should, but I think each would be happy to pursue lives outside of Orochimaru’s experimentations..... Kabuto, on the other hand, is a straight up Villain for me without any sense of morals, ethics, or respect to anything outside his own endeavors. I read him and am choosing to portray him as ultimately self-serving. 

[anything-advice-blog]

Time sensitive* Part1/4 ive been going through a hard time recently. a few weeks ago my bf broke up with me out of no where, and my friends who were sort of friends with him while we were together have been chilling with him and posting pictures with him even though he was very rude to me, and it honestly seems like they are happy about it.

Part 2/4 Ive been feeling this way before all of that happened anyways though. i am just overall pretty unhappy. I have fully lost my appetite and only eat whats equivelent to one meal a day. i have dropped about 5lbs in just the past 3-4 weeks. Also, im consitantly tired and get more than 11-12 hours of sleep a day usually and never have a motivation to leave my bed.

Part 3/4 I was diognosed with a anixiety disorder about 3 years ago and since then have not had panic attacks since until now. i get them usually every 2-3 days which consists of me crying and my hands going fully numb and me feeling like i am crazy. i know im not suicidal, but i have also think about death and dying a lot lately too.

Part4/4 i dont want to worry my parents and dont know how to ask to go back to therapy, though i have asked to go to doctor becuase of my appetite loss and tiredness. i also dont want them to think i am like this becuase of a breakup, but i know this started a while before then. i basically just need help on what to do and understand whats wrong with me especially with finals coming up.-SS

4 Part submission_______________________________________________________

Hello love!

It seems you’ve beenthrough hell and back, and good on you for coping.

Let’s start with yourfriends and your ex-boyfriend. First of all, I would definitely try to talk tothem about it. They may not be fully aware of the emotional toll on youespecially with everything that is piling up on you. Try to set up a time whereyou and your friends can hang out and you can either wait until both partiesseemed relaxed and bring up the topic, or you can just start right off thatbat, so that they are aware of the situation. Tell them about how he was rudeand how you were hurt because they didn’t seem to support you by postingpictures with him. They may have unintentionally hurt you, but if you know theyare posting the photos with intention, it may be time to leave that friendshipand find a new group.

It’s ok to say “I don’tknow”. So many people in this world think they are expected to say yes or no insituations they have no idea to handle, and it’s the same for you. Give sometime for you and your body to recuperate from the impact of life. Find sometimefor yourself and learn to love your quirks and flaws again. Even if the worldis against you, there will always be people there to love you and admire you.So in order for you to find your confidence again, rediscover what it’s like tobe happy again. Take long walks if you need to clear your head, eat somethingyou really love, buy that really sick game or pair of shoes you’ve wanted for along time. Treat yourself. You deserve it.

As for eating, no onecan force you to eat if you really can’t. It was like that for me. So slowlylearn to enjoy food again. Try to take a small bites of something and inexchange, tell yourself that your body needs the nourishment and if you eatmore it’ll help you cope. Try to start with foods that are easy to chew and godown well, such as porridge or yogurt. If you really can’t, take more vitaminsand drink lots of water. As for sleep, if you oversleep, it actually makes youlethargic. Try to limit your sleeping to 7-8 hours to be at your optimal state.Find good ways to start the morning, such as a nice shower, making yourselflook different for each day for fun, and eating heathy to jumpstart a good day.

It’s not a good thing tohave thoughts of death of dying so try to keep yourself positive and busy.Instead of thinking at a negative side of the situation try to think on thepositive side. I’ll give you an example. If say, you find yourself thinkingabout how hurt you are about your friends, on the positive side of that, isthinking that you’ve now learned that it’s not a good feeling and you won’t dothat to someone else in the future or your future friends. By having negativesituations, you can learn through them and make you grow as a person. Try toconstantly move around and get fresh air if you feel an attack coming on. Try tocount backwards from 100 in groups of 13 (I know weird number but it’ll helpyou focus on numbers more than the situation at hand). Definitely try to talkabout this to a trusted friend, parent or professional because keeping this inwill only get harder.

Finally, please talk toa trusted professional. It could be a school counselor, or psychologist, andthere are free clinics that provide confidentiality forms to check if you haveany symptoms of depression or if your anxiety is recurring and in need ofprescription. Our home page also has a link that provides various hotlines,helplines and chat sites if you need anyone to talk to at any given moment.Please also remember that your parents wouldn’t want your to be unhappy inanything. If you tell them, yes it will worry them, but why is that bad? You’llhave 2 amazing people beside you and will support you throughout your crisis!Anything you need they’ll give and provide because you are their beloved son/daughterand being together is what’s most important. No one wants to see you upsetdarling, because you shouldn’t have to feel as if you’ve been backed to a corner. You always have the power of choice.

Sending you lots of loveand kisses,

~Ella  ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ