#can’t afford a massage so I guess I’ll just suffer

[sapphicspacebitch]

Ugh my neck hurts so fucking bad 😫 someone should come kiss it better 🥺

[evien-stark]

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 134

It was severely embarrassing not being able to climb the stairs without running out of breath- but, you decided to give yourself a pass, considering you were pretty sure your windpipe was still bruised. Added to the fact that you were also pretty sure an anxiety attack was swelling on the horizon, with how tight your chest felt. So. Maybe now was the time to go a little bit easier on yourself. Perhaps it would help with the healing process, if that was even working anymore. 

When the two of you got upstairs, sunlight greeted you. Morning had come. Tony had not slept. And he would continue to not do so, you realized, as he mumbled something about getting to work on the elevator. And as he stepped into the suit so he could wedge Steve’s shield out of the door, you similarly decided to give yourself something to focus on. Though when you went to get the broom to start sweeping up broken glass, he told you, “You don’t have to do that. I’ll get to it.” 

And the easy response to that was, “I have to do something.” So he left you alone after that. Knowing the feeling all too well. So you cleaned up the living room. Cleaned up what you could of the window he’d busted through and made calls for a replacement. Then you went to the kitchen and put on another pot of coffee. It was going to be a long day. 

Just as it entered into its finishing gurgles, you felt him coming up behind you. So overly aware of everything right now and incredibly tense, but at least when he put his hand on your shoulder you didn’t startle. From your leaned in position on the counter you turned to look up at him. “I was making coffee for you…” Feeling tired, too, but probably nowhere near as close as he was. “You should probably eat something, too.” Taking care of him was easy. It was easy to do and focus on. Unlike everything else. 

Maybe he thought the same, as his arms came around you, drawing you in, holding you tight. “So should you. You wanna order something?” 

As you buried your face against his chest, shaking your head, already your mind was going a million miles a minute. Kicked up into high speed at the mere prospect of a certain someone. “We can’t- what if he’s… what if he takes the person coming to deliver it- and messes with the food or-” 

He stopped both your hiding and your panic-ridden babbling, moving his hands to your arms to ease you away from him just so he could get a look at you. “Alright. Relax. Take a breath. That’s a lot of paranoia.” 

“How can we afford to not be paranoid right now?” For sure he was right. Thinking about Kilgrave lurking around every corner waiting to strike… you couldn’t live life like that. Thinking he was waiting for the right moment to poison your breakfast… maybe that was a little ridiculous. But… but… 

“If we let him control every move we make, he’s already won. And he didn’t need to say anything to do it.”

You stood there looking at him for a long time. Thinking about this. Tony was usually right about most things. If he thought you couldn’t live life right now rethinking every move you made… he was probably right. However… that brought up what had been talked about only hours ago. “I don’t know if it’s what he wants, but… we need the team to leave.” Jessica understood now. Finally. And it had been your first move. To not get them involved with him. 

Tony’s hands rubbed up and down your arms a few times over as his lips pressed together and then finally he turned away, reaching up into one of the cabinets to start making two cups of coffee. “After yesterday? I agree with you. Luckily, Banner and I have a few more pings on the scanner. But we have to get through the next town hall debate. Which will be full arguing about what’s more pressing.” 

You crossed your arms, turning your back to lean against the counter again. “Kilgrave is one man in one city. Hydra has the scepter and various Chitauri parts and there’s no telling what they’ve been doing with tme. Or what they plan on doing with them. That’s far more important.” 

The sound of coffee pouring into a deep mug was almost soothing, for one reason or another. “On the larger scale, I agree with you. But. Well, you did mention my bias not too long ago…” Smiling weakly to himself. 

Meaning Hydra was after the world. That was important. But Kilgrave was after you. So to Tony… that was more important. Which was going to make this a lot harder. “You should go with them.” 

“Out of the question.” Said mere seconds after you’d spoken. He put the coffee pot back on the burner a little bit hard. 

“Tony- if he gets to you-” Painful to think about. 

“He won’t.” 

“You don’t know that.” Turning again to look at him. And he was very pointedly fixing the cups of coffee for the both of you. To avoid your stare. “Think about it this way- how many times have I-... what’s the quickest way idiots devise to get to you? It’s always me.” Vanko. Loki had tried. Killian wanted you to suffer merely to torment him at first. “So if he starts wondering what the quickest way to get me to-” 

“I won’t get compromised.” He was struggling now. Trying valiantly not to raise his voice. But he was getting flustered and upset. 

“And if you do?” 

He turned to meet you finally. “Then you don’t budge. Not even for me.” 

“Tony.” Not a tone of admonishment, instead hard spoken because… how could he even say something like that? “You know that’s not how that would go.” 

The two of you looked at each other for a long time, but finally he seemed to crack a little, his shoulders sliding down as he let go of a breath. “It was worth a shot.” Reaching out, his hands palmed over your hips, bringing you closer. You acquiesced easily, nowhere else you’d rather be than close and in his arms. “...can we talk about the elephant in the room?” 

It may have been unfortunate you didn’t know what he was getting at. “Which one? There’s so many I’m starting to suffocate.” Laying your head on his chest as you asked. 

“I’ve been thinking. About what Jones said. About what happened with Steve.” He was murmuring now, in that thoughtful way of his. Like the gears were still turning in his brain working to get some sort of understanding ahead of his speech. “If you can break whatever this is, whatever he’s doing… can’t you do that on yourself?” 

Maybe it was a true testament to just how much you loved him. Just how much you trusted him. Because you didn’t immediately think he was asking about your time prior with Kilgrave. Because if you could do that, how come you didn’t escape earlier? Instead… instead he was focusing on the now. What could you do if it happened again? Could you break free? Could you get out? 

But… “I don’t know- it’s not… it’s hard to explain. When I look at people like that- when I see them…” Trying to recall what exactly that space looked like. What it felt like to be there- and how to put that into words. “I don’t see myself, too.” In fact, you couldn’t recall a single time that you had. You didn’t see you. Just everyone else. Even when you put your hands on people… it was still just like looking only at them. “It’s only just… someone else. And to break that control, it literally is like smashing it to pieces. But I see it on them. So I can break it. I… I guess I’ve never thought about it before. But I just don’t see myself.” 

Huh. Was it strange? That you’d never thought about that until just this moment? 

He was trying to contend with this information, but like always with the thing, it was a little out of his wheelhouse. No matter how hard he tried to comprehend it. You weren’t machinery and math. So it was understandable why it was so vexing… for him to not be able to get all aspects of this. Honestly, you’d love for that to be the case. For him to just figure it all out for you. But… this was all on you. 

Even so, his head dropped a little yet his eyebrows lifted and he waved his hand halfheartedly. “Okay. So what that sounds like to me is… I have your back, and you’ll have mine.” 

“Always.” Though you were the one speaking, it was like he’d pulled the word right out of you. Easy to just agree because the two of you were a team. Always. “But…” 

“No but. Don’t do but.” His arms moved to lay just a little over your shoulders, hands hooking up to thread his fingers through your hair, holding the back of your head in his strong hands. 

Reaching up, you soothed your hands over his wrists, looking at him. “If it were someone after you, and it was me-”

“Yeah. So what. I’d put you as far away as possible until I dealt with it. Is that what you wanna hear?” One brow lifting in a wry arch, lips twisting in a half pout. “Fine. But. We already agreed I’m a hypocrite. So it’s a done deal. I’m not leaving you. Glad we could come to terms on this.” His fingers massaged a slow rhythm at the base of your skull. 

Something that soothed the ache and chased away the migraine almost immediately. Or maybe that was just him. Your smile was bittersweet. “You’re impossible, you know that?” 

“Terribly aware. One of my best and worst character flaws, to be sure.” Grinning weakly then. As much as he was able to muster. 

“A flaw is a flaw. There’s no best.” 

“Agree to disagree.” 

“I thought we already did that.” 

“Seems like we’re very good at it.” 

The two of you were doing what you did best. Hiding behind quick quips to cover for your cowardice and fear. And possibly not having the energy to deal with what you were facing anymore. Maybe sometimes it was easier to fall into moments like this. Pretend everything was normal. That word you wished for more often than not these days. Yet it never once seemed closer. In fact… more often, further away. Every time you thought about it. 

You laid your head against his chest again and his arms came around you loosely. There was a slight rumble of thought against your ear, until finally, “You know… if you’d like to discuss the meaning of hypocrisy, by the way- aren’t you the one who’s always saying we’re a team?” 

“Tony…” A small whine. 

“I’m just saying. You’re barking up this whole if it were me tree, but I think we both know every time I’ve tried to fly solo even in the face of danger you never leave my side. And- might I add-” “Tonyyy…” Whining all the more. Because very suddenly you realized he might be right. You might have been as big of a hypocrite as he was. 

“-you always make a huge fuss about it. So. I think turnabout is fair play-” Your wordless noise of deeper irritation cut him off this time, especially when it led you into a coughing fit. Maybe it wasn’t a good time to be fooling around after nearly being choked to death. Who would have guessed. 

He eased away from you to let you get through it, hand sliding in careful strokes up and down the length of your back. It pretty much drained whatever energy you had left, which was a shame. You probably could have squared up to him for at least another hour before that. “Tony…” Looking up at him again. 

He frowned. “Alright, I’ll cut it out. But I’m also not leaving. And that’s final.” Apparently taking his stand right here. 

“If everyone leaves but you, that only makes you an even bigger target. Be smart about this. Please.” You weren’t sure how much in you you had left for begging. But if you had to resort to it to get him to listen… so be it. 

His eyes narrowed just a little, head turning away. Then, the thinking began. “The team has to leave. And he has to know they’re leaving.” 

“You are part of that team.” Just reminding him. In case he conveniently forgot. 

It took him a few moments, but finally his gaze returned to yours, lips quirking just a little. “Alright. I can work with this.” 

                                                   --- 

Repair people came to replace the window just around the time you were making calls to people who would make other calls to other people. A long list of whispers and murmurs. Somebody told somebody told somebody type deal… well, all these somebodies were currently talking to each other about how information got leaked that the Avengers were about to leave the Tower to go off on a mission. This was dangerous in other ways, but… the press needed to feel like they’d figured out something on their own. And needed to be given ample time to set up in opposite buildings so they could get all the best snapshots.

While you were doing that, Tony and Bruce were very helpfully prepping the team about their latest radar pings. And you were really glad you didn’t have to be there for that meeting. You didn’t need to go through another round of trying to persuade people to pick the right path. Tony’s insistence had already worn you down enough. They’d have to do the rest of the work in persuading them that the retrieval of the scepter and Chitauri parts was far more important. 

Alongside that, apparently both scientists were making a pit stop on the way back regardless of whether or not the mission was successful. Tony mentioned something about a Doctor Cho… but honestly, your head was too far in the storm clouds to give it second thought. If he thought the team needed her, you trusted his opinion. 

Finally, when everyone was on board and suited up- a little past two PM, you met with them on the flight deck. Purposefully, of course. Wanting to be caught as the only person not leaving with them. It was also very lucky they had a tight window to check out these places, a nice, dense and compact schedule that meant there would be no time for idle chatter on the deck as they all boarded the Quinjet. Though Steve seemed like he might have wanted to say something- anything- staring at you for a long couple of seconds before maybe deciding against it and then leaving. 

Whatever it was, you didn’t really have the time or energy for it right now. You suspected some part of him was disappointed. But your intuition was drowned out by the actual feeling of guilt that had just sort of started to follow him like a shadow. Nothing you could do now. 

Once everyone was loaded the ramp pulled up as the sounds of engines powering hit the air. Though it was those heavy footsteps of the Iron Man suit that you were a little more interested in, as it came up behind you. This high up and isolated it wouldn’t matter what you said. Which was why you cast a sideways glance up, still not… totally on board. “I don’t know about this.” 

“Too late now. Besides, it’s a best-of-both-worlds kind of situation.” He put a careful hand on your shoulder with only the gentlest squeeze. “Relax, would you? Trust me.” 

Saying it like it was that easy. If this was as see-through as you thought it might be, there was going to be trouble. But Tony was Tony. And he often got his way. It was also hard to argue against your own obvious hypocrisy. And even harder to argue against his love for you. 

You said nothing to that, instead shaking your head and stepping back so that he could ignite his thrusters and take off. Standing there you waited until they were mostly out of sight to gather yourself up and head back inside. Back up in the penthouse, TV on in the living room, breaking news reports were already going on and on about the mysterious take-off of the Avengers- and the even more mysterious reason you were staying behind.

Stark Industries business? Or perhaps that fancy new title you held for the United States…? Who could say. 

Heading into the bedroom, you paused by Tony sitting at his desk, awash in a slight blue glow from the holo-display headpiece he was wearing. You set your hands on his shoulders, leaning down to press a kiss on the top of his head. “You better be right about this.” 

“I’m always right about everything.” Satisfied at the very least that he was still here. Still able to protect you. ...and, probably also that he’d kind of won an argument. 

Remote piloting the suit wasn’t really a capability that was known outside the team. At least you hoped that was the case. Because this had to seem every bit real. Tony thought he was right, and he’d also asked you to trust him on that. So. ...what choice did you have? 

                                                  ---

Deciding to actually make good use of the news running about you, you took a shower, got dressed and presentable (including the painstaking process of covering up your bruises and cuts) and went down to your office to pretend to work. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to get work done. It was just a little impossible with everything going on. Everything that was on your mind. 

And especially when a notification ping about Trish going live on her show stole every last bit of your attention away. It was probably better to leave well enough alone at this point. But. You weren’t very good at that. So you loaded the show up on your computer. And sat back as Trish indeed apologized. Just as Jessica angrily said she would, as her only means of escape. 

“Hi, I'm Trish walker, and this is Trish Talk. During my last broadcast, I made some... flippant and disrespectful comments about a certain individual. I was out of line by belittling this man, and ignorant of my own limitations in challenging him. He is a very fascinating and powerful man, deserving of respect, and to that end, if he's listening, and I think he is... I want to apologize. I hope he forgives me.” 

It was so… on the nose. Terrible. She probably felt awful for being forced to do something like that. But- he’d apparently tried to kill her as well, last night, through other means. You’d forgot in your own trauma to ask anyone about it. ...was that selfish? It certainly didn’t feel good realizing it. But something this obvious- would that really appease him? 

...then again… you’d been on one of the flight decks earlier sending your team away for just as obvious measures… 

You were all helpless mice in his maze. A thought that followed you around for the next few hours. 

What more could be done here? How were you going to fix this? Even if you did get your hands on him… what then? Jessica had already said the obvious. No cell could hold him. Not with what he could do. So… where did that leave you? 

Somewhere uncomfortable. That was for sure. But if it came down to that… Kilgrave or the world… that reminded you of one of the very first times you’d made a choice like that. Even if it hadn’t been much of a choice at all. 

A little after dark, Pepper entered your office unexpectedly. She was carrying papers in her arm, so you expected she needed you to sign something. But- all the telltale signs were there. Something was off. Her eyes were empty as she approached, no expression on her face. And very suddenly you felt trapped. 

It was Pepper- surely he hadn’t… he didn’t think you couldn’t handle Pepper Potts… right? 

She set the stack of papers on your desk and then pointedly held your gaze. The words coming out of her mouth were not hers. And though she was speaking them, they really did just sound like him. “It was a very smart thing you did. Sending the fools out. Now it’s just you and I. I like that. I’ll be in touch, puppy.” 

Maybe. Just maybe… maybe that had been his plan all along. Take away your team as your line of defense. As the only people that would protect you. Look out for you. Come for you, if something terrible happened. And you’d potentially fallen right into his hands. 

If not for one smarmy genius sitting upstairs. 

As Pepper seemed to regain consciousness she looked a little startled. Alarmed. And very frightened. “What did I just-” 

Reaching up to take hold of her wrist lightly, you sent a soothing wave of comfort her way. “Pepper I think you should take the rest of the month off.” 

This was one argument you would win. 

[angst-fairygodmother]

Might I request: “There is enough room for both of us” & "You're warm" (& I'ma be a predictable binch & ask for Valdo x reader) :3

A/N: Did someone say sick fic? Oh wait that was me. I hope you enjoy this lovely. :)Word Count: 1660Content Warning: Mild swearing.

Silence stretched over the two travelers as they walked down the road, their dappled pack pony plodding placidly between them.

“Remind me again why we bought this beast instead of mounts for the both of us?” Valdo asked, his sharp tenor the first sound either of them had made in hours.

“Because the only thing we could afford two of was donkeys. And you said your dignity would not suffer an ass,” you snapped, rolling your eyes before muttering under your breath. “So instead I have to.”

You weren’t sure what had brought on the mood you were in, whether it was how tired and sore you were from walking or the gloom of the damp, chilly day, or something else entirely, but you honestly worried that if you did not reach the next town soon, you might throttle your companion, no matter how much you loved him.

“Ah yes, I recall now. I still say that horse trader was trying to swindle us. No matter, the market in Vizima will be much better.”

“Only if we ever get there.”

The next thing you knew, you were stopped short as you crashed into Valdo. You shot him a glare, wondering how he had managed to circle the horse to stop short and invade your personal space without you noticing.

“Alright, Y/N,” he said, frowning. “What on the Gods’ green Earth is your problem?”

You sighed. “I am tired. We’ve been traveling for days without sight or sign of anyone else on this stupid road. Everything hurts. My eyes feel like I’ve been rubbing sand in them for fun. There’s a storm on the horizon. And I’m fucking freezing. So can we please keep walking? I’d like to make it to the city before I die.”

Whatever Valdo might have said in response was cut off as you sneezed, sniffling pathetically after. Immediately his cross expression dropped as he reached out to place the inside of his wrist against your forehead.

“Wha…what are you doing?” you asked looking up at the curly-haired idiot like he had grown a second head.

“You’re warm.” He stated as if that was any answer. “Y/N, my darling, why didn’t you say you were unwell?”

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling your face flush. “It didn’t seem to matter that much. There’s nothing to be done but get to town anyway. So can we…?” you made a ‘keep moving’ gesture.

He frowned and then turned to the docile pony munching on grass that peeked up through the stones of the road, shuffling bags around, taking some off and setting them aside.

“What are you doing Valdo?” you asked exasperatedly.

“It won’t be the most comfortable ride, but I won’t have you exhausting yourself and making it worse,” he explained, shouldering several packs.

“It’s a cold, I’m not an invalid!”

“Sundrop, please. Your equine escort awaits. If you won’t care for your own health then do it for me.” He pressed his graceful hands together in a prayer-like pose and gave you that irritatingly irresistible pout. You sighed in defeat.

“You know there’s room enough for both of us.” You said as you climbed up into the saddle, shifting around to awkwardly settle between the various packages on the pony’s back.

“We both know that’s horseshit. Especially with all our stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, or rather at the swear passing his lips. Usually he was lovingly exasperated at your coarse language and not one to use it himself. He caught your glance and shrugged as if to say ‘odd circumstances allow odd behavior.’

“Pony shit actually,” you said with a smirk and another sniffle. “But I guess you’re probably right.”

He chuckled and shook his head ruefully, taking the pony’s reins in hand and leading off down the road at a slightly brisker pace than you had been going.

~

By the time the gates of Vizima came into view, an early night had fallen and the howling wind had both of you pulling fur-lined cloaks close. Your pony’s head was bowed miserably as icy torrents of rain poured from the sky. You shivered violently despite the layers, the chill weather heightening the effects of your fever.

Still, Valdo insisted on pressing inward toward the center of the city in search of “a decent inn.” You had half a mind to start begging to stop literally anywhere just to get inside when he finally found one that satisfied him, The Bee and the Bottle. As soon as you passed into the yard an eager straw-haired boy of maybe seven ran out, offering to take care of your pony, words whistling through the gap of missing front teeth.

You felt hands wrap around your waist, gently lifting you down and then steadying you when your feet touched ground and you swayed. Wobbling with exhaustion and cold, you turned to the child.

“You take good care of Spot here, alright?” you asked ruffling his hair and causing him to giggle. “If you do, I’ll see about sneaking you some sweets before we leave.”

He nodded eagerly at your offer. “I promise, I’ll be extra good to ‘im and make sure all his tack is shiny and clean. You’ll see.”

“And see if you can’t find someone to bring our bags to our room?” Valdo tried to keep the order out of his voice and found himself smiling as the boy saluted him before leading the creature away.

“Spot? Really dove?” Valdo whispered in your ear as he led you into the inn by the elbow.

You shrugged peevishly. “If you had named him when we bought him you could have called him whatever you wanted. I could have done worse.”

~

You sank gratefully into the luxurious bath, letting the road-weariness melt from you and the lightly minty steam work into your sinuses and throat to soothe their sting. Valdo’s fingers worked their way through your hair, massaging your scalp but you frowned, noticing their clumsy motions, no sign of his normal nimbleness. Reluctantly you pried your eyes open and twisted to look at him.

Immediately your eyes fell to his blue-tinged lips and you sighed. Your fingers curled around his wrist and you both gasped at the temperature difference between your skins.

“You’re useless to me if you freeze to death love,” you teased. “Why don’t you get in the water and thaw out?”

“Y/N,” he groaned. “I am supposed to be taking care of you. I can’t just take your bath.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that. There’s room enough for the both of us. Please?” You cast your most pleading expression up at him, knowing that he was weaker to your charms than he cared to admit.

Without a word, he began unbuttoning his damp shirt (having discarded his doublet earlier in expectation of helping you wash). You smiled softly at him before settling back in against the wall of the tub. Moments later, the water sloshed as Valdo slid in beside you, long arms wrapping around your middle to draw you against him. He pressed his lips to your temple, beard tickling where it brushed your face.

“Oh sweetheart, you are definitely feverish. As soon as you’re washed,” he lathered soap into a cloth and began to sweep it over your shoulders and back as he spoke, “we’re getting you straight to bed. I’ll have the innkeeper bring you some soup, and tea. Something herby and probably horrible tasting that will chase this sickness away.”

Valdo Marx was many things, but you knew he was not necessarily the most nurturing of men and the prospect of caring for you while you were ill was daunting. The fact that he was doing it at all was truly special, so you hummed in appreciation for his ministrations, leaning in to his touch and doing your best to comply with his wordless requests for movement until he was satisfied that you had been fully bathed.

As the water cooled to a tepid temperature, he reluctantly exited the tub, gathering up a particularly plush towel to wrap around you, sweeping you into his arms and carrying you to the bed. He gently dried you off and helped you into your favorite nightshirt (which he noted wryly was actually his missing shirt which you had claimed months ago not to have seen).

“I feel the need to remind you,” you said, stifling a yawn, “I am not an invalid.”

“Hush, love. And lay down. Rest.”

A series of violent sneezes shook your body and he found himself torn between fretting over you and admiring the truly adorable noises you made.

You groaned as you recovered your breath from the fit and relented to the idea of curling up in the many layers of blankets that invited you. As you snuggled down, you clung to Valdo’s hand, not letting him get up from his seat at the edge of the bed.

“Stay,” you murmured. “I need you to cuddle me.”

He smiled, soft and longing. “And why is that angel?”

Even as he asked, he shifted the covers to allow him to slip in beside you, curled around you like a cat.

“Because I’m still so cold. And you’re warm.” You burrowed closer, pressing your bodies together to sap as much of his body heat as possible, and he was content to let you.

His embrace tightened around your shoulders and he tucked your head up under his chin.

“Your wish is my command. Try to get some sleep.”

He pressed his lips to the top of your head and you closed your eyes, safe and content. He listened to your breathing for a while, intent for any rasp or stutter in the air, only relaxing when he heard it begin to settle into the slow, steady pattern of sleep.

Just as he was drifting off himself he thought he heard you mumble “I love you” and his lips curled upward blissfully.

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (98/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

Previous chapters conveniently available here.

To: doctor_shunga@wrantool.vii

From: zatte@emerald.eye (encryption engaged) (proxy transmission #6 engaged)

Dear Dr. Shunga,

[Note: Add some sort of greeting here.   It’s weird to just open the message cold.   Maybe he wouldn’t mind, but I would. -Zatte]

I get angry at my wife sometimes.  That's only natural.  Sometimes I worry that I take that for granted, and get angry with her when I shouldn't.  

I mean, she can be a real slob.  She keeps the kitchen and dining areas clean enough, but she treats the rest of the ship like one giant clothes hamper.  The service robot handles most of that, but it's still disgraceful.

And she's really moody.  Sometimes it's like she just doesn't want to open up, even when we're all alone.  She growls a lot.  She always says it's because of things she smells in the air, things that I can't smell.  I think it's just an excuse to be grouchy.

And... she kind of cheated on me.  I blame myself, really; I should have paid more attention to the situation.  She needed me and I wasn't available to her because I was so focused in that damn murder investigation.  It's not like she had sex with him, so there's mitigating circumstances, right?  Stuff I tell myself to help me forgive her.  But she still did it, and I can't pretend it doesn't bother me.  

I try not to deny those feelings.  They keep me grounded, because I always get starstruck when I'm around her.  I have to remind myself that she's not a goddess or an angel or anything like that.  But I do believe she's a miracle, and that's hard to fit into a marriage.  So it helps to remember that my beloved miracle leaves her dirty socks in the engine room for no good reason.  It's important to consider that the woman I'd die for has betrayed me.

I don't have a lot of friends, not since the colony fell.  I'm too wrapped up in Luffa's world to bother socializing.  I feel like a one-woman cult sometimes.  But it's not wrong.   My people believe that there are focal points in the universe where history is changed for the better.  We have a word for them: xan-nil'Dor, and a sacred duty to find and cultivate them in whatever form they appear.   The Dorlun race has been doing this for millennia.  It only seems creepy because I'm the only Dorlun around lately. It only seems cultish because my xan-nil'Dor is five-foot-three and adorable.

I've suffered for her.  The colony fell and we fought to the bitter end, each of us thinking the other was dead.  I was captured by demons who forced me to stalk her and corrupt her.  I fought against her enemies and wore my wounds like badges of honor.  We used to share in a mental communion that was so beautiful, but she had to put a stop to it because the intimacy of it was too intense.  I feel like a moth circling a flame sometimes.  If I stay with her, I'll be destroyed.

I'll take that chance.  Risk.  Among my people, "risk" is a dirty word.  Luffa whispers it into my ear sometimes because she knows it drives me wild.  I'm not like the other Dorluns.  I don't want to die--don't get me wrong--but I'm more aggressive about it.  Hiding isn't my style.  I'd rather face a threat head-on, or at least prepare to face it head-on.  I think that's what Luffa likes about me.  It's not quite the same as Saiyan battle-lust, but it's close enough, I guess.

She's been training me ever since we got together.  I mean, she was training me before that.  Back on the colony she did combat exercises with the Dorlun militia, but now the militia is down to just me, and the lessons are more intense.  Early on, Luffa singled me out as the strongest Dorlun in the colony, and she took an interest in seeing how much stronger I could get.  Once we were married, she took that project even more personally.  I'm nothing compared to a Saiyan, but she's always told me that isn't the point.  It's a matter of pride.  She wants me to be the best I can be, for my sake and for hers.  It's tough to live up to that, but it's inspiring too.  Like I'm a piece of raw iron she's forging into a great sword.

Maybe I romanticize this stuff too much.  I think of Luffa like this mythical heroine who does all these wonderful things, so whenever she blows off laundry I make end up making excuses for her.  We don't always get along, but when we do it's like nothing I've ever felt before.  She's like a living inferno, and I want to dive in and burn for her.    The weird thing is, Luffa thinks I can be cold towards her.  I shouldn't be surprised, given how passionate Saiyans are, but I'm pretty sure most Dorluns would be embarrassed to see how I carry on around her.  Or maybe they wouldn't, and I'm just being self-conscious.

I'm getting away from the reason I wanted to write you this message in the first place.  It's the same reason I had to transmit it in such a convoluted way.  Well, I haven't done that yet, but I'm planning to bounce it off several dozen interstellar relay stations in order to make it harder to trace.  Luffa and I can't go back to your planet anymore.  We're not sure what will happen if the Saiyans find out we've been there.   They might attack Wrantool VII, and maybe even destroy it.  That's why we missed our last appointment for couples counseling, and why we won't be able to reschedule.  I hope you understand.

I just feel like we're running away from the issues that led us to see you in the first place.  So I thought maybe if I explained some things in a letter, it would help convince me that our marriage is going to be okay.  I think that's why we came to you.  We both wanted a third party to tell us we were doing it right.  Well, that's not a luxury we can afford these days, so I'll have to make due with what we have.  I'll tell you a story, and I'll have to hope you're as convinced as I am.

[Note: I should probably explain everything that happened since our last session, but later.  -Zatte]

So, after everything that happened with King Rehval, we had a lot of downtime on our hands.  Our ship was badly damaged, especially the computer.   It took us weeks just to get to a planet that could do the repairs, and they had to order a lot of custom parts, so we ended up taking a vacation neither of us really wanted.    They had some nice lodges out in the mountains, but we just weren't in the mood to enjoy it.    Luffa was anxious to get back to Planet Saiya and confront King Rehval, and I... wasn't sure what we should do.    I had hoped we would figure it out while we waited for the ship to be repaired, but all I could think about was what we had been through.  

It was a nice place to try to sort things out, though.   I probably shouldn't say the name of the planet, in case this message gets intercepted somehow.   The less you know, the better.  Now that I think about it, I should probably change the names of the people and places in this story.  Only I can't think of any good fake names, so I'll go back and do that later.

[Note: Don't forget to do this!! -Zatte]

So,we were on Planet Thrush, about 6000 light years from Pflaume.  I had managed to convince Luffa that we needed to keep a low profile until we got the ship repaired.  Luckily, we still had enough money to cover a place to stay and new clothes to keep Luffa from standing out too much.   She spent most of her time monitoring interstellar news reports.    She was determined to keep up with King Rehval's movements as closely as she could, to find out what he would do next.   We weren't sure if he thought Luffa was alive or dead, or how he might respond if he found out she survived.   As it turned out, he didn't really do much of anything.  Luffa compared it to trench warfare, where neither side was willing to risk taking the initiative.    Maybe he was waiting to see what we would do, or he wanted the rest of the galaxy to find out for themselves that Luffa was gone.

The standoff frustrated Luffa, but it also convinced her that laying low was the right move, and that seemed to get her to relax a little.    She focused more on trying to apologize for her makeout sessions with Rehval.   She cooked my favorite foods, massaged my feet, kept the hotel clean (relatively speaking), and she even took me dancing.     She was... well, it was like you said in one of our sessions a few months back.   She was trying too hard, hoping to repair past failures by overcompensating in the present.   It was all a little much, but I liked this better than her brooding over how to take revenge on Rehval.   And things were hard for Luffa too, with her learning her son was alive.    I thought it was best to let her deal with that in her own way, and I think it helped her to know that I'm still part of her family, even if her son has rejected her.  

So one day we decided to go hide out in the mountains and just live off the land for a while.   It's helped us connect in the past, and we never get to do it enough because we spend so much time in space, surrounded by technology.   I was glad to have Luffa away from the news dispatches for a while, and I think she was just happy that I was going along with her suggestions for spending time together.    The thing is, I'd love to say all this downtime is good for our marriage, and it's brought us closer together.    I'd also like to say that the experience with Rehval was good for our marriage, and it's brought us closer together.    But I also have to question if I'm just looking for excuses to say everything is all right, so I can ignore the problem.   Maybe that self-doubt is what's holding me back.   Maybe Luffa has the same trouble.  

Anyway, we had been out there for three days.   Luffa had finished loading our barbecue pit, and was taking a nap in our shelter.   This was just a sort of tent we made out of logs and brush.  We didn't plan to stay long, so we kept it simple.    I was scouting the terrain.   We didn't really need to do that, since we had an aerial view of the place when Luffa flew us in, but my energy manipulation powers let me detect things that normal senses might miss.   I was on my way back when I heard a noise from our camp.   By the time I got to the shelter, Luffa had stepped out, carrying a little boy by the scruff of his tunic.  

It took a while for us to figure out what had happened.   He wouldn't talk at first, but after a couple of hours, he got hungry, and the smell from Luffa's pit probably helped loosen his tongue.   His name was Bred, and he was on this quest to save a kingdom from an evil wizard named Lyder.    We never really got to the bottom of it, but we're pretty sure he wasn't from Thrush.   He used some sort of magic mirror to transport himself from his world to ours, and he had to do that several times in order to collect items and weapons he needed for his mission.   This time, the item he needed was my wife's scalp.

I think the strangest part of life with Luffa is that she's more than just a extra-special Saiyan.   It's tempting for me to think that the "Legendary" in "Legendary Super Saiyan" is a redundancy.   Any Saiyan that powerful would have to be noteworthy for centuries to come.   But it's more than that.    There are people out there who remember the past Super Saiyans, like the Plantians, or the people of Bigreen, or the faerie folk of the F-Tunnel.  For them, Luffa is like the fulfillment of an ancient prophecy.   I think that's the only magic Luffa really appreciates.   She doesn't put much stock in the Dorlun concept of xan-nil'Dor, but she's proud to be part of a lineage of larger-than-life Saiyan heroes, and I think she looks to them for strength.   Maybe its more of a rivalry.   The point is, it's easy for me to think of her as normal, since she's the Saiyan I know best.    Then you have people like Bred, who think of her as a cryptid, like the Hellmoth, or comet-walkers.  

I was about to use Basilisk X as an example, but I forgot that he doesn't count because he's real.   Luffa and I had dinner with him last year.  He's not nearly as deadly as the stories say.   He doesn't kill with a glance, but it can stun you if you're not careful, but he usually reverses it once he's had a chance to calm down. 

[Note: Maybe I shouldn’t bore the guy talking about Basilisk X. -Zatte]

Bred was supposed to undergo a trial of courage to progress through a certain dungeon.   It's kind of complicated, but his quest involved gathering a lot of relics from dungeons, which he'd then use to unlock other dungeons, and so on and so on.  The trial of courage was a portal leading him to a mythical beast, and he would have to slay it and bring back its pelt as a trophy.   The portal led to our campsite on Thrush, and he recognized Luffa as a Super Saiyan from old stories his grandmother told him.  I guess Chanisp or one of Luffa's other ancestors must have paid a visit to Bred's world.

I think that, more than anything else, caught Luffa's interest.   Bred had tracked her all the way to our campsite, found her sleeping in our shellter (he called it a 'lair'), and managed to draw his sword before Luffa woke up and caught him.  I was amazed that she didn't kill him on instinct, but it's easy to forget that her reflexes are as enhanced as her strength and speed.    Once she realized Bred wasn't a threat, she let him live, but Bred continued to struggle, and she was blown away by his bravery.

"This guy doesn't back down from anything," she said.   "He reminds me of you."

Looking back, I think I let the compliment go to my head.   Otherwise I might not have agreed to her plan, which was to go back with Bred and present her scalp as proof that he passed the trial.   Luffa figured that if the rest of the mythical beast was still attached to it, then so much the better.    I wasn't sure about going off on another adventure, but like I said, she talked me into it.   We had nothing but time on our hands, and she didn't think Bred's enemies would be much of a threat to us.    So I agreed, and Bred's magic mirror could take us all back with him, and off we went.  

The gatekeeper who presided over the trial of courage didn't exactly see things Luffa's way, but he wasn't in much of a position to argue.   Luffa took offense to a lot of things in Bred's world.    There were a lot of locked doors and secret passages, and a lot of rules and preconditions you had to meet to be allowed to pass.   She didn't like that at all, since Bred was a nice kid, and she didn't think it was fair to make a nice kid jump through a bunch of hoops just to fight an honorable battle for the good of everyone.    

"If he was a grown man, that'd be different!" Luffa explained to me after she cut down a battalion of Lyder's monsters.    "This boy's just getting started as a warrior, and they expect him to solve a bunch of puzzles, and run errands?"  

I asked her if it was right to interfere like this, but she didn't see a problem with it.   In our own universe, that's how Luffa does things, after all.    She finds people who need help and crushes their oppressors.    Originally, it was for money, then for sport, and eventually she realized it was more than just was way to pass the time.    She really cares about the little guy, I guess because she's been the little guy before.   Maybe that's what she saw in Bred, now that I think about it.    It wasn't too long ago that Luffa and I were a couple of kids, not much older than Bred, facing down a horde of monsters by ourselves.   It would have been handy to have an invincible warrior to join us that day, but Luffa wasn't a Super Saiyan yet.   I guess that was what bothered me about helping Bred.   I couldn't put my finger on it at the time, but it didn't seem quite right to step in and handle things for him.    If someone had done the same thing for us, then Luffa never would have lost that battle, and never would have become a Super Saiyan.   What if we were denying Bred a chance to become something important himself?   What if Luffa was saving him from an ordeal that he needed to experience?

On the other hand, I doubt I could have convinced Luffa, even if I had thought of any of that stuff at the time.    She and Bred formed a sort of bond.    Her son was taken from her while was still pregnant, and raised to be her enemy.    Bred never knew his mother, so they each sort of had what the other was missing.   We spent several days in that realm.    It was pretty.  The sand was bright yellow and the trees were greener than I've ever seen anywhere else, and all the rocks were purple.   Luffa would smash down doors that refused to open, or sometimes she would help Bred find items he needed, even though she had the power to make them unnecessary.   She taught him how to shoot a bow and arrow.    I didn't know Luffa had ever handled one.    She prefers unarmed combat, but she said she played with a lot of weapons as a child.   She even showed Bred how to shoot using her feet.    I can't even explain that right.    Like, you're on horseback, and you grab the saddle with your hands, and curl your back until you've got your butt over your head, and then you use your legs to work the bow... I watched Luffa do it and I still don't understand it.  

Eventually, Luffa defeated all of Lyder's invasion forces, so we started taking the fight to the enemy.   I helped with a lot of that.   My powers made it pretty easy to recon the dungeons and loot them of anything useful.    If I ran into any serious obstacles, Luffa could handle them.   Once they were clear, Luffa would turn the entire stronghold into a crater.    I couldn't help but think this was something akin to how Luffa would have raised her own son, if she'd had the chance.    Bred was no Saiyan, and I think it made him a little nervous to take lessons from one,  but the affection Luffa showed him was real, and I think that made up for some of her gruffness.  

We were feeling pretty confident when we stormed Lyder's fortress.    Luffa tore through the wizard's defenders like they were made of wet paper, and Bred barely had to lift a finger.   There was a large gate that required several totems to open it, but Luffa simply shattered it with her ki.   There were a lot of "key = ki" jokes made during this campaign, what with all the locked doors we came across.    

We thought Lyder would fall as easily as her forces, but it things went poorly as soon as we met her in person.    She had a failsafe, a weapon to defeat anyone who approached her, no matter how strong they were.    It was like a virus, and we had all inhaled it the moment we entered her inner sanctum.   Apparently, we goofed when we smashed our way in.   If we had used the right items, we could have deactivated the virus and entered safely.  

Somehow, my own body managed to hold out against it.   I felt nauseous and weak, but I could still stand and avoid Lyder's attacks.    Bred wasn't affected at all, and Lyder suspected she knew why that was.    When she had created her defenses, she had designed them to make herself immune to them, and that immunity was passed on to her offspring as well.   That was when she revealed that Bred was her son, and she had abandoned him at birth when she discovered that he wouldn't be suitable for some mystic sacrifice she was planning.  

That was when Luffa lost it.   She transformed into her Super Saiyan form to attack Lyder head on, but that just amplified the virus's toll on her body.    Before, she had been struggling to stand, but when she transformed, she managed to get about three steps towards Lyder before she collapsed.    

I rushed to her side, ignoring my own symptoms, and started checking her vitals.   Her pulse was bad, and her eyes were glazed over, but she was still breathing.  There were all these purple lesions on her skin, and I had no idea what they meant, but I knew it wasn't good.   I knew we had to leave.   We had to find some way out of this place, and get her to a doctor while there was still time.   I guess she knew what I was thinking.   On second thought, I was probably babbling a lot while I tried to pick her up.   She probably heard me panicking and knew I wanted to get her out of there.  

Then she took my arm and said: "Forget about me!   Go and help the boy!"

I tried to argue with her.   Tried to tell her that I was barely in any shape to fight, and even if I had been, I couldn't just leave my wife to die.  Not just my wife, but the xan-nil'Dor, the hope of the universe.    

She coughed and made a face.   I can't really describe it well.    It was sort of like she was too weak to scream but she needed to release her frustration anyway.  

"Damn it all!   We came here to help that brat!   He's just a kid.    We can't just abandon him now!"

I tried to tell her to calm down.    That Bred didn't need our help.   That she was destined to do great things and none of that would happen if I let her die there.

"If... if you believe any of that crap," Luffa said,  "then you know I have to see this through.   If I can't survive this, then it doesn't matter what I might have done later."

She took my hand in hers, and her expression softened.    I thought she was going to cry.    

"I really screwed up," she said.    "Took it all too lightly.   This 'quest'... our marriage... everything.    But I love you."

I didn't know what to say.   It was like she was saying goodbye to me without actually leaving.

"Guess if I die here, it proves I'm not a xan-nil'Dor, but whatever you think I stand for... whether I really do or not... you've got to fight for it, Zattie.   Even if I fall, you still believe in my cause, don't you?"

That's what I love and hate about her the most.   Luffa sees things beyond mere survival.   All I've wanted was to fight for her, alongside her, and there she was, telling me to carry on without her.   It makes me upset just thinking about it, but I knew she was right.  I had to let her go.  

And so I left her behind a nearby pillar, and I helped Bred as best I could.    He didn't need much.    Lyder was strong, but predictable.    She needed time to prepare her worst attacks, and she couldn't defend himself while she was deploying them.    Bred's sword seemed to hurt her more than anything else, and there wasn't much point in me joining his attack.   Instead, I used my powers to disrupt the illusions in the dungeon.   When Lyder tried to turn invisible, I warped the light around him to reveal her position.    When she summoned creatures to swarm us, I fought the real ones so Bred could ignore the phantoms.   When things got too hot, we took cover behind a bunch of pillars that seemed to be impervious to her attacks.   I don't know how long we kept this up.    I just remember thinking that Luffa wouldn't make it through the battle.   I remember wanting to run back to the pillar to check on her, but every time I thought of it, I would see Bred fighting and I couldn't bear to turn my back on him.  

Then, the enemy changed tactics on us.    Instead of firing ki in one giant burst, he started launching a wide field of it.   Now, we had to use the pillars for cover, and wait for the attack to subside before we could go back on the offensive.   I remember making a break for the pillar where I had left Luffa, just to check on her.    I remember Bred covering me, and asking in a terrified voice if 'the beast' was all right.  

I couldn't answer him, because she was gone.

Just as Lyder tried to close in on the boy while he was distracted, I saw a yellow light from the other side of the room, and there was Luffa, on her feet.    She looked awful.    The purple lesions were worse, and there was blood coming from her nose.    Somehow, she had managed to transform, if only for a moment, and she raised her hand to fire a ki blast at Lyder.    

She said something badass in that moment, I'm sure of it.   But her voice was weak and the noise of the battle was enough to drown it out.    Her eyes told the whole story, though.   Lyder would have to finish killing Luffa before she could harm a hair on Bred's head.  

I wouldn't say this frightened Lyder.   I think she understood her virus well enough to know that Luffa would die that much faster now.    But she still turned to focus on Luffa anyway, as if she wasn't quite as certain as she had been.   I've seen a lot of enemies underestimate Luffa, only to pay with their lives for the error, and Lyder seemed to guess that this was no one to be taken lightly, even if she seemed to be doomed.  

Maybe Luffa could have held out against Lyder, but my guess is that she never would have survived.    Luffa was ready to die in that moment.   She just... didn't care.    Not because she wanted to die, but because she wanted me and Bred to live that much more.   It was that fiery Saiyan will of hers, and she used it to trick Lyder into overestimating her instead.   In that moment, when Lyder turned to face Luffa, Bred saw his opening and attacked Lyder with everything he had.   It was amazing to see.   He didn't hesitate, he just went in and got the job done.    Lyder was destroyed.  Her body immolated into a cloud of smoke, and I think it took her virus with her.    All I know for sure is that I felt a lot better once she was gone.  

As for Luffa, she survived, but only just.   Bred had an elixir that healed her, but only to a certain extent.  I ended up getting her to a hospital on Thrush, but the short version is that she'll be okay.  At the time, though, it looked pretty dicey.    Even so, she was smiling the whole time, and she kept mouthing the words "I'm so proud of you both".

Maybe this story doesn't really prove anything like I thought it would.  I wanted to tell you our marriage was fixed, in spite of everything that had happened.  I wanted you to read this and say that you agreed with that, even if I wouldn't be able to hear it.

But it doesn't really work that way, and the more I think about it, I can't really send you this letter anyway.  It's too dangerous, and there's nothing tangible to be gained.  I think I knew that all along, but I had to get this far to accept it.

I guess I just wanted to say good-bye.  There's a good chance Luffa and I will never see you again, and that bothers me, because you helped us out so much.  I've had to part with a lot of important people in my life that way.  I don't like it, but that's just how it has to be.

Well, I think we're going to be okay.  I want to tell someone that, but even if I can't, I'll write it down where no one can see it, and I guess that will have to do.  After what happened, I believe our marriage will work.  We have work to do, and nothing's guaranteed, but my wife never stops trying, and I've pledged myself to support her in any way I can, so I guess I won't stop trying either.  It might not be the most elegant relationship, and it might get dented and scratched up along the way, but we'll make it.

I think that maybe you were waiting for us to figure that out all along.  You knew we could do it without you to tell us that.  Well, there's no way to know, so i guess it doesn't matter.

But I want to thank you anyway.  Thank you for putting up with our bickering and our ridiculous problems.  Thank you for listening to us when we wouldn't listen to each other.  We'll try to make sure your efforts weren't in vain.

--Zatte.

NEXT: Loose Ends

[downtheaxon]

hello friends and followers - two days ago, I found out I won (earned?) the biggest/most prestigious phd scholarship in canada (a vanier cgs)

other than two days of celebration (and exhaustion, as my masters/phd is always way more work than I anticipate), I have a lot of complicated feelings about this:

tw: frank discussion of psychiatry, including depression, suicidal ideation, and self harm

firstly, as you know, I’ve been struggling with my mental health for most of my adolescent and adult life. I recently (read: monday) brought back journals from my childhood home to my apartment in montreal and the earliest mention of suicidal ideation that I could find dates from around my 13th birthday i.e. over 10 years ago. and that breaks my heart.

9 days before I found out I won the vanier, I had my first psychiatry intake appointment. I spent an hour discussing essentially everything that has brought me to this point, and couldn’t shake what the doctor who referred me there a few weeks prior had said: why have you never seen a psychiatrist?

I’m more aware now (than ever) how long I suffered in absolute silence, with no care, and really truly believed my suffering was self-made, deserved, and normal for me. I didn’t get any form of psychiatrist help until after I left my abusive relationship in the winter of 2014 shortly after I turned 20 (and I am so so grateful for the relationship I built with my psychologist, who I still see). 

even with a history of suicidal ideation and attempt (singular), extensive history of self harm (all kinds), mental illness in the immediate family, unstable/traumatic upbringing, clear social isolation, obvious blatant unhappiness, no one thought to take mini-me to see a doctor. I exclude the time I briefly met with my brother’s psychiatrist shortly after I turned 18, who suggested I might be a borderline personality ten minutes into meeting me but didn’t follow up on this.

I always thought this was my fault and that my feelings towards myself were justified. when I was young, my self harm made sense - I deserved to be hurt (and others hurt me without consequence, so clearly I was the designated punching bag). my abusive relationship reaffirmed this, and a circuit in my brain intensified and fully, at my core, believes that I am worthless, awful, deserving of pain. and that’s really scary to me because now, at age 24, after years of therapy and self-compassion, I know on many levels that that isn’t true. but on other levels, I still believe it.

why am I talking about this? because after the elation of winning the vanier, I was hit with incomparable sadness. I don’t deserve the vanier - not only that, but it would be better if I reject it so that it goes to the next person on the waitlist, someone more deserving as me. my brain even ventured into see, if you’d killed yourself earlier in the year, then the next person on the list would have it and it wouldn’t go to waste on you. along with this thought came a profound urge to self harm and destroy myself. 

academia induces enough imposter syndrome as is. couple that with a mental illness, and the toxicity becomes overwhelming and unbreathable. 

don’t get me wrong, I’m happy. I’m very very happy. this honour opens many doors for me, be it the financial freedom to afford healthcare for my cat if she needs it, take my partner on a trip to europe, move into a bigger apartment, and and get a monthly massage (or a nintendo switch - or both), as well as the exclusive trainings and professional travel opportunities that are included with the award.

but I don’t feel like I deserve it - while also feeling like I do. knowing I ranked in the bottom 5, knowing I got it by the skin of my teeth (is that the expression?), also knocks me down a peg (and trust me, I don’t need to be knocked down a peg.

I don’t know what my point is with all this. my point is a few things: my partner is moving in in two weeks, after two years of a long distance relationship. that’s extremely exciting and makes me feel like the luckiest person in the world. I’ll be financially secure in my phd (thanks to the vanier), which also makes me feel lucky. after a trip next month, I’ll start SSRIs which will hopefully take the edge off my pain and that also makes me feel lucky. a lot is happening all at once.

I guess my point is this: my illness feels more central to my life than my phd does. and my phd is very important to me, but it always comes second, and always exsits within the context of my illness. I prioritize therapy and doctor’s appointments and good eating habits and regular sleep and time for myself over experiments, because I can’t exist otherwise. 

my other thought and point: I’ve suffered a lot in my life, and perhaps it’s pretentious to say that I’ve suffered more than others my age in my program but it feels that way most days. I’m exhausted from all this suffering. the vanier feels like a life raft in this sea of difficulty and trouble. 

another thought: I’ve always used school to cope. when things got worse at home, my grades got better. after I figured out how to take tests, it always felt like something I could control. friendships were hard, dealing with home was hard, loving myself was hard, but school was always easy. and I know that that isn’t as common of an experience and am so grateful that that was mine. because being good at school is what saved me - it’s what allowed me to move out (to do a phd), to build a social circle, and to reach financial independence and stability.

a last thought: I never know how public to be about my struggles in my immediate academic circle. I wish I were braver. I’m realizing slowly that visibility does not have to be self-indulgent - I wish I knew someone in an academic position above mine who talked about succeeding in academia in spite of a long history of mental health struggles and trauma. I wish I did more, outreach wise. I’m good at this one-on-one, and I’m proud of how good of a mentor I can be to my students, both academically and personally. but, on a bigger scale....

no one wants to hear you cry about the grief inside your bones.

thank you for reading, should you have gotten this far. I’m submitting my phd proposal today, in order to pass my comps/proposal at the end of april. that’s terrifying and exciting all at once. I don’t know if I belong in academia, I don’t know if I deserve the success I have, but when I feel well, I want to take full advantage of what luck and opportunity have given me.

I keep telling my partner: we’ve had enough unhappiness. it’s time for the happy times of our life to start. (although I am terrified of something awful happening, because my experience suggests just that).

I’m grateful and I’m struggling. I’m successful and I’m traumatized. I’ve spent months trying to reconcile these two opposing states, and perhaps the vanier (which acknowledges my extracurriculars, my outreach, all reflective of my need to teach, mentor and decrease mental illness related stigma) is doing just that. or perhaps it creates a larger divide. it’s hard to say. 

feel free to send me a message should you want to chat about this. I’ll be working on my phd candidacy presentation all day (what an odd terrifying wonderful bizarre exciting and frightening life). 

[mandatorysmoothiecleanse]

morning snack, dysphagia struggles and downward spirals of anxiety

Note: The following is what I posted to my therapist. Mostly via voice to text dictation, so if some of the words are off , that’s why. I thought I would share this as it’s what is going on but also it might help others Background: So, I have dysphagia but recently transitioned to solid foods. However every once in awhile, the problems swallowing and not choking on food comes back. It came back this morning and this is what happened. Well it's time for me to eat my morning snack, but I would be lying if I said I did not have a bit of anxiety towards eating at this point in time. I also feel really really sad and angry because why? I don't need anything else that would make me more overwhelmed than what I already feel like sometimes. It's like God damn it just give me a f****** break please. I do know from past experiences what I have to do in order to help swallow my food again. My mother wrote it out for me actually I'm feeling a bit sploot. so I'm just going to try that and hope and trust that it stays the same and that it's the solution that I need to eat again. And hope for the best I guess. I tried to make a Facebook live stream video so while I was eating I could have some company because I'll be totally honest with you and I don't really feel like being by myself right now, and having to deal with this by myself but Facebook was being glitching and I was unable to make a video.

So I thought I would do a post here. I am typing instead of dictating as talking can exasperated things. I am doing my best, but I feel like I am stuck in a bad dream.

Okay so I swallowed my first bite after lots if chewing and it mostly went down. Trying hard to be conscious to down ward spiral into depression and anxiety.

Also got my heated gel pack. Heat and gentle massage help.

Going for the 2nd bite. Food is good. Food is friend. Focusing on my breath but I don't want this.

3rd bite. I am pretty sure I can get through this moment. I already am. It's just I don't want more things to get through. I have too much as it s.

Okay. 4th bite. Mostly beans and swallowing is a bit easier. I feel a bit swollen...

A bit of food had to be coughed up but overall swallowed.

I want to apply more gentle Heat to my neck, but my arms are a bit spastic / tired. Please don't tell me to stop typing. Typing is easier cus it's just pecking. Not lifting. Plus when I type a play by play, I don't feel like I'm doing this alone.

I was just getting to a point where I was going to explore spending more time sans hha. And now I am giving you a play by play cus I feel scared to be alone.

Feelings from the past when this first happened and feelings from now are there.

Deep breath.

Food is good. Body is good. Not the enemy. This is not a punishment. I've only transitioned from soups and smoothies to solid foods a bit over a week ago. I just don't want more to manage. Not to say this is my new Norm. It's just I am already struggling and trying so hard and then this. Why more? Why now?

Okay trying to be present with the last bite. It's pinto beans. Mushed . With a hint if garlic salt. Chewing. Tasting.  Okay done.

[image of grey cat]

Sigh.  All that I am okay now that I am done eating I can go back to dictating I mean as in voice-to-text dictation not like dictator dictating.. my throat feels a bit sore and swollen and I feel like I don't want this and that quote I want to die quote which is not to say I am suicidal but rather that my brain is so seats death with the release from suffering into it cleans that idea sometimes not actually wanting actual death.  I feel overwhelmed. I feel like I want to cry but I feel like I can't cry because I can't afford to just break down right now. I feel like I need to figure out how I'm going to get through this I need to figure out a plan. I mean I got through it I finished my morning snack. I am on schedule with my eating which I cannot afford to skip on. One of the reasons why my body is so shot is that during the dysphagia diet, I was unintentionally eating less than a thousand calories per day. And I am getting stronger. I am making progress. Even though this thing is happening, I am making progress. So I can't go back to not eating enough especially now because now it would be knowingly not eating enough. Although my insomnia has only improved to partial insomnia that's still progress and that's still getting some sleep so obviously I to keep eating enough food..  and you know this could come and go. It has in the past. Maybe as it goes on in the day eating will get easier. I don't know. I'd like to know. I'd like to feel more in control by knowing. but I don't know. I just know I really wish someone was here to hold me and go through this with me. But not a home health aide. Like a friend or a partner.

My mother told me not to worry and just lean back on the heating pad and do I need to do to eat and then I will be fine. And she is right in the sense that every time this happened and I leaned back on my heating pad I am able to eat. But won the fact that it's happening again as I said is psychologically unsettling and scary. And I'm having a hard time being like okay whatever I'll just lean back on my heating pad everything's okay everything's fine. I love to feel that way I would love nothing more been to feel that way but I don't.

I think I am also feeling emotions from the past like when it's first started and I was by myself and I had doctors who did not tell me what to do or how to give me instructions on how to manage this I was on my own. And I did my best but I was scared. and it's not okay that I was left on my own especially considering I have cognitive impairment and then I have to deal with this kind of myself. I mean I mean in terms of having a doctor to give me instructions on how to manage this there were none. And so I think some of the feelings from that time are rising up inside me and mixing with the feelings of what I'm going through now and then this setback or whether it's temporary or what where i I feel scared overwhelmed because I really just wanted to focus on getting my OT forms filled out and then here's something else in the morning and deal with that is pretty because it's eating and you have to eat. And I think the emotions from the past and then the the fears from I guess the present or what's happening now kind of joined forces and began to swallow me not whole but certainly I started downward spiral into sadness and anxiety. And I can recognize that in myself now and I totally understand why that would happen. However if I separate what is happening in the present and what was, then I feel less anxious because I do know how to take care of myself when this happens. Don't get me wrong the fact that this is even happening is totally other b******* and then touch myself but for anyone because it's scary, but if I can separate my feelings from the past of what happened before and now we're I do know what to do when this happens worse before I didn't know what to do and I had zero help by myself, but now I'm not in that place now I'm in a place where I do know what to do.

And I can acknowledge that there is an anxious thought in my head that says what what if it changes and your usual trick does not work?  But I don't really think that contemplating that is a constructive action at this point in time. I feel like that's my attempt to clamor for control the situation that I'm not in control over and I don't have any answers so I feel like this is going to make me even more anxious. And while I'm in no way grateful that this is happening to me this morning, I do feel grateful for a Moment of clarity where I was able to stop and breed and realized that what I was feeling wasn't next of past and present. That should read breathe not breed lol.  Okay and that's all I know right now. I am feeling less scared. I am feeling less scared to be on my own. I also recognize that that that the fact that I have been leaning back on my heating pad on my couch has reduced my bronchospasms and that's made it easier for me to swallow. And I have burped a number of times which makes me feel physically better as there's nothing stuck in my throat in terms of air pockets or whatever you call it. I may try to take care of business with v and S and my doctor's office or I make it sit here and possibly cry and that's fine too. But I do feel like I can say with confidence that I am doing a really really good job and that I am proud of myself for getting out of the downward spiral of anxiety which was a totally valid reaction to what happened. and that's all that I can say right now. Thanks for keeping me company in an indirect way