#and she recognized them because my older sibling had been diagnosed with the same thing a few months before me

[primrosebitch]

I don't think healthy people realize how for chronically ill people getting a diagnosis isn't sad or even disappointing for us, it's a relief and a vindication. So many people with chronic illnesses take many years to get diagnosed, and are told that 'it's just anxiety/your period/psychological' or that we're exaggerating or that everyone experiences that, so for us getting a diagnosis is being told that we weren't faking it and that this wasn't normal and it's also finally knowing what exactly is going on in our bodies.

I think many healthy people think of it as if it were them being told they have this lifelong debilitating illness, and they would feel awful because they are going from perfectly healthy to disabled, but they don't fully realize that we already have all the symptoms and impacts of said chronic illness and that we are just finally finding out the name, and that knowing what it is means that we have access to more treatments and more knowledge as to what we can to do alleviate our symptoms.

[outrunningthedark]

maddie keep saying “they’re not bad people, just bad parents” because she wasn't the one being abused and neglected by them and her lack of empathy makes her incapable to feel Buck's pain.

Even though this sounds like an attempt to attack Maddie's character, I understand your perspective and am going to (try to) expand on it. People need to remember that the abuse and neglect of Maddie and Buck started when Daniel got sick and eventually died. - There's an... 8 year age gap between Maddie and Buck, right? Daniel was first diagnosed with leukemia when Maddie was five and he was four. Maddie no doubt has happy memories of her family prior to the diagnosis. Buck has... none. - When Daniel died, Maddie would have been around nine years old, while Buck was only one. Maddie was old enough to recognize the negative ways in which her brother's death impacted the Buckley family dynamic, hence downplaying the idea that they are "bad people." They weren't ALWAYS bad people. Not to her. Not to Daniel. ("They were grieving. I think they still are.") - Regardless of what happened with Doug, Maddie's age gave her the advantage of being able to walk away from a toxic home environment, leaving Buck to deal with his parents alone for several years (and he, too, got the hell out of there when he had the chance). I relate this detail A LOT, because my older sister did/does the same thing. While I am the target of my mother's outbursts because we share the same space, my sister has her own life and the option to remove herself from uncomfortable situations. (Sometimes she won't even answer the phone because she knows how quickly the conversation can turn.) - The bottom line is, Maddie wasn't the one who was conceived for the sole purpose of being a savior sibling. It's not her fault, but she is never going to fully understand how her parents quickly resented Buck after Daniel died, nor will she be able to understand how it must feel to realize your parents never really wanted you in the first place. **This is not an anti-Maddie post. I am simply offering a more complex opinion, one that goes beyond "she's talking like a typical victim of abuse.**

[volvolts]

trying again. im gonna talk about my ocs. its pretty long and kinda incoherent idk

first start with robin

idk how to make the picture smaller so im sorry

- her name is robin wright and she’s 17

BACKSTORY

- her mom is a cyberneticist and her dad is a neurosurgeon. they do research on cyborg’s disease and have a company that makes prosthetics. they’re really rich because if it

- robin also had a twin brother named ronan (she’s the younger twin btw). he died when they were 15 because he had a rare case of cyborg’s disease in the brain. his death was so traumatizing for her that she doesn’t remember the months surrounding his death. she doesn’t even remember the funeral

- after ronan’s death, robin’s parents put her into isolation for two years. they pulled her out of her classes and activities and she barely got human interactions during this time

- eventually she had enough and begged to be allowed out which they do--as long as she has a bodyguard with her at all times. the problem? robin had a hard time getting along with most of them. in fact, ryuji is kind of a last resort. if she doesn’t get on well with him, she’ll most likely be isolated until further notice

random facts

- she���s really smart, a natural genius you could say. she was on her third year in college before she was pulled from it (she’s studying to be a neurosurgeon like her father). she’s one of those organized highlighter/color coded note takers too

- robin is a very compassionate person and is compelled to help others as much as she can. 

- stubborn and determined, she’ll pursue nearly everything and won’t back down until she has answers. sometimes she doesn’t know when to stop and accidentally oversteps her boundaries. it’s not because she’s needlessly nosy but because she wants to know the whole story before she can help them

- she has a overactive imagination and would end up thinking up outlandish ideas to fill in the blanks of things she doesn’t know

- robin is one of those people who’s polite and reserved if she doesn’t know you but will talk your ear off when she’s comfortable with you

- she closer with her father, which is why she’s studying the same subject that he works in

- both of her parents are incredibly successful and she’s expected to do something similar so she has a lot on her shoulders

- she hasn’t worked a day in her life but she has unusually strong endurance and stamina

- she has a dog! he’s a golden retriever and his name is beck. he’s an old dog and she loves him very much 

next is ryuji

- his name is ryuji lor and he’s 22

- he also goes by��“ryder” (technically he’s supposed to go by that throughout most of my half-baked story because he never told anyone is real name but that’s beside the point)

- he’s a quarter japanese and three quarters se asian (not really sure what kind yet but im thinking somewhere within the vietnam/laos area)

BACKSTORY 

- a bit of TW: FAMILY ABUSE in this passage so skip if it bothers you:  his mom got pregnant with him while she was in college and because her boyfriend bailed on her and stress of the pregnancy and burnout she dropped out and went back to her family. she was seen as “the good one” of the family and was expected to get a good job to get her family out of poverty however when she came back they were incredibly bitter that she “failed” and would verbally and emotionally put her down. They also blamed ryuji because if he wasn’t born then she wouldn’t have dropped out and he was often ostracized because of it. 

- fortunately he and his mom left when he turned 5. they lived in a small apartment and had to get lots of help from neighbors and friends to make ends meet (mostly to babysit ryuji while his mom worked). ryuji vowed to get smart and get a good job to give his mother the life she deserves (and partly because he feels a part of her really does hate him and he wants to make it up to her somehow because if he doesn’t, was he just a parasite like what his aunts and uncles said?)

- when he turned 10, his mom got married and how he has two moms. they’re hard on him but it’s from a place of love so he tries his best to be a good son by studying and staying out of trouble

- at 17, ryuji has a bit of hope ahead of him. he has a part time job, good grades, and maybe a scholarship if he could qualify. suddenly he’s diagnosed with cyborg’s disease in his eyes and arm. they can’t afford either of his surgeries, let alone one. and that’s not going into the prosthetics and rehab afterwards. at night when they think he’s asleep, ryuji hears his moms arguing about how they’ll be able to afford any of it and what they’ll have to do to pay for it. 

- he can’t take it anymore. he runs away

- he ends up in a city he doesn’t recognize and is just allowing himself to die but he gets saved by irving, a back alley repair doctor. he gets prosthetics thanks to her but is now in a massive debt so he works as her assistant and also finds other jobs on the side to repay it

- his backstory is getting really long so things happen in ryuji’s attempt to make money and he ends up also working with ace, who leads an organized crime group, as a handler whose job is to fight/intimidate/kill whoever. 

- a sudden coincidence also ends up working as robin’s bodyguard which starts everything. honestly he’s didn’t want to do this job at first but robin’s parents are willing to pay a good amount of money and it allows him to have time away from his jobs with ace

random facts

- he’s left hand but learned to be ambidextrous, however he’ll usually default to his left hand

- he wore glasses when he was younger (near sighted; it was super bad but he didn’t like it)

- he’s afraid of dogs. it’s not a full on phobia but they make him uneasy because of a childhood thing. (he’s more of a cat person and maybe pets a few stray cats that come across his house every once in a while)

- he doesn’t like people staring at him. he feels self-conscious because of the scar on his face and the shadowed bags under his eyes and people staring at him don’t help

- ryuji is really good with prosthetics repair and can go into in-depth discussions about the mechanics of it all; he actually really enjoys working on it and actually helped design his own arm

- he’s really smart but he had to work really hard to get there and because he never finished his education, he doesn’t really think he is either

- ryuji tries to give off a “i don’t care about anyone” bravado to try and distance himself from everything. but he really cares. like a lot. the few people he has in his life right now, he’s ride or die for them

- ryuji works himself to death to ignore his problems. he’s afraid if he stops moving, he’ll buckle under the pressure and stop forever

- he has a knife hidden in his prosthetic forearm which he will use if he feels threatened. (it’s probably a stiletto knife or something idk yet)

- ryuji is an early riser; waking up at 9 am feels like sleeping in to him. he’s not even that much of a morning person, its mostly out of habit

then there’s castor

- his name is castor oda and he’s 24

- he’s japanese

BACKSTORY

- he lived in a really strict and controlling family who owned a business where he had his entire life planned out for him up to who he was going to marry. he’s always been angry about it because he has older siblings who will take over the company and it’s clear that more of a control and image thing than anything else

- when he went to college, it was his first time actually be away from his family and became friends with a guy named ben. 

- ben helped castor when his family kicked him out at 19 and gave him a place to stay until he could get back on his feet

- castor loved ben like a brother and is forever grateful for him

- ben mysteriously disappeared when they were 21 and everyone is pretty sure he’s dead but no one knows why

- castor wants to find closure on what happened because he’s definitely sure there’s something shady going on and he’s going to find out what.

- he’s an information broker, occasionally crossing paths with ace to relay and gather info but for the most part, castor has been working alone

- when he’s not doing that though, he works as a barista at a coffee shop

random facts

- he has cyborg’s disease in his right arm and when he lived with his family, he was deeply self-conscious about it

- he hasn’t spoken to his parents since they kicked him out but he still talks to his siblings sometimes; he’s the youngest child with two older sisters

- he always had an inkling that ben had romantic feelings for him, which was unrequited, and castor always felt a little guilty that he never reciprocated or that they never got to talk about it

- castor always wears his red scarf no matter the occasion or weather; he has more scarves but he just likes the red one the best

- people think he’s like calm and collected but in reality he’s an impulsive, emotional driven idiot just like the rest of us

- however he is the master of the polite business smile because of his strict upbringing

- he’s a rather disorganized person

next is irving

- her name is ellie irving and she’s 35

- she’s half black, half white

BACKSTORY 

- i don’t have that much solidified for her backstory yet so it might change fyi

- irving had been doing cybernetic research back in college but someone plagiarized her work and submitted their paper before she came forward

- because the paper was published before she published hers, SHE was initially hit with backlash of plagiarism

- eventually they try to sort it out but in the end, while she proved she didn’t plagiarize the other, she couldn’t prove that she came up with the research first and they just terminated the both her and the plagiarist

- she was barred from going into higher cybernetics research and honestly she’s still a bit bitter about it

- she went into prosthetics repair instead but still struggled to find work because of her alleged reputation, which many still believed she stole another’s work

- eventually she manages to open up a shop that specializes in prosthetic repairs and replacements

random facts

- she’s really harsh and aloof, however she cares in her own way

- honestly irving doesn’t believe herself to be a good person due to how she feels she let herself to bitterly sulk in her anger for so long

- she smokes a bit but she’s trying to cut back lately

- irving won’t pry if you come to her with a broken arm and you need help; she’ll fix you up and leave it at that and allow you to come to her yourself

- she’s incredibly observant and can tell if your lying with just a glance

- she doesn’t know that ryuji works for ace; she’s concerned when he seems more tired than usual but she doesn’t know how to pry

last one cuz im tired

his name is ace (i don’t have a last name for him) and he’s 32

- he owns an organized crime ring; im thinking he’s connected to something bigger and possibly something with the black market

- not much is known about him but he’s a charismatic man and has the intimidation factor 

- he flips his demeanor a lot. one minute he’s jovial and kind then the next he’ll give you thinly veil threats. he mostly does it to keep people on their toes so it’s a power thing

- begrudgingly he’s the closest thing to a father figure ryuji is gonna get

- also the jacket ryuji always wears? it’s a gift from ace

and that’s all i got so far! i have a lot more ocs but i don’t have have a lot of backstory for them yet. let me know what you think of these guys and feel free to ask questions!

[littlelieshq]

hey my loyal readers, ALISE here, your one and only source of gosan’s finest. aren’t you curious about what i have in store for you today? don’t lie, of course you are! well, today’s highlight happens to be the only and only SEOK MOONBIN. the seok moonbin? yes, that’s right, him. you know him, don’t you? TWENTY-THREE, SENIOR AT GOSAN U? no? well—i don’t blame you if you don’t, if you’ve seen one gosaner, you’ve seen them all. but this one, he’s a little special—not everyone’s ashamed of the fact that their sibling is currently in prison, actively denies/hides their existence, after all.

                                          interested? well why wouldn’t you be?

                                                lucky for you i always deliver.

( TW UNDERAGE DRINKING AND DRUG USE, VIOLENCE, ANXIETY, DEPRESSION AND PANIC ATTACKS )

moonbin was born in busan in the 16th of may of 2003, to a very loving family who were so excited to be having their first baby, after trying for so long to have a child. his mother’s odds of getting pregnant were really low, and when she finally did, it was a very risky pregnancy, so it was a miracle that moonbin was born healthy.

just a year later, their family was extended by one with the birth of his younger brother, who had a few more complications at birth than moonbin himself, but he still joined their little family and made their parents extra happy.the four of them kept living in busan until moonbin turned five, which was when his father got a promotion and they all moved to seoul, with the promise of a better quality of life over there.

moonbin and his brother, jaesung, being only one year apart from each other, basically did everything together. it was like they were twin brothers, always doing the same things, getting the same toys and wearing the same clothes. up until they went to high school, they were even in the same class at elementary school. his mother purposefully wanted them to stay together because they refused to leave each other’s side ever since they were babies, so it felt unnatural to separate them.

even if they had lots of similarities, both moonbin and jaesung still had some differences, like how jaesung had always been smarter and moonbin was way artsier — it was quite obvious that their parents would prefer them to be more studious and actually get a high-paying job in the future, so whenever moonbin mentioned how much he liked art, they preferred to ignore it for their own sake. moonbin and jaesung would always wake up together in their shared room, get ready to go to school together, be by each other’s side the entire day, and when they got home they’d eat together, play together, do homework together (moonbin would always get jaesung’s help), etc. they were inseparable, which is why moonbin wouldn’t be able to explain what happened then.

when they finally went to high school, they were placed in different classrooms, much to each other’s dismay. moonbin remembered crying to his mother with a teary-eyed jaesung by his side, because they wanted to keep studying together, just like they’ve always done! it was easy and something they were used to, so why change it now?

unfortunately, the school did nothing about it and they just had to accept the fact that now, after so many years, they’d finally be separated. it was hard getting used to it at first, but eventually they started drifting away from each other a little. spending less and less time together, moonbin wasn’t too sure when jaesung started sounding cold towards him even inside their own home. it was something that hurt the older immensely, having his own brother treat him like that.

their parents took a little longer to realize that things were weird in between them, but that was because moonbin refused to say anything. he hoped things would go back to normal over a vacation, but jaesung asked their parents if a friend of his could tag along to their trip and moonbin was pushed to the sidelines, just watching as his brother and best friend ignored him in favor of paying attention to his new friend. poor little 15-year-old moonbin was so confused, wondering what he had done to deserve his brother neglecting him like that, but after having a long conversation with his mother, he decided to move on from how dependent he’s always been on jaesung. it was hard, but little by little moonbin was making it.

it was clear how jaesung’s behavior was being influenced by the wrong crowd of people, just from taking a quick look at his group of friends at school. moonbin didn’t like to be the one prejudging people by how they looked, but jaesung had turned into a whole different person. throughout the rest of high school, moonbin lost count of how many parties jaesung went to instead of studying for a test the next day, how many times he failed those, so different from the person he used to be. he was smoking and drinking even from a really young age, and doing god knows what else. moonbin was terrified every time jaesung slipped in through their window at 5 in the morning, reeking of alcohol and telling him to be quiet so their parents wouldn’t hear. moonbin never told them anything, but he didn’t think they were completely ignorant to his younger son’s doings.

moonbin still didn’t do very well at his tests because studying things like physics and chemistry just wasn’t for him, and it was even harder to get excellent grades when his brother wouldn’t help him anymore. it was fine, though. he at least was smart enough to finish high school in time, differently from jaesung, who got held back a few years.

when their parents finally sat down with jaesung to talk about how worried they were for him, the younger didn’t listen. in fact, he got fixated with the idea that everyone in that house hated him and moonbin could only listen from their room to the desperate way jae shouted words at their parents and cried, later finding out he had had a panic attack.

of course, their parents proceeded to try to do everything they could to help him, but jaesung was only going to the therapy sessions for the sake of it, because having actually been diagnosed with both depression and anxiety apparently meant nothing to him. he still lived his life the same way he used to, careless and recklessly. moonbin once again was pushed to the sidelines, what with their parents struggling to help jaesung out with his problems, moonbin had to take up several part-time jobs to be able to save enough money to not depend on his parents’ money.

it took a while, but on the year he was accepted into college and was so happy he’d finally get to follow his dreams (hopefully easily enough), his family received the news that his brother had been locked up along with his two closest friends, for getting too drunk and attacking a guy at a party and then the officer that came to separate them, bagging him a sentence of over ten years in prison (with a fine that had their parents in a cold sweat). it was a shock for all of them, and moonbin felt sad and angry that his brother would ever do something like that, because he had changed for the worse.

when people started recognizing moonbin as the brother of the guy who was now a prisoner, he felt ashamed and embarrassed, and ended up being glad that he was moving away soon for college, mindless of what his family would think. this time around he didn’t want to get pushed to the sidelines, and even less so wanted to be put under the spotlight or criticized for something that he hadn’t even done. he’d do anything to get that burden off of his own shoulders, even if it meant lying about even having a brother in the first place.

in gosan, he could finally detach himself from the image of his brother and the terrible person that he was and create a personality that was uniquely his and no one else’s. finally, he would be his own person, even if he had to cut off all ties with the rest of his family. he didn’t need them anyway.

[altphilcmena]

『NATALIA DYER ❙ DEMI GIRL』 ⟿ looks like PHILOMENA CARMICHAEL is here for HER/THEIR SOPHOMORE year as a WILDLIFE SCIENCE student. SHE/THEY are 19 years old & known to be WHIMSICAL, PATIENT, APATHETIC & UNPREDICTABLE. They’re living in NOLAND, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ JAMES. 20. EST. SHE/THEY.

hllo this is a slightly older bt not tht old like. minus a year old muse of mine tht i thought wld fit rly well into this group n i hope u guys all love her bc i love her a lot !!! anyways pls drop a LIKE if u wld like to plot because i need to know. who to plot with. there’s so many people pleathe help me out HBSJDNKFMGLH

TW CANCER, TRAUMA, DEPERSONALIZATION / DEREALIZATION DISORDER ( ALT. MENTAL ILLNESS ), DEATH, DECAY, MAGGOTS.

aesthetic.

wildflowers in your hair and bare feet against moss, binoculars and maps, madonna beating out of half-dead speakers in a half-dead van, whipping wind, jumping off cliffs and rolling down hills, a bandaid wrapped around each finger, cryptic bumper stickers and cryptids in the woods, facing the sun and letting the rays hit you, counting stars late into the night, dancing naked in the woods with nothing but fire to light your way, mismatched socks and lucky ribbons, hoarding a box of special treasures, shoplifting and diner-dashing, bleach against roots, pink sweaters paired with ripped fishnets and slip dresses with knock off uggs, willingly wearing crocs, glitter stickers, fungi and feeling one with them, lying down and decomposing, they’ll find us in a week. they’ll find us in a week.

basic info.

full name: philomena brontë carmichael

nickname(s): philly, phil, mena, etc.

b.o.d. - april 20th lmao !!

label(s): the amaranth, the halycon, the neophyte, the wanderer, etc. etc.

height: 5′4″

hometown: woodside, ca

sexuality: ??? $500 ebay mystery box. pansexual if you had to label it.

pinterest ( & her family pinterest b/c they’re my most developed family uwu)

stats

inspired by: luna lovegood (harry potter), orla mccool (derry girls), cassie ainsworth (skins), alice (alice’s adventures in wonderland), amelie (amelie).

biography.

a middle child belonging to christopher and imogen carmichael - two stanford professors. christopher specialized in british literature whilst imogen specialized in the classics. hence the name.

the order of siblings goes as such: lysander, elektra, juno, philomena, and twins orion & valora. the deal was that everybody had a greek (or in juno’s case, roman) first name and a middle name inspired by a piece of british literature circa 1800s and under. a family of nerds, if you will.

so, clearly - right off the bat, their parents are … eccentric. they’re both in love with their respected topic, and with each other, and with their kids. the carmichael family is a happy family.

they each have their own quirks and whatnot - though philly’s always been particularly dreamy - even as a child, she’d spend hours watching clouds or caterpillars or the leaves blow in the wind rather than play with other kids. she wasn’t a shy kid - she just had her own interests.

hardship doesn’t hit the family until philomena is five and starts having splitting headaches. they’re slow at first - but as soon as she’s seeing spots and unable to walk in a straight line, doctor appointments are made.

it doesn’t take long for them to discover the tumor, though the official diagnosis of malignant ependymoma comes a month later.

it’s grade ii but slow-moving, small enough to not be as much of a threat as worried, but big enough where removal is necessary. philomena earns a scar and brings it in for show-and-tell. for two months afterwards, philly’s at radiotherapy monday through friday.

they’re lucky - philomena’s considered cancer-free by the next year. she’s babied at first - handled delicately, as if she could break if touched - but with five other children … it doesn’t last for too long.

and life continues as normal.

her personality doesn’t shift much over the next few years - she’s awfully independent for a kid, and awfully quiet - when she speaks it’s about faeries and bigfoot, about how the sky is so blue and if you listen quietly, you can hear the leaves whisper their secrets to each other. this is not odd.

she’s close to all her siblings, but she idolizes her older sister - elektra. elektra’s six years older and dyes her hair whatever colors she wants. elektra bought a knife off a seedy guy downtown. elektra threw away all of her heels and renounced god. elektra is god. her music is loud but it’s not heavy - it’s florence and the machine.

they’re opposites - elektra’s boisterous and feels loudly, philomena’s softer and feels…less. when elektra sneaks out, philomena keeps watch. they are a duo.

philomena is smart - but she’s fifteen and hates school. hates sitting inside all day. hates the same routine - day after day - it’s all the same. her parents’ routine is the same, philly feels contained and she wants to live.

elektra’s twenty-one and just bought a brand new spanking (used but not falling apart) 19-something volkswagen … van - using her entire savings account. she says she’s tired of routine, she’s leaving the next day.

naturally, philomena stows away in the back and isn’t discovered until they’re two states away and she’s got to pee. elektra nearly crashes the van in shock.

it’s an argument - philomena vs. elektra, then them vs. their parents, then their parents vs. the school, the state - it’s an ordeal. philomena switches to an online program in the end.

it hurts christopher and imogen - lysander’s not having any of their nonsense, juno’s betrayed and alone - the twins are twins. in the end, it’s alright. the carmichael family is a happy family.

philomena and elektra take their time - it’s not a road trip, it’s their new life, permanently on the road. they stop and explore often - they do odd jobs in whatever town they settle in. they dine-n-dash, they shoplift. they survive in their own way.

during particularly desperate times, they two resorted to identity theft & credit fraud - getting away with it only by ditching the cards once they’ve made it out of state.

she drops out of high school officially when she’s seventeen - they have to drive all the way back to california to deal with the wrath of their parents and to deal with paperwork, but it’s done. philomena doesn’t know what path she wants in life - but it’s not that.

it’s during this time that the episodes occur - philomena’s outside her body, philomena’s wrapped in cotton, her memories are not her own. she’s looking in the mirror and she doesn’t recognize herself. they take shelter in a city for six months, long enough for her brand spankin’ new therapist to figure out what’s wrong with her. she’s diagnosed with depersonalization / derealization disorder - they think it’s stress. philomena doesn’t get stressed. they think it’s trauma. she laughs - she never laughs.

there is trauma though, deep-rooted but somewhere inside - you just have to look for it.

you. just. have. to. look. for. it. look for it. look for it. look for it look for it look -

you were ten and she was thirteen, an off-trail hike in familiar woods in a familiar town, safe and familiar. it was your idea, to stray from the carved out paths, down creeks and up hills and round, and round again. you’re the one who spotted the scarf first, sticking up from the dirt and dancing in the wind like the beginning of reincarnation. it was not reincarnation, it was discovery. it was ruin. with curiosity drawn, you skidded down - with compliance, followed juno, followed your sister - clumsy in her steps and tumbling down quicker than you. you saw the corpse, but juno felt it. decaying flesh and maggot.

and she left juno, just like that - just five years later, when juno had finally gone to the end of her wits. philly up and left. abandoned her. 

philomena and elektra leave the city after that therapy session. they do not return. she’s always been good at hiding her secrets.

three years later and her parents want philly to have a higher education - desperate for it, really - worried for her future. it’s a battle that she loses, getting her GED and applying to a local college in florida in shameful compliance.

they’re there for a year until philly gets (expectantly) expelled from the community college & the two of them are banned from the town they’d residing in up until that point. they don’t talk about it - but boy, was it one hell of a time.

they found refuge in lovell, a town that seemed to suit them well - it suited elektra’s desire to travel up and down the east coast, and it intrigued philomena enough to the point of her being content with staying. soon after, philly officially transferred to radcliffe for the fall semester & they’ve been here since!

personality.

she’s quiet but she’s confident - her voice sounds like rustling leaves, if leaves smoked a pack of cigarettes a day.

often underestimated - philly’s petite and looks like she’d fall over if a plastic bag blew too close to her. she’s independent - for the most part. elektra is the only person philly takes orders from.

has always been considered odd - weird, strange. still talks about the trees as if they’re listening, as if they’re old friends. she’s vague and doesn’t elaborate on the things she says.

believes in pretty much any superstition you throw her way. luck is very important to her. if you ask her if the earth is flat, she’ll say probably. believes strongly in bigfoot and the lochness monster. has personally seen aliens, and loves ghosts almost more than herself.

she can be amusing - whether you ‘get’ her or not, her outlook is often bright - she talks about the negatives the same way she talks about the positives. can be seen as naive or gullible, but she’s plenty smart. even if half of her education has come directly from google.

philly doesn’t laugh. a smile, yes - often, in fact - not always reaching her ears, or bearing teeth - but these are not indicators of her happiness. philly is consistently content. she thinks many things are funny - she still will not laugh.

her voice is often monotonous - she doesn’t sound dreary, she sounds far-away. her voice carries. her emotions are often unknown to others.

is apathetic in most situations. she’s hard to bother - she’s incredibly patient and enjoys the company of most - tolerates them at the very least. it’s hard for her to express her emotions, because she feels them so little that it’s very nearly not worth it. her affection is not verbal - it’s small touches and gestures of kindness, love in her own way.

is a fan of knock-knock jokes and bad puns. she won’t crack a smile while telling you them, nor does she expect you to laugh. she just enjoys them.

she owns a motorola razr covered in puffy stickers - hasn’t ever had a smartphone. she’s a fan of emoticons. her favorite is :o)

has a lot of bruises and scratches and scars - she’s often getting herself into pickles. there are always, at the very minimum, three bandaids on each hand.

she has insomnia, so she’s awake often. is often seen wandering town - even when she shouldn’t be, even when it might be dangerous. her intuition is delayed. when she does sleep - her dreams are vivid and fantastical.

keeps a box of memories - sentimental bits and pieces she’s picked up over the last few years. there are a lot of buttons and postcards, but any teeny tiny object will do.

her style changes every week - most, if not all, of her clothes are thrifted. one week she’s baby spice and the next she’s lydia deetz. she combines pieces from different styles often - she looks like a barbie clothed by a child. she feels most comfortable like this.

will either patch-up the clothes that get too worn or reuse them in some way. sometimes donates the clothes she gets tired off - isn’t minimalistic, but she’s learned to keep only a small amount of possessions.

the only consistency is her lucky ribbon - it’s pastel yellow and silky and as thin as a shoelace. she ties it onto her outfit of the day, everyday. if she loses it, she’s lost. elektra has a matching ribbon.

has no problem with minor theft - she only takes bare minimum, puts herself and elektra first and that’s how it’s always been. she tries to be good while in lovell / radcliffe - would hate to be forced out by mobs with torches and pitchforks

currently living in noland while elektra stays in their van, florence - sometimes philly stays there during the weekends.

they used to live in motels on the occasion, the cheapest room, and more often than not they’d both go home with strangers for a comfier bed and a hotter shower.

it was a common occurrence - she didn’t sleep with them - but somehow, she weaseled her way into their homes anyway. has come out mostly unscathed, on most occasions. this has been a practice ever since they’ve been on the road.

really, truly - has not slept with anybody, had her first and only kiss at thirteen with a frog. this doesn’t bother her.

will consume a n y t h i n g you put in front of her - isn’t picky.

listens to whatever they’ve picked up along the way but she likes instrumentals the best. her second favorite genre is 1990′s and 2000′s top hits. they’re nostalgic for her. third favorites? florence, of course. fleetwood mac. the bird and the bee. 

loves storms - will go out in the rain and will risk her life for it.

owns a pair of roller-skates and is often skating rather than walking. unless she’s on grass - then she’s walking barefoot.

has many hobbies, and gets bored of them often. her favorite hobby is welding. she’s not certified.

also, juggling.

also, accordion.

the kind of girl who’ll do any job you give her. odd jobs are her favorite jobs. babysitting is her least favorite - but she does it anyway. has lost children before. have they ever been found? not by philly.

dyes her hair blonde often and cuts her own hair - bangs included - finds it cathartic, likes the itchiness of bleach.

everything she does is often in pursuit of feeling free, alive, and meaningful.

( like her frequent visits to the woods, late at night when the moon is high and full. it’s freeing to dance around a fire, stark naked in the cold. builds immunity )

comes and goes wherever she pleases, nothing & nobody can stop her (besides elektra). has befriended the campus witch, or as much as the witch will allow, and shrike as well. she knows to respect nature, and abandoned sites - she’s practically free to explore as she wishes, her only pride is the trust she’s gained.

the trust expands to animals as well, she has a certain knack for getting them to like her. has too many ‘pet’ rats that reside with her, alongside a baby raccoon & a few crow pals. has a new animal companion everyday, but she doesn’t contain them or force them to stay.

leaves her window in noland wide open because of this, because her window is conveniently right besides a tree with sturdy branches. good for animal smuggling, sneaking in and out, hiding, etc. etc. world is her oyster.

though her room in noland is ??? frankly a mess ??? already ??? usually keeps most of her possessions in her memory box but she’s also turned her room into a mini labyrinth of knick-knacks. very cozy, but very nest-like. think of howl’s room from howl’s moving castle. 

wanted connections.

random encounters... it’s only her second semester at radcliffe, she hasn’t met everybody yet i’m sure

random encounters...in the wild... alternately, people she’s met before in a different part of the country. whether she’s stolen from them or crashed at their place, or simply shared a dinner. anything goes!

unexpected sleepover... someone whose place she crashed at after a mysterious night. a party, adventure, etc. etc. maybe they don’t even remember her staying over, maybe she hadn’t been with them to begin with.

employers... she does a lot of odd jobs! knows how to make a lot of things in many different mediums just to earn a small living.

friends... y’know ... people who enjoy her presence, likes her oddness. they may not understand her, but they appreciate her. or maybe they do understand her, in their own way!

not friends... philly doesn’t consider anybody an enemy in the slightest, but some people may not be fond of her ... think she’s a little too strange, or they refuse to understand her, or something of the likes.

closing in... someone trying to get closer to her, trying to figure her out on a level deeper than what she would like, and she keeps slipping out from between their fingers every time.

mom friend mom friend mom friend... older sibling figures! dad friends! take one look at philly and instantly want to swaddle n protect her.

caught red handed... someone catches her stealing or about to dine-n-dash. do they care? who knows!

late-night shenanigans... they just walk and talk at night ... very relaxing ... not actually very shenanigans filled...

a dealer... because she wasn’t born on 4/20 for nothing. she’s not turning 20 on 4/20/20 fr nothing. don’t fail us.

debating conspiracies... or superstitions, really anything. maybe they’re frustrated at her apathy surrounding all situations.

no likey... :( they distrust her. probably fr good reason tho ... i don’t blame you

thrifting pals... no explanation needed methinks

an eventual hook-up... maybe ... possibly ... it’s questionable, but it could happen! can’t stay a virgin forever! (or well. she cld. we’ll see!) she’d probably have to trust yr muse a lot though

unrequited romance uwu... probably unrequited on her end because she doesn’t usually think of anybody in a romantic sense - it’s possible, but you’d have to be something special for her to like you back. that being said ...

something returned... eventually, slowly. slow. it’ll take time.

maybe something returned !! eventually. slowly. slow.

n like rly anything u want !! anything u can think of i am here 2 fulfill ... we can brainstorm all sorts of wacky scenarios!! she’s a thief! she’s an accordion player! she dances naked in the woods! she’s been in the circus AND a small utah county jail! 

[philcmenabadadink]

cisfemale — ever hear people say PHILOMENA CARMICHAEL looks a lot like NATALIA DYER? I think SHE is about 19, so it doesn’t really work. The FREELANCER is here because THEIR VAN BROKE DOWN and they are from WOODSIDE, CA. They can be WHIMSICAL, but they can also be APATHETIC. I think PHILLY might be N/A. ( snot goblin. 20. est. she/they. )

hi hello friends ,,, i bring to u my third character and the Newest Muse i have created ... which means i’m still working on her ! so pleathe bare w/ me as i have no idea how she’ll rly truly turn out. but !! as always, give this a LIKE and i’ll come bother u !!!

TW: CANCER, IMPLIED TRAUMA, DEPERSONALIZATION / DEREALIZATION DISORDER ( ALT. MENTAL HEALTH )

a e s t h e t i c s

wildflowers in your hair and bare feet against moss, binoculars and maps, madonna beating out of half-dead speakers in a half-dead van, whipping wind, jumping off cliffs and rolling down hills, a bandaid wrapped around each finger, cryptic bumper stickers and cryptids in the woods, facing the sun and letting the rays hit you, counting stars late into the night, mismatched socks and lucky ribbons, hoarding a box of special treasures, shoplifting and diner-dashing, bleach against roots, pink sweaters paired with ripped fishnets and slip dresses with knock off uggs, willingly wearing crocs, glitter stickers.

general info !!

full name: philomena brontë carmichael

nickname(s): philly, phil, mena, etc.

b.o.d. - april 20th lmao !!

label(s): the amaranth, the halycon, the neophyte, the wanderer, etc. etc.

height: 5′4″

hometown: woodside, ca

sexuality: ??? $500 ebay mystery box. pansexual if you had to label it.

pinterest

stats

biography !!

a middle child belonging to christopher and imogen carmichael - two stanford professors. christopher specialized in british literature whilst imogen specialized in the classics. hence the name.

the order of siblings goes as such: lysander, elektra, juno, philomena, and twins orion & valora. the deal was that everybody had a greek (or in juno’s case, roman) first name and a middle name inspired by a piece of british literature circa 1800s and under. a family of nerds, if you will.

so, clearly - right off the bat, their parents are ... eccentric. they’re both in love with their respected topic, and with each other, and with their kids. the carmichael family is a happy family.

they each have their own quirks and whatnot - though philly’s always been particularly dreamy - even as a child, she’d spend hours watching clouds or caterpillars or the leaves blow in the wind rather than play with other kids. she wasn’t a shy kid - she just had her own interests.

hardship doesn’t hit the family until philomena is five and starts having splitting headaches. they’re slow at first - but as soon as she’s seeing spots and unable to walk in a straight line, doctor appointments are made.

it doesn’t take long for them to discover the tumor, though the official diagnosis of malignant ependymoma comes a month later.

it’s grade ii but slow-moving, small enough to not be as much of a threat as worried, but big enough where removal is necessary. philomena earns a scar and brings it in for show-and-tell. for two months afterwards, philly’s at radiotherapy monday through friday.

they’re lucky - philomena’s considered cancer-free by the next year. she’s babied at first - handled delicately, as if she could break if touched - but with five other children ... it doesn’t last for too long.

and life continues as normal.

her personality doesn’t shift much over the next few years - she’s awfully independent for a kid, and awfully quiet - when she speaks it’s about faeries and bigfoot, about how the sky is so blue and if you listen quietly, you can hear the leaves whisper their secrets to each other. this is not odd.

she’s close to all her siblings, but she idolizes her older sister - elektra. elektra’s six years older and dyes her hair whatever colors she wants. elektra bought a knife off a seedy guy downtown. elektra threw away all of her heels and renounced god. elektra is god. her music is loud but it’s not heavy - it’s florence and the machine.

they’re opposites - elektra’s boisterous and feels loudly, philomena’s softer and feels...less. when elektra sneaks out, philomena keeps watch. they are a duo.

philomena is smart - but she’s fifteen and hates school. hates sitting inside all day. hates the same routine - day after day - it’s all the same. her parents’ routine is the same, philly feels contained and she wants to live.

elektra’s twenty-one and just bought a brand new spanking (used but not falling apart) 19-something volkswagen ... van - using her entire savings account. she says she’s tired of routine, she’s leaving the next day.

naturally, philomena stows away in the back and isn’t discovered until they’re two states away and she’s got to pee. elektra nearly crashes the van in shock.

it’s an argument - philomena vs. elektra, then them vs. their parents, then their parents vs. the school, the state - it’s an ordeal. philomena switches to an online program in the end.

it hurts christopher and imogen - lysander’s not having any of their nonsense, juno’s betrayed and alone - the twins are twins. in the end, it’s alright. the carmichael family is a happy family.

philomena and elektra take their time - it’s not a road trip, it’s their new life, permanently on the road. they stop and explore often - they do odd jobs in whatever town they settle in. they dine-n-dash, they shoplift. they survive in their own way. 

she drops out of high school officially when she’s seventeen - they have to drive all the way back to california to deal with the wrath of their parents and to deal with paperwork, but it’s done. philomena doesn’t know what path she wants in life - but it’s not that.

it’s during this time that the episodes occur - philomena’s outside her body, philomena’s wrapped in cotton, her memories are not her own. she’s looking in the mirror and she doesn’t recognize herself. they take shelter in a city for six months, long enough for her brand spankin’ new therapist to figure out what’s wrong with her. she’s diagnosed with depersonalization / derealization disorder - they think it’s stress. philomena doesn’t get stressed. they think it’s trauma. she laughs - she never laughs.

she gets medication, and life is normal.

it’s four years later and they’re in vermont when their good ol’ trusty van - affectionately named florence - breaks down in a town called livingstone. the cost is more than they have at the moment, and they’re stuck. philomena thinks she likes the town - but she doesn’t know about the watershed. 

personality !!

she’s quiet but she’s confident - her voice sounds like rustling leaves, if leaves smoked a pack of cigarettes a day.

often underestimated - philly’s petite and looks like she’d fall over if a plastic bag blew too close to her. she’s independent - for the most part. elektra is the only person philly takes orders from.

has always been considered odd - weird, strange. still talks about the trees as if they’re listening, as if they’re old friends. she’s vague and doesn’t elaborate on the things she says.

believes in pretty much any superstition you throw her way. luck is very important to her. if you ask her if the earth is flat, she’ll say probably. believes strongly in bigfoot and the lochness monster. has personally seen aliens, and loves ghosts almost more than herself.

she can be amusing - whether you ‘get’ her or not, her outlook is often bright - she talks about the negatives the same way she talks about the positives. can be seen as naive or gullible, but she’s plenty smart. even if half of her education has come directly from google.

philly doesn’t laugh. a smile, yes - often, in fact - not always reaching her ears, or bearing teeth - but these are not indicators of her happiness. philly is consistently content. she thinks many things are funny - she still will not laugh.

her voice is often monotonous - she doesn’t sound dreary, she sounds far-away. her voice carries. her emotions are often unknown to others.

is apathetic in most situations. she’s hard to bother - she’s incredibly patient and enjoys the company of most - tolerates them at the very least. it’s hard for her to express her emotions, because she feels them so little that it’s very nearly not worth it. her affection is not verbal - it’s small touches and gestures of kindness, love in her own way.

is a fan of knock-knock jokes and bad puns. she won’t crack a smile while telling you them, nor does she expect you to laugh. she just enjoys them.

she owns a motorola razr covered in puffy stickers - hasn’t ever had a smartphone. she’s a fan of emoticons. her favorite is :o)

has a lot of bruises and scratches and scars - she’s often getting herself into pickles. there are always, at the very minimum, three bandaids on each hand.

she has insomnia, so she’s awake often. is often seen wandering town - even when she shouldn’t be, even when it might be dangerous. her intuition is delayed. when she does sleep - her dreams are vivid and fantastical.

keeps a box of memories - sentimental bits and pieces she’s picked up over the last few years. there are a lot of buttons and postcards, but any teeny tiny object will do.

her style changes every week - most, if not all, of her clothes are thrifted. one week she’s baby spice and the next she’s lydia deetz. she combines pieces from different styles often - she looks like a barbie clothed by a child. she feels most comfortable like this.

will either patch-up the clothes that get too worn or reuse them in some way. sometimes donates the clothes she gets tired off - isn’t minimalistic, but she’s learned to keep only a small amount of possessions.

the only consistency is her lucky ribbon - it’s pastel yellow and silky and as thin as a shoelace. she ties it onto her outfit of the day, everyday. if she loses it, she’s lost. elektra has a matching ribbon.

has no problem with minor theft - she only takes bare minimum, puts herself and elektra first and that’s how it’s always been. she tries to be good while in livingstone - would hate to make enemies whilst florence is getting repaired.

they’re staying in a motel, currently, in the cheapest room they could get. philly will still visit florence. will sometimes go home with strangers purely to take advantage of a comfortable bed and a shower with better pressure.

it’s a common occurrence - she doesn’t sleep with them - but somehow, she weasels her way into their homes anyway. has come out mostly unscathed, on most occasions. this has been a practice ever since they’ve been on the road.

really, truly - has not slept with anybody, had her first and only kiss at thirteen with a frog. this doesn’t bother her. 

will consume a n y t h i n g you put in front of her - isn’t picky.

listens to whatever they’ve picked up along the way but she likes instrumentals the best. her second favorite genre is 1990′s and 2000′s top hits. they’re nostalgic for her.

loves storms - will go out in the rain and will risk her life for it.

owns a pair of roller-skates and is often skating rather than walking. unless she’s on grass - then she’s walking barefoot.

has many hobbies, and gets bored of them often. her favorite hobby is welding. she’s not certified.

also, juggles.

the kind of girl who’ll do any job you give her. odd jobs are her favorite jobs. babysitting is her least favorite - but she does it anyway. has lost children before. have they ever been found? not by philly.

dyes her hair blonde often and cuts her own hair - bangs included - finds it cathartic, likes the itchiness of bleach.

everything she does is often in pursuit of feeling free, alive, and meaningful.

wanted connections !!

random encounters - she’s new in town and doesn’t know many people - if anybody at all, so :-)

alternately, people she’s run into with elektra during their journey. whether they’ve stolen from them or stayed with them somewhere or just, ate dinner with them. anything.

someone whose couch she’s crashed on after a night of whatever - a party, adventure, etc.

people she does jobs for !! people who commission her to make stuff for them. people who need a babysitter.

people who think she’s weird - and those who like it. or those who hate it. people who don’t understand her - people who do, in their own way.

someone trying to get closer to her but she keeps slipping out from between their fingers.

a parental / older sibling figure !! they take one look at philomena and instantly want to swaddle and protect her.

people who take an immediate liking to her. people who introduce her to the music scene. people who show her around town.

someone who catches her stealing or about to dine-n-dash.

late-night walking pals.

a dealer b/c weed ? a thing.

someone who gets into a debate with her about conspiracies or superstitions or anything !! someone who gets frustrated at her apathy.

somebody who just immediately distrusts her for whatever reason.

??? you don’t have a smartphone ??? cue someone trying to teach her how they work - and philly hating it !!

thrifting pals.

m a y b e a hook-up, eventually, but it’s questionable.

something unrequited, likely on their end b/c philly is ... a hard egg to crack.

maybe something returned !! eventually. slowly. slow.

god ... someone she just tells her entire life story to. like this meme. 

i’m rly down to brainstorm and think of anything !!! dnt forget 2 leave a like :)

[aflowerinthecosmos]

Lexapro: One Year Later

I’ve been to therapy at two different points in my life. The first time was as a teenager during my parents divorce and the most recent one following my PTSD diagnosis at age 20. Each time was very different than the other. When I was a teenager I was forced to go to family therapy with my parents and siblings due to a court order. Having an audience and varying personalities made it counter-productive. I couldn’t share my feelings. The most recent attempt was the first time I sought help voluntarily. I met with a psychiatrist and therapist to develop a program that could help me cope with PTSD. The medication I was prescribed made me nauseous and I felt more on edge than ever. I soon became paranoid that it would cause me to have suicidal ideations and I quickly stopped taking them. I wasn’t too fond of my therapist either, which I believe is crucial to your recovery. At this point in my life, I had little to no coping or communication skills. I wasn’t taught how to deal with things. I didn’t even know how to begin. I stopped going to therapy and I spiraled, hard and fast. I had a mental breakdown at work. I called my older sister who thankfully came to get me. I felt like PTSD took over my life and I let it. My job at the time only exasperated my symptoms, so I quit and ran to the easiest, non-demanding job I could find. At the same time I researched PTSD and how to treat it. I put in a lot of effort to build coping and communication skills on my own. Practiced whenever possible. I got hobbies. Filled my time with reading self help books. For a couple years, this was enough for me to start feeling comfortable with my own mind again. I could never shake off the feeling that I wasn’t fully me anymore. I had changed. PTSD does that to you. I was diagnosed with PTSD in August of 2014. Reflecting back I had been exhibiting symptoms since late 2012.

In 2017 I started to feel off again. My birthday was coming up, and for many years I hated my birthday but never understood why I did. It was until I realized that my birthday was a trigger. Probably my strongest one because it was neither a place or person that I could avoid. I tried unsuccessfully to find a therapist. I couldn’t find anyone that was accepting new patients or accepted my insurance. The harder I tried and failed to find professional help, the more it negatively affected me. I confided in a loved one that I was spiraling again. Their reaction was the exact worse case scenario anyone with a mental health issue fears when talking to someone about it. I went over the edge and attempted that night. After my trigger had come and gone, I felt like I was on the up tick again. A new fear loomed over me now. What if I end up spiraling again? The coming year I did better, but triggers are triggers for a reason. 

2018 ended in the worst ways imaginable. I decided to end my stable life that I had created in the past 4 years and begin a new. I could feel myself ripping at the seams. It was a turning point for me. I had this moment of clarity in the midst of chaos, I can either let myself break and spiral out of control or I can go to therapy again before this gets any worse. I decided on the latter.

I loved my new therapist. I loved my new psychiatrist. I felt understood. I felt heard. I felt supported. I started taking Lexapro on December 22, 2018. My talk therapy helped immensely, but I wholeheartedly believe it was Lexapro that saved me. For a while I thought I had a grip on my symptoms and rarely noticed them anymore. I told my psychiatrist that perhaps I just had anxiety because I no longer have my normal symptoms. I sat there for an hour trying to convince this professional that I had anxiety not PTSD. I’m not always the brightest bulb. At the end of our conversation she hit me with what was the hardest reality I’ve ever swallowed. Surprise, surprise I still had PTSD. If anything it was getting worse, my symptoms changed which is why I no longer recognized them. I wanted to run out that office to cry, or scream, maybe both. I think she recognized this on my face. She was sweet. In her softest motherly voice, she told me that I should start seeing this as a long term illness and I may have to be medicated for the rest of my life. I hurt myself by thinking this was something that I could “cure” like a cold or flu. 

I was afraid in the beginning as to how this would affect my life, my relationships, and my job. DId I have to disclose this information to them? At what point when I start new friendships, or a new relationship for that matter do I tell them I have PTSD? Would they see me as crazy because I required medication to be a functioning human? The stigma around mental health issues and medication weighed on me. I kept my medication a secret for a long time. I only told a select few in my inner circle. I focused on healing in private. 

I was surprised by how much I enjoyed Lexapro. In the beginning I had some annoying side effects that I could live with in the grand scheme of things. I grinded my teeth in my sleep and I was drowsier than usual. I bought a mouth guard and slept a little more. I started off with 5mg for the first month. I started to notice a difference within the first two weeks. I no longer had sweaty palms, I no longer felt a constant sense of anxiety. It was more sporadic now. I was grateful for the moments of calm. After the first month was over, I moved up to 10mg for another month, then went up to 20mg. Going from 10mg to 20mg was the hardest transition. I felt so drowsy and my teeth grinding was incessant. I started to fall asleep during meetings, in the middle of conversations, and the most horrifying, driving. I quickly emailed my psych and we brought me back down to 15mg. The side effects quickly improved. I stayed on 15mg for another two months before trying 20mg again. This time my body handled it nicely like it had the other increases. 20mg is where I’ve been ever since. 

It’s been almost a year that I’ve been on Lexapro. I feel like the person I was before PTSD took over my life. I’m the me I always knew I was underneath the mental health issues. A lot of my personality has changed. Some personality quirks I’ve come to know these last couple of years have all but vanished. I never realized that these quirks were symptoms of PTSD that I passed off as my personality. It probably helped me cope that way. Some of my quirks were being jumpy, non-confrontational, socially awkward, and shy. Since I was a child I have always been a confident, unafraid, social butterfly that demanded attention. I’m a Leo after all. I’ve also become less emotional. This is something new for me as I’d always been known as a cry baby or sensitive. It has its advantages and disadvantages. I don’t display emotions as much as  I normally used to. It doesn’t mean I’m incapable of feeling, there’s just not always a corresponding external reaction like before. I’m more sure of myself than ever. I trust myself. This is something I never realized I lacked. The biggest positive impact Lexapro has had for me has been the kindness I’ve been able to feel for myself. I’m no longer so self critical of myself. I accept my flaws and my shortcomings. I don’t beat myself up. The same understanding and support I gave others I now give to myself. My self esteem has flourished. I could go on and on about all the things I’m grateful for since deciding to try medication again. But, the biggest take away is that I’m finally free. 

[spacelion-loveshermulletson]

Rules: Write ten facts about yourself and then tag ten of your followers you want to get to know better. Tagged by @pikaruchi

1. I am diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome. I got diagnosed when I was around the age of 4-5, but my parents didn’t tell me I had that diagnosis until I was around 14 years old. Knowing what I was diagnosed with helped me a lot since I had felt alienated from my classmates for years and often got confused when hanging out with others, so being able to look up what it could mean, see what I felt fit with me and what I could do to make things easier for me in my everyday life helped me adapt a lot. (I still get confused at times if people don’t explain things in certain details)

2. I’m not really into make-up. At all. I tried using it some time during my teenage years since my older sisters had it, but never really felt like I was being myself with it on and I stopped using it after a while. I can use it if I’m at a birthday party with my friends or maybe on Christmas, but no more than that. 

3. I live with my dad and he is and has been one of my closest friends ever since I was a kid. I love my mom and I have a great relationship with her, but I can’t really see myself living together with her.

4. I have a dog who has been with me since I was 9 years old and I absolutely love him! And he loves me! He is the most adorable little(he’s actually rather big) guy in the world and he runs to me as soon as I get home and wants to cuddle. We both love the outdoors and go on long walks together. I absolutely adore him.

5. I have four siblings. Three older and one younger. My oldest sister has a different mom than me, but we share the same dad. My oldest brother and second oldest sister has a different dad, but we share the same mom. My younger brother and I share the same mom and dad. My younger brother live together with my dad, our dog and me. My older brother live together with his wife and has two kids. My oldest sister lives together with her girlfriend-now-turned-fiancee and they are expecting their first child (excited squeel). My second oldest sister lives together with her boyfriend and is expecting her second child.

6. I adore Disney. and Dreamworks. I am making it my mission to find all of my favorite Disney and Dreamworks movies throughout the years on DVD and save them until I get my own children in the future.

7. I am allergic to peanuts. I hate it. Lucky enough, I can be in the same room as someone who is eating peanuts without problem (the scent still makes me uneasy though), but I never eat them and make sure to wash my hands whenever I’ve come in close contact with them.

8. I have a best friend who is like a sister to me and we call each other “Onee-san” and “Imoutou-chan”. I love her so much and I feel for her as I would a real sister. She is one of the most precious people in my life.

9. I am currentlu working in a small store in my hometown and I enjoy it a lot. Though I am planning on working with LSS. It means that I would be working with people who also have different kind of diagnosis. I was never really understood in my childhood and I had a hard time with people so if I can work with and help and make someone feel better then I would be truly happy.

10. Growing up I always assumed that I would date and marry a guy because all I ever saw was male/female couples, both in my family and in media. I didn’t even know you could like someone of the same gender until I was around 12-13. I mean, that wasn’t even considered a possibility for me during that time, so I was really confused. Not in a negative “it’s wrong” way, no, it simply had never crossed my mind since it wasn’t something anyone had ever brought up. i literally didn’t know it was a possibility. Then when I got older I also heard about bisexuality, pansexuality, asexuality, etc. The older I got the more I realized that I was different from most of my friends when it came to relationships and sexual desires. While they talked about what they found attractive or what they did with their boyfriends, I just never found anything about that interesting and I could never bring anything to those conversations(well, I’ve only dated once and I never did anything and it didn’t last long anyway soooo). When my friends asked me what I liked or what I thought I was I couldn’t come up with anything. It was one of my closer friends I got during my teenage years that brought up the possibility of me being asexual. She herself is ace and she recognized a lot of herself in my confusion and insecurity. We bonded a lot over that and was each others ally when other people claimed asexuality to not exist. I do believe that I am ace, but I don’t really have anything against the thought of doing sexual activities with a future partner. It’s something I’ll see in time if I ever end up with anyone.

  @alcath-era @formjawblade @sparkling-garbage @justklance @briskboo @form-vol-tron @gerald-the-deraild-gay @lucys-starry-eyes @n-trace @drarryismylife101

[little-freyja]

Home

Title: Home Word Count: 1714 Paring: Lawstien About: Danny has returned to Vancouver to help take care of her family, however she gets a little homesick and longs to return to Austria to be with her girlfriend, Carmilla AO3 Link

My bones are safe and my heart can rest Knowing it belongs to you My world is changed and it's cradled by The comfort that is you Oh my love, My head is reeling and I am running out of air I need to breathe in

Danny stood in front of the stove in her childhood home, absent-mindedly stirring the tomato sauce. She had only been home in Vancouver for a little over a week, but it felt like it had been an eternity. Usually, she loved coming home to hang out with her brother and the twins. But she didn't want to be home under these conditions. Danny swallowed a little as she replayed the memory of why she had to be here so suddenly.

A week and a half ago, while getting ready for a morning run, Danny got the dreaded phone call. At the moment she didn't think much of it, besides the fact that it was nearly eleven at night and her mother should be asleep.

Needless to say, Danny didn't go on her run that morning. She sat there in the edge of the couch, on the verge of a break down, yet so numb. It wasn't until Carmilla, her girlfriend, emerged from the bedroom, asking her what was wrong. When Carmilla placed her hands on Danny's cheek, her face full of worry, asking her repeatedly, that a wail ripped from Danny's throat and the tears fell from her eyes.

Her younger brother, Benny, was in the hospital.

She spent the rest of that day, with Carmilla by her side, as she helped Danny put a suitcase together.

Danny let out a soft sigh. And there was another reason why it felt like she had been home for far too long. She missed Carmilla. Carmilla had to stay in Austria with Fenrir, their husky. Her parents could only afford to fly Danny home, so she could help take care of her siblings.

Danny longed to be back in her tiny apartment. She yearned to be in bed with Carmilla: the vampire curled up against her, her head on her chest as she listened to Danny's steady heartbeat, with Carmilla’s arm securely around her waist and Fenrir across their feet. Her heart ached for the nonchaotic familiarity. But she knew that was selfish to want that at this moment. Her family needed her, she needed to be there for Benny, and she was going to stay as long as she had to. It was her duty to help them and care for her siblings, even if she felt like crumbling under the weight of the responsibility. It made her wish for the simpler days of defending the Silas campus from monsters.

At least monsters were easy. One could physically hurt them and release frustrations onto them. But Danny was helpless against the sickness that coursed through Benny’s body. She couldn't punch, stake, or burn the illness that was slowly killing her brother.

A light tug on the back of her shirt was enough to make Danny jump. She turned around to see the much too tall for her age, Katie. She stared blankly down at her, almost not registering who she was until she spoke.

“Danny, when are we going to eat?” She asked, her voice low and her eyes pleading, as if it would make the food appear faster. Danny flashed her sister a quick smile and reached forward to ruffle her bright red hair, a common trait in the Lawrence family.

“It's almost ready now, why don't you go set the table.” She suggested. Katie gave her a small nod and reached for the plates. Danny fet a pain in her heart when she started to pull out six plates.

“Honey, it's only you, Charlie, and me tonight. Mom and Dad are still out with Benny.” Danny tells her. She watched as her sister stopped and turned to her. The confused and broken hearted face of her nine year old sister was almost enough to make Danny cry. Almost.

“Why aren't they coming home?” She asked in a quiet voice. Danny freezes in a panic. Anxiety constricts her throat and she feels the nausea hitting her hard. How was she suppose to explain to her baby sister that her older brother had been diagnosed with late stage Lukemia? Why did it have to fall on her to tell her that Benny was probably not going to make it to his seventeenth birthday. How did anyone expect her to be faced with a situation like that, let alone know exactly how to handle it.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to put on a brave face.

“Because Benny is really sick and Mom and Dad are there to make sure he's okay. I came home to make sure you 'n Charlie stay out of trouble.” She said, a soft smile playing at her lips as she gently nudged Katie. Her sister returned the smile, but it quickly fades.

“Is Benny going to be okay?” She asked. Danny cursed Zeus for making children so talkative. She adored her baby sister, but even she had her limits. Danny opened her mouth to stutter out some pathetic excuse, only when a loud bang from the living room interrupts her. She thanked Hera that she didn't have to continue this conversation with Katie.

“Charlie, what in Olympia are you doing?”

“Nothing!” He replied, all too quickly. Danny turned off the burner and moved the pot to the back of the stove, before going to investigate.

Upon entering the living room, she noticed that the bookshelf was overturned and contents had been spilt everywhere. Her eyes flicked up to Charlie, who was wrestling a book out of their scruffy mutt, Bear’s mouth. Danny sighed and turned the bookcase upright. Charlie successful rescued the book from their dog and tried to gather as many of them up as he could.

“How about we just clean them up after dinner, okay?” She said. He looked down at the pile of books, then slowly up to Danny and nodded, fully aware of his guilt. Danny smiled softly and kissed his temple. She couldn't help but chuckle at the way his face screwed up in annoyance, clearly not wanting any affection from his sister.

“Go on, give Bear his dinner and go take your seat.” She told him. He hurried off to the kitchen, Bear right at his heels. Danny sighed and straightened up. Yeah, monsters were much easier to deal with than the twins. She turned to go back to the kitchen, her stomach growling (she couldn't recall the last time she actually ate), when the doorbell rang. Bear, in a barking frenzy, bounded from the kitchen and barreled past Danny, nearly knocking her over.

She quickly regained her balance and her shoulders sag. All she wanted was to finally eat and to be left alone for a while.

“Bear, schweigen!” Danny ordered, her voice stern. He ceased his barking and looked back at her. With a huff he pushed off the window and padded back into the kitchen. Danny sighee and hurried to the door, opening it with a forced smile.

“Evening.” She greeted the postman. He gave her a smile and held out the electronic pad and pen.

“Evening, you just have to sign for a package.” Danny’s brows crease in confusion. She didn't remember her parents saying about expecting a package. But she signed it anyways, took the box from the man and thanked him. Her confusion only grew when she saw that it was addressed to her.

“Danny! We're starving!” Charlie's voice pulled her back to reality and she shook her head.

“Coming, I'm coming!” Danny called back, retreating into the kitchen. She placed the package on the counter. She scooped the spaghetti onto Katie and Charlie's plate and gave them permission to start eating without her.

She took the box and hurried to her room. Danny eased down onto the edge of her bed and made quick work of the tape. She pulled the flaps back to reveal a pair of blue socks with cartoon cats dressed as astronauts, a small black plush cat, and underneath both of them was a folded up blanket that instantly made her feel like she was back in Austria. She also spotted a small card tucked under the cat's paw and picked it up.

The front had a drawing of a cat stretched across someone's keyboard, with the words “You're my favorite person to annoy” written above the picture. A small, smile played at the corner of Danny's lips. She opened the card and instantly recognized the handwriting.

Daniele,

My favorite annoyance. I miss you more than you'll ever know, more than a vampire should miss a human. I long for the day you return home to me. The days drone on, feeling so much longer than they truly are. I can't help but be selfish in wanting you to return home, but the apartment feels empty without you here. I know your family needs you, and you want to be there for your brother. This can't be an easy thing to deal with. This is something, as an immortal, I could never fathom.

I can't wait for you to return, the stars aren't the same without you, nor are walks with Fen (who misses you deeply too). I hope this care pack helps with the stress. I even “gave up custody” of our favorite blanket for you. I made sure to let Fenrir lay on it.

Take care, be safe, and come home soon.

I love you, to the moon and back.

Carmilla

Danny kept staring down at the letter, quickly becoming unable to reread the words between the tears that stung her eyes. She was grinning that dorky grin, the one that Carmilla always said she hated, but secretly adored. Danny knew Carmilla could be a bit of a sap, but she also never expected a gesture of her’s to make her cry. She wiped at her face and gently placed the card down, frantically searching for her phone. Danny had to call Carmilla immediately.

[cookinguptales]

I could probably write a thousand posts about how terrible American cops are wrt disability, and how cops are trained to read disabled behavior as “erratic behavior” that should be addressed with lethal force.

BUT INSTEAD I’M GONNA WRITE ABOUT SIGN LANGUAGE INTERPRETERS.

I mentioned this briefly a little while ago, but I grew up in a pretty abusive household. My younger sister was a little monster, and for a long time, no one would believe me when I tried to tell them she was hurting me. Because she was younger than me. Smaller than me. Deaf. My sister, like many other members of my family, has a hearing disability. (To my knowledge, none of them choose to identify as Deaf and some specifically don’t, so I’m just gonna stick with deaf.) And growing up with a sibling who left me bloody and bruised all the time taught me something important: our society has very few resources for violent PWD.

Now, my sister probably did have a lot of anger in her because of her disability (though that part is probably her story to tell rather than mine) and she did eventually get diagnosed with some sort of mental illness. But deafness doesn’t make a person violent, and mental illness isn’t an excuse for it. Like hell, I’m disabled and mentally ill and I never hit my sister with a metal baseball bat.

What is true, though, is when you have a deaf family member who is violent, there just aren’t as many treatment resources. Therapists who can sign are few on the ground, and therapists who will cooperate with interpreters (and interpreting requests) aren’t as common as they should be. (Plus, therapy with an interpreter really is more difficult for the patient; you never really get to be alone with the doctor.) Many of the treatment centers who help families deal with “troubled children” don’t take deaf patients. Honestly, most treatment options (and believe me, my parents looked and looked and looked) just aren’t available to children with special needs. The ones that are are often too expensive for families to seriously consider.

And cops, as I later learned, don’t bring interpreters.

My sister got worse over time, you see. The baseball bat wasn’t the worst thing she did to me. And when we were young, she mostly focused on me -- but as she got older, I learned how to get out of her path of destruction and she started hurting other people. My parents started calling the police on her to deal with domestic disturbances fairly often. There was a period there where the police were coming to our house every week or two. (Generally because my sister had straight-up tried to kill one of us or something. You know, mild stuff.) It was a pretty small police department. The same damn guys came to our house every time. They knew exactly who we were and what the situation was in our house.

And they never. Brought. An interpreter.

Now here’s what you need to know about sign language interpreters. Legally speaking, they’re supposed to be supplied by the business/service, not the consumer. Often, interpreters will refuse to be hired by an individual consumer because they want to protect the standard set by the ADA that the business/service must supply the interpreter. The school provides the interpreter. The doctor provides the interpreter. The lawyer provides the interpreter. The cops provide the interpreter. Or they’re supposed to!

These cops never did. They never did much to help us, either, but I guess that’s a separate issue. (Or maybe it’s not. Maybe they didn’t want to deal with a deaf kid in the system and that’s why they never took her into custody and wouldn’t let us press charges. She got Baker Acted a few times, like when the cops had to physically restrain her, but that’s about the extent of it.) And here’s the thing. Here’s the big problem with them refusing to bring a goddamn interpreter literally ever. It meant that they ended up asking us to interpret.

Think about that for a second. These cops regularly asked the victims of violent assault (and the people who reported that violent assault) to interpret for the person who assaulted them. It wasn’t fair to us to put us in a room with someone who’d hurt us and was usually still screaming about how she still wanted to. (idk if the cops could always understand her when she talked; I could, but I mean, I grew up with her. They learned to recognize the profanity tho, lmao.) And you know what? As much as I hate her, it wasn’t fair to her, either. We could have lied. We could have framed her. We could have misrepresented her statements as a result of our own trauma. Who’s to know? We certainly weren’t impartial. It’s hard to be after someone puts their hands around your throat. And we were usually crying and stuff. The whole situation was emotionally exhausting. My sister has always been terrifying when she’s angry, and no one likes calling the cops on their own family. Like we were not good interpreters at that point. lol

Now, I’m not gonna say that my sister wouldn’t have grown up to be the violent asshole she was if she’d been able to get proper treatment as a kid. I don’t know that. It’s possible, I guess. I hear she’s doing better now, though now that we’re both adults, I try to limit our interactions. I do know that I would have been hurt a lot less often as a kid if we’d had more treatment options. I would have spent less of my life living in fear, and I’d probably have fewer symptoms of trauma now. If she couldn’t have been cured, maybe she at least could have been contained. (That sounds horrible to say, but you try living with someone trying to kill you for fifteen years. You won’t care where they go as long as it’s away from you.) And honestly, my experience with my sister speaks to a lot of problems we have with our justice system, too. Our justice system just isn’t designed to accommodate people with disabilities and special needs. Cops shoot autistic people and show up to household disputes with no goddamn interpreter. They aren’t trained and they aren’t held accountable, and that puts PWD like us in danger. I can look at this situation as someone who felt disenfranchised as a victim, but also as a person with a disability who might find myself on the other end of police disinterest one day.

Like, look. I have a physical disability and a mental illness. I hate the stereotype of the violent disabled person as much as anyone. But sometimes PWD really are violent, and for all the horror stories we have about ~scary disabled people~, we actually have very few institutional protections in place for when something like that happens. We don’t train cops or hold them to acceptable standards. We don’t have interpreters on staff or fully accessible facilities. We don’t have treatment programs for PWD that might stop the problems before they become too bad. We don’t always have ways for PWD to be heard if they’re being abused -- or if they’re worrying that they might be the abuser. And we have a lot of cultural stereotypes about disability that we need to unpack. God knows I had trouble convincing people that I had a sister who was deaf and violent, and that the two were unrelated.

I don’t talk to my sister anymore, not unless I have to. Most days I kind of try to pretend I’m an only child. I’m not sure I have a single good memory of her from our childhood. Even the peaceful moments were tense; her mood could turn on a dime and I was always scared of a potential blow up. I still kind of am. These days, I wish her all the best in her recovery -- as long as it happens far away from me. My childhood was already ruined. So was hers. I hope we move forward and increase both accessibility and specialty treatment options so other children don’t have the same fate.

[freakishlemon]

I’ve been thinking a lot about the gendering and socialization of work lately with regards to my growing frustrations with my youngest brother, so I’m throwing words at this screen. Might be interesting to you folks, might not, so I’m putting it behind a cut below.

((Read More should start here, mobile users))

So some basic background, I’m the oldest of 4 kids in my family and we live in a rural town that’s been start-stopping it’s way to suburbia sorta kinda maybe, so our upbringing is pretty squarely centered in this little corner of the world. There me (trans-masc genderqueer) born in ‘88, there’s my sister (woman) born in ‘90, middle brother (man) born in ‘92, and the youngest brother (man) born in ‘96. Myself and the middle brother both still live at home, but we are employed and are paying off loans or looking into continuing education, so we’re doing pretty well. My sister has been moved out with her fella and their co-owned pets and she started her own business last year, in addition to subsidizing her income with part-time bar-tending/restaurant gigs when she needs to. All three of us have completed the middle-class white person requirement of earning a Bachelor’s degree (yay debt :/ ).

My youngest brother has a chronic gut illness and had to have surgery on his intestines last December, which prompted him to really think about his college education (that he was failing) and opt to not finish school. I think that was a surprisingly mature decision for this brother. So he takes the time to recover from the surgery and he’s been back to his normal for a while now, so my parents have been prompting him to start seeking employment since about March-ish.

He’s still unemployed, which does not surprise me based on our location/job market/the incredible hell that is Finding A Job, but I find myself and I see my parents becoming more and more frustrated with him.

Now, my parents’ frustration I understand because they’re in their late 50s/60s and they do all those prior generation stereotype things like tell you to make a million follow up calls and go bother the management and just start asking businesses for jobs, which is what they know. The rest of us sympathize with that portion of my brother’s current position, but... it occurred to me that my youngest brother is doing nothing to alleviate this from my parents because he hasn’t learned how to deflect them.

Because he’s looking for his first job.

His. First. Job.

It hit me this morning that the way our society socializes work for afab folks starts so god damn early. If we define a job as Somewhere You Are Scheduled To Be To Perform Work, I started working at 11 at my local library as a volunteer. I outgrew the summer reading program for the young kids and there was nothing for the older kids. I had to be there for my siblings because I was too young to stay home, so I was shelving books or assisting at the Scholastic book fair. Listen, I worked at this library as a volunteer for so long that the retiring children’s librarian had me run the summer reading program for two years, then she retired and there wasn’t a children’s librarian for a year so I ran the summer reading program, AND THEN I TRAINED THE NEW CHILDREN’S LIBRARIAN ON HOW TO RUN A SUMMER READING PROGRAM. It was her first librarian job and I was sixteen. 

My sister started doing the same thing when she aged out of the summer reading program. My brothers didn’t.

But if we count paid work, my sister and I took our first job together at 14 and 12 when we were offered a pretty sweet babysitting gig. We’d finish middle school, walk over to the elementary school down the street to pick up this first grade girl, and hang out at the library doing homework for an hour and a half until the girl’s mom could come pick her up. Three days a week, paid on Thursday like clock work. 

And we both did things like that until we were old enough to be legally hired - babysitting gigs, pet sitting, helping older people with physical tasks (I mean, mostly my grandma just having us doing a day’s worth of chores for pizza and ten bucks, but it’s still work).

And we applied for jobs all through high school and if we didn’t have jobs during the school year, we went for summer jobs. The only time either one of us was without something for at least part of the summer was my summer before senior year of college when I was s c r a m b l i n g for an internship to meet my graduation requirements (the coordinator at my school was no god damn help and I’m still mad about it).

Neither of my brothers was prompted to find paying work until after highschool, except when family friends needed pet sitters and my sister and I were already working. They were only encouraged to do volunteer work during highschool because it was a graduation requirement.

I was unemployed for a few months after graduating college, which is pretty normal, and that’s when I learned to balance out the actual reality of job hunting and my parent’s expectations of it. And you know the easiest way I found to do that? Work around the god damn house. Do all the dishes. Sweep floors. Vacuum. Is there a junk closet mom’s been meaning to go through? Empty it out, clean it, and go through what needs to be done with the stuff, and then do it for her so that she only has to make the decisions without taking her two days off to do it herself. Shit like that. Honestly? Yep. Yeah mom, I put in nine applications today, one of the places I applied to last week should be calling by the end of the week, and look at your sparkling kitchen. Done. I acknowledge my advantage of being a physically healthy person to pull this off and the amazing support of my friend who would call me at six in the morning to wake up my ass to take a walk, talk shit out, and then start the day with a scheduled thing. I know that’s not in the cards for all of us, but even doing a few simple chores like wiping off the flat stove top did a lot to get my parents off my back.

(Once my sister started working for actual paychecks, she’s pretty much always been employed because she rocks at this stuff. When she got her at-time-dream-job-in-her-actual-degree-field at a photo studio for $50k a year, she had three part time restaurant jobs and still managed to have more of a social life than I’ve ever had. And then when she hated that job, she started her own business and is making it work. She’s a rock star. It’s amazing.)

So my middle brother was unemployed for the better part of a year after his retail summer job stopped giving him hours and he was searching for a job in his field-ish. He wasn’t socialized to pick up housework the way my sister and I were, but due to his recently-diagnosed-bipolar-flavoured mental illness (i’m not sure the exact diagnosis, but it’s in the bipolar type family) he would have manic episodes and needed shit to do to manage his brain so it quickly became a thing that mom would leave him a list of shit that had to be done around the house each day/week and he would get it done (less done on depressive days, but still to the point of acceptably done). He built the routine and when he couldn’t get calls back for interviews, he sought out gig jobs from friends and family, which is how he ended up in his current job. And even now after lots of balancing acts and sorting himself out, he’d on a pretty even keel these days, but if he’s got fewer work hours than the rest of us that week and mom leaves him a list, he gets the must-dos done.

My youngest brother was diagnosed with his gut illness at 9, which is a shit hand of cards to be dealt. Flare ups are bad and can lay him out for days. I know that’s a part of his life and is probably affecting how he’s looking for a job and all, but... it’s very frustrating to me that this is his first job hunt (or temporary gig hunt) and he’s 21. 

He was prompted to get summer jobs while he was in college and relatively healthy, but it wasn’t enforced by my parents on him the way it was on the middle brother and certainly not the way it was enforced on my sister and I. It’s very frustrating to me that my mom will leave a list for my youngest brother with things like 1) empty dishwasher, 2) do your laundry, and 3) play with the dog outside for 20 minutes, and not a single one of those things has been done by the time my mom or I get home (we have similar work schedules). And my mom’s response is to just roll her eyes and grudgingly do it or ask me/middle brother to do it. She doesn’t make him do it. She’s never assigned him to make a simple dinner for the rest of us, the way she has middle brother and myself. She’s never assigned him big projects (clean the basement, vacuum the whole house, scrub out the refrigerator) the way she has middle brother and myself, even as something to be done over the course of the week instead of that day. 

It’s just super frustrating to hear him snap at my parents when they pester him about getting a job because mom, dad, middle brother, and myself are doing full time jobs plus sometimes side jobs (middle brother is running a daily livestream and/or podcast, I’m slowly working fiber work business stuff into my life, mom’s starting a yarn dyeing business) PLUS ALL THE HOUSEWORK and he’s sitting there in his room all day filling out applications for a bit and then playing video games for fourteen hours.

Like... I’d feel less frustrated if I knew or suspected it was the gut illness or something that was kicking him all the time, but I don’t think it is. We learned to recognize that kind of stuff when he was in school because there were times when he could only do a half day or couldn’t go at all. Honestly? I just don’t think he knows how to work. Not the way my sister’s and my gendered upbringing taught us. Not the way my middle brother’s mental illness and brain coping taught him. We ended up as people who need stuff to do during the day. It just looks to us like he’s not trying when the reason he hasn’t emptied the dishwasher in two weeks without my mom standing there making him do it is “I forgot."

Just... ffffguh. Venting. 

[yogaadvise]

A Celebration of the Unrecognized Caregivers Among Us

I remember the specific minute I received the call from the medical professional that my mother had stomach cancer cells. It was June 2012, I remained in my office and also John Mayer's 'The Heart of Life' was playing behind-the-scenes. The poignant lyrics struck me like a lots of blocks: ' You understand it's nothing brand-new, Problem never had great timing.'

The medical professional said that it was an adenocarcinoma-a word I would certainly never heard. My 67-year-old mommy, who consumed natural, played volleyball every Sunday, danced every weekend and also was among the healthiest people I recognized had actually been diagnosed with an extremely hostile as well as fatal type of cancer. That weekend break, I took an indefinite leave from the bookkeeping firm that I co-owned with my sibling in Washington, D.C. and flew to Gainesville, Florida, to aid my mama recover from surgical procedure and begin chemotherapy. As well as just like that, I ended up being one of the 43.5 million Americans that we don't even recognize exist till we end up being one: A caregiver.

The Household Caretaker Partnership specifies caregivers as anybody providing unsettled aid as well as assistance to relative or enjoyed ones that have physical, emotional, or developmental demands. While most caretakers have the tendency to their aging moms and dads, 14 percent of caretakers treatment for a kid with special requirements. Even more compared to 66 percent of caretakers are ladies, and the average American caretaker is a 49-year-old lady, stabilizing a full-time work and also 20 hours a week caregiving. Millennials (grownups age 18 to 34) comprise virtually 25 percent of all caregivers, as well as are equally as likely to be guys as women. Perhaps most challenged are those in the sandwich generation-adults who will certainly should take care of their children and their moms and dads while working a permanent job.

While prevalent and growing, 15 percent of caregivers don't self-identify as supposed caretakers according to a 2001 AARP research on caretaker recognition. Factors include anxiety of discrimination at the office and also isolation from close friends. By not self-identifying, caretakers run the risk of not completely dealing with the demands of the solution and also missing out on workplace eldercare advantages and practical social programs within their community. I had not even heard the term up until we had left the healthcare facility after my mom's 2nd surgery, and also the doctor suggested we hire an expert caretaker to which I reacted, 'I'll be my mom's caregiver.'

' Preferring to involve in caregiving is equipping,' states Amy Goyer, AARP Household as well as Caregiving professional as well as author of Juggling Life, Job as well as Caregiving. 'Engaged caretakers do not have as lots of remorses because they did every little thing they could, yet equally as vital are the special sensations acquired from caregiving. It's intimate and also extreme, as well as the benefits of the connection developing are amazing. When I would certainly put my mama in bed at night, [and see] the pleased, material, secure view her face, there aren't words.'

Echoing this sentiment is 35-year-old Brian Wilson, whose encounter of relocating back house to live as well as care for his moms and dads was just recently showcased on Human beings of New York, the wildly prominent blog site as well as successful publications including street pictures as well as tales of unfamiliar people. In 2015, he moved from Florida to New Jacket in order to help his mother look after his papa, that is fighting Stage 3 esophageal cancer.

' Although I'm offering, I'm getting far more. The joy of helping them, the reward of hanging out with my moms and dads, the complete satisfaction of them obtaining great care-it suggests everything,' Wilson claims. 'Some days are not the finest day, but I'm so happy for this moment with my moms and dads. The trust and also understanding, it's so deep currently.' Wilson's papa is currently in remission, yet he still faces everyday struggles, such as utilizing a feeding tube.

Goyer and also Wilson know exactly what they're speaking about. I valued those minutes caregiving for my mommy: Looking up a Peruvian lullaby she had sung as a kid and enjoying her eyes light up when we discovered the track on YouTube. Learning exactly how she encouraged her Peruvian employer to lay her off, so she might make use of the $800 joblessness check to arrive to the U.S. As well as just how she would certainly kiss me on the temple when I would certainly leave the health center at night.

Every moment with my mom those last few months felt like breathing. My mom had actually always been lively and also adventuresome about life, yet seeing her at risk and also being able to make things much better for her meant the globe to me. My mother handed down August 14, 2012 quietly in her rest with family by her side. Being her caretaker was one of the most hard as well as essential point I have actually ever before done, and I'm for life happy for the opportunity to have actually returned to the individual that had actually provided me everything.

The encounter altered me permanently, and also in 2013, I left the accounting firm as well as started CareSpotter, a nationwide firm that helps households locate exclusive caregivers directly. I was inspired to launch the company after reviewing a New York Times article about exactly how professional caretaker is the primary most sought-after task in America today, yet they are likewise several of the most affordable paid workers in the nation, making minimum incomes. A year earlier, I may have glossed right over the article, not even signing up the word 'caretaker.' Today, we have actually altered lives at CareSpotter, raising access to budget-friendly home-care to families while likewise producing living wage tasks for expert caretakers. I recognize my mommy would certainly have been proud.

Caregiving might be unpreventable for many, yet you could determine whether it is a concern. 'To me, it's the cycle of life,' Goyer states. 'My parents dealt with me, currently I'm taking care of them. And it's an honor.' Caregiving could be an amazing trip, yet it has its challenges. According to a study from the National Family Caretaker's Association, caretakers are 51 percent most likely to be sleep-deprived. A 2012 Metlife research found that HALF of caretakers report eight added health care visits on their own annually, as well as they struggle with the signs of depression at two times the price of the general populace. I bear in mind caregiving's toll being both enormously physical as well as psychological, and while you may not always be your initial concern any longer, it is necessary to keep your health and wellness so you could be there for your loved one as well as yourself.

Here are three essential ways to keep tension in check so you could be fully present to enjoy-and draw out the joy-in a loved one throughout a hard time.

# 1. Maintain knowing and asking questions.

' Education and learning of the loved one's condition plays a big duty in caregiver satisfaction,' states Gail Quest, CEO for the National Alliance for Caregiving. 'The much less confident they really feel in their expertise of the liked one's condition, the more liable they might really feel if something goes incorrect.' Contact the Area Company on Aging for a reference to a local companies addressing particular conditions like Alzheimer's, Parkinson's or dementia.

For hard abilities, like avoiding succumbs to older adults or the best ways to carry out an insulin shot, YouTube is a wonderful resource. Websites, like CareAcademy.com, also offer video training for household caretakers. One amazing team my mom as well as I joined was Immerman Angels, which combined my mama with a cancer cells survivor for support and also comments. Her coach was an useful seeming board and also supporter throughout hard times. We located Immeran Angels and other terrific resources with Livestrong.org, a significant oncology source navigator.

# 2. Preserve and build new relationships.

Many caretakers withdraw from partnerships when they really feel no person recognizes their situation, which could cause a spiral of isolation as well as clinical depression. 'If your identification is concluded just in caregiving, it could be difficult to shift after it's done,' Goyer advises. Support vital connections that value your caretaker responsibilities. Inspect out sources like Caregiver.com for neighborhood support teams, and also research the website PatientsLikeMe.com for disorder specific support system to share resources and tips.

I signed up with a Facebook group called 'Belly Cancer Warriors' for support and comments from other caretakers experiencing the exact same circumstance as me. We were able to share opinions on therapies, medications and alternate treatments, and, most importantly, we sustained each other. On days when no one else can perhaps understand, the participants of that group could, and also they were constantly approving no matter now adverse or aggravated I felt. I still join the group today, sustaining new as well as old members alike.

#3. Practice self-care.

' That's a term I 'd never ever heard prior to caregiving,' Wilson states. 'I believe it's vital now however, I want much more caretakers would certainly do more self-care.' Caretakers frequent circumstances of some type of suffering and threat empathy exhaustion and exhaustion. An excellent caregiver is sensitive to their enjoyed one's demands when faced with suffering, but a terrific caretaker discovers equanimity so they're aware of their loved ones requirements without tackling the adverse effects.

Self-compassion could be as basic as stating day-to-day self-affirmations, such as 'You're doing a remarkable task,' and also 'You're making great decisions.' Additionally, it's critical to take special time for yourself to reenergize as well as treat on your own. I love health and fitness, as well as did workouts where I would certainly sweat profusely like power yoga exercise, or I 'd swim, where I might be alone with my ideas in a physical fitness mode. Many studies have shown that exercise or basic walking releases endorphins as well as various other stress battling, happy-time chemicals in your brain, which not only reduces the discomfort of workout, yet likewise produces a feeling of euphoria and positivity. I did it since I simply felt a load much better, and also it's something my mommy would tell me to do.

For selection, take a look at ClassPass.com, which imitates a membership to various physical fitness workshops in your area, consisting of yoga and team courses. Directly, I chose working out with others to striking the fitness center alone because having a teacher inform me just what to do took me out of my own go to a little bit, permitting my mind to relax so that I might be totally existing for my mommy when she needed me most.

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Adoptions Can easily Go Wrong As well as Exactly what You Need to Perform.

The early indicators of maternity being referred to listed below are actually much just before the fifth week when the 1st menstrual period is actually missed out on. However, Kerala chief official Pinarayi Vijayan points out heaven Whale Difficulty is merely increasing in appeal. When talking about informal clothes, it's constantly nice to see a girl as well as her mom in mama little girl matching clothing strolling in the playground or possessing a picnic. If they decide on to have the road you don't want them to, considering that being actually a mama is to assist your kids all the method even. If that harms, because being actually a mama is to always be actually there certainly even.

Once a pregnancy is actually underway, no person can or even ought to say to the mommy to terminate this. I was actually merely claiming that older mothers have to be even more cautious prior to a baby is actually conceived. That is actually as you mention impossible not to like your kids, nonetheless they act or whatever they may perform to hurt you, that mother affection remains alive in you permanently.

Having had a psychotherapist diagnose a narcissistic mommy as well as gold youngster sibling, et cetera as flying monkeys, I performed some more research study of my own. A lot of are actually created through dragging the receptionist right into the center to play the better half or health2017-dietportal.info even mother and also the outcome is one thing that sounds like the junior high dramatization class made it.

Make an effort making use of one that comes from a person in your family like your mom or granny. They had two children as well as coming from all accounts Mary Ellen was a caring and gentle mama. The mother will not get this 10-day prison time possessed she certainly not send her little ones to institution at all. Mom, an ambrosia, blue food items along with bush rum, has unleashed me right into being, hooked up, safe, adventurous, direct, sincere, all resolved dicipline. Unfortunately, like my mommy as well as aunt, many girls presume that damaged ends belong from lifestyle, as well as the only way to obtain rid of them is actually to cut all of them off. Though undernourished (10% lower than excellent weight) is actually not pleasing, being overweight in maternity improves the threat from mother establishing high blood pressure and diabetes mellitus during pregnancy. An additional suitable means on ways to ship off your mommy in-law is actually that you can easily also attempt the evasion approach. In general, I believe, the notification has been sent out as well as obtained; monetary policymakers recognize that they mistook and are right now for the very first time a lot more responsive to softening regarding QE in favor of whatever else that may imply. It was actually an actually attractive sunny time, and I discovered that the heavens was a cover of deeper blue. Other than my endorsement below to the CNBC customer review, all these bad and unsightly resumes have actually crossed my own personal workdesk space. At the same time, she is the excellent instance of a wonderful mama and a wonderful girl. If you'll be providing the jewelry for her special day, you could additionally acquire a fashion jewelry that possesses her jewel on that such as a ruby if her special day festivity falls on the month from July or even blue topaz for December.

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The Surprising Joys of Parenting a Daughter With a Rare Disability

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As told to Hannah Hickok by Anonymous (names have been changed).

I gave birth to my daughter, Ava, when I was only 23. I had an emergency C-section nine weeks early, and she weighed a terrifyingly tiny two pounds. During my pregnancy, there were red flags that she might not be developing normally, but it was unclear what that would mean until after she was born. The birth itself was traumatic enough, but on top of that, I was alone, without my husband or family with me, which is about as scary as it gets. I was lucky to have an incredible team of caring doctors and nurses—I’ll never forget the anesthesiologist who held my hand through the delivery and told me I was brave, even after her job was done.

Looking back, I realize I was much too young to be taking on such a heavy situation at that age, especially because, for the most part, I was doing it by myself. My now ex-husband, Ava’s father, was several years older and very focused on his career. As a result, he wasn’t around for most of my pregnancy and only made it to one prenatal appointment. He missed Ava’s birth because of work, which was really hard to get over (though I know he still regrets it to this day).

I didn’t get to hold her for more than a month.

The next few months were a whirlwind spent in the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit). Ava’s health was very touch and go, and I was trying to make sense of the situation while spending as much time with her as I could, pumping breastmilk for her every few hours, battling postpartum depression, and recovering from a C-section. Ava was so tiny and fragile that I didn’t get to hold her for more than a month, and after that, only a few times a week for months. This made bonding with her extremely hard.

The hospital had a support group for new mothers, but I still felt isolated, since my situation—and Ava’s condition, which was still unclear and developing—was unlike anyone else’s. There were moms who had twins or triplets, moms whose babies were having a heart surgery, and moms whose babies needed to put on weight. I’m not saying these women weren’t struggling, but I watched them come and go, while I (and Ava) stayed put. After awhile I stopped going, because I couldn’t relate to anyone and felt very alone.

I started to accept that she wasn’t coming home anytime soon, and took apart her crib.

As the months went by, I began to understand how long-term and serious Ava’s health situation was. She was eventually diagnosed with a very rare syndrome that would prevent her from developing normally, both mentally and physically. She was unable to breathe on her own, would never be able to speak, and her physical abilities would be very limited. When she was six months old, she moved to a long-term facility that offered therapy and rehabilitation. It was about 40 minutes away, and because I worked three days a week, I couldn’t see her every day anymore, which was a hard transition. My husband and I started to accept that Ava wasn’t coming home anytime soon, and took apart her crib in the nursery we had set up before her birth.

When Ava was five, my husband and I got divorced. Our relationship had problems that were only exacerbated by the challenges of having a child like Ava. We began visiting her separately and moving forward with our lives. She’s eight now, living in a full-time facility where she is cared for by a wonderful team and where I visit her at least a few times a week. Even though the beginning of my journey parenting Ava was unimaginably hard, and not what I expected, incredible and surprising things have come into my life as a result. Even though she can’t speak or talk, she has a big, spunky, unique personality. I look at Ava’s ability to play, enjoy life, and be a happy kid despite the difficulties she’s been through and it’s given me so much perspective and growth. I guarantee you’ve never met anyone like her, and I feel very special to call her mine.

I guarantee you’ve never met anyone like her, and I feel very special to call her mine.

Getty Images

MORE: I Was Diagnosed with Breast Cancer at 33—While Pregnant

Since day one, Ava has done things her way, which can be very puzzling to those of us around her, but also adorable, funny, and so charming. It’s hard not to just laugh at everything she does: She loves to find trouble and can be such a little sneak! She learned recently to unhook and hook herself back up to her breathing tubes, and sometimes she unhooks herself so she can run across the room to steal her roommates’ toys. That’s just one example of the level of spunk we’re dealing with!

The hardest thing about mothering her—besides the obvious health problems—is figuring out what the goal is. Ava is the most stubborn little thing I’ve ever known, and as long as she’s getting her way, she’s very happy, but the minute you try to teach her something new or make her do anything she doesn’t want to do, she fights you. The older she gets, the stronger and more dangerous her tantrums get. They can be triggered by something as simple as brushing her teeth, which she’ll resist by pulling out her breathing or feeding tubes. I try to force her because learning independence is so important, but it can get to a point where she wins because machines are beeping and her numbers are going down. So I’m always battling myself.

The hardest part about mothering her is figuring out what the goal is.

Ava is happiest sitting on the floor playing with an iPad for 10 hours a day (my mom friends actually can relate to this one!), but then she won’t learn or grow, and I don’t want to be changing and bathing her when she’s 20. My challenge is whether to let her have her way for the sake of being content—in which case, she’ll basically be a toddler forever—or do I spend the majority of my days with her trying to force her to learn and grow? There is literally no other child in her facility (or anywhere else in the world) to compare her to, so we’re all figuring this out as we go.

The situation can definitely be isolating sometimes, but for the most part, people are really sensitive and sweet about Ava. I love when people ask me honest questions about her condition, personality, and our life. The more people act normal about the situation, the less isolating it is, but at the same time, I try to remember that this was once a very foreign world to me too, and people don’t always know what to say or how to act. Encouragement from the people I love is the most supportive thing in my life. My friends are amazing and have even spent the day with Ava a few times when I’ve been sick and couldn’t see her. My siblings are really far away and can’t visit much, but they’re always checking in and telling me that I’m doing great.

People don’t always know what to say or how to act.

After my divorce, I took some time before I started dating again. When I did, I was very picky with who I chose to talk to about her, and sometimes wouldn’t mention her to someone I’d been seeing for more than a month if I didn’t see it going anywhere. I felt guilty that they thought they were getting to know me when the biggest part of my life was a mystery to them, but sometimes it just didn’t feel right (or I didn’t see the point).

There were other people I felt very comfortable with early on and was able to talk about Ava with right away. I’ve been dating someone for more than two years now who has always supported me and made me feel comfortable. On top of that, he has been trained in all of Ava’s care and puts in the maximum amount of effort. It’s a challenge in our relationship at times, but we work well as a team and it’s bonded us in a lot of ways. I was able to see very quickly how dedicated he was to me by how much he wanted Ava in his life.

We’ve been taking Ava home for day trips most weekends for the last few months—a huge, new step for her and us—and it’s been both wonderful and challenging. It can be hard being alone with her and totally responsible for her care with all this heavy medical equipment that her life depends on. She needs my attention at all times, and I’m managing her ventilator, oxygen tanks, feeding pump, batteries, chargers, supply bags, tubes, medications, and breathing treatments. Ava doesn’t always seem interested in new experiences, so some days it feels like we’re doing all this extra work, when it would be easier (and she would be happier) to be playing with an iPad. It’s about finding a balance of what makes her happy and what’s best for her.

She shows everyone in her life to look for joy and fun, even though life doesn’t usually give us our way.

Even though it can be very stressful at times, bringing her home is a chance for her to grow and see more of the outside world, and we’re able to have privacy with her to play and spend the day in a relatively normal way for the first time. Bathtime is a favorite part of the day for both of us, and afterward I’ll set up a little area of toys for her to play with while I cook dinner. We can finally combine our home life with our Ava life, which have sadly always been separate. It’s been hugely rewarding to see her start to recognize our home, and feel more and more comfortable and a part of it.

The best part of this journey is being lucky enough to know Ava at all. I’ve mentioned a lot of the medical hardships, but all that aside, she is an awesome little person. I’ve never found the words to describe just how unique and spunky she is. There’s never been another person I can come close to comparing her to. She first amazed me as a baby with her ability to fight and bounce back from her many medical episodes, and as she’s grown, I’m amazed at her ability to be happy, playful, and funny. She doesn’t understand the concept of “cool” versus “uncool,” and just likes what she authentically likes. She’s a daily dose of perspective, and always showing everyone in her life to look for joy and fun, even though life doesn’t usually give us our way. I’ve learned by watching her, and also by fighting for her, that I can handle a lot. It’s always hard even on the easiest day, but we figure it out, and I’m proud of her, myself, and the little team we’ve become.

MORE: Why I Quit My Fancy NYC Job to Be a Single Mom at 24

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