#but not being able to help my mom when she's struggling with my nan feels even worse and i miss being able to pop home for weekends

[catinfroghat]

I feel so bad because I'm not even 6 months into this job and I really like everyone here but I am unfortunately applying for jobs again because I really feel like it isn't the best time to be so far away from my family whilst my nan's health is deteriorating 😭 plus it's really too expensive to live here on my current salary I'm scraping by so I need to either get something better paid or move somewhere cheaper

[applejuicebegood]

HELLO!!! It is I! I’ve been thinking… if you’d be able to do an Irish!fem!reader who has all these Irish dancing trophies and the little dresses and shoes from when she was small, cuz I still do 😭, and reader gets so embarrassed because she can’t do it anymore and the boys insist on doing the walls of limerick with her!!!! Thank you!!!!

Platonic!141 x Reader - Sweet Music

Fem!Reader

A/N: OK, I am actually so fucking sorry this took forever. I was caught up with mock exams but they are over! And I shall be writing more! I had alot of fun writing this even tho I didn't do ur ask justice. I really hope that you enjoy it tho Teddy! Thank you for being the actual best and being so patient and kind! Masterlist

Cw: Brief mentions of alcohol, Reader has a dog Word Count: 1624

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

‘You got the last box?’ 

‘Yea.. yes! Don’t worry’ You struggled to grip the dusty cardboard against your body, your foot catching your ankle on the last step of the attic later. Earlier that day, you had asked Kyle to help with the daunting task of breaking open your sealed off attic and clearing it for storage of your military gear. Getting rid of whatever your mother had decided what was best to collect and hoard before she left. You both were able to clear out the majority of the space that afternoon, choking on the kicked up dust and cobwebs. You had piled the boxes in your living room, circling your couch and chairs. You dog, Jax, strutted around the constructed towers, cautiously bending his head to sniff the stale cardboard. As you huffed the final box atop a stack that was starting to bleed into your kitchen, both you and Gaz admired your efforts with your hands resting on your hips. ‘You wanna crack em’ open?’ ‘Let me get the wine first’ You could hear Kyle snicker behind you as you made your way to the kitchen. Returning with two glasses and one of your more expensive bottles of chilled red in hand, you settled yourself on the carpeted floor. Your head resting against the seated cushion of the couch. You handed Gaz the bottles and glasses and in trade he handed you a box cutter. The echo of the wine filling the glasses was drowned by the blade of your knife ripping through the packaging tape lining the top of the box settled in front of you. Gaz did the same with a pair of kitchen scissors. You took a generous swig of your glass before diving your hands into the brown packing paper. Jax had settled his head on Kyle’s thighs, watching him unwrap a picture frame, starting a pile of garbage packing paper to be burned in your wood stove. ‘Oh-hoo.. What’s this?’ You lifted your head from the unwrapped shot-glasses to see that Gaz held a small rusted golden plaque in his hands. Your name scrawled in chipped cursive across the bottom of the frame. ‘Holy, haven’t seen that in forever. This must be my old dancing stuff’ ‘Wha- you did dance?’ ‘Surprised are you? Mom signed me up for it to get me outta the house.. I only continued with it cause’ Nan wanted me to get closer to my “gaelic roots” as she put it’ 

You scooted over to sit next to him, your hand instinctively finding Jax’s ears to scratch behind. You reached into the box and pulled out a bound pile of plaid. Undoing the twine, you unfolded a deep green plaid skirt, the seam stitched golden by your grandmother's hand. You ran your fingers down the trailing glint, it was as if you could feel your grandmother's touch holding down the fabric as she delicately thred it through her sewing machine. You could hear her sighs and coo’s of approval as you stumbled out of your bedroom, wearing the skirt for the first time. ‘So! Keep or give away?’ Kyle said before taking a swig of his own wine. He pulled another box closer to him, a small cloud of dust kicking up from his scissors gilding across the cardboard. 

‘Keep for now, might get rid of the trophies but I can gives the dresses to Emi’ ‘She’d really like that’ Kyle said smiling back at you, his rich chocolate eyes highlighted in the early evening sun. You held the small dress close to your chest for a moment before setting it beside you, in the now ‘keep’ pile. 

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

You could feel the cold of the metal seat through the lining of your tactical pants. The weight of your combat vest held you down against the bench. It was cold, the air thick with the smell of gasoline and salt. The warm brush of your lieutenant's arm against the side of yours was the only thing reminding you that there would be a bed and a warm meal to hopefully return too after this mission. It was just you and Simon on the installed benches in the transport plane, the rest of the squad just offloading moments before. ‘Leave is com’in up.. plans?’  Simon's thick, graveled baritone cut through your coms, bringing you back into the familiar state of heightened awareness. 

‘Oh.. umm.. Just gunna head back home.. Emi has a dance recital ‘week before Christmas and Mari wants me to drive her north for a weekend with her girlfriend, I told her no but she’s been begging me over the phone so-’ ‘Friends?’ Simon asked, looking over at you. You glanced up at his eyes, darkened and blood-shot. The deep onset of the pale skull mask making them appear blended into the dirtied black fabric of the hood. ‘No.. my sisters, I thought I told you- hold on’ You smiled as you reached around and dug out from a small back pocket in your vest a chipped golden photo case. Excitement brewed within you at the chance to discuss your little family. Clicking it open and holding it up for Simon, he held it between his large gloved fingers. You focused back on his eyes, watching as they looked over the photos set into the sides of the case. The first being a blurred still of Mari holding your infant sister a few days after she was born. You were able to catch her mid laugh, her smile drawn tight, deepening her dimpled cheeks. Emi was swaddled in her lap, her soft chubby cheeks poking out from the quilted blanket she was wrapped in. The second photo was an old-black and white still of your grandmother when she was younger, her hair swooped elegantly over her forehead. It was the same photo that was kept in your grandfather's wallet, given to you after he passed. Behind it was a small swath of deep green plaid fabric. Simon ran his thumb over the black crossing lines, looking back to you with confusion. ‘Oh.. that umm.. Was a piece of one of my dancing dresses.. Nan made them for me and.. I don’t know, keeping it with me is a sort of reminder I guess’ You say taking the golden frame back from him, shutting it with a click. You rubbed your thumb over the scratches and dents in the metal, a testament to the many trips the case took with you throughout your multiple deployments and missions. ‘Dancing?’ ‘Ha… yea.. Mom umm.. She had me do it throughout primary’ ‘I.. wasn’t expecting that..’ Simon mumbles, shifting on the metal bench. ‘What? Do I not look like a child dance prodigy?’ You say, nudging his arm with your elbow. ‘No just… god.. cannot picture you.. I mean-’ You tried to hold back the ripple of amusement from your lips, watching the metaphorical gears turn in Simon's head. He quickly glanced back at you, confirming your clear enjoyment in his confusion. You leaned your head back against the metal wall, thumbing the photo case before tucking it back into the pocket of your vest. It was within these small moments of reprieve from tactical expectations that you wished you could put Simon, and the rest of your team's photo within the case alongside your sisters. 

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish 

‘Johnny! Food’s here!’ You call up from your living room, placing the hot paper bags on the low coffee table. You expected to hear his harsh footsteps down the creaking wooden stairs. Yet, only the sound of the dimmed slow piano crackling from your record player and the high-pitched thrum of late evening summer crickets filled the air. ‘Johnny!’ You shouted, unpacking the food. ‘Where..? God..’ You groaned, looking towards the hallway stairwell. You trudged up the stairs, two at a time. Your feet bouncing down the carpeted hallway, the dark glow of the evening sunset casting a dim glow from the hallway window. ‘John..?’ You said, poking your head into one of the spare bedrooms. ‘In here!’ Relief broke in your chest like the shell of an egg as you heard your sergeant's rough voice from your bedroom. You hadn’t been able to yet undo the familiar anxiety that comes with the lack of response from your teammates, an anxiety bred from being their stand-by medic. 

You pushed open your bedroom door, the hinges squeaking. You had stopped using this room as yours a long time ago. It was now more a storage shed for your sister's old clothes and your military gear. You found John standing by an old dresser, dusty plaques and trophies covering the top of the mahogany wood. You watched as John held one of the frames in his large scarred hand. ‘What did ya find?’ You ask, standing by his shoulder while stuffing your hands in your pockets. ‘You should've told me you did dance’ He said, placing the frame back down. The picture he was looking at was an old, sunbleached still of you as a child, standing in a plaid dress next to your grandmother who was holding your then infant sister. Your smile held a few dark spots as you had just started losing your baby teeth.

‘Why’s that?’ You say, picking up another photo, you used the sleeve of your sweater to rub the dust from the shiny metal frame. ‘Well because my gran’ forced me into it too’ ‘Shut up’ You say, placing the cleaned frame back down with a thump. ‘Im serious, once we fly up with Roach, me’ sister’ll show you the photos’ ‘That is.. I never would have guessed’ ‘Can say the same thing for you Bonnie’ 

[hautevaux]

OOC:  It’s world mental health day, and I’ve seen a few take a moment to talk about their current mind, mental state, situation - and thought I would do the same: while encouraging others to reach out to whomever they can for help should they need it.

No, no I’m not okay.  I haven’t been okay in a very long time and I most certainly am not getting any better. If anything, I am getting worse. Sure, I seem to have my once crippling anxiety somewhat under dubious, fragile control for the time being but the stress and hideousness at home is wearing me away so much that I can barely think any longer. 

I don’t find joy in anything any more. I don’t think I’m physically able to feel the emotion of joy or contentedness any longer; it hasn’t been there for so long now, I’m beginning to think that it’ll never come back. 

I have issues with depression and anxiety, I have two personality disorders and issues with disassociation. I can just about manage to get by usually - or I used to. Sure, I had to take each day as it came and not plan for anything jus tin case one aspect of it was particularly bad but - I never thought it would get as bad as it is now. 

My mom has Mixed Personality Disorder - not to be confused with multiple personality disorder. She used to be so loving and caring, and have the odd hiccup. Now it is 99% nastiness, gaslighting, emotional and mental abuse. All day, every day. She sleeps (or just lies in bed) 20 hours a day, purposely doesn’t eat, purposely doesn’t take her medication (Chronic Pain) - she texts and texts and messages constantly about my failures, what’s wrong with everything around us, what I could have done better - nitpick and what I haven’t managed to do. 

And fuck, does it wear you down. It starts off a little bit at a time and then more and more wears away. 

I have to hide any symptoms to do with my issues because it make’s moms reactions worse. I have to bury all of it just to try and function to the degree in which she thinks I should, so it causes less conflict. But I cant. No matter how hard I try, it is always out of reach. I could win the lottery and give it all to her, but I would be bad because I should have done it sooner. 

My sister is having a lot of problems with her college. They’ve been given enough work to cover eight hours a day, while still being expected to attend college certain days a week (they’re ignoring the time it takes to travel there) and have more being given soon. She’s painfully stressed, can’t find the time to do it while having to run all the errands mom should be helping with as well as coping with all of the stress at home. I’m surprised she hasn’t broken yet.

I think I’ve had another breakdown. I’m almost sure of it. But it doesn’t matter - I get one mental health appointment per two months and even then I just get told how to think for half and hour and let go. Nothing else. No help. Nothing. 

Since we moved, it was meant to be a fresh start - but every day has been worse and worse, every moment less bearable than the last. All of this shit has made me resent the new house because all I have done here is suffer more and more. 

I’m suicidal; not actively, more passively. If I was crossing a road and there was a bus coming, I don’t think I would speed up to get out of the way. 

I can’t leave my sister in all of this shit. I can’t talk to my other half about it all because he just gets angry and mom and quite frankly that doesn’t help anyone or anything. My nan is too old to be dealing with this bullshit and the mental health services are stretched and strained as it is, I can’t get any help no matter how hard I try. 

I’m stuck in this repeating circle of hell. Around and around we go, more suffering with each turn. 

Funnily enough Mom had asked for help on the crisis line a few weeks ago - she basically got told that she wasn’t a priority and the phone got put down. They don’t understand how long it took to get her to call, months - and it could have offered hope that if she got help and learned to control her anger there might be hope for the rest of us... but no. The phonecall lasted less than two minutes. Forgotten again. 

There’s only so much abuse anyone can take; nothing would have gotten this far if she had been given the help she needed in the first place. Maybe we would have been much happier by now. 

I’m scared my sister will give up and end up a waste of air, like me. A failure. She deserves so much better. She deserves her qualification, she deserves to go to university and get out of this shit. I want her to live a fulfilling life - I didn’t get to. I’m too mentally fucked, now, to achieve anything. But she still has hope. I want her to succeed; but how can you when your mother is so damn manipulative, abusive, toxic? 

I’ve got no fight left in me. Each and every day is more of a struggle.

I used to like playing video games, but mom had this huge argument about it. Now I feel horrendous, debilitating guilt every time I try and boot one up. How dare I do that when I could be doing a thousand other things to help her. 

I’m struggling to write - because I can barely think straight as it is. I can’t watch TV because unless it is on mute she will convince you she can hear it and how fucking dare I disturb her while she sleeps through the day! So I’m paranoid every time I make a single sound.

I’m struggling. 

With how low finding is towards mental health services, its no wonder suicide rates are up. 

[domzalski-blog1]

💖- A memory that made them feel special

It was just another typical day for the young Tobias. Absolutely everything was the same as usual.

The same old charming  nicknames on the occasion somebody decided (or had to) speak to him.The same old eye-rolls when he tried himself.The same old hole burnt into his pocket in order to roam the halls without being stuffed into a locker.The same old still being stuffed into a locker anyways.Even Jim seemed to be acting like his typical self - not that there was anything wrong with that.  It was just a bit disappointing that even he too seemed to forget that today was his day. Jim didn’t even seem to react much when he had pulled out two crisp burrito supremes that Toby had managed to save from the night before. There was no sense in wasting them so early, no. He wanted to save the newest invention that his favorite truck had graced the world with for today and today alone.

He wanted to say something about it all as they made their way back home after the day had finally ended, but he didn’t want to impose or seem like a whiny nuisence. It’s not like the occasion actually mattered that much anyways. It never really had.

As the boys approached the street where they tended to part ways, Jim would finally pipe down about last night’s Cyborg Dino Cop’s episode - a weird subject considering he didn’t think Jim to be one to still watch it. Really, they were how old now? 

“Hey man, can I stop in for a few? I gotta do something real quick.”“What? At my place?”“Yeah.”“What’s at my place?”“Your Grandma’s hundred cats?”

Toby couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Jim’s obvious joke.

“No seriously man, what?”“Your Nan’ called my mom earlier and apparently needs me to grab something for her. It’d be faster for me to just swing by than have you drop it off in the morning.”

“…okay.”

What was Nana doing? Giving Jim’s mom a cat or something? All Toby could do was shrug just once as he kicked his bike off to head home - letting Jim trail behind him for the first time in what felt like ever. The rest of the five or so minute ride to his place was oddly silent, but considering his annoyance towards what was supposed to be his best friend….he preferred it that way. Maybe - just maybe - there’d be some sort of surprise party waiting for him or something. That’d actually be pretty  damn cool.

Still, as they creeped inside and he called out to Nana to announce they were home - nothing happened.Nana wasn’t even home. Perhaps he shouldn’t have expected anything. It was really damn hard to be disappointed if there was nothing to be disappointed about in the first place, but as he watched Jim search through the living room for whatever the hell it was he was looking for, he couldn’t help but feel a slight sense of betrayal. Did Jim not care or something? Did he just honestly forget? Maybe he couldn’t blame him considering he never really brought it up, but still…“Ey, Jimbo. I’m just gonna be in my room. I got homework to do and stuff.”“Alright man, I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”And that was that.As he set aside his backpack, Toby would collapse onto his bed and fight to just not be as upset as he was. There wasn’t a point in thinking about why everybody forgot - just that it had happened. It wasn’t like it had been like this until Jim showed up before, but now Jim too? What was going on? Was he really that uncool or something? Was he a bad friend? What did he do to deserve this? Stuffing his face into his pillow, Toby would cry.It wasn’t until he heard a knock upon his door that he’d choke himself and instantly wipe the wet from his face in an attempt to hide his misery from whoever needed him.“Yo Tobes. I found the thing. Can I come in?”A pause before Toby would allow it. He was hesitant, but he’d sink himself in front of the TV and flick it on as Jim cozied up beside him. He was beaming for some reason - and that reason became rather obvious the moment Toby finally decided to do more than just glance at the package he was holding in his lap.It was wrapped far too neatly for anything Nana to have done. There was no way that she’d be able to get that bow wrapped around the entire package, no. She usually just used one of those stick on bows from the dollar store. This was Jim’s work. There was no denying it.Wiping his face once more, he would slowly crack a smile as the realization began to settle in. Without a word, Jim would place the rather heavy box onto Toby’s lap before giving the flab above his ribs a quick jab of the elbow. Normally there’d be a protest about Jim’s stupid ignore Toby antics through the whole day, but this could be forgivable. Na, it was already. He did remember - and that’s all that actually mattered…even if there was still enough salt levels to season a month’s worth of fries left in Toby’s system. 

“Come on man, open it up.” Jim would demand as the ribbon was already being ripped off. He needed no prompting - a present was a present, and a present from Jim was going to be awesome no matter what it was. Even a pair of socks would be…pretty lame actually, but at least it was something. But it wasn’t no pair of socks.He knew exactly what Jim had gotten him the moment he saw that sleek black packaging under the torn wrapping paper.“A Gamestation 2?!” Toby screeched as he struggled to breathe from sheer excitement, “Dude, this thing’s like two-hundred dollars! Are you nuts?!”“Maybe, but it’s not just from me. It was just my idea. Your Grandma and my mom chipped in a bit too. You deserve this, buddy.”“OH. MY. GOD.”His tears shifted into those of pure absolute bliss as he continued to ravage the packaging, taking the game system out from it’s box as he basked in the smooth shiny packaging. As he grinned at Jim and shook the box gently to show off what he had gotten, Jim held up two game disks in his hand with the same excited expression slapped upon his stupid mug. It was a mutual feeling - they could both technically use the console, but that was exactly why Toby had lusted after it since last year. “Lets order in some pizza while your Nan’ makes your cake, yeah?”“Oh hell yeah.” 

[lyrieux-blog]

23/07/55

In truth it has been quite the wild week; so much has been happening all at once that it’s been a struggle to keep up not only physically but mentally as well. Acceptance has weighed heavily on my mind since speaking with Fran last Monday – and the night after the appointment I simply lay on my bed for a few hours, quietly, just staring up toward the ceiling, overwhelmed with anxiety, simply thinking about it and not doing anything else. It was something that was occurring, something I just had to let run its course for a time. It was while thinking about it that I got onto the subject of why it might have been occurring and I was not lying when I said that nothing in my environment had changed, none of my routines had changed, nothing had happened to trigger such an intense anxiety of which indeed, lasted a number of days after such appointment. And then it clicked! A few days prior, at my doctor’s appointment, my contraceptive pill got changed. (I don’t entirely know why.) I was told that it was exactly the same, just under a different name and so I presumed that the one I took before had been discontinued. Regardless, I took it as I would normally and that is when my severe anxiety started. It didn’t make any sense; I was told they were exactly the same, just under a different name, but this was largely untrue. I did some research; and while the active ingredient is indeed the same, that of which makes up the rest of the pill couldn’t be any different. Something in those ingredients was triggering my anxiety; I was certain of it. And upon talking to a close friend of mine she confirmed that it was more than likely polyethylene glycol, something of which was banned for use in medication in the USA because of its high risk of side effects. So, mom made me an appointment to talk to the doctor, over the phone, about it and the possibility of switching back to my old pill; I was sick of the crippling anxiety, the horrible stomach pains, the dizziness, the uneasiness. The first doctor mom spoke to (since I could barely do anything) basically put it down to me being crazy. I’m not joking; he said I was hallucinating my symptoms, that he could see I have mental health issues and that I was just looking for something to blame them on. Obviously, this set off my paranoia and I could barely be spoken to, I was inconsolable. She then called again, made an appointment to see a doctor because by this point she was concerned that I was in crisis. The doctor I saw listened less than the first but was in the least willing to give me three months’ worth of my old pill “just to see”. And, obviously, if nothing changed then to go and see my normal doctor. Within two days, the anxiety was gone, and I was feeling far better. But instead of being relieved, I’m wondering if it was actually the medication, or if it was just my head disliking the change. I’ve not been bothered about the change of medication before – so I’m inclined to believe that I was right! But at the same time, I’m now doubting everything I think; what if I am more messed up in the head than I realise. I probably am. Regardless – I spoke to my mom about the possibility of having some kind of Support worker; mentioned by Fran; and she was quite openly happy about the idea… and so am I. Not only would it help me – but it would also take pressure off of the rest of the family; it’s not fair for them to keep having to look after me and if that pressure could be lifted, even just a little bit, would probably help relationships at home, too.    

Speaking of mom – she has been rather ill for the past few days and at one point we thought she may have Viral Meningitis; and almost called an ambulance; but she improved. She hasn’t been able to do anything; terrible headaches, sore throat, vomiting. So I’ve been having to do everything around the house and in honesty, it has been nothing short of exhausting. I’m beyond tired, I haven’t been sleeping well. You know – it’s quite horrible being me at the moment; my head is just a hostile place.  I’ve noticed that I’ve been more paranoid. I walked to the shop (literally just up the road) yesterday with my sister in tow and I was intensely conscious of everyone around me; there was one fellow in the shop, perfectly innocent, of whom I was convened was going to follow me home and potentially hurt me. And that is becoming more of a regular occurrence; I had a little bit of paranoia anyway, but it’s getting more intrusive now; even at home with those I love. Yesterday, my Nan was over helping to cook something to eat and I was certain she was watching everything I was doing because she didn’t trust me to look after mom. She was. I was also invited out with Mike to one of his friends birthday celebrations and immediately did I panic because I do not like social situations like that. They make me feel on the spot, like everyone is watching me, like I’m going to make an absolute fool of myself. I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of people I don’t know! So I said to Mike that I probably wouldn’t go because I would be quite uncomfortable; and he said jokingly, that I am always uncomfortable. And that hurt! I’m so oversensitive to things like that; criticism and things of the sort; but I know he didn’t mean it in a hurtful way. I have also been thinking about how dependant I am on my mom; at first I thought it was just because it’s nice to have support and things through everything I do but then I came to realise, just the other day, how really, really dependant I am. I can’t function without help; I can’t make decisions on my own most of the time, I am petrified of being left to fend for myself if anything happened to mom and indeed, perhaps that is why my anxiety the last few days has been so high because mom has been ill and unable to do anything. I’m really passive as a person and I find it difficult to made decisions and things of that kind… Without mom basically guiding me, I really don’t think I would function at all. It’s been a nightmare the past few days, I’ve been really struggling to just… do things. If it wasn’t for my sister sort of… pointing things out that needed to be done… I don’t know. It’s been playing on my mind a hell of a lot and it’s just been bringing up feelings of being useless and inferior.

And I had this weird experience this morning; I was lay in bed, willing myself to get up when I heard the TV playing in the living room; my bedroom is right off from the living room so it was really easy to hear. It was the weather forecast saying how it was going to be hot and that there wasn’t much chance of rain, that the hot weather was going to continue; I heard all of it and it actually annoyed me that someone would have the TV loud enough, that early in the morning, for me to hear. So I got up in a bit of a huff, pulled my door open and the Tv wasn’t even on. Nobody else was awake yet. I felt so confused and uncomfortable and for a few moments, I just stared at the black tv screen, feeling like a thousand eyes were locked upon me, judging me. I’ve not felt that horrible since I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognise myself. I’m also massively stressed at the moment because I have so very much going on this week; I have Rowan house and a doctors appointment today; tomorrow I have my piano lesson and I have done no practice at all because I’ve been distracted by other things and have lacked the motivation but at the same time I’m petrified of being awful and not having progressed at all; Wednesday would have been my oldest cat’s birthday had she still been here. Thursday is the day I am dreading the most; I have my PIP (Personal Independence Payment) tribunal that I have to go to. I remember going through all the forms with mom about how much help I need to stay safe and all of that jazz; and they didn’t consider any of it. The woman that came to the house to assess me deemed me perfectly able to do everything by myself just because I gave the cat a fuss while she was here. Even though I couldn’t look at her, sit near her, talk to her properly; I was riddled with anxiety and near vomiting. They demand evidence but besides the bits we have already given them, I don’t have anything more; mom says it’s all going to go fine and not to worry and if I have a bit of a “spazz” on the day then that would help to prove how I am. But I am losing sleep over thinking about it; it’s driving me insane. And if we don’t get it? Then the past 18 months of struggle to try will be completely in vain and all of that stress and discomfort and worry and fear would have just been for nothing. I’m scared; it’s a huge worry for me. I can’t even be left in the kitchen on my own to cook something in the microwave because I often disassociate and then accidentally drop something hot, or burn myself, or something of the kind.  

I don’t know – I’m just tired. I’m fed up. I’ve had enough; my head won’t shut off, it won’t stop tossing a thousand thoughts at me all at once and overwhelming me. Why do I look into everything too much? It’s automatic, I can’t help it. And when asked questions – even as simple as “how are you?” I freeze; I can’t think, I find it hard to come up with an answer. Blank. What if I say something wrong? What if I say something completely irrelevant? I don’t know.

[everlark-lover3892]

Chapter Four- The Night

“My husband and I got pregnant on the first night that we got reaped” so I was forced to try and go to a family thing at Peeta’s and if I’m completely honest… I’m hating it right now, I’m sourrounded by pregnant women and some that already have children talk about how well they’ve obeyed the law… I could give two craps about what it was like, this just makes me feel beyond uncomfortable

“What about you Katniss? I hear my cousin just adores you” Peeta’s cousin asks

“Um, I’m not pregnant yet, were kind of taking it slow… instead of getting straight into it” I reply

“Really? Well, will we be expecting a new family member anytime soon?” She asks but I just shrug, they all send me weird looks before they continue their conversation about what gender they’re having or names for the ones who aren’t that far along, I stand up and walk around the very fancy home and find Peeta talking with his brothers so I choose not to disturb him and go outside the front porch and watch the rain fall

“Not enjoying the party?” I hear next to me and there Peeta’s dad sits in a wooden porch chair

“Care to join me?” He asks, I decide not to refuse his offer and sit in the chair next to me

“I love this weather. Helping dead grass grow again, grows our farmers crops” he sighs

“Not for hunters. All the animals are hiding which makes it harder for us” I admit

“Indeed but what you need to remember is hunting isn’t something you should be doing everyday, our animals need time to reproduce, give off offspring. In every animal there is a life worth living” he replies

“So you like hunting?” He asks me

“I love it, not the killing aspect of it, the being able to spread your wings, when I’m hunting I feel like I’m someone different. I feel so free when I’m hunting” I smile and he chuckles

“That’s how my Peeta feels about his painting. When he was just a boy he would draw the most… detailed drawings, I mean it wasn’t like Leonardo Da Vinci but it was impressive for a little boy, Peeta is a unique boy, I’m proud that he’s my son” he explains and I give a small smile

“Everyone’s expecting us to have a baby soon…”

“That’s because no one wants the Mellark blood to disappear” he says rolling his eyes and drinking his drink

“Ever since Peeta was born his mother vowed that this child should do no wrong, her sons not having children is a wrong” he adds

“Why aren’t you rushing us then?” I ask

“Because the beauty of life needs to make its own path” he replies

“Thank you. It was getting to me until we had this little talk” I smile and he does too

“No need to thank darling. Your part of the family now, I’ve got you through this whole thing” he smiles at me, I see where Peeta got his personality from.

*

*

*

I watch as Peeta paints, no one was able to go to work due to the storm so Peeta and I have been cooped up in our home, we’ve been too busy to actually have sex but my sexualness towards him is getting too much for me. I stand from where I was sitting and walk up behind Peeta then I start kissing his neck

“Katniss… I can’t concentrate when your doing that” he sighs

“Make love to me” I whisper in his ear, he turns on the stool he was sitting on and pulls me into his lap

“Your sure? We can still wait i—” but I cut him off by kissing him, carefully he lifts me and carries me to our room as we continue to kiss, he lays me on our bed then takes off his shirt and this is actually the first time I’ve seen him without a shirt and I never thought he was that in shape, my hands slide up from his stomach and on his chest, I decide to get rid of my shirt so we can keep kissing, I feel so exposed and shy once it’s off as he looks at me but it’s all forgotten when we start kissing again, I run my hands through his hair as he kisses down my neck and further I let out sounds that I didn’t know I could make, he takes off my sweatpants which leaves me in just my underwear

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” He whispers on my lips and I nod

“Well your beautiful, I-I love you” he replies which makes me smile

“I love you too, more than you think” I tell him and pull his head down so we can kiss again, he reaches his hands behind me and unclips my bra then throws that across the room, he’s mouth covers one of my breasts while he massages the other, I moan out in pleasure, struggling to contain myself, so this is what this feels like…. I like it, no, I love it. While he does that I take his pants off and rub his bulge from his boxers causing him to bite down in pleasure, as I keep rubbing him, he continues to kiss down all the way to my panties

“Peeta… I can’t wait any longer” I moan, he then gets rid of them right away, he takes his time as he looks at my naked body before taking his boxers off, I take this chance to look at him naked before he starts kissing me again

“If it hurts too much… just tell me okay?” He says against my lips and I nod, I then feel him enter me, I grip the bed sheets trying to get use to the uncomfortable feeling, I mean yeah it hurts but not as much as I thought

“You okay?” He asks

“Yeah… just give me a minute” I reply, after I give the okay he slowly and softly starts thrusting, by the middle of it he’s picked up the pace and I’m screaming out his name

“Oh Peeta!” I scream and I feel myself shake as I finish but continue to moan in pleasure as Peeta continues his thrusts but soon he lets go inside me, he pulls out and collapses next to me, we both try to regain our breaths as we hear the raindrops hitting the window

“I… wow” he pants

“I never thought it’d feel like that” I say

“Me neither” he replies, I cuddle up to him with a tired but happy sigh, my eyes slowly start to close and the last thing I hear is Peeta telling me that he loves me before I fall completely asleep, having a nice dream for once.

*

*

*

I wake up and notice I’m in bed alone, I look next to me and see that Peeta’s gone but a delicious smell is all I can smell. I get up out of bed but as I stand I can feel the pain between my legs but I actually smile as I just remember what happened between Peeta and I, I put on some new underwear and just put Peeta’s shirt over me, I walk downstairs but as I do I can hear other voices coming from the living room but as I walk in my eyes grow wide… Peeta’s grandparents are here! I thought they weren’t coming till next week!

“Katniss. Your awake” Peeta says giving me a sorry look, he better because both of his grandparents see a girl they’ve never met before wearing their baby grandsons shirt, what else would that give off?!

“So this is Katniss? Why is she wearing your shirt, darling?” His grandmother asks

“Oh! Well I was teaching her to paint earlier and let’s just say she’s a really messy painter” Peeta chuckles but I still give him a death glare from behind his grandparents

“Will you excuse us for a moment” he smiles and we walk upstairs to our bedroom

“What the hell Peeta?!” I whisper/yell at him

“I’m sorry! They just showed up” he replies in defence

“A heads up would’ve been nice. Like maybe waking me up and say ‘oh Katniss my grandparents are here don’t dress like we literally just had sex’ that would’ve definitely be nice” I snap at him

“I know! I’m sorry but it’s not my fault that they came so soon! You looked too peaceful to wake up” he sighs and I immediately feel bad

“I’m sorry… I just panicked because I wanted their first impression of me perfect” I sigh

“Katniss. You don’t need to impress anyone, I love you and that’s all that matters. How about you get dressed and we’ll have dinner, forget this al, happened. Yeah?” He replies rubbing my shoulders and I nod, he kisses my forehead then walks out, I take my time redressing and I redo my braid as I walk down the stairs, I join Peeta and his grandparents in the kitchen so we can start dinner, of course they had to be his moms parents, which makes everything so much harder because they’re both fancy and eats eligantly and dress like it too

“So, I hear that you hunt as a job Katniss?” His grandmother Violet asks

“Um yes, I only hunt once every three weeks, I teach it to ages 12-17, for the ones who enjoy it of course”

“Katniss is one of the most impressive archer there is around here” Peeta proudly states

“Well where we live our hunters are all men, the jobs us women have is baking or a receptionist”

“But you live in the rich part of this country, Nan. Girls are able to hunt here” Peeta defends

“I know that but women are not meant to have men jobs”

“Why not? I mean what law says that we’re not meant to have jobs that only associate with men? You know the world doesn’t work like that. You can’t tell me what I do for a living is only for men because I love your grandson and like most people like you he likes me for who I am not by the job I have” I put her in her place and of course she doesn’t like it so she leaves with her husband, for a moment I feel like I’ve upset Peeta but I just hear him start laughing

“Oh my god that was amazing! This is why I love you, you’re not afraid to stand up for yourself” he smiles and I do too

“So you’re not mad?” I ask

“Oh god no! I’m proud that you’re my wife that’s for sure” he chuckles, I never thought that I’d like to be married this much but I do.

[gwassysworld-blog]

every time things are looking up.. the bottom drops out.. or the legs..

My dad found this house a few cities over. small, 3 bedroom, but a lot of land, and good schools..  My baby sister graduated college and she moved with us. I got some tax money and with child support was able to get a car and was back working. It was a really tight fit in the house.. but unfortunanetly it didn't last long. My Pap got really sick. he had been fighting cancer for about 15 years on and off.. cancer in his bones that he got from back when he was in the Marines corps. Something about tainted water at Camp Laguene. Well the VA hospitals were taking care of him and did a good job.. But the last time the cancer came back he was done fighting.. he didn't even tell anyone. We went over to the house one day for his birthday and he was laying face down on the couch in excrutiating pain. My dad and his brother kept saying how they wanted to get him to the hospital and my Nan was yelling but we didn't even do cake yet, we have to do cake. They took him to the hospital and he never made it home for cake. He died a few days later. We found out afterwards that it was because the cancer had come back and he had known for some months now. My mom and dad quickly moved into my Nans big house, the house I grew up in when i was very little.. to help her with the up keep and the property. Which left Me and my youngest sister and the kids with the house. My mom and dad were living at Nans rent free so he continued to pay the rent on the house we were living. Gave us a year and told us to both basically save enough to get on our feet when the lease was up. my dad can be a freakin ass hole .. but this wasn't the first of the last he has gone above to make sure me and my kids had a house. He has always tried to do for us.. he just didn't do so well showing love.. it was just his way.

I hussled that year. I was working for a company cleaning houses, had a side business cleaning houses, worked part time at a gas station, was doing paperwork for some crazy cat guy who owned a limo company. L was set up in a great daycare/ preschool and T was in a great school system that i was finally able to get him a 504 to be able to help in his classes. The kid was smart but his organization and ability to pay attention in the class wasn't there.. no other school was helping him and compaired to what he got on state tests and what he got in the  class grade wise didn't match up at all. now i say this 504 helped.. but its been a struggle every year since. but never the less we were pushing thru.. but my health was getting worse and worse. My legs were killing me and if i was working, even between jobs, all my body wanted to do was sleep.

That year went very quickly and it was time for me to pay my own way. We found our own 3 bedroom house in a different city and we were moving again. My youngest sister did some house hopping with different relatives until she ended up in her own apartment and she to is doing very well now! The first few months in the new house went great. I was being a mom on my own. And then one day i went to bed and woke up in the middle of the night with the worst pain in my leg ever. It cramped up so badly it felt like someone was smashing it with a brick.. and it didn't go away.. finaly after a few days i went to the drs. they ran some tests and realized that my body was releasing to many enzimes and my organs were being effected. so i was hospitalized for a few days.. after i rested and they got things under control they sent me home to do in home physical therapy and i had a walker. the pain did not subside in my leg and i could not bear any weight on it... so so much for cleaning houses.. or doing anything really.. but i kept pushing.. i had kids to raise.. i pushed and i pushed and i pushed myself right back into the hospital. this time both my legs were effected and i could barely walk. After a lot of testing this time they figured out that I had a form of muscular dystrophy. that i had it my whole life and that the issues got worse over time. all my cramp cramp cramping wasn't just growing pains as dismissed as before. the over use of my muscles causes muscle waisting. so the more movement i do the more damage i cause. and the repair process takes a lot longer of a time. After this time i the hospital they could not just sent me home to be in my own house with my kids. I was in a wheel chair and needed intense physical and occupational therapy. I had to go to in inpatient rehab facility .. aka a nursing home. and my kids were back living with my parents for a few months..

This nursing home was a nightmare. I arrived late in the evening via ambulance, and they rolled me thru the freak show all started to pop their heads out of their doors. this wasn't a normal nursing home, this was a state ran facility for people who received government assistance.. most were homeless with medical or mental issues and were not elderly at all.. they put me in my room and gave me my nightly meds. a crazy cocktail of morphine, percosets, and oxycoton and told me to have a nice night.. the first night was not a nice night at all.. i cried in bed all night as i heard the screams of other patients.. huge different than being in a normal hospital... and just the how the hell did i get here feeling.. why now?

I ended up staying there for a month or so and saw a lot of things that were ridiculous. they kept all the patients drugged so that they could not get better and would have to stay. it was a guaranteed pay check for the facility since they were getting government payments. ANd the people who were there were either to in educated or week willed to be able to care.. and honestly it wouldn't of mattered to most of them because they had no where else to go. But i did.. I had a home and I had 2 little kids.. and I needed to get back to them. I pushed and fought the whole way.. everything from them only wanting me to be able to shower once a week, to getting the dr to lower my meds. I was supposed to have therapy 3 times a day, they only waned to do it once.. There was a time when i needed assistance in my room and had pushed the button for a nurse.. 45 minutes went by.. finally a nurse showed up and i asked him what would of happened if i had fallen and got hurt.. and it took him 45 minutes to get to my room.. he said well hopefully u would of just laid there.. right like there would be other options.. I couldn't take it in there and they were not doing anything for me that i couldn't do at home. They wanted me there for 6 months.. after a little over a month i signed myself out, took my wheel chair and went home. ill figure it out.. i always have.. and i did. when i got home i was using the wheel chair but the pain in my legs was subsiding enough that i could also use a walker. and while i was in the nursing home i had a visit from an old friend who had this great plan. Him and his wife, 3 kids were about to be evicted from their home.. they could come stay with me for a few months to help around the house, pay me a little bit a month in rent and save so they could get a place.. i figured i need as much help as i could and until my disability money kicked in that would be a great idea. i had the space. and i needed the help. perfect. back home i went!

[lyrieux-blog]

16/07/2018

I’ve not much time before I have to leave for my appointment at Rowan house - but I felt the need to document everything going through my head this morning, especially since my trek to my appointment is actually going to be on my own this morning. Why? Mom truly is not well; she’s in a lot of pain, she can barely keep her eyes open because she scarcely slept and she just doesn’t have the energy. She offered to ask my uncle to come with me but honestly, that’s a fruitless idea; he won’t be awake until past 1pm and I’m just not comfortable around him. I don’t know what it is - he hasn’t done anything in particular - he just seems very weird at the moment. Besides; he always huffs and puffs and whines about having to walk me anywhere so it only makes me feel even more of a burden. I woke with the most horrendous anxiety again: I’m beginning to think I’ve fallen into the routine I had years back when I was really unwell in my head; constantly, cripplingly depressed, barely wanting to get out of bed; always met with anxiety that near enough killed me every morning, of which would last all day, every day. My medication isn’t even taking the edge off any longer. I’m just left at it’s mercy and no matter what I attempt to fight it with, it always wins. I have this vulgar stomach ache which has not left since my huge panic attack last week; and this constant discomfort generally inside my person is ludicrous. I’m barely able to eat because of it; I have absolutely no appetite and when I smell my sister or mom cooking something, it legitimately makes me want to gag and vomit - my stomach just can’t take it. I just want to sleep - because when I sleep there are no arguments in the house, there is no pressure to pretend I’m alright, there isn’t any utterly crippling anxiety, there isn’t any nasty thoughts. In truth, I am dreading walking to Rowan house on my own - not just because of the anxiety I get, at the moment, just thinking about going outside but also because of the distance it is and the fact that when I am stressed, I disassociate and don’t exactly think. I’m well known for crossing roads without so much as looking and usually the potential that I could get accidentally hit by something would concern and frighten me but lately - the complete opposite. I would be glad to be hit by something because I’m struggling to cope. My head doesn’t feel like it is mine at all; I’m being ruled by invasive thoughts, I cant battle any of it away. Anxiety is just killing me, my depressive phase is making me scarcely functional; I get agitated and angry in the drop of a hat if someone wants to talk to me or interact - I just want to be isolated. I barely know what to do with myself. I can’t think straight. I just want this suffering to end and at the moment... I’m not entirely sure that I care how. I’m living my life in a constant state of distress and there is only so much I can take  before I snap. I was so very close to hurting myself last night - the only reason I didn’t was that I was so cripplingly tired that I just failed to have the energy to.  I’m not coping! I’m not! I cant cope with these levels of anxiety, I’m sick to death of being mentally broken, I’m having to battle away suicidal thoughts; they are so intrusive. I’m tired. I’m exhausted. I’m paranoid! I’m convinced everyone is watching me, judging me; I’m convinced mom is taking about me behind my back, to nan; turning her against me just like she tried to do with everyone looking at Phil.  I’m not stable. I am not stable.  None of my medication is doing anything useful! And no matter how many times I mention it, nothing gets done! I know its not going to solve everything but it took the edge off once upon a time but my anti-depressant isn’t doing anything because I am chronically depressed and my anti-anxiety medication might as well be made of sugar! I can’t cope with it. Why is nothing helping? Why am I stuck in this circle? Why does nothing ever go right? Why is everything spiralling down again? Am I meant to fail? Am I supposed to just go with it? I can’t do anything except go with it at the moment. I can’t fight it. It’s all too strong.