#but alas..... i haven't received my medication yet....

[smallidarityfan]

self-indulgent smallidarity edit of Joel being weird (based on the themed guess the build video and the statue commission) (I MISS THEM)

[ghostofasecretary]

weekend list!

- LOTRO w/Gem

- get groceries

- make dal more palatable

- wash gold sweater

- send Venmo requests for communal items

- finish All The Crooked Saints audiobook

- call F

- meds for the week

- wash blue shirt (attempt to allieviate stain)

- wash coral skirt (attempt to get stain out)

- wash striped sweater

- wash grey cardigan

- wash tights (stain check), socks, nightgown

- repair main slip

- wash white blouse

- eat lunch

- go to performance (figure out transport, take the bus, get ticket, pack meds, enjoy, see friends after? yeah! get dinner!)

- get back from performance

- paid PD

- timecard

- take out the trash in your room because you noticed it was full and thought "why not take this out now" like a CHAMP, good job!!

do tomorrow:

- make yogurt

- make granola

- make kale salad or sabzi

- make rasam + rice

i'm very happy with today! i Saw A Live Art done by one of my lovely and talented friends and did a ton of laundry such that, for the first time since before i moved, i do not have a Sad Pile Of Laundry. there is no sad pile. there is only definitely clean laundry and laundry that has not yet received a verdict of "dirty." (alas, i did not get stains out of my clothes. not sure what to do with that. an Oxy/Tide pen seems like the next step, i guess? but a) that's more money and b) good god they smell.) i got some good mending done and started/worked on Toni Morrison's The Bluest Eye audiobook.

i feel like i am coming to the end of some of my tasks and it's time to take on new tasks.

my style word of the year for 2022 was magic and for 2023 it was flourescent. i haven't set one for 2024 yet, but i feel like i really have been flowering lately. i'm living on my own! i'm having so much fun picking groceries and cooking and sharing my food with people. i set goals and then met them. i've sent my work out into the world and i'll see how people respond. i'm, like, teaching kids??? if you told me i would be willingly working with kids and finding it meaningful and even enjoyable a year ago, i would have laughed at you. i have friends IN PERSON and have MADE NEW FRIENDS LATELY. fucking A. i really do love being alive.

i want to live a good life. i think my life is pretty good, actually, but i'd like to be less stressed and to do more engaging projects/actually feel on top of the projects i already engage in

so!

stressors:

- my fucking Arabic class and, like. my relationship with studying Arabic in general

- my job is. like. hard actually

- MONEY IS A CONCERN (putting off second job/increased freelancing for the moment but maybe i shouldn't because of:)

- i'm gonna run out of ADHD meds again and also, like, headache meds, if i do not secure an in-state PCP and psych. medical trauma has me shaking and trembling at the prospect of seeing a PCP but i would also. like to continue having meds. so i need to a) call a bunch of people b) find someone with availability soon and c) pay a bunch of money to feel bad to access care

- i should also get my teeth professionally cleaned and make sure i don't have cancer. uuggggghhhhhhh

concerns:

- my poetry collaborator is going to have a busy season so we have Limited Time to get work done, which means i need to be *on* Fridays, which also means being on Thursday evenings, which is. hard as fuck actually. how do i maximize this limited time to be Maximally Fun and also (ideally) useful? remembering that use requires, like, extra work on my end (that i'm behind on)?

[background app season dread. i think if i keep myself busy enough i can ignore this till the first news breaks, which will hopefully be no earlier than February and, in an ideal world, will just take up one week of my attention in March. who knows tho]

aspirations:

- i need another cool skirt (RIP badly stained skirt) and i would love to *make one*

+ what is UP with my machine/how do i Fix It

- do more knitting

- do more independent language practice NOS

- host a proper Board Game Night with many yummy snacks (and caramel apple cake)

- replace laptop battery, holy shit

- make a mega batch of candied orange peel!!!

- keep baking nice breads for your work morning breakfasts, it really does help to eat something solid in the morning and yogurt/granola simply Does Not Work in this weather

- i sleep better when i take my meds before 9. i like to cook for 2-3 hours. i get home at 4. i want at least an hour to rest after getting home. how do i make the math math. cook at 5:30, end 8:30, take meds, go to bed? is that the path? then *how do i call friends*? (ofc i could cook less but i actually really like making a Feast. chutneys in advance should help some; i could freeze ginger + green chili cubes, probably; ???)

other thoughts:

- i really do not want to get sick. so. wear your mask more when it isn't essential that your students see your mouth, order more masks + reuse them less, eat a lot of vitamin C i guess, and try the saline spray your mom gave you!

- i still need floss before i run out. call the post office real quick tomorrow and maybe make a quest of it?? and if that fails. just. re-order it. alas. still. one must. you got a refund! you can ship it elsewhere this time! it's just all *so* annoying

- THIS FRIDAY THE FOOD BANK WILL BE ACCESSIBLE TO YOU SO FUCKING *GO.* try to get flour, at least. oil if possible. produce etc is great but staples are more expensive for me

- i really want my other art to feel Framed, actually, and i think it's been keeping my from hanging any of the stuff my friends have made for me up on my walls. consider options (cunty gallery wall; thrifting; raiding J+A's stock; ???)

little things:

- vacuum

- launder towels + yogurt-making towels tomorrow before making yogurt

- wash + style hair tomorrow afternoon, ideally

- mend glove trim!!

- canvas bags still need preventative care

- green dress still needs straps

- Venmo roommates for home goods (get the one roommate's info)

things coming up:

- cowork with friend Mon

- call mom + play long distance bananagrams Mon

- plan some school Mon

- make food

- THURSDAY GO TO MUSEUM + COOK FOR NEW FRIEND!!

- Friday CLASS RESUMES (= MUST PRINT + PREP MATERIAL)

might be beneficial to journal about my feelings re: Arabic. might be excruciating. can play it by ear!

[annesthaeticc]

🌹

since i receive a rose, i'm to share an excerpt of one of my many WIP's. it's untitled and i haven't had the muse to continue it, so yeah. it's a medstudent!Stephen Strange fic, btw ;)

His eyes. The very first thing you noticed about him, were his eyes. Glacial. Steely. Closed off from the world. The very window to his soul, shut off, hidden from the world. It was translucent, you could almost see the old and cold library lights reflect in his eyes.

The very first time you ever laid eyes on him was on your second year of medicine. You were browsing in the anatomical sciences section of the medical library, looking for a specific book. You pulled the 14th book in the shelf, hoping it would be the book you were looking for, alas, it was not. You read the cover and skimmed some of the first few pages, thinking if you should just stick to reading it and use it as your reference rather than spend the whole night looking for it.

But something in you clicked; you have the whole night to look for the book. No one’s waiting for you at home and the cold bed wasn’t appealing to you at that moment. A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you pushed back the book into the shelf. You grabbed the next book, but before you could check the title, you saw him.

You saw his eyes.

You saw him through the small space created by the books that left the shelf. You saw him standing across you, separated by the mahogany bookshelf full of anatomical references. It was an exceptionally short moment; it was imprinted in your mind. Maybe it was because of the way he looked at you. Glaringly icy yet enchanting. Steely and safe. As if his stare alone was enough for you to send you screaming for the hills. Nonetheless, you stood your ground, feet planted against the concrete. Frozen in shock, stuck feeling an uncertain emotion.

You snapped back into reality when the empty spade of the other side of the shelf was full again; the book was back. You lightly shook your head, the fear of never seeing him again crept on you, it made you feel uneasy. You were never going to see him again.

The very next day he was your laboratory partner.

“I’m Y/N.” your usual cheery self said. He slowly turned and looked at your proffered hand. He shook it, briefly grasping your small hand into his.

“My name is Stephen.” he said, and your ears suddenly pricked up, surprised to hear how deep his voice was.

It was such a nice feeling to put a name on a face, and for the whole day you were reeling. Silently thanking the gods out there, and the almighty fate himself for giving you a chance to meet him.

The next thing you noticed about him, were his hands. They were long, and elegant. And utterly skilled. You could watch him for hours slice up a cadaver’s skin flawlessly. As if his hands were made for it. He moved so meticulously, so beautifully.

“Did you drink coffee today?” he asked one time during a laboratory session.

“Uh yeah.” you replied with a small smile.

“I’ll give you a tip, Y/N. Don’t drink coffee on the day of your major anatomy exam.” you felt him before you heard his words. He stood close beside you and his hand flew up to your side, lightly touching your forearm, before holding your left hand with his.

“Relax.” he breathed into your ear and you had trouble doing what he said so.

“I’m trying.” you sighed.

“Am I making you more nervous?”

“Kinda…”

“Okay.” he chuckled. Instead of moving away from you, his other hand held your right hand.

His hands were warm, a great contrast to cold lights, tiles and almost morgue-esque environment of your laboratory classroom. You could feel him behind you; the steady pattern of his breathing, the even beating of his heart. You started to relax in his presence, within the close distance between of your bodies.

“Now, let’s get the scalpel.” he said, guiding your shaky hands to grab the said instrument. Scalpel in your hand, Stephen carefully helped you slice the skin of the cadaver, cutting a straight line. He slowly let go of your hand that had stopped shaking in his warm grasp.

“You see? Caffeine makes your heartbeat erratic, quicker blood flow, shaky muscle movement.” he said monotonously.

“I clearly forgot that. I’m functioning on four hours of sleep and coffee seemed to do the trick.”

“I don’t think so.” he smirked at you and leant back against the tiled table.

“Thank you, for whatever you did.” you said and looked up at him, and gave him a smile.

“You’re welcome.”

“Say, do you do that to all your lab partners when they get nervous?” you teased him.

“No. Only you.” he replied, a smile forming on his lips and you saw his dimple. You gaped at him and his smile became full blown, clearly, he was enjoying the banter.

“It was completely experimental, Y/N. Just wondered if it’ll work. Oh, and I wondered what your hands would feel like against mine.”

“You flirt!” you gasped. A laugh bubbled up from your throat and soon, the two of you were laughing.

“You like it anyway.” Stephen replied, and gave you a wink.

You did, and you do.

It was the start of something new, something exciting.

[pregnant-javert]

fic writer review!

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

2. What's your grand total ao3 word count?

3. How many fandoms have you written for?

4. What is the first fandom you ever wrote for?

5. Is there a fandom you would like to write for but haven't yet?

6. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

7. Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

8. Which of your fics has the angstiest ending?

9. Are any of your fics pure fluff?

10. Have any of your fics ended differently than you originally planned?

11. Do you write AUs?

12. Do you ever write smut?

13. Do you usually try to stick to canon?

14. What are your favorite tropes to utilize in your writing?

15. Have you ever received hateful comments on a fic?

16. What is the nicest comment you've received?

17. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

18. Have you ever co-written a fic?

19. What is your all-time favorite ship to write for?

20. Is there a WIP you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

21. What are your writing strengths?

22. What are your writing weaknesses?

23. Are there any of your early fics that you wish you could go back and change?

24. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

25. What is your favorite fic that you've written so far?

**Tag another writer if you want!**

I'm putting the answers under a cut because it is very long. :P

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

143 works, with three drafts O.o

2. What's your grand total ao3 word count?

295,376

3. How many fandoms have you written for?

Ten fandoms (Game of Thrones, Deadpool, Jurassic World, Anne with an E, Star Wars, Extraordinary You, The 100, Kakegurui, The Haunting of Bly Manor, and Snowpiercer)

4. What is the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Game of Thrones, in November 2018 :P

5. Is there a fandom you would like to write for but haven't yet?

I toyed with the idea of writing for Shadow and Bone a few months ago but never really went anywhere with it. (As much as I love the Darkling, lmao.)

6. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

when i need someone, it's always you and you are mine, i am yours (Kakegurui) are the top two at 338 and 221. People are still kudosing them for some reason. Then all three of my Daenerys/Sansa fics take the third, fourth and fifth spots :P

7. Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

Yes, I respond to every comment I get. If people are gonna make an effort to comment, I want to reciprocate that since they're doing it to be nice :)

8. Which of your fics has the angstiest ending?

What defines angst? I guess it could be yoake OR dassen, because both Melanie and Alex die in those fics.

9. Are any of your fics pure fluff?

I'm not a huge fluff person, but I'd have to say the Melanie/Audrey/Alex christmas fic :P

10. Have any of your fics ended differently than you originally planned?

With ferrous liquid, I originally thought I wanted Zarah to leave Audrey completely as she was too resentful of Audrey's emotional burden. Then I realised that it was just too sad!! So they get back together.

11. Do you write AUs?

Only if it's canon divergence. I don't really enjoy writing college AUs or anything like that.

12. Do you ever write smut?

Yes. All the time. Used to hate writing smut, love it now.

13. Do you usually try to stick to canon?

Yes and no. Depends on the canon events. Most of the ships don't occur in canon anyway so it's difficult to stick to it :P

14. What are your favorite tropes to utilize in your writing?

Angst, hurt/comfort, violence. Anything that makes you feel sad :)

15. Have you ever received hateful comments on a fic?

Yes, very early on. Haven't gotten any in years but when I did, I just deleted them immediately. Who cares :P

16. What is the nicest comment you've received?

This comment from @olivish on humanity:

This is beautiful. I love it. The 'Of Mice and Men' reference is so on-point. I never gave Bob much thought, but you've really made him into a person in this fic, like, even as Bob himself is observing his own lack of humanity, the reader feels exactly the opposite. Like, the fact that he is still motivated by kindness is something of a miracle, isn't it? Also Wilford's MO of keeping his victims isolated from one another shines so clearly here. He's trained Bob not to interact with others. The deformities on his face and the sheer size of him go a long way to accomplishing this goal. Audrey is different, she's a person magnet, so the way to isolate her is to make others loathe her through envy. But that doesn't work on Bob, whose status on the train is assured and what he longs for most in the world is human connection. The more I think about it the more compelling it gets. Just wonderful work with a character I never paid much attention to.

17. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not entirely, but there have been some portions of other peoples' fics that look very similar to what I have written O.O

18. Have you ever co-written a fic?

No, but I hope to one day ahahaha

19. What is your all-time favorite ship to write for?

Well Melaudrey is up there because of the Memories™️ but honestly? Audrey/Zarah. There's so many aspects to their relationship in canon that are just so fun to explore :))))

20. Is there a WIP you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I'm trying to get through it, but probably mel and allie steal a train. I got some weird comments on it when the first chapter came out and it just tanked my motivation HARD (and they were pretty nitpicky comments, to be honest) Found it extremely difficult to keep going, even with an outline and a solid idea of where I wanted the story to go. Not to be self-pitying, but I was looking forward to writing it too :( I might continue with it, but it'll take months. Maybe during summer when I have more time to think about it?

21. What are your writing strengths?

I guess that I can get into the heads of the characters really well? I love doing this. I love dark and psychological fics where I can pick their brains apart O.o I'm also good at writing emotionally. So there's that.

22. What are your writing weaknesses?

I tend to over-rely on dialogue, and I REALLY struggle with just...not writing dialogue. I can't explain why, but I need the characters to talk so I can move the story forwards. :P I also struggle to end fics well. Suzanne Collins syndrome lmao

23. Are there any of your early fics that you wish you could go back and change?

As silly as this sounds, I wish I could go back and change certain aspects of tsukamu, the pregnant!Melanie crackfic. It's quite rushed in places and some of the timelines don't make sense (if it was Ben's kid, and she was in the research station for a month, there's no way Wilford could have imprisoned Melanie for nine months). Alas, I already published it in a book, so I can't change it now.

24. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

Ehhh it seems a bit iffy, have never done it before but like...I assume this means if a character is speaking in another language that the POV character doesn't understand? If so I'd just say '[character] said something in [language]' and leave it at that.

25. What is your favorite fic that you've written so far?

ownership. It's dark, it's angsty, there's medical stuff and also some comfort there as well. Chef's kiss :))

[justinsdaysinthedark]

Post # 6 - It is what it is

I'd be lying if I said I haven't spent the past half an hour with tears flowing from my eyes staring at a blank screen wondering how I'm going to get everything I've got floating in my head out. I suppose listening to Coldplay live in Argentina probably wasn't the best choice of music to set the mood. I'll work on that one in the future...

Where do I start? It's been a question I'm often asking myself at the start of these blog posts and it's certainly not the easiest one. What do you guys know? There's been so much happen since my last post on Thursday night.

Friday July 26th: I saw my doctors around lunchtime who came in quite concerned. Whilst they were confident my lymphoma was one called DLBCL (Diffuse Large B- Cell Lymphoma), some tests had come back with suspect results that it could be a more aggressive and harsh type of lymphoma called Burkitt's lymphoma and if confirmed, chemo was starting that night with no time to waste. There was also one marked in the middle (a cross of the two) called Burkitt's Like Lymphoma which is treated similarly to DLBCL. Whatever it was, I couldn't change it. I just wanted answers and if treatment needed to start, let's get it underway!

Adam, my incredible haematology doctor sent off another test of my gall bladder to finally get the confirmation I was after. It was urgent. He had to know. It was reassuring of Adam to state "Justin, we need to know what this is. Preliminary results are due back later this afternoon and that will hopefully rule out Burkitt's. if it is Burkitt's, we'll start chemo tonight and I'll be with you every step of the way - even if I have to stay back a few hours."

I know doctors earn a fair coin on a lazy day, but how many give you that much confidence that you and your health is important to them? I'm going to have it a guess and say not many but alas, I am so incredibly lucky with the team of doctors I have.

4:00pm and Adam strolls in the door heading straight for my room. My heart drops, similarly to what it had when Michael dropped the news I had lymphoma. "Good news. Preliminary results are back and we're confident it's not Burkitt's. You can't rule out anything in life, so there still is a small chance it could be. We're happy to wait for the final results on Monday, figure out a treatment plan from there and start Chemotherapy next week. Spend Saturday and Sunday on day leave and I'll see you next week."

This was news to my ears. In a time of what has been negative or no news, I could spend the weekend with family relatively freely and forget everything was happening for a few hours each day. My Uncle Bob and Aunty Denise were down from Tasmania to see me, as was my Aunty AJ and cousins from Bairnsdale so it all felt like it fit into place.

Friday night saw me considerably more relaxed with this news...that was until Collingwood started and it was the demolition it was. Slightly humorous side note, the nurse came in around 9pm for my nightly observations. Naturally, my heart rate was up a bit more than normal watching the football (118BPM - normally between 70-85BPM). This caused the nurse to call in the team of doctors who wanted to put me on an ECG machine for the night and monitor my heart. I assured them it was because Collingwood were on and if they gave me an hour, I'd be okay. It took some convincing, but it finally worked. Back they came an hour later and it had gone down - crisis averted.

Saturday afternoon and evening was wonderful. I went down to dads for dinner and was fortunate enough to spend some much needed time with family over a beautiful dinner and good laugh.

Sunday was much the same. I went home, mum did a fair chunk of washing for me as I spent it being me. Seeing Courtney, napping in my own bed and even headed over to Fountain Gate and got some much needed new clothes and other miscellaneous items - something that seems so simple but is such a luxury when you've spent the past 15 days in hospital.

Monday July 29th: They say the more you think positively, the more positive news you shall receive....or it goes something like that right? I woke up this morning the most upbeat and best I'd felt in weeks. I felt fine. I felt no pain, almost like I'd woken up from a shitty hotel! In all honesty, I felt like I'm abusing the system however I keep being quickly reminded how much I need to be here. Did I wake up so positive because I lived my old life for 16 hours over the weekend? Is it because I was hoping to hear a reasonably positive outcome with this lymphoma test? Probably a mix of both if I'm honest. But whatever it was, I was hopeful.

Adam came around at roughly 10:00am. Didn't really have much for me in terms of news but more of an outline of the day. If they hear the results of the test they were waiting on, they'd write me up a treatment plan ASAP and get chemo started this afternoon. At worst, I'd be starting it tomorrow (Tuesday). They just needed that definitive answer of what type of lymphoma I have - an answer I'd love more than anybody.

Either way, we agreed i'd need a PICC (Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter) line in which basically is a long-term cannula. It runs from the inside of my arm right up and around and stops basically just outside my heart. This is for easy access for the chemotherapy and even an easy exit for blood tests - something that's proven incredibly difficult to take from me over the past few days. Additionally, these lines can last up to six months verses the three days you get from a cannula. There were too many positives to say no to!

This wasn't scheduled for any time in particular, so 1:00pm came around and I was about to be taken to get the PICC line in.

Just as I was about to leave, Adam came in with a few words I'm all too familiar with. "Well, the pathology tests we were waiting on have come back inconclusive..."

Woah. Wait. What? How do tests of my gall bladder that was removed six days ago come back inconclusive? How does one of the main sources not have enough 'data' to tell them what sort of lymphoma I have? I was just stunned.

Adam continued "As a result, we can see some signs of Burkitt's lymphoma and that's what we're going to treat you for. You're young. You should be able to handle it and it's better to over treat you than under treat and be stuck where we are at the moment. It's an intense 16-day chemo treatment that will totally wipe out your red and white blood cells as well as your platelets. We foresee you being in here for another 3-5 weeks, depending on how well your body goes getting these levels back up to normal post this first treatment..."

I honestly say this but that's all I remember from this conversation. I was hoping I'd be heading home this week but looks like that definitely won't be happening. Today marks day 40 of the past 55 days in hospital (day 15 of this stint) and if I go off the longest suggested time expected, I have another 35 days to go. That honestly crushed me.

I got taken down to get my PICC line in - quite an easy process. Very similar to putting in a larger cannula, just a whole lot longer and uses local anaesthetic as well as being guided by an ultrasound and X-ray. I'm lucky enough to have two ports, which will hopefully speed up some of my medication and how much they can pump in. Does it feel weird? The only weird part was feeling it slide down past and near my heart - but that's okay now!

By the time I return, dad made his was in to try and help process the news. We get Adam in to once again explain the process. In layman's terms, I'll be starting an intense and high-dose 16-day chemotherapy program kicking off tomorrow (Tuesday) morning. Most of the time across the next 16 days, I'll be hooked up via IV drip getting whatever medication is required. I think I saw I have rest days on days 7 & 8 which I suppose will give me two days to look forward to. At the end of the day, it's something I'm not certain on and will be a day by day process and constant learning about what's going into my body to help fight with me.

I do have one request for you all. With my body not producing red or white blood cells or platelets over the next few weeks, I do request if you are planning to visit however are sick to stay away those extra few days. With my immune system going to be at the lowest it's been, I don't particularly want to pick up something I don't need. Additionally, as much as I'd love flowers, they're also banned due to the infection risk of the spores mixing with the chemotherapy and causing some dangerous damage from the inside.

At the end of the day, if you're not sure please message me and check as I'm not entirely sure myself about everything. I'm constantly learning as I'm going.

How am I feeling? I'm nervous. I'm nervous at the unknown. How will this affect me? How bad am I going to feel? Will I lose my hair? What will my energy levels be like? In advance, I do apologise if over the next few weeks I'm not myself. Truth be told, that's because I probably won't be.

In a way, i'm finally excited to start my treatment first thing tomorrow morning (after yet ANOTHER lumbar puncture). I was so envious of both people next to me getting their first rounds of chemo today. I know mine will be intense but I just can't wait.

I've learnt so much about cancer and chemotherapy over the past four days and I know there's so much more to learn. Today I learnt I'll be incredibly highly cytotoxic, which basically means all needles and anything used on me need to go in a separate bin just for me. Additionally, I'll have to get used to the good old double flush after the toilet to ensure all waste is disposed of. Mouth ulcers are a big issue with most chemo patients as well. I'll have to start brushing my teeth after every meal and taking a special mouthwash 3x daily to assist with keeping these under control. There's plenty of other little things, but they're two I least expected.

Everything really hit me last night....not like it did tonight though. I just had twenty minutes to reflect and it just became a sudden realisation. What I'm going through is real. It's not a 'joke' anymore. It's not something they're looking at as a potential cause. It is the cause. I have a legitimate medical issue and it's finally time to fight lymphoma. All well and good to be talking the talk like I have been - it's now time to walk the walk. This sits well with me. If I give somebody my word, I do whatever I can to get it achieved. Unfortunately for the lymphoma throughout my body I've given it my word and it's time to fight it. Round one begins tomorrow morning.

I leave tonight feeling a whole lot better than I did when I started tonight's post. I didn't learn from my words earlier as Coldplay live from Argentina is still playing however I'm in a much more comfortable mind space.

My best friend of a lazy 20 years, Dylan visited tonight with his partner, Jacqui. One phrase popped up more than most and they made me aware it was a common phrase coming out of my mouth.

"It is what it is."

I can't control what's happened to me as "it is what it is." What I can control from here though is how I fight lymphoma. Thanks for the visit tonight guys, I appreciated the two hours spent here in what's been an incredibly tough afternoon.

Much love.

Juzz xx

[justcallmemav]

7/20/18

--------------------------

Pt.20

--------------------------

“You didn't get along with her, so this shouldn't be affecting you this bad.”

(She saw how you treated me and wanted to adopt me.)

“You trust people too easy, girl.”

( I had known him for 13 years. I built that trust. )

“You put yourself in this situation.”

( I didn't ask for it.)

“I never liked him anyways, trash grew legs and took itself out.”

(I loved him for five years.)

▪▪   ·I love you, mom. I'm sorry I couldn't be what you wanted me to be.

---

▪▪   ·I'm at work I'll message you when I'm off. Ly2.

---

▪▪   ·I could use a call right now.

---

▪▪  ·Can't talk right now, will call tomorrow. You'll be fine for a day.

--------------------------------------------------

▪  You're my best friend. I love you. I can't take it anymore.

---------

▪   I think this is it.

--------------------------------------------------

▪▪▪  Thank you for always loving me unconditionally. You're the greatest sister anyone could ask for. I love you. You're better off without me.

--------------------------------------------------

      You came to visit me two days after i was taken into the hospital on july 20th at 9 o'clock at night.

      I was drinking an excessive amount within the matter of two hours.

     Within the last few minutes of the second hour, I saw the walls of the world around me collapsing.

This is it.

I have nothing left.

     My mind wouldn't rest. I took a xanax but it didn't help ease my mind.

     It sure couldn't mend my broken heart.

                  This was the last time.

It didn't work before.

           It has to work now.

                          So I begged, and I cried.

I prayed to a God I wasn't even sure existed.

Please take me now.

        I want to come home.

                      I think I'm ready now.

JUST TAKE ME NOW. I AM READY. PLEASE FUCKING TAKE ME. I'M READY.

      I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I made the choice to give into my thoughts and my depression. I made the choice to finalize this shit I consider living. This existence. This truly was it. This is the end.

      I let my hands trace their way to my fate. To my drawer. Opening the pill bottle. Where the palm of my hand met my lips to fill my mouth with what I knew would make everything better soon. Next thing I know, my body was lured to the bottle of vodka as it stands at the end of the bed. I wrap my fingers tight around the neck of the bottle, lips to the glass. Down the hatch and into the rabbit hole I go. I feel my body spiral. Down...down...down...down…

                      Boom

                         So bitter.

                        Yet so good.

Was this the only way i could be happy again?

I will reach the numbness I yearn to undergo.

I've heard the rumors.

Does it seem as free as they say?

            Then along came the thump.

                       ALAS~

Nothingness.

Darkness. No voices, no pain, no criticism. Just the echoes of my heart beat.

Thump.. Thump….. Thump….

After what felt like days… the darkness fades steadily. The numbness dissolves like ice through my fingertips.

               Off in the distance I hear something. A cry? A car? A siren? A siren.

I struggle to come to consciousness.

                 I find it nearly impossible.

Then out of the blue, I hear a voice.

                A voice so faint and familiar.

After some time, I can open my eyes half way as I slip back into consciousness.

My vision is hazy. I managed to come to when I hear her voice.

“Cayley, there's some people here who need you to get up and come outside. They need to check on you.”

I see the pigments from the lights spinning on their vehicles, bouncing off of the brick walls on the outside of my home, but it's all blurry.

       I struggled to stand as I stepped through my threshold to go outside.

Who needs to talk to me? About what? Why?

I look up and see two policemen and a paramedic. I begin to hyperventilate.

“Is my dad okay?”

Ma'am, we received a call stating that you may be a harm to yourself, so I ask that you don't resist help. Are you able to follow us to the back of the ambulance, ma'am?

·I haven't done anything and I'm not a harm to myself.

·For your own safety we need to make sure that's true. We can't take risks, miss.

·I'm sorry, please ma'am let go of my arm, I don't need help. GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME I AM FINE.

I hear my father talking to the police officer but couldn't make out what they were saying over dad's coworker crying and all of the sounds around me. I panicked. I heard my dad speaking once more, only this time it was directed at me.

He asked me three things.

“CAYLEY BABY WHAT’D YOU DO?”

“WHAT DID YOU TAKE?”

My hearing began to fade slowly, as I focused on the ringing gradually developing in my head. I could ever so slightly hear the walkie talkies and daddys office keys jingling in his pocket. I heard Sues charm bracelet that she loves so much.

I felt my heartbeat through my chest, as if it was trying to escape. I feel my heart rate descend,  I look up to see what was around me. Everyone was there.

I saw my father crying and shaking.

 I saw his girlfriend crying.

    I saw my father's coworker crying.

          I was embarrassed.

Yet, too weak to care.

I muttered to the medic under my breath;

“I'm ready to go. Ma'am please take me.”

I collapse, but the woman was quick to catch me. She definitely had motherly instincts. Not even 2 seconds after i collapsed, I lose consciousness.

          I woke up in the back of an ambulance. I'm being hovered by two men with papers on clipboards and the medic who stopped me from busting my ass on concrete. They're bombarding me with questions and demands.

“Your oxygen levels are low, ma'am. I need you to inhale and exhale on ten. The oxygen being distributed through the tubes in your nostrils is a bit cold. Just a fair warning. Are you physically capable of removing your tunnels, lip piercing, your engagement ring, and whatever else pierced or on your person that could be a threat to yourself of me?”

“Do I have to take off my ring?”

“Yes ma'am, unfortunately it's code. We'll put it in this bag. It will stay unbothered. Please remove your piercings.”

Shortly after I began hyperventilating because I couldn't stop crying, and boom.

All consciousness was lost.

How could I harm anyone with a ring?

She should have been patient, anyways.

~Don't rush me.~

       You asked me why I did it. It took you two days, it took my father less than 60 seconds to get to me when he saw the ambulance at the door.

       You took 48 hours to muster the pride to visit me, and when you did, you showed no emotion at all. You hugged me that day and I felt no love.

        I was barely aware of what was going on, yet I somehow sensed tension coming from your end. As if you were forcing yourself to care when deep down you knew you didn't.

I felt like I was being smothered by a well maintained, ‘JLo Glo’ scented greeting mat.

          Even when I was much younger and you would stay in and drink, you'd hug me and I felt this giant strange force field of motherly love surrounding me, if that makes any sense. There was a step by step process of your home drunk persona and it went the same way every time.. but I'll get to that in a moment.

    Anyways, I'm still thankful you showed. Even two days late. You had me slightly convinced that you actually cared.

ALMOST. I was informed of the insensitive remarks you made to my father about me.  You really had the audacity to turn around and say I was wanting everyone to be worried about CAYLEY because ‘everything has to be about CAYLEY and CAYLEY was just looking for attention'.

         Like I didn't come home from school and take two steps through the threshold only to see you crying because you got dumped. You threatened to end your life. (Because you loved this man so much. The man you are with now. 9 years later. The man you use for money. Whom you cheat on)  Me and your biological daughter took you and admitted you.

         I felt like i betrayed you, but i needed you to be alive. For...whatever reason. I guess cos y'know.. a 12 year old needs a parent. You came home and the meds they gave you calmed you down, but you liked that too much. You quickly became dependent, actually you still are. You contradict yourself too often.

         Don't you remember what I have been put through..? By you, mostly. You were and still are so hypocritical that it makes me chuckle. Sigh- anyways, I couldn't fully comprehend anything you said during our visit. I couldn't gather the energy to move nor look at you, let alone reply to your bullshit motherhood quotes.

        You left when the time was up, two weeks go by in a blur still ever so slowly, and they transfer me. People were able to reach out to me. A handful of people I love and cherish which includes my sister, my father, his girlfriend... the woman who has been more of a mother to me than you ever were.

       It didn't take much time after me being in that God forsaken inpatient facility for me to be pulled aside by a nurse in a confidential manner. My brain threw around every possible reason as to why she was doing this.

--------------------------------------------------

Am I going home?

Are they moving me again?

What did I do wrong?

--------------------------------------------------

  ~ Nothing, stop with the assumptions~

    She informed me that I had received multiple calls from a woman saying she is my mother but she couldn't pass it through because another woman, who ALSO claimed to be my parent/caregiver, had requested that this number (she was giving me )go on a restricted no contact list. She handed me a sheet of paper with with a number on it. Buttttt, it wasn't yours. So I had no idea what was going on. Who's my caregiver? Did my sister put you on the no call list? Nope. It wasn't your number and you never do wrong, so you denied having anything to do with that whole thing. I decided to call the number while the addiction groups were in the other room. I had no reason to be there so I had time to meditate, draw, socialize, or find out who was on the other end of that phone line.

It's obvious what I chose.

It took a few tries until someone finally answered. When they did I felt like an idiot. How could I not know.

You hated her because of how hard she tried to see me and my siblings. You had so many hateful things to say about her, yet no validation. It made you angrier when you told us about her then made her out to be a bad guy and we still got in touch with her. You hated that, didn't you. You hated it because the truth was going to come out if we found her.

Lady, I met my real mother when i was 11 years old. That was the day my father bought my favorite hat… a black fedora with a blue stripe inside of a purple stripe in the middle (which I still own). I was wearing this black shirt with a red graphic design on the front and back that was WAY too baggy on me and a pair of cuffed blue jeans, I do believe. It's been eight years, I have great memory but I'm not special like that.

If it weren't for daddy, my sister, and my brother... I would've never known who she was. Well, when I finally got ahold of my biological mother on the phone the day after I received the number by the nurse… she was genuinely upset. She said one thing that will stick to my brain for the rest of my life.

“I lost you once I can't lose you again”

You won't have to.

[thatbipolargirl]

6-16-2022

I have therapy this morning at 10:00, then I'm touring Genesis Health Club and then I'm going to Walmart to pick up my new glasses and get my second COVID-19 booster shot. I have a prescription to pick up from the pharmacy there as well. My insurance now covers a gym membership, so that's why I'm going to Genesis. They are the only fitness center in St. Joe that has a pool, and that's why I chose them. I love to do water aerobics, so I know I'll actually use the membership. I only wish I had someone to go with me, but maybe I will make a friend or two in class to help keep me motivated in the long run. I have a free 3-month membership certificate to Genesis that I won on an online auction for the Noyes Home, so maybe Jeremy can join me until I get settled in a routine. I haven't even told him that I jAnoined yet. I need to talk to him about it today. My goal for the next twelve months is to lose about 75 to 80 pounds. I weigh about 225 right now, and I think this is a realistic goal. I look fine most everywhere except this stubborn stomach fat. So besides water aerobics, I'm going to work on my abs several times a week. I should probably do my arms as well since they feel so weak sometimes. They look okay, but I have hardly any muscle in them. Anyway, going to the gym will help me feel better both physically and mentally, so I'm really glad my insurance has this complimentary program.

My birthday is in five days, and I'm dreading turning 47. Where the fuck has my life gone? Jeremy let me open a couple of presents yesterday that came in the mail. He got me a silver bracelet that says, "I love you to the moon and back," and a pair of socks that read "Sorry I can't" on one sock and then the other reads "My murder shows are on." Does he know me well or what? I'm so obsessed with true crime stories! I'm always watching Dateline, 48 Hours, Forensic Files, etc, or watching documentaries on Netflix about serial killers and other true crime. A few months ago, Allison introduced me to the podcast "My Favorite Murder," and I fucking LOVE it! I had never even listened to a podcast before because I thought they were all just wastes of time, but I was wrong. The hostesses of "My Favorite Murder" are named Georgia and Karen. I identify with both of them because they both have anxiety disorders and are obsessed with true crime. The way they talk on their podcast makes me think that if I knew them in real life, we would be great friends. I've discovered that characteristic is key to making and continuing a podcast. At the end of every show, they always say, "stay sexy, don't get murdered." I ordered and received a SSDGM bumper sticker for my car. It has been too fucking hot to put it on my car yet, but I will soon.

I counted the steps at my therapist's office Tuesday. There are 21 -- five and then a landing, seven and then a landing and the front door, and then nine inside the building. I guess I should be happy the elevator is broken so I can occupy my stupid brain by counting stupid steps. So dumb. I fucking count everything, and I'm not one who enjoys math at all. I take that back, I like doing math when clothes are on sale for 75% (or more) off. Ha. What can I say? I have inherited my mother's shopping skills.

I'm in a relatively good mood today. I hope it lasts awhile. Having bipolar disorder is so unpredictive. I am rapid cycling, so my moods can change on a dime. I cannot wait until I get a new doctor here in town and get on some new medication, even though I dread med changes. I'm just so ready to be off of Zyprexa. It really fucks with my blood sugar, and it is one of the medications that "helped" me gain all of this weight.

Anyway, I have therapy in an hour and a half, so I need to go take a bath and get ready. I'm in the mood to write more, but alas, life is waiting for me.

Until then...