#but that's cause of not being able to afford antibiotics

[tucsonhorse]

All table salt in the US is iodized (you may have noticed that on the label and probably just ignored it), but it wasn't always. It began to be a thing because of a lot of problems with iodine deficiency in the US population and it is a pretty ubiquitous condiment and takes iodine well without changing the flavor or general chemical properties.

There was a TikTok post about an advertisement for “blood-making pills for weak women” someone found in a newspaper from the 1890s and everybody seemed to think it was just an example of the weird misogyny of the day and age but no. Anemia was a massive public health concern. It always has been through history but part of the reason we have this idea of old timey women thought history being physical weak, chronically cold and pale and fainting is because they often they were. Anemia was also a massive problem for men in that day but even now it disproportionally affects people who menstruate. So tonics full of stimulants and “healthful vitamins” were marketed at young women in pages upon pages of advertisements in every newspaper. People generally felt like shit all the time back then.

[detentiontrack]

what is PANDAS? /gq

This is a very long infodump but here’s my story!

It stands for Pediatric Autoimmune Neuropsychiatric Disorders Associated with Streptococcal Infections! Basically when I was 10, I got a normal case of strep throat. The same kind that every kid gets in childhood. I got on antibiotics and felt better, but overnight (literally overnight. I was completely fine the night before and then it started February 22nd 2016) I started having SEVERE. OCD and anxiety symptoms. It was debilitating. I couldn’t eat, sleep, or function. I was having panic attacks, constant obsessions and compulsions, terrifying intrusive thoughts, and hallucinations. I also started developing tics. I was 10 and it happened overnight, so it wasn’t likely obsessive compulsive disorder or Tourette’s, especially because I didn’t have a family history of those things.

After multiple doctors, a nurse practitioner finally thought to test me for strep antibodies and it was positive. I got started on high dose antibiotics that destroyed my teeth and digestive system, but after 11 months I was still getting strep throat every other week, which would cause me to flare.

At 11, I got my tonsils out, and it helped a bit, but then I started losing function in other areas. At that point, it had spread to my entire brain and it turned into severe encephalitis. I had constant violent tics, debilitating mental illness symptoms, and I was losing the ability to walk and talk. The right side of my body was completely useless and the left side wasn’t much better. I couldn’t talk without a stutter, aphasia, and forgetting how to speak.

At age 12, I got my first bought of IVIG, which helped a little bit, but unfortunately we had shitty health insurance at the time and they wouldn’t cover any more even though I was getting worse by the day. At this point we didn’t know I had encephalitis, we thought I only had PANDAS and PANDAS wouldn’t cause that severe of a reaction on its own. So it was extremely scary. They were testing me for everything they knew, but encephalitis, especially in kids that young, wasn’t super well researched at the time. I had countless tests and everything was coming back “clean”.

Eventually, my mom and I went to every doctor in California that would see us. Even the ones not covered by insurance. At 12, since we saw every neurologist and rheumatologist that would see me in our state, we went to Arizona to see a PANDAS specialist. She recommended me a lot of herbal medications that kept me alive and helped a lot, but since she was in a different state, she couldn’t prescribe any actual medication. But those herbal medications kept me going long enough. That’s when we found out I also had fibromyalgia and my thyroid had failed as a side effect of the encephalitis.

When I was 13, I saw a doctor who diagnosed me with POTS, prescribed me POTS medication, and did a lot of tests to try and find out WHY I was losing the ability to walk and talk. She did a nerve conduction test, MRIs, CTs, and a test where they removed huge chunks of my flesh and tested the nerves (idk what it was called?) however there was no baseline for someone my age for any of the things she was testing for, so we only had a set baseline for if things got worse.

When I was 13, almost 14, I couldn’t walk or stand without a cane, even with a cane I couldn’t walk for very long, and I was very nearly at the point where I needed a wheelchair full time. My speech and tics were terrible, I remember barely even being able to think or process what was happening because the brain inflammation was so severe. I FINALLY got in with a rheumatologist at UCLA who specialized in PANDAS, and he finally was able to get insurance to pay for a years worth of IVIG.

I was on high dose IVIG for a year, and it saved my life. Very slowly, I got better. My OCD stopped, I could talk again, my tics stopped, and I very slowly got back feeling in my body. I couldn’t afford speech therapy or physical therapy at the time, so I had to teach myself how to walk and talk again. 5 years later, I have 100% feeling and function in my right arm, and I can feel most of my right leg, except for my foot and random patches on my thigh and calf. I talk fine most of the time, but if I’m tired, I’ll start slurring my words and occasionally words for things will just. Slip out of my brain and I can’t remember them so I have to improvise. (Yesterday the word for pencil disappeared from my brain so I asked my sister for “the thing that’s like a pen but is gray and you can erase it”)

[callistosystems]

Severe tooth decay, Call for help.

Over the past several years I've had to deal with steadily worsening tooth decay and tooth damage. I live and grew up in poverty and haven't had dental insurance for as long as I can remember, so I could never afford to get any of the problems fixed and they've piled up to the point where now I have no choice but to go for emergency dental work. The only thing that has stopped me up to this point was that I wasn't in pain. That's changed. Two of my more damaged teeth have become abscessed, and others are at risk. I'll go into more detail below but I would recommend avoiding that segment if you're squeamish about dental issues. I've been prescribed antibiotics and painkillers, and I'm going to have emergency dental work done. I'm looking at at least 3 pulled, more likely 4. I will stress: I DO NOT HAVE DENTAL INSURANCE. I will be forced to take this on as medical debt, while I'm unemployed and between concrete homes. I'm making the decision to ask for help if anyone is able to provide it. I'll be accepting donations to help put a dent in the bill, my paypal email is "Calabel831@gmail.com". Any amount helps, everything I receive will be used exclusively to reduce the bill I'll be forced to pay. If you have the time I would appreciate if you could reblog this to help get the word out. (CW: Tooth decay and Damage described in detail. Don't read past this point if that bothers you.) The full extent of the damage to my teeth is much more severe than a couple of infected ones, but for the most part it can be put off. Right now I'm worried about the ones that have broken or split open deeper than the enamel, exposing the inside of the tooth itself. I have three, possibly four teeth that are damaged to this extent. My upper right canine and upper right back molar are two of them. These two are the infected ones, and the ones causing me pain. My bottom back left molar is split open with half of the cap missing and the inside exposed, this one was broken by my wisdom tooth, both of which have fully grown in. It's probably at the greatest risk of infection out of the rest of my teeth. My upper back left molar is in a similar state, but not as damaged. Aside from those most of my front teeth are severely crooked and many of them have extreme enamel damage, one of them has lost it's entire front facing surface, and the inside of these teeth under the enamel has turned completely black. These will probably all either need to be pulled or require root canals for the ones I intend to keep, but that can wait just a bit longer until I'm in a better living situation. My upper canines, including the infected one, have been shunted up into and are sticking out of the front of my gums. Both are going to wind up being removed eventually, as well as my lower right canine which is severely decayed. My lower left is in decent shape and I'll probably be able to keep it. If there's any doubt or skepticism that this is as bad as it sounds, I would be more than happy to provide images if they're requested of me. I would ask that those stay private, I'm extremely self-conscious about this issue. TL;DR I need thousands of dollars worth of dental surgery. Some of it is severe enough to be threatening to my health or even life and I need help to pay for the medical bills.

[mapledental]

Professional Teeth Whitening vs. At-Home Teeth Whitening: Which is Right for You?

A bright, dazzling smile is often associated with good health, confidence, and vitality. However, over time, various factors can cause teeth to become discoloured, leading many people to seek out teeth-whitening solutions. In this blog, we'll delve into the causes of discoloured teeth, how teeth whitening works, its effectiveness, and the differences between professional teeth whitening and at-home teeth whitening options.

Causes of Discolored Teeth

Before diving into teeth whitening methods, it's essential to understand what causes teeth to become discoloured in the first place. Some common culprits include:

1. Staining Foods and Beverages: Coffee, tea, red wine, and certain fruits and vegetables contain pigments that can stain tooth enamel over time.

2. Tobacco Use: Smoking or chewing tobacco can lead to stubborn stains on teeth.

3. Poor Oral Hygiene: Inadequate brushing and flossing can allow plaque and tartar to build up, contributing to discolouration.

4. Aging: As we age, tooth enamel naturally wears down, revealing the yellowish dentin beneath.

5. Medications: Certain medications, such as tetracycline antibiotics, can cause teeth to darken or stain.

6. Genetics: Some people are genetically predisposed to having thicker or thinner enamel, which can affect tooth colour.

How Does Teeth Whitening Work?

Teeth whitening treatments aim to remove stains and discolouration from the enamel and dentin of teeth, restoring a brighter, whiter appearance. Most whitening products contain either hydrogen peroxide or carbamide peroxide as the active bleaching agent. These chemicals break down stains into smaller, less concentrated particles, making the teeth appear whiter.

Does Teeth Whitening Work on All Teeth?

While teeth whitening can effectively remove many types of stains, it may not be suitable for everyone or every type of discolouration. For example:

Yellow Teeth: Teeth that have yellowed due to ageing or surface stains typically respond well to whitening treatments.

Brown or Gray Teeth: Teeth with brown or grey discolouration, especially those caused by medications or trauma, may be less responsive to whitening and may require alternative treatments like veneers or bonding.

Dental Restorations: Teeth whitening treatments do not work on dental restorations such as fillings, crowns, or veneers. These materials do not respond to bleaching agents, so they may need to be replaced to match the newly whitened teeth.

 Teeth Whitening Options

When it comes to teeth whitening, there are two primary options available: professional teeth whitening and at-home teeth whitening kits.

Professional Teeth Whitening:

Performed by Dentists: Professional teeth whitening is typically performed by a dentist or dental hygienist in a dental office setting.

Stronger Bleaching Agents: Dentists use higher concentrations of bleaching agents than those found in over-the-counter products, allowing for more dramatic results.

Customized Treatment: Dentists can tailor the whitening treatment to the individual patient, taking into account factors such as tooth sensitivity and desired level of whitening.

Faster Results: Professional whitening treatments often yield faster results, with noticeable improvement after just one session.

At-Home Teeth Whitening:

Over-the-Counter Kits: At-home whitening kits are available at pharmacies and grocery stores and typically include whitening gels, strips, or trays.

ower Concentrations: These kits contain lower concentrations of bleaching agents compared to professional treatments, which may result in slower or less dramatic whitening.

Convenience: At-home whitening kits offer the convenience of being able to whiten your teeth on your schedule, without needing to visit a dentist's office.

Cost-Effective: At-home whitening kits are generally more affordable than professional treatments, making them a popular option for budget-conscious individuals.

Differences Between Professional Teeth Whitening and At-home Teeth Whitening

1. Effectiveness: Professional treatments tend to deliver faster and more dramatic results due to the use of higher concentrations of bleaching agents.

2. Customization: Professional whitening treatments are customized to each patient's needs, while at-home kits offer a one-size-fits-all approach.

3. Supervision: Professional whitening is performed under the supervision of a dental professional, ensuring safety and efficacy.

both professional teeth whitening and at-home whitening kits can effectively brighten your smile, but the best option for you will depend on your budget, desired level of whitening, and personal preferences. Consulting with a dentist can help you determine the most suitable whitening method for your individual needs. Remember, a radiant smile can boost your confidence and leave a lasting impression, so choose the option that works best for you and enjoy the benefits of a brighter, whiter smile!

Looking for professional teeth whitening solutions in Victorville, CA? Look no further than Maple Dental! Our experienced dentists in Victorville, CA, offer expert teeth whitening services to help you achieve a brighter, more radiant smile. With our personalized treatment plans and high-quality whitening products, you can enjoy fast and effective results. 

Say goodbye to stains and discoloration and hello to a confident smile! Contact Maple Dental today at 760-949-7274 to schedule your teeth whitening appointment with our skilled dentist in Victorville, CA. Your journey to a whiter smile starts here!

[mageofminge]

where i've been the past few months

just wanna say sorry i haven't been posting as much, for the past few months i've basically been dealing with at least 2 separate health conditions at a time and no matter how much i try i can never seem to get well again. its honestly just been taking a massive toll on my mental health and i haven't been able to do much other than get by on a daily basis.

i'm also just rlly angry rn bc i was always healthy before but my body's just been completely worn out from both studying and uni stress, as well as living in halls so grim people would regularly get food poisoning from the kitchens and not being able to afford to eat out. i just hate the people that made the kitchen grim by not knowing basic food hygiene, then refused to listen when i tried to explain that hey, you can't put raw meat on top of other people's vegetables, even if it is in packaging because, crazy idea, that packaging can in fact break causing raw meat juice to spill all over the veggies.

there's also the element of religion stuff in the sense that, there was this rlly holy day in my religion, but bc of the rest of my family not being particularly religious or almost wanting me to not be religious so they can hate on me, i didn't know it was the holy day until afterwards. and i uh. did something that was. a massive no-no. on the literal holiest day. in my religion. and then that combined with. all the health issues only happening after that. basically my brain is always now blaming me for causing those health issues by being reckless and doing a big nono. rather than double checking online bc i had heard it was the following day and so assumed that night was safe. and again this is completely illogical but because the timing lines up so well it keeps popping back in my head that i wouldn't be so sickly if i had observed that holy day properly.

oh and also finally i've been struggling with the public healthcare system a lot bc everyone ive seen has either refused fully comprehensive testing or just refused to test me at all (i assume to save money). only to waste more money by playing guesswork and prescribing me antibiotics i don't need (the antibiotic in question being FLUCLOXACILLIN for STAPH, which has A HIGH RATE OF ANTIBIOTIC RESISTANCE, caused by using them when not needed). oh and again waste money by me having to constantly come in for follow ups and follow ups because the one stool test they decided to run came back negative so why are you still ill.

and also throughout this whole illness my family has been pretty horrible. whenever i need to do smth bc im ill they always act like im a spoilt brat who's being a massive pain. as though them being mildly inconvenienced by my illness is a grave sin. like one time i got rlly bad food poisoning and had to throw up multiple times over the span of an hour. and then also had diarrhea that was so severe it was like i was shitting literal water. this was on holiday at like 3-4am. and then at like 8 after i had gone back to sleep for the time and woken up my family were all yelling at me telling me to be considerate and not be so loud at 3-4am. knowing. i had just. vomitted and shat my guts out. from food poisoning.

and with all that combined being ill just generally sucks. like the only person who actually is considerate and takes care of me is my bf. who ive tried to stay with as much as possible but its incredibly difficult bc my parents also randomly decide to have severe abandonment issues and act like im leaving a gaping hole in their lives every time im not at home. but then treat me like they strongly dislike me and im a massive inconvenience when i am home.

so yeah basically these past few months have just been me cosplaying as a sickly victorian child asking to be taken out to the garden one last time before the consumption sets in.

[twitchystitchwitch]

In the US Nationwide even offers insurance for pets besides dogs or cats. Out of my 5 animals that would be eligible for an insurance plan by species alone, 3 of them are on insurance. My two cats and my ball python are all on very basic "illness and injury" plans. The price of vet visits (the exam itself) and routine vaccines is not covered, but any medication, testing, or procedures are covered under a similar plan to the one above (cheaper deductible for younger animals, though)

My two animals that aren't on pet insurance are my rescue bearded dragons. Both have very extensive pre-existing conditions that an insurance could easily attribute to all health issues they have (one had severe metabolic bone disease for years, the other has at least one brain aneurysm and has spent the last few years battling a very antibiotic resistant infection), and so even if I could get them covered it would never really pay out because any testing or treatment could be marked as a pre-existing condition and written off

There is a remarkable difference in the emotional toll of needing to do testing for my covered animals vs my not covered animals. My ball python needed a panel of senior blood work done earlier this year to get a healthy baseline for her, and because of a lab mix up and a clerical error I was told that her values were concerningly abnormal (this was thankfully not true, but for 4 days I thought it was true). While I waited for the vet to get back to me about the results my only concern was whether or not she would be okay. The blood work itself brought her to her yearly deductible, and any treatment after that would be 90% covered. All my attention was able to go into monitoring her and looking for any signs anything was wrong

One of my rescue bearded dragons (the one with the aneurysms and infection) needed a CT scan. We had done every conservative treatment we could to determine what was causing the strange swelling behind his eyes (diet adjusted for the possibility of certain deficiencies, eye based antibiotic treatment, injectable antibiotic treatment, and after an eye culture a specialized antibiotic course that the bacteria weren't resistant to), so if we wanted to determine the cause and if it was treatable he would need to do a scan. For lizards this involves a pre-scan work up, anesthesia, contrast, and the cost to cover the machine and the staff, as well as recovery ICU time because anesthesia is rough on reptiles. It came out to about a thousand dollars, just to determine if he had something treatable or not. If it had been an abscess in his eye socket then he would have needed surgery under CT guidance to drain it. I wasn't given an estimate for the price, but from the look on the vet's face if things had gone that way I imagine it would have been a LOT more money. Since he wasn't on pet insurance, I had to not just worry about if he would make it through the CT and about what we would find, but also worry about being out a minimum of $1000. I had to determine if I could actually afford that, on top of weighing the pros and cons to his health. It made the whole thing a lot worse and I was physically ill from the stress for weeks. If I could get Scout and Stanley covered I would in an instant, because when my cats or my python run into issues it is the stress of a sick animal and covering the initial charge until I am reimbursed, but nothing else after that. With Scout and Stanley (and before he passed away earlier this year Spike) I also have to figure out the logistics of covering treatment as a whole

I've been following what's been going on with Belphie the kitten and his person, Greer Stothers, has just mentioned pet insurance in a tag on a post and I wanted to give an example from my life backing up why pet insurance can be a good idea and why I think it is worthwhile.

Two years ago my sister's dog had bloat while she was on vacation. The kennel he was staying at recognized symptoms and called my sister to clear them to take him to the emergency vet. My sister is very financially secure and this dog is an enormous part of her life, so she said yes with barely a moment of hesitation. That ended up being about twelve thousand dollars of emergency surgery.

Large Bastard and I got pet insurance for Tiny Bastard the same week because we realized that if someone had presented that option to us, we would have had no choice but to have Tiny Bastard put down, and we didn't want to be put in that position.

I did a lot of research about different kinds of pet insurance and different levels of coverage and annual maximums and deductibles and so on and so forth. Tiny Bastard is a senior dog, so this was going to be expensive no matter what options we went with, so I chose a moderately priced plan with a $500 annual deductible, unlimited annual coverage, that pays 80% of the bills incurred annually below the maximum. What that means is that we pay the first $500 of care totally out of pocket, after which point we are reimbursed 80% of any vet bills for care covered by the plan.

The first year we had this plan I was kind of iffy about it. It's a noticeable monthly expense and we didn't even spend the deductible in vet bills the first year. Except that a month before the policy was set to renew, Tiny Bastard got diagnosed with diabetes. We now have monthly insulin costs and syringe costs; there are tests she has to have regularly to monitor her overall condition and we need to do more frequent vet visits to track symptoms.

Suddenly the insulin alone means that the insurance is break-even within six months and the additional visits and tests are something we can afford instead of something we'd have to put on credit.

Our plan (through ManyPets) covers medication, surgery, diagnostics, medical equipment, and euthanasia and cremation. It doesn't cover pre-existing conditions, joint conditions for dogs who were signed up over a certain age, dental care, spay/neuter, vaccinations, or prescription food but honestly all of that makes me just kind of wish we'd signed her up earlier - her knee problems *would* be covered if we'd had her signed up as a puppy, and the monthly cost would have been lower if we'd signed her up then. And there are at least a few emergency vet bills that I wouldn't still be paying off on my credit card. Hell, I've probably paid more in interest on some bruising she got in a fight three years ago than I have for this policy as a whole.

I am glad that Greer is able to take care of Belphie. I am glad that my sister was able to take care of her dog. But I'm also really, really glad that for a relatively low cost, I would be able to take care of Tiny Bastard if she were catastrophically injured, or if she needed emergency surgery. I'm glad that I'm able to take care of her now with her medications and her additional vet visits.

There are a lot of people who say that pet insurance isn't worth it, especially not for young animals. But if your young animal gets very sick, or gets badly injured, or eats a hairband and needs an emergency endoscopy, then it will probably be VERY worth it. It's a risk/reward question. You feel like you're wasting money if you're paying for a policy that you never use, but honestly that just means you're lucky to have a healthy pet.

I'm lucky that Tiny Bastard was relatively healthy before I got the insurance; I'm also lucky that she was insured when she was diagnosed with a chronic illness that will need lifelong care. This enables me to provide care for her that would otherwise be financially unmanageable, and that makes the insurance *extremely worth it* from my perspective.

And Belphie is a good example of why it's a good idea to get coverage even for very young pets. Greer is recommending it because this kitten has required a tremendous amount of care during a period in his life when it's generally taken for granted that a cat will be healthy. (And Greer is not stupid for forgoing pet insurance - pet insurance is still a relatively new concept and there are lots of people who are leery of it for a number of good reasons)

So I'd say that if you've got a pet or are getting a pet it is very worthwhile to find a pet insurance plan that fits in your budget. There are a variety of plans out there and some are very inexpensive. Check coverage levels (you can even get some with wellness plans that include dental care and vaccinations) and see if there's something that works for you.

I personally don't think I'm ever going to own another pet without having pet insurance. It's ridiculous how much easier it is for me to say yes to diagnostic tests or different treatments than it was before because I know I'm going to be able to fit Tiny Bastard's care into our budget.

[nathank77]

9/19/24

10:34 a.m

I'm doing laundry my bedding today cause I got egg yolk on my blanket yesterday and it was too disgusting to pretend it didn't happen. The eggs were perfect but yea. It's been 3 months since I did my bedding, it's time even though I'm worried about money and I'll need more detergent to get through the month. I was going to wait until I got a huge amount of egg yolk on my bed.

The white mulberries I'm currently on, the 5000mg ones that I don't believe are 5000mg aren't as effective but they are close. I can't wait to get more in the mail.

Technically it's hardcore Nuketown this week, I tried to play Tuesday but it wasn't going my way and with my new av cord bypasser for hdcp I want to get on my Playstation. I'm so excited to finally be able to play my Playstation 3. Now I can record any game I want! And I don't think the grind in bo4 is worth it. I prefer hardcore barebones bc it's every map... Nuketown is just Nuketown.. it's the same sweaty map with the same sweaty corners and angles. I'm stuck in the house, cause if you dare walk out in the middle there is someone on the other team posted in every corner/angle and you die. So I get stuck sitting in the house looking out the window or looking at the spawn hoping the game will spawn them there and let me spray them as they run out of it. It gets boring. I can circulate the house but in domination the spawns are concrete and they stay on their side leaving me in the window unless my team flips the spawns. If it's tdm or KC they do flip but it's boring being stuck in a house all day. Grinding for 20 kills a game. I'd rather play Playstation it'll be another 15 weeks until hardcore barebones where we can play any map.

Today is the last day of my Antibiotics. The last day I have to cheat on my diet. I've been extremely gassy since starting it. It's better than cramping but not ideal.... I gained 5 pounds adding in that extra sandwich... I'm ready to go back to my old diet. I could have went to the ent this morning at 9:30 a.m but I can't cook a whole meal to take my antibiotic before that time and get to the appt... on Monday I can eat a protein bar and run the fuck out the door.

Sleep has been good the last 3 nights. The night before the eye dr I took a full 1mg bc I'm not dumb I knew it would keep me up with anxiety but I had a half the night before and last night. I fell asleep fast all 3 nights. Super duper fast. Hopefully tonight is the same.

My ear has been popping a lot... a lot today and over the last 3 days... I'm worried.

I'm still very lonely and idk how out of all those likes I sent out the other day that not one woman thought I was cute. My height, my glasses and my bald head must be a problem.

I'd get a wig but I can't afford one. I'd get a height surgery but I can't afford it.

I can toss out the glasses but I can't fucking see without them but whenever I see a guy with glasses I think nerd. They always look nerdy. That's probably what people think of me and when I look it up, it is def associated with the word nerd. So I mean it's the only thing I can change about myself to find a woman..

I remember dating Katie and she didn't like glasses...so I didn't wear them much. Elise always said that wasn't okay and I should be able to wear them and the right person wouldn't care. The problem is no one seems to think I'm cute with them.

[rainismee]

August 28, 2023 | 11:29 p.m.

The weather caused me to wake up feeling chilly. Apparently, a low-pressure system's emergence as a typhoon was announced a few days ago. This explains the summer's abrupt onslaught of cold weather. Even though it was only a short sleep, it was one that left me feeling refreshed and mentally prepared to face the day tomorrow. Ten years ago, I encountered insomnia. It began sooner than I anticipated. Since that time, I've had trouble falling asleep and closing my eyes.

It started when I initially felt regret on August 16, 2013, when something tragic happened. For some people, it wasn't a huge issue, but it is for me. Subsequent to that day, I couldn't fall asleep. Not because I'm afraid of losing someone or seeing their face in a dream. I regret not spending more time with her; I regret that.

I am aware that I shouldn't feel burdened when it comes to taking care of her since I was still a kid back then. But I always thought that I should've done something worthy instead of just focusing on my studies.

When some men in uniform came into our house, I silently observed as they carried her to the bed and placed some medical tools beside her. I must admit, I felt scared during that time.

I'm terrified of dying. And in my mind, death represented my grandmother because that's what I kept hearing from my relatives. When my grandma got into bed, I overheard my uncles discussing how we couldn't afford to keep her alive. For her, my heart ached. Although they may not express it, I know that my family members are concerned and suffering as well.

For the first time, I was able to see past their pretensions to their true feelings. Full of grief and regrets. When I first noticed despair from them, it was an abrupt change from their regular expressions of happiness and anger--that I believe is exclusive to me.

I carefully walked over to my grandmother after learning that she wouldn't last long and that we were just waiting for it to happen.

Through her, I can still recall the hospital room's scent. The smell of an antibiotic that targets bacteria, which is bitter, and the overtones of the synthetic aroma found in soaps and cleaners almost made me think of the time I was admitted because of an illness and how she was always coming by to see how I was doing. Her skin had marks. I closed my eyes as I considered how painful getting an injection would be if it were me. Since I was a kid, I've been afraid of needles and hospitals.

I looked over her completely and checked on her. My mother was attempting to have a conversation with my grandma while lying next to her. She expressed her desire to hold me. My mother advised me to grab her hand while she could still feel me.

I approached her slowly and took her hand. It was warm. I cannot express to you how much I missed that special kind of warmth. But being the overthinking child that I was, I pulled my hand away from hers out of fear of slipping and hurting her. I moved backward because I was afraid I would unintentionally touch something. She used to reprimand me for being clumsy, but since my grandma is such a good disciplinarian, I don't feel bad at all.

I gazed at my mother after holding her hand. I nearly started crying when I observed how difficult it was for her to understand my grandmother's mumbling since she was unable to move her jaw.

I thought back to the last time I had seen my grandmother smile as I sat on the sofa. It was a pleasant morning, and I was getting ready to leave for school. I go to their house every day, say good morning to her, and then give her a kiss. She would offer me a hug and compliment me on the way I looked. We sometimes got into arguments over the fact that I wouldn't drink her homemade tea with honey. She nonetheless made me a cup of warm honey tea, even though she couldn't walk at the time, which I happily drank.

She was calmly observing me as she searched her memory for my identity. It was the first time, I assure you, that I struggled to hold back my tears in her presence. Surprisingly, I was able to control my tears during those periods, even though I used to cry frequently. Even the process of how I achieved that fascinated me.

She merely stared at the wall when I told her that I was going to school. I kissed her and told her to wait for me because I planned to read her a book from the Bible that I was reading. She looked at me innocently without saying a word or giving any other response. And then she suddenly smiled. I distinctly remember how she took my hand, asked about my name, and then told me that she has a grandchild who is just as lovely as I am. She giggled and gave me a kiss. And asked me to take care while combing my long hair with her fingers.

That was the last time I saw her smile. It feels like a warm cup of tea while relaxing on a beach and watching the sun rise. It is modest yet majestic. It has no value. It is a smile that radiates love and sincerity. One-of-a-kind.

When she was returned to us after six months in the ICU, my uncle signed a document acknowledging that we were aware of the potential repercussions of our decision to take my grandmother home from the hospital.

We are left with no other option due to the situation at hand. My relatives and I are certain that Grandma can no longer tolerate the pain of all medical procedures. We want her to get some rest already. Nevertheless, it was sorrowful because we were the ones who decided she had to go.

I can sense the strained mood from where I'm sitting on the sofa. Grandma is still breathing, but she doesn't seem to be doing well. My uncles are in a state of anxiety since she is losing oxygen, which is an uncommon sight. They were composed and cool, as I grew up with them. My family was never a fan of affection. My grandmother is my only source of love.

Because Grandma doesn't want me to get sick, one of them advised me to get some rest. I was reluctant at first, but eventually I was able to fall asleep easily.

I could hear cries while I slept. I heard voices discussing services that I couldn't make sense of. My father's solemn expression puzzled me when I first got up.

Those words, "Wala na si Nanay, anak," tasted sweet and bitter at the same moment. Why? My father used the word "anak" for the first time. And it is to tell me that my grandmother is no longer with us.

I ran to my grandma's house, but when I saw my uncle's shadowy visage, I had to halt. Mom was holding my grandmother's lifeless body and sobbing in silence.

I'm not sure how I did it, but that time I managed to hold back my tears. I wasn't upset or furious. My body immediately started to feel afraid. There was no sign of fascination, unlike the first time I suppressed my tears.

I was concerned that my grandmother wouldn't be able to save me from my uncles. It was selfish, yes. I was afraid that she would accuse us of causing her pain. I was afraid she would be upset with us. I was so afraid that she would be angry with us for failing to save her.

At that moment, I also came to the realization that money has more power than we could ever fathom, including the ability to both save and end lives. Many of our properties were sold, and even my father's savings were utilized. It's difficult for us because several of my relatives don't have jobs.

I lost any emotions as I saw my uncles cry. I still feel sorry for them, even though I never had the impression that they liked me. After all, she is their mother. My father simply told me to go back to sleep while he remained standing next to me. However, I simply shrugged and urged him to leave me alone.

I went outside onto the terrace and looked up at the sky. It was still dark at that very moment. My heart aches despite the blankness in my head. I felt helpless and thought that I should've done something to prolong her life. But everything that implies dying is a mystery to me. On that particular day, I witnessed death for the first time.

In my mind, death brings serenity. I believed that it was not painful. I assumed it would be something that good people would want because it would be their time to finally rest after everything that they did.

I would like to wipe away the tear that my grandma has on her cheek, but my mind is foggy with scattered thoughts.

Have you ever experienced something like that? Numerous thoughts are running through your head at once. And you can't just name it. Before I knew it, it was morning, and my aunt requested that I accompany her as she shopped for items we would need for my grandma's burial. I briskly joined them without giving it any thought.

Escape.

Step away.

Forget.

I was instantly bombarded with ideas regarding how to make my agony disappear. Steer away and leave. Run away from the fact that she is gone. Run from the idea that I won't be able to see her. Forget she ever existed.

We were delayed for hours before returning home, and my aunt kept reminding me that death is something we cannot control. I don't give much reaction to her, but she still feels obliged to explain the concept of death to a 12-year-old me. I was unable to comprehend it at the moment. It seems unjust to me. I believed that Jesus would always bless you if you were an upright individual. But why does it appear that Jesus only condemns the righteous?

I was greeted by people who offered their condolences when we arrived home. I then saw my grandma lying in a stunning casket that was decorated with flowers. Her cat was sleeping soundly below the coffin.

I bit my lip, trying to hold back the tears.

"Crying is for the weak," I'd whisper repeatedly.

That was the moment it became my mantra, and since that day, no one has ever seen me cry until now.

Days went by during which I did not sleep. For a week, I didn't allow myself to sleep and only gazed at my grandmother. I ignored their advice to take a nap, despite their constant pleas. I want to appreciate the present. I want to keep every detail in mind.

Until the day of her interment came. Everything was crying out loudly. It was traumatizing to hear, and I was unable to control my tears, so I just sobbed quietly while contemplating everything.

Why does she have to die? Why does she need to be taken away? She is the only person I have as an ally. She's my first true love and my dearest friend. She protects me from all prejudices. Now that she is gone, who is going to protect me? How am I able to live? Should I just follow her?

How will she be able to witness my achievements that I promised her and hear me give speeches that are filled with thanksgiving and adoration for her?

I could tell something had changed in me after that day. I stopped caring about anything and began to feel distant.

I'm still cheerful and friendly, but it's grown more constrained. I became apprehensive as I thought about her every year.

When February, the month of her birth, begins. I would consistently experience an odd feeling. I would feel dull, and my recollections of her would resurface.

Up until the end of February, I continued to think about her. It feels strange and funny since I promised myself that I would forget her. I have successfully forgotten some memories, but the feelings are still inside me. Even my brain can't fight with my emotions. It's considerably worse than the monthly hormone attack I feel.

Similar to how I felt in February, I also experienced some unusual feelings when August dawned. Like I'm still in 2013 and still in the midst of my grandma's death.

I had been that way for a very long time. My least compelling months are February and August. I would break down and isolate myself from the outside world. I would cut off communication with everyone. Although I tried, I was unable to get rid of it.

Perhaps my grandmother is trying to remind me not to forget about her by doing so. She is constantly on my mind, so how can I do that?

I chose to write about these emotions now because I want to recall how I felt back then. I am currently finding it very difficult to remember a lot of things because of stress, anxiety, and an unhealthy way of life. I am aware of my shortcomings. However, I can't seem to push myself to just change but I am trying. People are more hesitant to give me advice because of my continued disobedience and inability to listen. They all got tired of me.

I want to be left alone, but I also need someone to remind me whenever I'm going too far. I need someone to remind me of the facts so that I won't always act immature.

I dozed off earlier while thinking of my grandmother. When I got myself out of bed, I immediately looked at my phone to check on some messages that I had received. A notification from my mother appeared. She was within my room, talking to my father, so I didn't understand why she needed to message me.

I started crying the moment I clicked on her name. No one dared bring up my grandmother after she passed away. That's one thing about my family that I dislike.

Death, to them, signifies both the cessation of life and the loss of memory. They gave me the impression that, at least according to one of my uncles, deceased individuals shouldn't be remembered simply because they are gone.

My mother found an old photo and sent it to me while they recovered my dad's files. It portrays my grandmother putting ribbons to my father. I even laughed a little because of my father's grim face while being awarded. It seems like I got my grumpiness in him.

I was reminded of the day she said she would do the same to me. Even though she was unable to, I continued to believe that I was with her.

I want her to be happy with me. I hope she's enjoying her slumber. I'm hoping she won't be upset with me for doubting Jesus' plan. That was certainly a mistake, and I felt awful about it.

I'm hoping she's keeping an eye on me. As I work to hold myself together, I want to make her proud. Life is still challenging. The world is still harsh. Particularly given that I am alone and have no one to recline next to. I am still standing strong.

I don't cry in front of others anymore. I even refuse to acknowledge that I am capable of crying. Many people are aware of my numbness and lack of emotion. After that day, I changed into something people couldn't understand. I became unexpectedly full of surprises. I tend to make decisions far from everyone's expectations. I am and will be doing things that I think could help me grow as a person.

However, I don't want to forget that there is still a grieving child inside of me who yearns for a loving hug from people who truly care.

I'll conclude this now because I'm running out of things to say. As I try to remember those instances from my past that I so wanted to forget, my mind becomes muddled.

The situation will be fine. Just be resilient. Be who you are.

[braceportdentistry]

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The second step involves placing a rubbery dam on the particular dental area during treatment in order to ensure that the teeth remain dry. 

The dentist creates a tiny access hole on the tooth's crown.

With the aid of the dental instrument, infected tissue, blood vessels, and nerves are now removed. 

Afterwards, the root canal is cleaned, disinfected, and shaped. 

Dentists use a gum-like dental material called gutta-percha to fill empty tooth canals. 

A temporary dental filling is then used to seal the tooth so that saliva will not damage the canals. 

Following the healing process of the tooth, a permanent, custom-made dental crown is applied. 

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How can you get ready for root canal therapy?

First and foremost importantly, take all the antibiotics as well as anti-inflammatory medications if prescribed by your dentist. 

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Before the procedure begins, eat healthy and heavy meals since, due to numbness caused by the anaesthesia, you will not be able to eat anything for quite much time, even after the procedure ends. 

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[damneddualities]

I’m just gonna vent because when I get this frustrated and stressed I go pretty much nonverbal but keeping it in doesn’t help either. Also I can’t afford therapy so Tumblr it is.

I recently adopted a cat to be my ESA as petting and cuddling with a cat has always helped calm me down and is almost stim like. I had to leave my elderly cat back home partially due to his age but also because my sister would have thrown a fit if I took MY cat with me down south while I was in school. Mind you she adopted a kitten a couple months ago. Part of the reason I did t fight it was because she also needs animals for emotional support. Yknow she has her dog but whatever I’ve mostly moved past that.

Last year I lost the last kitten I had adopted to the FVIP which is basically kitty COVID and has a 10% of becoming a neurological issue that is almost immediately fatal. My partner is living with me in our apartment while I finish up my last year of college. Before coming down my mom made them promise to not let me get a cat. Mind you she didn’t communicate this with me, my partner did. They have recognized however that our cat greatly improved my mental health and my stress based compolusions. However I have not told my mom yet about our cat.

This is for a few reasons. One being the aforementioned “promise”. Another is that I recently lost my job because I was apparently hired on as seasonal despite being hired before seasonal started. I still don’t have a job and it’s been almost a month. So my mom who is a co-signer on our lease has been helping with rent and groceries because inflation is a bitch on top of being without a job.

Mind you I only adopted this cat because I had gotten hired somewhere. Only to be immediately ghosted on when I would start (then never even sent me the onboarding information). So now I have no savings, no job income for at least another three weeks (working on getting hired somewhere else) and suddenly my cat is shitting blood.

Took her to the closest vet I could because I didn’t have money for a carrier yet. The internet and reviews said they were good and adorable. The first visit is even free! I get there and the tech that comes in immediately starts talking about money and cost. They barely even looked at my cat.

Anyway I explain what caused me to come in (part of it being trauma from suddenly losing my last cat) and they advise me that they’ll probably have to do blood work and give her meds and the price tag just keeps upping. I tell them the most I could possibly pay that day (as they didn’t have any payment plan options and my deductible on the pet insurance hadn’t been paid yet anyway) was $200

So the tech takes my baby back and I sit alone in that room for upwards of twenty minutes. When the tech comes back the vet is with him. She has a type of tapeworm-adjacent intestinal parasite. They tell me they’re putting her in three medications: a probiotic to help with the diarrhea, an antibiotic for the inflamed anus cussed by the excessive shitting (which was where the blood was coming from) and the meds for the parasite itself. Only the Rx for the parasite isn’t on hand and I have to order it through chewy. (So another $20-40. That prescription isn’t even expected to arrive before the 1st so it will have been a week since the appointment that the meds arrive. )The vet leaves and I pay the $147 (an extra $12 for the cardboard carrier they used) and go home.

The next day she is shitting everywhere with seemingly no control. Luckily we had quarantined her to the bathroom so our dog wouldn’t get infected from eating her poop. Now she has rectal incontinence from the parasites. And on top of that she’s bloated from it as well. None of these symptoms/side effects were things the vet told me to expect. So I’m panicking and thankfully was able to get in touch with a vet through online chat for free as I’d gone completely nonverbal in my panic and stress.

All this leads up to me having an emotional breakdown in bed the other night because one of the things I struggle the most with is feeling like a burden, especially a financial one. And I feel like an awful pet owner because our cat loves cuddles and being around the rest of us and now she’s quarantined in the bathroom and I can hear her meowing for attention that I can’t give her for longer than like five minutes.

My partner comforted me and helped me get out of my head and I finally felt like I was doing a bit better. Then my mom calls and because I was taking a depresso nap I didn’t answer so she texts the both of us. To my partner she texts her questions and to me I get the anxiety inducing “call your mother now” text.

I call her. Immediately I’m being berated for using DoorDash to buy McDonald’s the other day. Sorry my depression is chronic and makes it hard to find motivation to cook lunch let alone eat. Then she moves on to my use of Cashapp. A use which I’ve told her in the past it to get money into my own account through another bank which doesn’t have branches near where I’m currently living. Money which needs to be in there for my bills such as my medications and reoccurring subscriptions to be paid. Also it was how I was paying for the vet visit without her finding out I have a cat.

Yes I know I should tell her but I know that when I do it will be an endless barrage of how I don’t know how to save money or so finances and how I shouldn’t get an animal if I can’t afford it and basically implying that I am a financial burden. A concern I have shared with her in the past and she has assured me I’m not. She may say it but her actions and the way she talks to me say otherwise. And if I tell her I got it becuase I had been hired but then was unexpectedly ghosted she’ll give me shit about not confronting the people who “hired” me, knowing that I don’t do well with confrontations with authority and that I don’t communicate well when I’m upset or stressed.

She also started in on why the hell was I needing to take a nap. And rather than have to explain my mental disabilities ((adhd, chronic depression, anxiety (and undiagnosed autism)) tax on me physically I just told her I had a headache (another thing I deal with chronically). She immediately goes into well, and I quote, “prepare for the headache to get worse” and that’s when she starts laying in about the expenses on my account that she has access to. I’m fucking 25 I don’t want to be treated like a child who doesn’t realize how the world works.

Mind you this woman spent at least 2/3 of her teaching career working with disabled kids as a special needs teacher. But would she ever admit her own daughter is autistic and has periods of being nonverbal? No. And I learned not to rely on others because my older siblings always seemed to be of a higher priority growing up than I did. My middle sister is medically diagnosed as “mentally retarded” (yahoo /s for the medical industry 30+ years ago not knowing what the term developmentally delayed is -_-) so she was mentally younger than I was by the type I was ten. My oldest sister is practically a narcissist who I was constantly compared to and I saw how she took advantage of my mom financially (she’s 35+ and has a well laying career but my mom is still the one paying her student loans).

This has probably made no sense and is all over the place but I’m too tired to edit it to be more cohesive and I warned y’all it was a rant. I’m just tired of being treated like an idiot and a burden. Not to even mention the fact that I’m supposed to have access to the money my grandfather set aside for me in a trust (RIP Popop) but my mom won’t confront her younger sister about why she hasn’t handled it yet. Which brings up my partners concern that if the trust wasn’t set up before my grandfather death and is only stipulated in the will then my aunt as the executor can just say fuck you to all of us and keep everything for herself. With her being the most well off out of all of us.

My Popop vaguely told me about this money before he passed because he saw how the world was going financially. He knew I would struggle as the youngest. My middle sister will likely always live with my parents. My eldest sister is married with kids and has a well paying career and owns a home. I’m relying on grants and scholarships and federal loans to pay for college and worked (including my schooling, and my internship) over 75 hours a week last semester just to get by. Plus I know that when my parents go I will be responsible for my middle sister. We do not get along. She resents me for not having the same difficulties as her and for having thing she doesn’t as her younger sister. But my narcissistic eldest sister is a fucking cunt who would probably just blatantly refuse to help out. So I get to be implied to be a burden who is incapable of managing their own money while also being blasted with the pressure of knowing that should anything happen to my parents I will become responsible for my middle sister.

TLDR: moms are fucking nosy and incredibly ableist despite being a former special needs teacher who’s students still remember and send her gifts and I’m out of a job with a shit ton of sudden expenses

If you’d like to help out my Cashapp and Venmo are both lexmars42 and you could even buy something from my redbubble (same as my tumblr handle). Literally a fucking dollar or two would be appreciated.

[hailbop1701]

Curing a Rainy Day

A sort of five times Star Trek gen fic for your viewing pleasure. I mentioned I would write it but please be aware that I wrote this on my phone late at night and I has no beta. Typos and mistakes will be found. 🤣

-H❤🖖

Word Count: 2,166

Sulu:

Leonard McCoy wasn’t a huge touchy-feely type of man. Well, that’s what he really wants folks to think anyway. He was a doctor and that meant it was his oath-bound duty to cure what ails his patients. Whether it was from a physical malady or an emotional one. The first time he initiated his “Rainy Day Cure” --title courtesy of his daughter-- to one of the command crew he was surprised that it was Sulu of all people. If Len were being honest he thought it would have been Jim. Sure he had hugged the kid in the past but he always let Jim be the one to initiate contact. The reason why is complicated and a story for another time. 

When he found him the young pilot was huddled alone in Observation Room Five, his shoulders hunched, his down so his eyes were hidden and mind lightyears away. Leonard had a feeling he knew where. The chaos after Khan and Marcus had caused a lot of damage, and not all of it was physical. They were all still healing even a year later. They had left Kronos not three hours ago and according to the mission report, Sulu’s younger sister was…

Not who she claimed to be. ‘Yuki,’ McCoy recalled her name lamely as he made his way loudly over to the depressed man.

She revealed that she worked for Section 31 and was determined to fix the Federation the right way. Though the term “Right way” is skewed for many folks. War was almost started, again and the Enterprise had to stop it, again. Section 31 now had the last little pebble of Red Matter and was holding it like a…” Nuclear deterrent” as the old saying goes. 

Shaking his head Leonard pushed recent events to the back of his mind and continued on his own mission. Plopping down on the couch that faced the giant window of stars, McCoy leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees. 

He didn’t offer his apologies or sympathies, he knew Sulu didn’t want them. So they sat in silence. Sulu just shook his head and looked up at the doctor with confusion and betrayal in his eyes. “I don’t - I” he stopped swallowing and the helmsman looked so young Leonard didn’t even think about it until after he had already done it. 

He wrapped an arm over Hikaru’s shoulder and squeezed. Sulu stilled for a moment before relaxing and saying what needed to be said, a weight slowly lifting off his shoulders and his chest. 

Scotty:

Leonard and Scotty were both having a terrible terrible time. The cold sucked in Leonard’s opinion and being trapped on an ice ball of a planet only confirmed his feelings. Looking over at the Enterprises Chief Engineer, Leonard had a feeling that he wasn’t alone in his thoughts and feelings. 

The Scot was curled into a tight ball up against the last running console the entire ‘Fleet base had. He was shivering and muttering to himself, glaring at the distress signal he had rigged up. There was nothing they could do but wait. Rubbing his hands together to warm them Leonard moved toward the console and slid down to the floor next to Scotty. Touching shoulders with Scotty, McCoy tucked his hands under his arms and sighed. There was nothing he could really say to ease the engineer’s anxiety -- which stemmed from Delta Vega no doubt --  so he simply let his presence be enough. 

Scotty glanced at Leonard to see that he was looking back at him with calm understanding. Grunting Scotty curled himself closer to the CMO and let the man wrap an arm around his shoulders. They didn’t speak a word and only moved when they heard the sounds of the rescue party on the other side of the sealed doors. 

Chekov:

Pavel Chekov was the youngest of the command crew, so he was automatically protected and treated like the youngest sibling of a giant family. The navigator understood that his friends didn’t mean to and that it was just sometimes a reflex but he was getting damn tired of it. Today was his birthday, he had finally turned twenty! Chekov was so pleased to find that after the incident with Khan he was being treated like he should. There was one person who always treated him like he was young and precious. 

Pavel found that he didn’t mind so much. Doctor McCoy treated almost everyone that way -- even though he wasn’t that much older than the rest of them --  in an almost fatherly manner. A true caretaker. Chekov allowed the behavior from no one but McCoy. 

Leonard walked into “Rec Room Two” taking in the crowd with a softening scowl. A small wrapped parcel gripped in his hand. He looked down at the present, weighing it in his hands carefully.  With a sigh, McCoy strode through the room looking for the birthday boy. Jim waved at him wildly from the other side of the room a huge grin on his face. Narrowing his eyes, Leonard saw that his captain wasn’t in fact drunk at all. Grunting in approval he smiled at Chekov who was hurrying over to greet him. 

“Happy Birthday Pavel,” 

Chekov grinned and his eyes widened at the present presented to him. Leonard gestured for him to open it and the young man did excitedly. The wrapping paper littered the floor a long black box in its place. Slowly opening the box the navigator knocked a silver antique pocket knife into his hands. Examining it closely he looked up at McCoy in confusion. 

Leonard shifted nervously on his feet. Clearing his throat he pulled out a similar from his belt. “My daddy gave me this one to match his when I turned twenty. I know your pa wasn’t around as you grew up and so I thought…” his sentence fell into silence. For once Leonard McCoy was at a loss for words. Pavel quickly wiped a stray tear from his eye and grinned at his friend holding onto the gift tightly. 

“Thank you doctor!” he said gratefully and Leonard understood that it was for more than just a knife. A small smile graced the CMO’s lips and pulled the kid in for a hug. 

With anyone else, Pavel would have been annoyed. This was an exception. 

Uhura:

Leonard was tired. He longed for his bed but as he looked around at all of the injured crew he pushed the longing away. There was no time for it. Rubbing the blurry fatigue from his eyes he pushed on. Triage, surgery, aftercare. He really didn’t truly stop to breathe until the middle of gamma shift when the ship was sleepy and quiet. The only noise was the soft beeps and whistles of monitors. His nurses quietly whispering and working. 

Christine hours ago told him to stop worrying and to go to bed already but something in him just couldn’t. Blinking dumbly down at the PADD in his hands he sighed and signed off on the next round of Spock’s antibiotics. During the Enterprises most recent scuffle the bridge took a hit and the science station exploded sending the first officer flying, earning him a ticket to medical. 

After the fight was over and things had only calmed down to a trickle of wounded instead of a flash flood, Nyota Uhura breezed through sickbay’s doors. She waited patiently and even helped where she could. When Spock came out of surgery and was placed in a private room she immediately went to his side and hasn’t moved an inch since. Jim would have been right beside her if he could afford to. But it appears the admiralty wanted words and had kept him busy since. McCoy had barely just convinced him to get some sleep saying that he would call if anything changes. 

That was three hours ago. 

Leonard walked -- though Nyota would say shuffled -- into Spock’s room, his eyes going straight to the monitors above the bed. The half Vulcan was resting peacefully. McCoy knew it was only a matter of time before he woke and would go into a healing trance. Something that should be monitored anyway. Leonard quietly wondered who he would grant the opportunity to slap Spock awake this time…

“Leonard!” 

The sound of his name made the CMO snap his head in Uhura’s direction. Her eyes were fire, filled with frustration, exhaustion, and worry. McCoy winced, “Sorry Nyota, guess my mind wandered a bit,” he said somewhat sheepishly. Her expression softened a flash of guilt passing through her features. 

“You need more rest. You’re going to run yourself into the ground at this rate,” she scolded half-heartedly. McCoy gave her a small smile and a shrug, 

"I'll rest when I'm not needed." He whispered and badly covered up a yawn. The hidden meaning behind his words wasn't lost on the linguist though. She pressed her lips into a tight line deciding not to comment. Instead, she rested her gaze on Spock once more her hand inches away from his. 

So deep in thought, Nyota hadn't even realized that McCoy had left and come back, a tray with a couple of hypos in his always unwavering hands. Catching her eyes he gave her another encouraging smile. He took care to tell her everything he was doing and how it would help keep infection away. Leonard knew he didn't have to explain but he felt it necessary to fill the quiet with "Illogical chatter" as Spock would surely call it. 

Uhura was so tired and so frazzled that she was startled to find the CMO crouching in front of her with concern all over his face. "You need to get some rest Nyota. I can have a cot brought in if you'd like…" 

Uhura, let a few tears fall before she bottled it up again. She shook her head wiping her face, "I'm alright Leo. Everything is just catching up to me…" she mumbled with a watery chuckle. Leonard snorted at the nickname she had given him, 

"Just let me know darlin' " 

And without truly thinking about it he pulled her into a hug. It only took Uhura a second to process what was happening before she wrapped her arms around him tightly. A genuine smile breaking across her face. The first time in hours she felt content, safe, and able to truly breathe. 

Jim: 

James T. Kirk was a touchy-feely type of man. Leonard supposed it may be from a less than stellar childhood. So whenever Jim would pull him into a one-armed hug or slapped his back or even leaned up against him, McCoy would let him. He would definitely bitch but only half-heartedly, Leonard needed to keep up appearances after all. 

So when they found Jim partially dead, hanging from his wrists in a cave all smirks and charm…

Well, no one batted an eye when -- after he made sure that the man would live -- Leonard pulled his best friend in for a hug. Jim just laughed, laid an arm over McCoy's shoulder, and leaned into the hug. 

"I only had to get tortured and offered to an alien God for you to hug me. Good to know," 

"Shut up Kid," 

Spock:

No one ever thought the words McCoy, Spock, and hug would ever be uttered but stranger things have happened on the Enterprise. 

No stranger than an alien device that turned back time. In a physical sense anyway. Leonard looked down at his adolescent hands and sighed with a heavy eye roll. "Not this again," he grumbled with a shudder. 

Looking around the room he saw Jim shouting at Mudd who had bought the alien weapon and decided to point it at him and Spock. McCoy tilted his head, his eyes going comically wide. 

Spock! 

Where was the green-blooded rugrat? Leonard looked around and sighed in relief at the sight of the first officer. He was hidden under a rickety wooden table. Crouching down Leonard gave Spock a small smile, he waved and gestured for the Vulcan to come closer. Apparently the younger you go the further your mind goes with it. Spock had a mentality of a...of well, a toddler. He couldn't have been more than two. 

Spock stared at Leonard intensely before darting out and crashing into his legs. McCoy stumbled a little before he got his footing. Spock looked up at him with wide scared eyes, tears threatening to fall. 'Must have gotten all Vucan-y at four or five,' Leonard thought as he picked up his friend. 

Leonard pulled Spock close, hugging him to his chest whispering softly. Spock seemed confused for only a moment before he buried his head into the young CMO's neck. 

Jim of course saw it all and later under the threat of meeting his end via an airlock kept his mouth firmly shut. The only thing the Starship Captain said -- which everyone agreed-- Doctor Leonard McCoy could absolutely cure a rainy day. 

Tags:

@lauraaan182, @chickadee-djarin, @cowenby2, @bluesclues-1234, @sayuri9908,

[feliks-the-cat]

Some News

Hello, I was hesitant to post this on here but I decided that maybe the experience we are going through can help others who are having the same situation.

About a 2 months, I took Feliks in for an abscess on his back, which I figured he got when he snuck out and got a nice slapping from out other cat. He had a pretty swollen lymph node and so he got an antibiotic injection. The sore healed but the lymph node didn’t go down.

A week later I took him in because his breathing was quick and shallow. After looking at him and taking an x-ray, the vet told me that he needed to be put down. Just from the x-ray alone it turned out he had Mediastinal Lymphoma.  I took him home that night and we spent the next day together, he got to do what he wanted and all that stuff. Two days later we took him in and we saw a different vet. We were planning to have him euthanized. It was sudden, and remember, he is young.

This vet told me she was going to try to drain fluid out of his chest, if it’d work we could try to send it to oncology (if we got him breathing properly again). She was able to remove 1/4 cup of fluid from his chest. It got sent to an oncologist, and she also gave him a steroid shot. By the next day he was running around like you’d never know he was sick.

The oncology report came back and he does have cancer. So we decided it’d be in his best interest to try Chemotherapy. So far so good and he is doing almost (too well) at least in present. His second Oncology visit is this coming Monday. He only has to go once every three weeks. We’ll find out how his first batch is handling in him.

This form of Lymphoma, in 80% of cases, is caused by exposure to Feline Leukemia. This is a viral disease that there are vaccines against. Feliks was vaccinated when I took him for his first vet visit. He’d had a negative test too. The vet is unsure about why he has this form of Lymphoma but suggested he may have had Leukemia as a baby, then ‘healed’ it out of his system to test negative. It has a very poor prognosis but life can be (with good quality) extended with treatment.

So I want to explain why we opted to go through with Chemotherapy. I’m not really one for putting my animals through unneeded stress. 

- Feliks loves to sit in his crate and go on car rides. This was the biggest decider in if we were going to go through with this, as the oncologist is about 45 minutes away one direction. Most cats will not handle being in a crate. Fortunately, he loves it. If he hated it, sadly he would not be with us anymore. He actually doesn’t mind the vet, either. I assume this has to do with having been there when he had his mauling before I got him.

- Cat Chemo is not like people Chemo. Cat Chemo is far less than what they will give to a human (in ratio). Humans can understand why they are getting so sick but a cat cannot. The goal with animal chemo is to slow down or even stop the symptoms from getting worse. Most cats will go into remission but most cats will relapse over 6-24 months.

- He is one years old. So far during his treatment he has gotten to kill something, play, and live life. I’m trying to get him to experience so many new things before his time runs out.

- I can afford it. No, I am not asking for money or aide. So please don’t think that from this post. This is fairly expensive. It’s about 250-300 USD per oncologist visit. It can go up and down depending on other tests.

- He’s handling it well. Actually the steroid has given him unbelievable strength and he is too difficult to hold down to give his pill. But he is acting like a normal one year old cat with too much energy now.

- On top of Chemo we’re giving him herbal supplements (Life Gold). This does not work alone. Most of the 1* reviews assume that it’s a cure. It’s not. It’s like a super dose of vitamins and other things to help with antioxidants, free radicals, and offers things like Ginger for stomach aches. We might start CBD too.

So I wanted to give an update. This is not happy news but it is... in a sense. Considering a few weeks ago I was under the idea I’d have to put him down right then and there. I’m thankful for everyday with him. He’s been through so much but he’s so happy and silly. I took this picture above, yesterday. If you have any questions and gone through something similar you can send me a message.

[allthingsfern]

In order, my responses to comments in Reply of my COVID19 era post that was my answer to my question “My answer to my questions: Has the era of COVID19 changed your photography? How? And perhaps also, why?“ I am so confused now...

adventuresofalgy

Algy thinks you are lucky and - certainly if compared with Europeans - perhaps quite unusual in not having experienced a more profound effect on your creative outlets and expression. Many of Algy's creative friends have experienced wide-ranging and often severe impacts on their creativity and associated motivation - and therefore on their mental health as well.

themazette

As @adventuresofalgy Jenny said.... you are lucky...

I am indeed very lucky, or as I think of it, blessed. However, it is no way a US thing, nor even a California thing. I add California, because I know many in the US and around the world think of the Golden State as a haven, a progressive, hippie filled state that is all about peace and love and marijuana. However, that is far from the truth. California is like Germany in the 1920s and 30s. There was Berlin, where there was a wildness in the city that was not shared, and was often looked-down on, by those in the majority of the country, who lived in more conservative areas and who, often, economically could not afford the grand life of partying Berliners. In California it is the same. Except for a few urban areas, the state is full of very conservative folks, and for them, like for those in the cities (and in the rest of the world) this COVID19 era has been devastating. Well, and the fires for Californians have been too.

Even in this cool college town where I live, which is lovely and quiet and inspiring, the painfully empty streets, movie theaters, restaurants, shops (think of all those unemployed people) is (still) staggering. In mid-March last year, right after lockdown, I took several phone videos of the deserted street in our town and the campus, but I could not bring myself to share them, since I knew that so many others here on Tumblr were experiencing the same desolation in many different ways. (I figured: “Why add to the sorrow we are living, almost globally?”) I was overwhelmed by the emptiness of the major (well, major for a small town of around 65,000 people) street where I live and the empty bicycle trails and street on campus. And by empty, I mean that even now, I see maybe 3 cyclists per hour, and very little car traffic. Remember, this is a bicycle town; I do not own a car, doing most all my errands on my bike with its 2 fordable baskets in the rear.

And now, over a year later, that same heavy, oppressive emptiness persists. And no, I am not used to it. And yes, I traveled over the last year, but I found the same suffocating blanket of emptiness in each city I visited, even in Las Vegas. It was unnerving. As a matter of fact, last year when I drove to San Francisco 2 months after lockdown for my birthday, I wound up getting depressed and disoriented, in a city where I lived for almost 7 years. Driving back home across the Golden Gate Bridge with tears of sadness in my eyes on my birthday was not what I expected. However, I did get some solid photos of the malaise that hung thick in the air, a malaise that physically took up the space that once was taken up by crowds of people.

Now, I am also very aware that my situation is unique. (Not a fan of the word exceptional, since it can mean both unique and special, and I do not see my situation as special.) My life situation is very unique in that I have a job I love and I work with a great team of characters. We get work done and we have fun, share about our lives. My job is often, especially since COVID19 first got noticed in early 2020, stressful and demands my colleagues and I learn (and sometimes then teach) lots of new technology and that we adapt to the vagaries of the technology gods, which are sometimes unfriendly and unresponsive. And a big part of my job is trying to figure out how to get the technology gods to like us again and grace us with their gifts. (I never realized, until now, with this discussion, that the troubleshooting that is a big part of my job is creative and probably fuels my photographic creativity. Who knew?) Yet, as a group, my colleagues and I support each other. And I am fortunate to count my closest colleague, Steve, as a friend. We have been a great emotional support to each other over the years and now through this COVID19 era. And I recently was reminded (as if I needed reminding) just how unique my work situation is because I participated in a committee that was going over responses to a UC Davis-wide survey exploring levels of employee satisfaction. My 2 colleagues who were also on that committee and I did not have the complaints that others from other departments shared. We work well together, have supportive management that share what is going on and include us (as mush as possible) in the decision making process. And as a department, we get stuff done.

Possibly the best example of how blessedly unique my situation is is what happened this morning when I was talking (yes, on ZOOM) with my immediate supervisor. We discussed the work related stuff, including how at around 10:30 pm the night before I figured something out about an online tool integration I had never done before that I knew was easy but I did not see as easy until I reread the overly complicated instructions a couple of times and just figured out how and where to cut and paste the lines of code (it was that easy, just fucking cut and paste some lines of JSON code) that got the fucking thing to work. Then we talked about his dealing with his young children returning to school and how “normal” now is not “normal” from before and how disruptive the whole thing has been, yet since we work in a supportive atmosphere (and are both salaried), he was able to deal and keep living.

Then, and you are gonna love this, I shared about my original COVID19 question post and the responses and pretty much said to him what I am sharing here.

We talked for a little over an hour. That kind of rapport is rare, for any job, anywhere.

And then there is another way my situation is unique. In some ways, previous “bad things” were actually a preparation for this era of physical distance and uncertainty. In mid-2019, from July to August, first because of my work related bowling concussion and then an antibiotic resistant infection, I was bedridden for about 5 weeks and then had several absences because of concussion issues, like sudden and extreme anger flare ups, nausea, headaches. But however bad I thought that concussion and infection were, the concussion induced forgetfulness and my desire to sharpen my mind and nurture and nourish it have lead me to become, in my old age, organized. I now often take notes of important stuff, add work and personal dates and notes to my Outlook calendar, and even know what day it is, which bugs my colleagues who often find they have no idea what day and/or date it is. Yep, unique, but the bad concussion shit got me to be organized in ways that I was never able to be before, no matter what I tried. This time, I just fucking get organized, without thinking about it too much. And if I fuck up with my being organized, like I did the other day for work, I admit it, fix it, and move on.

Preparation for isolation (and unexpected natural threats) came by way of the 2018 Northern California (the region where I live) fires that year, which caused the campus to shut down for about a week. (As my friend Steve called it, the smoking break.) And for work, my colleagues and I faced a couple of long term, emergency technical outages that impacted all of the UC Davis faculty, one of them for over a month. Pretty much on a professional and personal level, I was, if not ready, at least getting used to the WTF of whatever life decides to surprise me with. (And lets not forget the really bad fire last September, seen in this video I posted of ash “snow” falling. We did not have to shut down the campus because there was no one there anyway.)

Another aspect of this last year, and one that has been present in my life for a few years now, is the BLM movement and the brutal police violence against Black people in this country. As someone who was a teaching assistant and taught in African American Studies and worked closely with students of color on campus in a student run organization, I was and am still devastated, in part because I know, from hearing so many personal accounts, the pain many of my friends, former colleagues, and former students, are still facing and how overwhelmed they felt and still feel. I understand, if as an outsider, their emotional exhaustion. This has been going on for a while, plus add the years of anti-immigrant hate against the Latinx in the US and the rising tide of violent hate against Asians, and yes, it has been sorrowful. Heartbreaking. And I have, in several ways, including my photography, tried to capture the sorrow and resilience of US people of color. It hurts, almost physically, that many people of color are just tired of talking and dealing with the hate.

So, yes, my situation is unique, but with its own emotionally draining weight. And yes, I am extremely grateful. This leads to the other 2 comments in Reply:

kkomppa

Thank you for sharing, Fern. Very interesting. Like you, I would say my output hasn’t changed much. However, I have sought locations deeper in the wilderness. This has been fulfilling.

schwarzkaeppchen

Really interesting thoughts. We live in strange times, but creativity and motivation comes and goes for so many different reasons. My photography has changed a lot. I used to work as a photographer at events and took portraits for fun... Now I'm officially a portrait photographer.

Both of these comments point to another unique aspect of my life situation: For some of us, our photography and how we do it, has not changed much, and if it has, that has been a part of our overall experience with this art form we love so much.

For me, because of my depressive tendencies, the Zen of photography, at least the way I do it, is therapeutic. And I do not use the  term “Zen” lightly here, because my spiritual life has helped me come to terms with the WTF surprises that are pretty much life, if at times the WTF of it is more impactful, as it is during this COVID19 era. And that is part of what I was trying to share with my original post: Before this period of isolation and disorientation, I was already coming to grips with the gospel truth that “creativity and motivation comes and goes for so many different reasons.” as @schwarzkaeppchen​ said. In no way do I diminish the anguish flared up by these bleak times that impact so many around the world. And really, when you think about it, bleak times have been a norm, at least here in the US, since late 2016, though, of course, lockdowns and physical distance make it all worse. But, at least for me, I try to learn from the bleak times, even if I abhor going through them. And when dealing with the highs and lows of creative energy, at least for me, I have a calm certainty that photography is part of my life and I do not have to worry, since I only love it more each day. And the other side to my certainty is that if someday my love of photography fades, some other treasure of creativity will replace it.

Let’s be real, because of photography. I think about stuff like this and get to have discussions with so many great Tumblr original photographers.

And I am grateful for it, and no, this is not unique to my life situation. I know many of us love being here and sharing the good, the bad, the confounding.

Please think about joining @tvoom and me for InConverversation this month. It has been a long time since we talked, and this COVID19 era will be our topic.

I am grateful for all y’all.

[bluenet13]

A Bloody Mess

Written for @badthingshappenbingo

Fandom: SEAL Team.

Characters: Sonny Quinn, Lisa Davis, Clay Spenser, Stella Baxter.

Prompt: Bloodstained Clothes.

Summary:  Lisa and Clay are always a phone call away. Especially when his relationship is on the rocks again and Sonny ends up in the middle of a fight after trying to drown his sorrows at a bar.

Links: ff.net - AO3

When Lisa's phone rang, her first thought was Sonny. But then she remembered the night before, how her application to join Echo Team had been denied, and the conversation that had followed. Her heart aching as she realized that Sonny wouldn't be calling her anymore, at least for things not related to national security.

Letting it ring, Lisa figured if it was important enough they would call again. She wasn't really in the mood to deal with anyone and it was her day off.

After a few minutes of silence, Lisa sighed, thinking that it was probably a spam call or one of the Bravo boys taking the hint that she wasn't available. But, not three minutes later, the phone rang again so Lisa ran to the kitchen counter where she had left it charging.

Instinctually, Lisa almost grabbed her work bag at the same time as she finally decided to pick the call, but ended up just frowning, hand falling to her side, as she saw the name pop up on her screen. It wasn't the base that's for sure.

"Hi, Stella," Lisa greeted the woman on the other end of the line, grateful that this was just a phone call so she didn't have to fake a smile, along with her cheerful tone. "Is everything okay? Clay alright?" She couldn't help but ask.

"Hi, Lisa… Yeah, Clay's okay. Well, most of him anyways," a nervous laugh escaped Stella and Lisa's frown deepened. "But, it's Sonny, I'm calling about…"

Taking in a deep breath, Lisa drew her hand down her face, because of course it had to be Sonny.

"Have you seen him?" Stella asked nervously as Lisa failed to say anything to her previous comment.

"Not since yesterday," Lisa explained, "when I left Ray's house, the boys were still there, and I don't know what happened afterwards. We haven't spoken since."

"Umm, okay, okay," Stella sounded nervous, and Lisa desperately needed to know what had happened, but she also knew she needed to get some distance from Sonny, regardless of how much it hurt. "Well, thanks anyways. Let us know if you hear from him."

"Wait, Stella," Lisa practically shouted. But then fell quiet. Things with Sonny were complicated, as complicated as they had ever been, but she couldn't just turn off her feelings for him. Sonny had her heart, and deep down she knew whatever happened, she would never be able to stop caring about him. "What happened? What's wrong?"

Stella didn't answer right away, instead Lisa could hear shuffling and whispering, or more like hissing, coming from the other side.

"Davis," another voice said after a few minutes. Clay. Of course he was there.

"Spencer," Lisa muttered, not surprised that whatever trouble Sonny was in, Clay was involved too. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry to call you, I know this might not be what you wanted," Clay said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "I was about to head to Sonny's apartment but Stella suggested we check in with you first."

"Okay," Lisa said simply. Not really surprised that Clay already seemed to know what had happened between her and Sonny the day before. But as much was obvious from his tone. "Clay, what happened?"

"Um, well…"

"Clay! Get on it with it," Lisa hissed.

"Okay, okay, sorry. It's just… Sonny called me last night, like an hour after the rest of us left Ray's house. He didn't sound okay and there were too many voices around for him to be at home, so I asked where he was. He was at a bar. Not one we had been to before. I could hear shouting too. But anyhow, I met him there. And there might have been a fight at some point after that…" Clay's voice cut abruptly, and more angry whispering could be heard on the line.

"Give me the phone, you're taking too long," Stella chided, before she obviously took the phone from Clay. "Sorry, Lisa. The point is Clay went to meet Sonny at the bar, and they ended up in a fight." Stella was trying to sound casual, but her voice was too tight to sound fully natural, and it only told Lisa that she didn't yet know the specifics of said fight. "Afterwards Clay tried to get Sonny to come to the apartment with him, but he refused. They just got an Uber together instead and Clay asked the driver to drop Sonny off first. So we know he made it home, but now we can reach him."

"I've been trying to talk to him all morning, but he's not picking up," Clay resumed the explanation, practically giving Lisa whiplash from all the jumping between the two. "We just thought maybe you had heard from him. But you haven't. So I will just go to his apartment. Thanks and, again, sorry for calling."

"Clay, I'll go."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I live closer to him anyways."

"Okay," Clay agreed easily, his tone betraying that he didn't believe for one second that was the only reason why Lisa wanted to be the one to check up on Sonny.

"Keep us posted, please," Stella added, to which Lisa promised to call back when she knew more, before ending the call.

Sighing, Lisa closed her eyes for a second as she tried to tamper down her emotions. God knows she was really making an effort to respect the rules and get away from Sonny on a personal level, but he just kept reeling her in. She couldn't really say she minded, but Bravo was already under the microscope, and they couldn't further jeopardize all their careers.

But, Sonny was in trouble, so none of that was important now. So, grabbing her purse and keys, Lisa wasted no time in going to his aid, because regardless of the status of their relationship, she would always move heaven and earth to save him; and whether that be from Tangos in foreign lands, or from his own self-destructive tendencies at home, didn't really matter.

-x-x-x-

Not fifteen minutes later, having broken more than a few speed limits in the process, Lisa reached Sonny's apartment and the first thing she noticed was the door being unlocked. Getting closer, Lisa tentatively pushed it open and stepped inside. Feeling a small amount of relief when she found the living room seemingly undisturbed. But her worry returning as soon as she realized Sonny was nowhere in sight.

"Sonny?" Lisa asked, walking further into the familiar apartment.

Getting no answer, Lisa went to Sonny's room but found the bed not slept in, which she was sure of because Sonny was not the type to make his bed before first getting breakfast, and the kitchen had been similarly unused. "Sonny?" She called again, louder this time. But she met only silence.

Moving to Sonny's bathroom Lisa found it empty too and her worry began to increase as she realized that so far she hadn't seen his keys or wallet either. For a brief moment she wondered if maybe Sonny had contacted another member of the team, like Trent since he was the medic. But all further questions flew out of her mind as soon as she noticed the first droplets of blood on the living room floor. Following the path, Lisa reached the last place she had not searched yet.

"Sonny?" Lisa asked again, as she got close to the guest bathroom. The door was slightly ajar but the sight didn't look inviting at all. Lisa couldn't really explain why, until she saw what looked suspiciously like a bloody handprint on the otherwise white wood.

Her mind in overdrive, Lisa pushed the door open and gasped as soon as she saw Sonny collapsed on the bathroom floor, blood soaking the tile and pooling under him. His clothes were so bloody that Lisa wondered how she hadn't seen a blood trail as soon as she came into the apartment, or maybe she had, and her mind had just tried to protect her by blocking the sight until it just couldn't do it anymore.

"Hey, Sonny, wake up," Lisa said as soon as she was kneeling next to him, doing her best to avoid all the blood on the floor. But Sonny didn't answer or even stir.

Running back to Sonny's room, Lisa grabbed the medkit that he kept in his bathroom before she again kneeled next to him. Slowly, she lifted Sonny's hand from where it was pressed to his side, quickly having noticed this was the bloodiest spot on his shirt, and instantly cursed when she noticed the very obvious stab wound.

"Damn it, Sonny," she said to herself. "And damn you, Clay." Because how could he not have realized this would need stitches and probably antibiotics too, just to be safe.

Trying to be careful but effective, Lisa grabbed gauze and pushed down on the gushing wound, attempting to halt the flow of blood, because seeing how much of it was currently on the floor and on Sonny's jeans and shirt, Lisa knew he couldn't afford to lose any more of it.

Lisa's movements must have been careful enough because Sonny didn't wake through it all, but as soon as she began packing the wound, he began to stir and grunt. His eyes flying open as soon as Lisa pushed the gauze further in.

"Stay there, don't move," Lisa said through gritted teeth as soon as Sonny tried to move away. She hated to cause Sonny pain, of the physical kind at least, because she knew the day before she had caused him a lot of emotional ache. But she knew enough of first aid, from her own training and also Trent, to recognize she needed to pack the wound to stop further hemorrhaging.

"Lisa?" Sonny asked, eyes now at half-mast, his breathing coming in small puffs of air, except when he gasped every time Lisa pushed more gauze into the wound. "What are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you that question, Sonny," Lisa argued, barely able to suppress her anger, "you should be in a hospital!"

"No need, I took care of it," Sonny explained, a sad imitation of a grin on his face.

"Does this look taken care of?" Lisa hissed, lifting a bloody towel to show Sonny how not taken care of this really was. "You're lucky you didn't bleed out! Of all the stupid things… I swear I will kill you myself if you ever pull a stunt like this again." Lisa continued to rant, even as she never stopped working, finishing packing the wound before taping the gauze in place and moving to check the rest of Sonny.

"Okay, maybe not taken care of," Sonny admitted softly, letting out a nervous chuckle. "But, don't be mad," he whined, looking up at Lisa as his eyes began to flutter shut. "I don't like it when you're mad with me."

"Don't you dare pass out on me, Sonny Quinn," Lisa threatened, "and if you don't want me to be mad, then stop doing stupid shit like this!"

"I'm sorry," Sonny said with a pained exhale, "didn't mean to get into the fight, just wanted a drink…"

"Didn't you have enough drinks at Ray's?" Lisa asked incredulously, even as she knew she was the reason he needed more.

At that, Sonny just shrugged, letting his eyes finally close.

"Sonny!" Lisa shouted, shaking him awake, and gently slapping his cheeks.

Opening his eyes, Sonny tried to focus on Lisa, throwing her his best apologetic look, but his eyes began to flutter again. "Sorry, tired," he mumbled.

"Come on, please Sonny you got to stay awake," Lisa begged.

Finally convinced that the worst of the wounds was treated for now, and Sonny wouldn't bleed out in front of her, Lisa took her phone out of her pocket and searched her favorites list for Trent's number. But a weak hand on her arm stopped her so she looked down.

"What are you doing?" Sonny asked weakly.

"What do you think I'm doing? I'm calling Trent, then I'm calling 9-1-1," Lisa snapped.

"No, don't call Trent. I'm okay. And, the team can't know about this." Sonny explained weekly, using his remaining strength to try to lift himself from the floor, but he only made it a few inches before he collapsed again, ending up slumped in between the sink and wall.

"Sonny how do you expect to hide this?" Lisa asked, gesturing to his body.

"And this," a voice said from the door, and both Sonny and Lisa turned to find Stella pointing at Clay's black eye, and split lip.

"How can we help?" Clay said at the same time as Stella spoke, his key to Sonny's apartment still held tightly on his hand.

"I think you already helped enough," Lisa quipped, looking at Clay with accusatory eyes.

"I, um…" Clay ran his hand through his hair, wincing when he got too far down and bumped the bruise on his eye. The explanation of what had happened was something for Sonny to share with Lisa, so with nothing to say, Clay just ignored her and moved forward, kneeling on Sonny's other side and beginning to pack and wrap a smaller wound.

"It's not his fault," Sonny said.

"The hell it's not!" Lisa all but shouted, "why is it you two always end up in trouble together?"

Clay and Sonny shared a brief look at the question, both shrugging because they didn't have a good answer.

"Clay was only helping," Sonny explained, his voice barely above a whisper. "I got into a fight at this bar, and even I have self-preservation enough to know I wouldn't get far against seven. They were blocking the exit so I hid in the bathroom and called Clay."

"And you just showed up, just like that?" Lisa couldn't help but ask.

"Yes," Stella said simply.

"Of course," Clay said at the same time, his tone basically asking how could he not.

"So, yeah, Clay showed up and I was still locked inside the bathroom," Sonny stopped as he began to stumble on his words, "he tried to get the men to back down and leave us alone. Apologized for whatever had happened. But then I heard a crash and Clay grunting. I got out, and well, a fight broke out. And one of them must have had a knife." He ended the explanation with a hopeless shrug.

"I'm sorry I couldn't stop this from happening," Clay said sincerely, looking at Lisa, "but this is the first time I'm hearing anything about knives. My guys were all fists," he explains, pointing to his black eye.

"A lot of fists apparently," Stella added, stepping close to Clay, and lifting his shirt to show various hand-shaped bruises on his abdomen.

Uncomfortable with the attention, Clay pushed his shirt back down and continued working on Sonny's injuries. Now gently prodding the bruising on his friend's stomach, trying to determine if they should also be worried about internal injuries or broken ribs.

"Lisa, did you already call Trent or should I?" Stella asked with a wince, needing to feel useful but also feeling sympathetic towards her boyfriend and his best friend, because Trent wouldn't be a happy man when he set his eyes on them.

"No Trent," Sonny said again.

"Come on, Sonny. Even you must be smart enough to know we can hide this from the team. They will find out eventually," Clay retorted.

"Bravo is already in hot water. Can't make it worse," Sonny tried to argue.

"Okay, we can figure out what to do about the team later, but I'm calling 9-1-1 now," Lisa said, stopping any further discussion and already beginning to dial.

"Can you just put in some stitches? I don't care if the scar is pretty," Sonny begged.

"Maybe last night, but now you also need a transfusion and antibiotics. Too bad you didn't think it important enough to ask for help when this happened," Lisa pointed out.

Grunting, Sonny let his head fall into his chest, knowing that he wasn't winning this argument.

"I'll go make the call. Stella, keep an eye on these two and make sure they don't make any more dumb choices," Lisa said, even as she sent a grateful look Clay's way. Because even with Stella back in the picture, Clay had dropped everything and got himself into a fight just to help Sonny. And Lisa was sincerely thankful knowing that Clay would always be the one standing alongside her on Sonny's self-destructive corner.

Stella just nodded but said nothing, and as Lisa walked out, she had the decency to silently wonder if maybe she should have asked the other woman to call instead. Stella was looking a little green, and her stomach must have been queasy at the sight and smell of all the blood. Another reminder that this world she had chosen was really different to hers, but showing this time she was fully committed to making it work because her love for Clay was greater than her fears.

"Ambulance should be here soon," Lisa said as soon as she stepped back into the room, instantly going back to the floor and sitting next to Sonny. And, against her better judgment, intertwining their fingers together.

"Thank you," Sonny whispered, squeezing her hand weakly.

"Anytime, Sonny, anytime," Lisa promised. And even if the previous day had again shaken their dreams and thrown new hurdles their way, Lisa was certain those words would always be nothing but the truth.

A knock on the door broke the moment, as everyone moved back into action. Stella going to open the door for the paramedics, and Clay moving to Sonny's room to grab his go bag and some clean clothes so he could later change out of the bloodstained ones, while Lisa stayed right by Sonny's side.

With the two stab wounds already packed and their patient stable enough, the paramedics made quick work of loading Sonny into a stretcher and wheeling him down to the waiting ambulance. Lisa, Clay and Stella following close behind.

As they reached the parking lot, Clay and Stella stood to the side while Sonny was moved into the ambulance, Lisa jumping in after him, her posture and scowl daring the paramedics to object. Both Clay and Stella ready to get in her car and follow them to the hospital.

Just before the double doors to the ambulance closed, Lisa looked back at Clay and mouthed a silent thank you. Because as it turned out she wasn't the only one ready to move heaven and earth to keep Sonny safe.

Silently, Clay nodded nonchalantly, moving closer to Stella and drawing her to him. Holding his girlfriend's hand, Clay nodded again, a smile on his face. His eyes telling Lisa all that his words weren't. There was a lot to figure out and Lisa still needed to learn the specifics of what had happened at the bar and to remind Sonny that he needed to take better care of himself, not only for them, but also for his unborn child. But at that moment, Lisa truly believed that in the end everything would be okay. All the proof she needed was standing right in front of her, because just a year ago Clay and Stella seemed impossible, but here they were. And someday in the future, Sonny and Lisa would be too.

[nathank77]

9/15/24

11:44 a.m

The cramping stopped, I've had a sandwich with each pill of my antibiotics. I feel like a fat ass.

For all I know it was brief food poisoning. All I know is I'd rather be a fatty for another 5 days than risk having such extremely painful cramping.. I can lose whatever I gain.

I've been getting a slight pulsating above my left ear today. I've also been having some popping in my ears but not a lot.

My tsh being normal is a good thing, it means I can celebrate the weight loss if the scale was correct that is... but I mean inevitably eating another sandwich a day for a week solid will raise the scale. I'd rather that than having that cramping. I feel bad for women who get extreme cramps for their period cause holy fuck it hurts. I will be off the antibiotic by Thursday and be able to go back to my regular diet.

I'm terrified of going to the eye Dr this week it's far away and idk what she's going to do. I'm worried she will want to poke my eyes......... also I'm prob going to have to do a standard eye exam. I'm wondering if my script went up. I can't afford it. Idk if they will do that but I think it's likely.

Idk what to think about these extract white mulberries as I play a game with less dialogue I believe they aren't as powerful.

Then i think about weed for example- a gram of weed has 30% thc in it. When you buy a vape it has let's say 3.5 grams thc extracted into it to make 80% thc in the vape. But the weed and extracts are regulated by the government... but extracts are a thing....

I'm back on the other brand feeling like its ineffective. Idk....

Then I think of synaptic pruning. And it takes years. It happens when children are growing but happens over life too. So Maybe one day my neurons will return to normal but I doubt it.

I took a little more last night to make sure my circadian rhythm is back to 10:30... I hope tonight I fall asleep easily bc otherwise we are smoking weed..... unfortunately... expired vape weed.... that I want nothing to do with.

I'm lonely. I'm playing silent hill and having a red bull day bc I deserve it but I'm sick of being alone and fighting so hard for this life.

I'm trying alternative ways to bypass hdcp but idk if its possible we will see. As I really want to play shattered memories and silent hill 1.

Idk I'm just feeling unfulfilled....

I did sleep well but I always do on more....I had strange dreams. Katie came back to me. She knew I was her soulmate. I kept thinking what if Elise shows up for me I don't think Katie is my soulmate...

In the dream I was taking care of Nala and keeki.

Beyond that 3 girls were in love with me and moved in, I forgot who they were. They stole all my silent hill games. I kept looking for them.

I dream a lot of my car being destroyed. That didn't happen in my dream. But the most valuable things I own are my car and those silent hill games.

When I die my sister will sell those games never having played them. Instead of cherishing them for what they are some of my most sentimental memories. If I was to die, I'd want them buried with me or given to my children and I'd want them passed down the line. In 200 years they'll be worth millions.... rather than the Hundreds they are worth now... and beyond that they are one of the only things that bring me true joy.

I want my car passed down too. But I have no one to give it to that won't sell it.

All I know is I'm sick of living in a virtual world. I want a real life.

[daughterofhel]

.

My icon died last night.

The little black and white cat, Auk (or-ick). A silly name from a badly remembered name from my childhood.

He was pretty much deaf; car got him.

I haven’t seen him since I left Texas, as I moved for a year to VA before finally moving to be with my wife in Vento. One of my guy friends family took him in on their ranch.

It was fitting; I did get Auk from a ranch. He was used to it, loved it even. And this was without the competition of an unhealthy amount of breeding stays like the ones I grabbed him and Ivy up from. I could only take two, my friend the same.

Funny. I had originally gone there to see the birth of a colt only to leave with a cat. Return the next day and get one more, a friend for my tiny runt of a thing.

And who should but all demand it be him to leave with me but Auk? The friendliest of cats that I’ve ever had the pleasure to be around. He also thwarted my attempts at having two girl cats. He was insistent to leave with me and you don’t argue when you’re chosen you know?

I won’t detail the tears following or the rough road and chaos that went on, but many double shifts back to back to back endlessly, a medicated clumsy grandmother with rapidly failing health, and complex roommate situations, I just wasn’t able to provide the needed time and care for my cats.

I cried the entire 45 minute drive to my buddys property when he said he could take them in. I had to pull over twice. They also cried the entire time, being afraid of the car, which made it harder. My buddy, He was the same guy who rescued a big pup clearly abandoned some years back. I had helped train him to not jump on people and other stuff. His folks also owned a longhorn ranch, lots and lots of space.

Those cats deserved better and this was a familiar element, now neutered, vaccinated, and with no stray competition and the dog was so careful. But god. I never wanted to say goodbye to my cats. It didn’t matter though, what I wanted; they needed care and time I wasn’t able to keep providing.

So I dropped them off. As expected, Ivy kept close but never got too close to the family. She simply doesn’t trust; I’ve no idea why such a little thing bonded instantly with me and remained quite the fixed cuddle bug. But she had. I felt worse about it with her than Auk if I’m to be honest.

Auk loved attention. Loved fetch. Belly rubs. This cat was a classic dog and a huge whore for attention. XD He essentially made himself at home and lavished any and all attention, to which my buddies mother instantly fell for this fuzzy dorks charms. He has been well cared for.

I know younger me could’ve and should’ve done better when I got these cats. Mind you, I’ve been gone for over 10 years now, so it has been quite some time. I’m doing what I wish I could have done for my cats then with the two rescues we got last year here.

I was young and working so many hours for nearly no profit after stuff was paid, even living at home and with roommates. I couldn’t afford the extra vet fees I needed or the fanciest of foods or any of that. I loved them, and I felt them being with me instead of the half starving state they were in from constantly competing with so many other cats, was still a better option for them. I still was at least able to do some of the important visits for them.

I cleared their fleas and earmites. I never did get rid of Ivys worms, though I desperately tried. I tried so many ways to get this pill into that cat. Even crushed into wet food. Friends helping to wrap and hold her to make her swallow. All the tricks we found, failed. She just. She wouldn’t take it. And I didn’t have the cash to go every single day and time she needed a dose to a pet clinic. I had checked more than once. It was so much money.

Older, better situated now.. I’ve been able to do right by the cats, Nyx and Tivali, that I have now.

We even saved Nyx’s eye. We have a system to give her her seizure medicine every 12 hours. They’re both fully up to date with their shots and are fixed. Ears totally clean. Monthly newly added anti flea tick collars.

The best food we can reasonably find at the local pet shop; their pelts are beautiful, soft, shiny, and they never smell.

We’ve even found a biodegradable corn based litter we can flush which has been the greatest find.

We get semi regular check ups on our girls and they’re doing just fine now. I’m still proud about saving Nyx’s eye. It was a tedious ordeal. 3-4 times a day we had to clean and medicate a cats eye. We got good at it even if she wasn’t fond of it. Thankfully the vitamins they required were like treats. Even the antibiotics from the colds they had from the shelter.

I miss Auk. And Ivy. And I wish I could’ve not only given them the life I’ve given my current cats now, (I’ve constructed basket beds, hammocks, a whole canopy jungle gym and rope bridge to boot for them with my wife!), but I wish I could have been the one to have them in my life still. I know it was not possible. It wouldn’t have been possible.

But I think of them. A lot. And I knew it was inevitable. Auk would’ve been well over 13 or so years by now. A little old but could’ve lived longer yet for sure. My buddy didn’t mention he has gone deaf. Of course he rarely goes home himself; I don’t blame him. Life’s complicated.

I have mourned these two cats multiple times now. So I’m not thrown into tears upon this news, I’ve cried plenty over the years already. But I’m still sad to hear that fuzzy delight has passed on. I won’t ask, but I hope, and believe, the accident was a quick end for such a friendly guy.

I’ll mourn him eventually in full. I know I will. But considering this is the fourth major bad news I’ve gotten in less than a month and most of it a week, I thought to write about it. If only to keep sane.

May I not receive the same news of my grandmother or my sister who both remain in the hospital.

And god. May my mother stop forcing me to recall and talk about our shared trauma under my father and just keep me up to date on my families health. I don’t want to be crushed under this suffocating vice on my neck that makes me hesitate to call and see my family. I know she needs to vent. And god. I try to let her. I do. I try to be kind; she needs it.

But it isn’t the time and place when I’m trying to figure out if my grandmother is dying or getting better. I shouldn’t have to receive that confirmation, be granted a brief video called hello and check in, with the price of an hour long dredge through a past I personally have gone to two different types of therapy through to try and cope with. Which, only to some degree, have helped.

One of the last longer calls we had she all but said she hoped her theories on my father possible molesting me were true, so, you know, that would be one more trauma we had in common. She went on and on, even trying to provide loose evidence to her theory. Troubling sentences I would say in my rare visits. Etc. She just. Wouldn’t. Stop. And that was after an hour of recalling how terrible her life was with my father and the abuse, the screaming, the terror, the hiding, the injuries, all of it. As if I wasn’t left to live my life with this very man she said her three years with ruined her more than all her past shit combined.

She assured me she was a good mother who tried. And honestly. No. But I do believe she tried. But she was already weak emotionally and mentally and my father wrecked what was left. She left me sometimes for a couple days lock in that house when I was in diapers. You don’t forget that shit. I’m still scared of the dark. I can’t reason with myself on it. But being mad about all of it doesn’t change anything and would hurt a woman already broken. Why would I do that.

Still. It bothers me. So fucking much. But she’s such a fragile person in a fragile emotional state with everything else on top. She’s been heavily depressed for many many years and it’s a bunch of other stuff that spirals and honestly, at this point, she’s toxic even to herself. I’ve tried working on it with her but it matters not if she’s not willing to work on it too. I don’t know my mother besides her many traumas. We’ve been separated and estranged for most of my life. Unless I was physically able to actually be there and provide a use.

But that’s par for the course; no one will have you around if you’re unable to provide something for it. My wife’s the first person who genuinely seems to enjoy having me around just because and wants nothing more. I do stuff of course; but with her I am not afraid a slip up could mean everything it taken away and lost. I can forget the dishes once or had a bad mental health day and stay in bed without it having catastrophic consequences. She’s such a wonderful kind woman; I cannot help stressing over how to repay her.

I try and I’ve expressed my distraught on the topic and though she always seems baffled and confused about my insistence that I should be doing far more, that lass doesn’t agree at all. It’s her parents home so I am not able to freely run the house as I would on our own, as I’m able and have in many places, so I’m often less useful with the restrictions. She’s also use to the flow and swing of things and has things half done before it’s being asked.

Our own place will make life smoother and calmer for both of us; most importantly her. I’ve watched this family, sweet, but absolutely tone deaf to how many and often their demands are tossed to her. All the other kids moved out with partners. Hell, the oldest s child basically lives here. Our own hurdle with raising a kid who we don’t have the final say on any single thing. His grandparents are enablers cuz they don’t want to hear any loud noises, no matter what. And that causes strain when the kid can and does get anything and everything as long as he kicks up a fit. And he sure as hell does. There are days it’s so bad my wife’s in tears. And that pisses me off. The kids a good person, but the fact no one will actually parent and draw definite lines and be firm with No’s can also make him horrible too.

I’ve to deal with the chess match that is my father. I often call him my own personal Devil. He kind of is. But one I’m familiar enough with at this point in my life. I know where and when to cut my losses, where to step around, when I need to swallow my pride or the easily seen through lies, and nod my head. If he was all terrible, I could have cut him from my life. But no one ever really is. And I do know I owe it to the man; he has helped tremendously in my life as much as he’s been a big problem of it. I know his biggest fear is to be alone and forgotten. I wouldn’t do that, not even to the devil.

I need some bland news. Not thrilling. Not depressing. Just some ‘hey that happened’ ‘oh cool.’ Kind of news. Just a small reprieve.

Im. Scared. Of what’s next.

I. Know that things are teetering dangerously into a very very tragic terrible story on my mothers end. I know her husbands already super suicidal. My half brothers severely autistic, non verbal, among a few other things and will require his whole life to have someone be there for him. He’s not stupid, and I hate when people treat him as so, but he is absolutely unable to care for himself. He doesn’t have the right motorskills even, though we’ve gone to many different places to try and help him find ways to do actions in his own way that still get the same result. I admire how he’s such a positive little man, generally not just happy, but delighted. I aspire to look at the world like he does. He reminds me to try. I do love that about him.

He is, however, a Big boy, 15 now, and growing. He’s also very strong now. My mother is getting to an age where his, as well call em happy slaps, are really hurting her. He is generally good about slapping your hands and not your back if you provide them. But when he is upset he is a shover; one bad fall could really cause a lot of chaos for my mother with her health. The husband spends most of his time locked in his room.

My half sister is epileptic. They have done tests for years and can’t figure out all her triggers or the whys. They just sometimes stop for a long time then suddenly happen. She’s 16, turning 17 soon. And I don’t even know if she’s going to be, since my mother won’t let me know. And there are large gaps from my sister being on tech due to concerns of what triggered her seizure this time so she’s often removed from electronic devices for a time.

When I had turned 21, my mother and her husband tried to have me sign a paper to become legal guardian of my half siblings, should something happen to them, so the kids didn’t get separated.

At that time, I was still taking care of my fathers mother along with working at a shit job, and had a house full of temporary roommates who I had offered rooms to as a sort of safe house for them. I have a knack for finding people from broken homes, what can I say? With the house my father and I built, we had space, so I used it. I was able to help the girls get out of toxic places, get on their feet, and move on. Not all of them always. But it did generally work out. One has a boyfriend who was growing worse to her on top of getting more and more into hard drugs while also she dealing with an abusive aunt who got worse once her mother died of cancer. So she was stuck with the terrible boyfriend. I had her stay with me as soon as I heard.

Another was complicated, but generally revolved around the alcoholic mother and the many, shady, men in and out of the house. The dangers of that alone were.. problematic without the friend also being suicidal and not taken seriously. I’ve stayed many times with her to just hang out, clean, cook, or even read a book cuz she just wanted to hear someone talking and such. You know? Until eventually I had her move in with me too.

Another’s mothers died of a cancer and dad an alcoholic; not abusive, he just became childlike and super forgetful. To a hurtful degree in his totally dependent state, whenever he was home. Plus their whole little trailer smelled of piss. And her boyfriend (they’re married with kids and happy now) was in jail. He had a bad past but had cleaned up his act quite well, but. Well that’s complicated. We all know that the police don’t squint at details of any issue if the accused has a problematic past.

I had two different girls with trouble at home who were being used by their family to constantly work, clean, and pay for everything.

I had an ex and her girlfriend with problematic homophobic parents who were terrible and semi violent so I had them stay with us so they could be together somewhere safer.

I did not. At all. Have the assured means to also be a parent of ten children with very different needs nor any medical benefits to help out with.

I also knew, that, with how my mothers husband was, if he had some guarantees for his children’s safety, he would likely end his life if he could. He’s been so close so many times. If signed this paper, he would have the last big most important concern that’s kept him from.. I just. I didn’t want him to do it. I selfishly didn’t want to be responsible for my siblings that would take away any bit of time I had for myself away. If anything happened, I would not abandon and forget my siblings. That’s absurd. But my mother implied heavily she wanted to be sure of that. And thus this paper.

I was struggling to find aid for college so I could go to school (never got to, by the way. Minus two classes in total. Aced them both, but it doesn’t matter. Credits in the wind). I was already dealing with my grandmother. The girls I chose to help. My shit job. My fathers temper and his horrible horrible ‘on again off again’ girlfriend. The chaos that alone committed.

I was busy providing a safe space in my home and making sure it stayed that way for the rare times trouble makers made the mistake of stepping up to my door to try and harass my girls.

I often worked 10 days in a row before a day off. Many of those days often had double shifts which were 16 hours. Sometimes I got an hour nap on the double shifts.

I just couldn’t do it.

And now. I remember something that came to mind back then that comes back to mind now. My moms husband adores my grandma. She’s been better to him than his own mother. She’s dying. He’s not taking it well and his mental health has always been pretty low and in the last couple years, already dangerously rock bottom. I’ll admit, same.

His daughter is now in the hospital. My brother is smart but there are some things we can’t really explain for him to get. He understands something is wrong but not sure what and it upsets him. He doesn’t like change and gets super fussy for it. Which can be taxing and hours and days and weeks of it. Grandmas been in the hospital for a couple more or more now. She coded a few days ago but they got her back.

If grandma dies. If something happens to my sister…

God. I don’t see that man sticking around.

And with my mom isolated. A lot of it her doing with her own family but also a good part of it being dumb petty bs of other folks that have no reason to behave like that (a whole drama I don’t have the energy to keep up with..). I just.

I see it as a domino effect of terrible terrible events I don’t want to write.

My mothers side im not very close to. I don’t blame my cousins, we were kids ajd our meetings were brief as they were. But the adults kept their distance with me. No one expected me to survive and decided it was easier to not get attached. To not get involved with me, and by extension, the devil himself, my father. So I never got the chance to know that family. Even when I tried.

So the only family I do have some ties to ajd know, is in a hospital bed, or on my dads side, and they’re dying to. And I get it… that at a certain age in life, many of the people around you start to. It’s just life. Ajd it sucks. And I miss having a best friend. I miss having friends who just seem to like to have me around. Want to have me around.

And I wonder if the friends I thought I made with my roommates were just because I provided something for them. Sure we laughed a lot, we cried over shared traumas, celebrated holidays together so as to not be alone.

But not a one speaks to me now. And hey. That’s also life. But it makes me feel pretty shitty; every where I look in the past, I can’t see any relationship, family, partner, friendship, that ever had me around unless I was providing services they wanted and needed. And I don’t mean the natural give and take.

I’m aware that I’m not the friend folks have around. I’m a fun distraction at best and have been told and reminded as such. I feel like shit cuz my wife’s wonderful and the best person in my life, and yet I still mourn having close friends to hang with. I miss gaming together the most. Or the bullshitting. Sharing food.

I’m not a nice person. I’m working on it. I am. I’ve also, for years, been working on my own personal problems so as to not bring them into even conversations. I don’t know what I am doing wrong but I just.. can’t seem to keep anyone around. And frankly.

I find myself crying about it a lot with no idea what to do.

And. I’m burnt out.

I don’t want to make friends anymore. And yet I still crave it. Which sucks. I can’t stop seeming to want that. And I keep trying. And trying.

I’m trying to accept and be happy with any bit of time I get from the few friends who talk to me. I try to take my chances where I can to hang out (online, as they’re all distance by now), cuz I know it’s a short window and I’ll be lucky to get a next time in the near future.

Online is harder to provide a use, and once the ‘honeymoon phase’ of the friendship winds down, some drop off the map entirely. A few abruptly. And I just. That’s fucked me ho a ton. I can’t even express how many hours I stay sitting. Thinking. Unable to understand what I am not doing or what I am.

It’s a pity party. I know. But it’s fine. I’m still the only one at it and though I’m quite forward even with nerves eating away at me, I still just don’t know how to keep anyone in my life.

It’s taken almost 6 years for me to relax enough to believe my wife will, in fact, stick around.

But at this point in time, I’ve realized, on a note I just keep getting really sad over, that the bits of friendship I’ll get to experience with people, will be brief, snippets, and frankly, only if I am providing something they’re not getting.

I’m essentially the magazine next to the toilet when you have a bad bad stomach bug and your phones dead.

Man’s that’s.. probably my own doing. I know I’m a lot of woe is me in here. And it’s a post talking to me, so I’m indulging in it. I absolutely can’t out loud or in life. I’m working on just.. trying to feel instead of ignoring it. Per my therapists suggestions. So I feel fucking overwhelmed, sad, and alone. Isolated. Heavily.

Ignorance is bliss for real. I wish I wasn’t so aware that I was the friend you go to when all options are down and you’re bored. When you are in a bind and need a safe spot (I don’t mind that one but it does suck that it’s the only time some folks pop back in or up). That if I’m not working then no one even has a small little want to just say hi. I wish I had people who just wanted to say hi because they just.. missed me? I gues?

I wish I knew how to be better as a person and a friend. I thought I was making strides on that. I really had. And yet.

Here I am. Just.

Bitching to the void. Becuase my wife doesn’t need me to add more to her life with her father (finally back from the hospital after surgery) and his health concerned along with everyone else’s and the own sets of ordeals here. I don’t need her to fret over me.

She’s needed distraction and I’ve left her alone for a couple weeks now to her drawing. Probably one of the best things I did do for her was clean up a space for a literal drawing room for her. She’s happier for it. People compliment her art and she rather enjoys the well deserved attention.

I personally would love to have her around more. But I’m having a lot of bad shit days. Weeks at this point. And I’m using my energy to be useful in setting the table or doing the dishes, the cats, playing with the nephew, etc.

All I want to do is sleep.

Frankly. I’m tired of waking up.

But for her. I will.