#doctor has gone okay but i still cant sleep and my sleep medicine hurts my chest which is a ''STOP TAKING IMMEDIATELY'' symptom :/

[risingsunresistance]

drew this earlier to distract myself from the filling i had to get

[angstymdzsthoughts]

Ignorance is a bliss

Imagine if “come to gusu with me” ends up with wwx passed out of exhaustion before he could reject the offer. Lwj did brought him to gusu and under the jurisdiction of the elders, after wwx is nursed back to health, his demonic cultivation must be sealed and he must received say maybe 15 lashes as punishment for straying off the righteous path before were sent to seclusion with lwj so that wwx will finally be ‘cleansed’. Wwx wasnt happy ofc but what he could do with his powers are sealed away? Now , 5 strokes of discipline whip may cause a cultivator bedridden for months, how about to a non cultivator ? It must affect them severely so that is why discipline whip can never be used to a non cultivator. Lwj was forced to a house arrest guarded by three disciples due to him trying to (forcefully) persuade the elders to not hurt wwx. Lwj never thought that the elders were so hell bent on punishing wwx , where he promised wwx that gusu will be his safe haven (oh lwj, ignorance is a bliss).

The elders of Lan assumed that wwx’s core is still intact but maybe diminished due to demotic cultivation. So they still proceeded with the punishment. But halfway through the session, wwx lose consciousness and healers were called to heal him so that they could finish the punishment.However, upon trying to heal him , the healers discovered that wwx does not have a golden core. Lxc was horrified and ultimately barked an order to bring wwx to the sect’s infirmary to put him to rest. Glaring at lqr and the elders , he told them if wwx did not survive the ordeal , they would have become a murderer.

Lwj was devastated on the state wwx in. Wwx had a bad fever due to infection despite how hard the healers were trying to use medication. Bandages were changed thrice a day to ensure the infection does not spread to other parts of body. Wwx never gained consciousness for 3 months. He was delirious in fever as his health rapidly declining over the days. Healers concluded that wwx may not he able to perform his daily routine without help as the whip has cause major backlash on his physical and mental health.

After a discussion, the lans decided to finally informed the jiang sects of the situation wwx was in. JC was on his way when wwx woke up. Wwx was in confusion and struggling to get out of his bed. Lxc and lwj had to restrain him to ensure he doesn’t hurt himself. The last thing wwx remembered that his back and legs were excruciating painful and people in white robes are the cause of it.Paranoia settles in him causing wwx to be on alert every second and never utter a single word after waking up, not even to lwj. For wwx, lwj has brought him to gusu because he hated wwx so much that he let those people hurt him. He was betrayed.

Although he was reluctant at first, he forced himself to eat to regained his strength and escape this hell. When the jc arrives at gusu with a group of disciples , lxc and the elders met them at the entrance leaving lwj and wwx alone at the room. Wwx for the first time spoke to lwj, requesting for a new change of robe. “I just dont want anyone to see me in this dirty robe” . Lwj acquiesced.

When lwj came back with new set of fresh robes and a basin of hot water , wwx was gone. Due to the envoy from Jiang sect , the entrance was not guarded as usual and wwx miraculously managed to flee gusu. Wwx put his guard up even he has successfully escape and ran to the most secluded part of Caiyi town. After resting for few hours and after the adrenaline was gone ,wwx realised that he was severely injured and crippled. His left leg cannot be bend without causing painful jolt like feeling. Him running all the way from gusu to caiyi with a bleeding back and hurting leg was indeed a miracle. Now , if walking was painful , then running was courting death. With careful planning using his survival skills and experience , wwx continues his painstaking slow journey and enters a forest , opposite direction of gusu and lotus pier. Wwx was last seen by a fruit vendor of Caiyi Town ; limping away without a trace.

Lwj without a doubt used an inquiry to find wwx , but wwx was an ambitious lad. Wwx somehow managed to create a talisman that can hide his presence even to spirits. Jc has issued posters all over the place , in hopes that someone might give an intel for him to find his brother but to no avail , no one has a clue of where wwx has been gone to. Wwx - like a ghost , has disappeared . JYL and JXZ was also at deeps end, unable to trace her missing brother. Other major sects also keep an eye for wwx, though the Lan clan has claimed that wwx’s demonic cultivation was sealed and was severly injured, who knows what can that young man do ?

Timeskip to 13 years later, JL LJY and LSZ (assuming that the siege never happened, but lwj adopted a-yuan as per requested by wq and wn to ensure he was raised at a proper & healthy background and the wen remnants survived and disperse for safety) was attacked at goddess temple only to be saved by a mystery crippled guy with mask (JL: a non cultivator nonetheless!) (LJY: what an amazing talent ! Only using talisman to beat the statue!). The teenagers were awestruck with the masked man’s skill, that they wanted to thanked him with a meal and few drinks but was rejected and the man leaves.

JL who never accepts no for an answers suggest to secretly follows the man so that they can send drinks or some offering for him to his house instead. Ljy and Lsz tagged along as they were curious of their saviour after all. A non cultivator cannot detect presence like a cultivator do, so the man was unaware that he was tailed. Upon arriving an old shack with a small potato farm , the man limped and sat with a grunt. Taking off his mask , he took a bottle of water and consumed a few concoction of medicine before coughing. The teenagers was surprised on the living condition of their saviour. JL however upon seeing the face of the man, went wide eyes.

“That man, he was in the poster my jiujiu used to issue around LP . My A-niang talks about him a lot,” looking over his other two confused companions. “I can never forget that face. The face that always make my mother cry upon looking at his picture and frown at his name. He is my missing big uncle , Wei Wuxian of Jiang Sect.”

“Ah i heard about him. Apparently our Elders punished him until he was missing his golden core , i think? Or is it the other way around?” Ljy spoke. “But i think the limping was the consequences from our Sects’ punishment. That time , Lan sect and Jiang Sect almost broke the treaty. I heard Madame Jiang managed to convinced your uncle to stop”.

They saw the man plowing a part of his potato field ,who occasionally stopped due to his heavy cough and resume his work. “Wwx , he is the person my father has been looking for the past 13 years. I need to let him know” Lsz finally spoke, smiling.

“Oh my potatoes , I hope you grew up fat and yummy for this master over here! I need more money , or i wont be able to buy medicine. You dont want me to die yet are you~” sang wwx. The 3 looked at each other and finally decides to leave for their respective inn, bringing a joyous news for their leaders.

Next day, both JC and lwj accompanied by the 3 went to wwx’s house. Both heartbroken on the state of the old shack . Knocking the wooden door and clearly listening on the voice mumbling from inside “who the hell would come here early in the morning at middle of a forest”, jc and lwj was shocked on the physical appearance of their missing person. Sunken cheeks and dark eyes as indication of fatigue , limping , voice hoarse from sickness and the obvious whipping scars marring from behind his neck to under the ragged clothes , jc couldnt help but to greet wwx with a hug , holding him so gentle in fear that wwx would break with the slightest of strength. Wwx frozen in shock couldnt hug back but made eye contact with lwj. “Weiying, please forgive me that I couldn’t protect you. I am very sorry.” After 13 years of internal pain and agony , wwx for the first time shed his tears . “I forgive you , so you all should leave me alone. I am a burden. Im no longer a cultivator , but a crippled man with not much time to left. I am nothing but a burden. Please” sobbed wwx.

“Idiot. Give us a chance to take care of you. A-jie misses you so much, every day and night. You haven’t met your nephew , Jing Ling . Don’t you want to eat her soup? And about your health, i can call WenQing to help you. She is still the best doctor alive. Come back with us , okay ? And no one will hurt you. “ jc.

Wwx was shocked to hear wq was still alive and her name was spoken by jc without an ounce of hatred. What have been happening for the past few years he have been isolating himself ? With shaking hands , he grabbed jc’s robe and nodded. He made another eye contact with lwj and could see how sincere he is from his eyes. Maybe , all this time , the fact that lwj hates me and sending me to my demise was all a misunderstanding?

“I am no more a cultivator.”

“It’s fine , WeiYing”

“I cannot contribute to Jiang sect anymore.”

“Who cares about that, idiot?”

“I’m going to be a burden !!! I cant even walk properly. My health is deteriorating”

“WeiYing, if tired , I can carry. Let me take care of you when sick”

“Lan Zhan, i dont want to go to gusu”

“We can go anywhere other than Gusu.”

“I wont let you take a single step to that damn place , no offence Second Young master Lan”

“None taken.”

———

(Alternate ending)

Wwx was still unconscious and attacked by a high fever due to infection in his wound. Numerous method has been used to mitigate the after effect of the whip , but to no avail. Infection starts to spread to his legs, and wwx was delirious and moaning in his sleep due to pain. The severity of the wound caused both of his legs to sepsis and the healers has no other way than to amputate the legs to make sure that the infection will not spread internally.

After the surgery of removing wwx’s legs , the infection are able to be minimised but still needs to be monitored. Still, wwx has no signs of waking up. Lwj was loyal to his side , taking care of changing the bandages . Every night , lwj had a nightmare of the reaction of wwx waking up with no legs . One particular nightmare that haunts him the most is weiying took out his own life out of despair. Lwj couldnt sleep for two nights watching over wwx after that nightmare occurs.

After 6 days, lqr visited the room and berates lwj for neglecting his duty as a student of Lan sect. Lwj angrily talks back, and was taken to kneel in the hall for one day. When he came back , no one was watching wwx. He came back with pure silence from wwx .Where there should a ragged breathing from wwx , it was only silence. Wwx’s usually pale lips was ashen. Bandaged chest that should be heaving was still. Wwx finally succumbed to his injuries after 11 days of fighting and lwj (again) was not by his side. His sect (again) are the cause of pain for his beloved ones and has taken everything from him.

—-

Wow took this one hour and a half. This is my second time posting here. 😋 enjoy?

-b

[llodblinky]

Chapter 2:

Llod and the girls, X'tolzia and Cirina, are brought back to Ul'Dah to tend to their wounds and recuperate after the fighting they had just endured.

The following day, Llod wakes up in his room, having gone back to his home upon being treated and leaving the girls in the conjurers and white mages hands. He knew they'd be taken care of, but unfit to be on the move for a while. Having scrounged up what gil he could, went to the local market to grab a couple of flowers for both of them.

He picked out a couple that reminded him of X's fiery nature, and a few that complimented Cirina's line of work. Taking extra care amd notice to X's little bouquet. Once the sale was finalized he headed on over to the docs clinic. Once he entered he was greeted by the hyper girl at the front desk, Jaynee.

"Welcome back Llod, glad to see you're moving okay!" She exclaimed, her voice booming in the small clinic. "Oooooo, some flowers for those two girls huh? Aren't they just sooo lucky."

"Wha- its just a nice gesture is all." He says, slightly blushing out of embarrassment. "They took a worse beating than I did so its the least I can do to show my appreciation. And keep your voice down, it WAS a surprise."

Jaynee simply gave him a big grin holding a finger to her mouth, gesturing him to follow her.

"The doctor is with them now, there has been a complication with X'tolzia though. He can explain." A grim expression falls over Llod's face after hearing such a teaser. She opens the door, entering with Llod following. "Hey girls, look who I found. A caring and considerate gentleman, what a sweetheart ain’t he?"

"Seriously!? Again with this!? You're such a pain sometimes." He yells, looking away from the other two. "Hey guys, I brought a little gift for you two. It aint much but it's a token of my appreciation for your help." He holds out two bouquets and hands them over.

"Wow, they're so pretty Llod! Thank you so much." Cirina says infatuated with her bouquet. Her eyes sparkling. "You didn’t have to do that."

"Damn Llod, I had know idea you were holding out on me with your gil." X'tolzia shoots him a sneering look before laughing. "Ahahahaha, I'm kidding I'm kidding. They are gorgeous though, thank you." Her tone is sincere, and it makes Llod forget where he is for a few moments.

"Excuse me Llod." A tall Elezen calls out to him from the doorway.

"U-uh, y-yes, Wodrick!?" Llod spins around blushing hard from X'tolzia's thank you. Being gestured out of the room, Jaynee entering to tend to the two girls.

"Now" Wodrick takes a breath, his slim figure and sharp green eyes staring deep into Llod as he begins. "Cirina is recovering at a steady pace, I believe a few more days rest is all she'll need. X'tolzia on the other hand." He pauses "The aether flow in her body was disrupted, she no longer can use her left leg. A treatment is possible however, except that the required materials are not common and I haven't received any shipments as of late."

Llod's head hangs, she got hurt because of him. She wouldn't have been there if he had turned her away instead. But that no longer matters, what does is doing what he can to help her right now. He picks his head up, fired up.

"What is it? The materials, I can go looking for them and bring them back myself." He states, his gaze unfaltering. "Just point me in the right direction and I promise I'll bring it back, I have to. For her."

Wodrick, runs his hand through his shoulder length, white mane. Sighs, and agrees.

"Ok, its really only one thing I'll need your help locating. It's an herb that when its medicinal properties are combined with healing magicks, we can correct cut off or disproportioned aether flow with out bodies." He assures Llod. "Then I'll be able to correct X'tolzia's inner flow of aether."

This news brings a smile to Llod's face, he simply asks where its typically found. Wodrick says normally near the pixies home and Gridania. Llod nods and heads back into the room so he may part ways for now.

"Hey you two...Jaynee. I'm gonna have to head out now, and I wont be back for a while. Going on a little search for the doc in Gridania." He stops, not wanting to say anymore right now. "I won't be gone too long though."

"Gridania huh?" Cirina ponders. "Well if you ever need help, our parents live there and I'm sure they'd be more than willing to assist you. I even know a few of the resident archers from when I was among them. So if you need any help, just mention my name ok?" She informs Llod.

"Oh, thanks a lot Cirina, I'll be sure to ask for it when I get there." He smiles, then looks over to X. Her face of a brooding nature, her mind elsewhere. Overhearing their conversation with her enhanced hearing. Llod pokes her to snap her out of it.

"Gyah! D-don't do that, you know how easily frightened I get when I zone out." She shouts, blushing a bit staring at Llod. "Uh, well, that’s nice to hear though, about your little trip. I hope you return safely. I'd go with you but, obvious injuries ahaha." She chuckles, hiding her worries and fears.

Llod smiles at her, heads to the doorway, turns back and gives a small wave. Parting with them and heading to the airship landing.

Cirina and X are alone in their room now. She looks to her sister and waves for her attention.

"Hey X, are you ok? You've been a bit down even before Llod left. What's wrong?" Worry creeps over her face as she questions X'tolzia.

She is silent, the room still. Gripping her bed sheets tighter nearly puncturing the cloth with her nails.

"I just...I heard what they were talking about. And I knew it even before then. I cant walk on my left leg anymore." She pauses, Cirina's eyes grow wide in disbelief. "According to what Wodrick told Llod, the hit I took messed up my body's aetherial flow, and now my leg is unable to move."

"Is that why Llod went to Gridania then?" She asks.

"I don’t know, it got harder to hear with Jaynee being herself haha. So I'm assuming so, I just hope he comes back ok. Even if he can't help fix my leg." X'tolzia lays back down, turning her head to the nearby window.

"He'll be fine, I'm sure of it." She copies X's previous movements. "From what you’ve told me, he’s never one to let someone down right?” She turns over to look at X. “Pluuuuus, I can see he cares about you a lot sis. Even how much you like him. Mhmhm." She snickers.

"That's not even remotely true!" She exclaims, her face as red as a tomato. She fiddles with her fingers. "I mean, he is kinda cute and all, but we're just friends and comrades. N-nothing more Cirina." X'tolzia reassures but is terrible at hiding her feelings.

"If you say so sister." Cirina says in a mocking tone. "Goodnight~" She lays down for good, falling asleep only a few moments later.

X is still awake, thinking of the comments Cirina made regarding Llod. She ponders what he is doing now, if he is safe on his way to Gridania. She wishes he come back safe, as she does off to sleep.

[the-shadow-of-atlantis]

Losing A Friend

Summary: Part of the Throughout the Years series. Annabella experiences loss and Burce is unsure how to handle it.

Tagging: @lizartgurl (Still going to tag you while you’re gone) @thespacebuns @melyaliz @coffee-randomness @speedypan @gobydana

A/N So I know for a fact I posted this not too long ago because @thespacebuns reblogged with her amazing tag comments but as I’m working on updating my master list I cant find this one so I dont know if i accidentally elected it or if tumblr did

Warnings: Pet death(Honestly it was so hard to write this)

Read Earlier Parts Here

Ever since that old black cat had come into Annabella’s life Bruce knew there was something special about it. Annabella couldn’t go anywhere without the cat following her. The cat had been dubbed Mr. Kitty and he was her protector. Sure lots of people tended to give Annabella and Mr. Kitty a side eye but Bruce didn’t really mind he knew the cat made her happy and that’s what mattered the most, though he could never help but wonder where did he come from.

“Are you sure you didn’t send him?” Bruce asked as he watched Annabella play in the garden with Mr. Kitty.

“Should I be offended that you think I’d spy on my granddaughter with a cat?” Teresa said over the phone.

“So your not spying on her?” Bruce asked.

“Not with a cat.”

Bruce sighed as he watched Annabella collect some flowers. “Do you think the god has anything to do with this?”

“To be honest I am not sure. It could be. Though she’s too young to be tested already.”

Bruce simply hummed a response.

“Speaking of being watched over… have you found anything recent?”

“No, and I’ve given the case over to someone else. Someone who can be a bit more thorough than me. But for someone who doesn’t have magic anymore she’s good at keeping hidden.”

“You sure know how to pick them Mr. Wayne.”

“If I recall she’s the one who came after me.” Bruce mumbled.

“Well looks like everything will be on schedule then. I can’t wait to see her. The pictures you’ve sent are adorable but still I want to hold my granddaughter.”

“You will, just one more year.” Bruce said then noticed Annabella was walking back. “I have to go We’ll talk later.”

“Goodbye Mr. Wayne and give my granddaughter a kiss for me.”

“Will do.” Bruce replies and hung up tucking the phone away in my back pant pocket.

Annabella came walking up to him a small bunch of flowers in her hands, Mr.Kitty trotted next to her holding a rather large bug in its mouth.

“Hi papa.” Annabella smiled holding the flowers up to him. “For you.”

Bruce smiled as he leaned down taking the flowers. Mr. Kitty dropped the bug by Bruce’s feet and meowed happily. Bruce was used to these cat gifts, he use to get dead rats and one squirrel but after Annabella got upset at seeing them the began hunting the bugs instead. Though Bruce still found a dead rat in his study from time to time.

“Thank you sunshine, and thank you Mr. Kitty.” Bruce kissed Annabella’s head then scratched the cats head.

“Mr. Kitty wants a nap.” Annabella said rubbing her own eyes.

“Then let’s set you both down for a nap.” Bruce said picking Annabella up and taking her to her room.

Annabella took Mr. Kittys health very seriously so Bruce did too. So when Annabella came to him one morning worried about him Bruce knew it was important.

“Papa.” Annabella whispered carefully shaking Bruces arm. “Papa.”

“Hmm what? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Bruce mumbled getting up quickly and inspected her.

“No.” Annabella said. “Somethings wrong with Mr. Kitty.”

“Oh? What is it?” Bruce asked rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“He’s not eating his breakfast and he looks sad.” Annabella explained.

“Okay let me see.” Bruce said picking up Annabella and getting out off bed.

Sure enough when they got to where Mr. Kitty likes to lay down he was curled up and staring at the floor as if he was too sad to move.

“Hey buddy whats wrong?” Bruce asked a scratching the cat on the head.

Mr. Kitty lifted his head and meowed softly before tucking his head into his paws. Bruce frowned and checked him for any injuries. Annabella tried to give him some food but he wouldn’t budge.

“Let’s take him to Virginia.” Bruce decided when he couldn’t spot anything wrong with him.

“Okay.” Annabella mumbled petting the cat softly.

Bruce knew it was bad when Virginia came back from checking on Mr. Kitty.

“Bruce can I speak to you.” Virginia said quietly glancing carefully at Annabella who was being distracted by Olivia.

“What is it?” Bruce asked when they stepped into her office.

Virginia sighed as she rubbed her eyes, she looked at Bruce with sympathy.

“Bruce I’m sorry, I don’t know how I didn’t catch it sooner but it appears Mr. Kitty has bone cancer.” Virginia said.

“Is it treatable?” Bruce asked, Virginia shook her head softly.

“I’m sorry but we don’t really know how old he is and how long he can fight this. I can have him start treatment. At the most I give him a year… your going to need to prepare Annabella for when the time comes.”

Bruce sighed and rubbed his face. He wasn’t sure how to break this news to her. He had hoped he wouldn’t have to tell her about things like this till she was older.

“Yeah I know. I’ll tell her.” Bruce sighed.

The months that followed were hard. Annabella was a bit confused as to why Mr. Kitty wasn’t getting better with the medicine, and Bruce had a hard time explaining what was happening. Still she seemed to take Mr. Kitties health even more seriously, making sure to give him his medicine on time and that he would eat properly.

“It’s medicine time Mr. Kitty.” Bruce heard Annabella say as he walked into her play room.

Mr. Kitty meowed in displeasure and Annabella petted his head.

“I know but it’s good for you.” Annabella reasoned Bruce kneeled down next her holding the medicine.

Annabella carefully held him as Bruce administered the medicine. Bruce gave the cat a small pat as he finished.

“How about we eat outside let Mr. Kitty get some fresh air.” Bruce suggested hoping to cheer her up.

“Okay.” Annabella nodded setting the cat down.

Bruce could tell the cat was trying to perk up for her.

When the day finally came Bruce felt as if his heart was going to break. He held Annabella as she cried her little heart out. Even Alfred was trying to hold back tears as he collected cat to safely put away. Bruce had decided to stay as Batman to protect her but how could he protect her against a broken heart?

“I don’t know what to do.” Bruce whispered as he rubbed his head, Selina set down a cup of coffee in front of him. “I thought maybe bringing her here might cheer her up a bit.”

The two adults looked into selinas living room where Annabella was checking the heartbeat of Selinas cat Isis. The other cats who were use to the little girl simply laid down around her waiting their turn to be “checked”.

“She’s been latching onto her kitty doctor dream a lot more.” Bruce said sadly smiling at the scene before him.

“She’s coping.” Selina said

“I know.” Bruce sighed. “I’m debating if I should get her another pet.”

“No, not now. It’s too soon. Wait for her to tell you. Right now just keep doing what your doing. Bring her here whenever you want so she can do checkups. Take her to her vet friend whenever you can. Keep encouraging her dream and she’ll get through this.” Selina said giving Bruce a small kiss on his cheek.

Bruce smiled softly and turned to face her. “Thank you, and on a different note I’ve been invited to a wedding and I need a plus one.”

“I thought you normally turn down these things.”

“Apparently my presence is being demanded and yes they’re even letting Annabella attend so no I can’t use her as an excuse.” Bruce said reading Selinas expression.

“Well in that case sure, whose wedding is it?” Selina asked and Bruce’s lips set into a fine lin.

“It’s for Falcone’s nephew.” He mumbled.

“I see.” Selina said smoothly her eyes fixed on Annabella again. “Tell me when and I'll meet you there.”

Bruce smiled at her and gave her a kiss.

“Have you buried him yet?” Selina suddenly asked.

“No poor thing is just frozen haven’t had the heart to bury him yet.”

“You should do something special, something to help her say goodbye properly.” Selina said.

Bruce nodded as he watched Annabella snuggle into a pile of cats.

“Okay let's dig just a little more.” Bruce urged, Annabella nodded as she dug some more dirt out of the hole with her little shovel.

“Like that?” Annabella asked when she finished.

“Perfect.” Bruce said as he grabbed the small box.

It was a simple wooden box he had made and let Annabella decorate with little drawings. Carefully he placed it in the hole and covered part of it up with dirt.

“Now we put the plant in.” Bruce said helping Annabella put the plant in place.

“Okay.” Annabella said and carefully began patting more dirt in place.

“Good. Now some water.” Bruce encouraged, Annabella grabbed her little pale and drizzled some water over the plant.

Annabella let out a small huff when she finished and wiped her face.

“We met Mr. Kitty like this.” She suddenly spoke.

“Yeah we did.” Bruce said carefully.

“He loved the garden.”

“Yeah he did.”

“I miss him.” Annabella mumbled.

“I know you do sunshine. I miss him too.” Bruce said wrapping an arm around his daughter.

“I love you papa.” Annabella said burying her face against him.

“I love you too sunshine.”

Annabella looked back at the plant. “Goodnight Mr. Kitty”

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[huphilpuffs]

flares

chapter: 30/? summary: Dan’s body has been broken for as long as he can remember, and he’s long since learned to deal with it. Sort of. But when his symptoms force him to leave uni and move into a new flat with a stranger named Phil, he finds that ignoring the pain isn’t the way to make himself happy. word count: 4760 rating: mature warnings: chronic illness, chronic pain, medicine a/n: As always, immense thanks to @obsessivelymoody for beta’ing!

Ao3 link || read from beginning

It’s too early when Phil gets out of bed to get ready for work.

His arm slips from around Dan’s waist. He presses a quick kiss to Dan’s shoulder before crawling out from behind him. The alarm clock on the bedside table tells Dan it’s just past seven in bright red lines that make his eyes burn. 

He’s been staring at them since they said 5:27.

He’d woken up to a sharp breath that made his chest ache, tears in his eyes and sticky on his cheeks. His feet were numb and his hands all prickly with sleep and he’d stared into the black of Phil’s bedroom for long minutes waiting for his body to recover from whatever it was that woke him up. It had taken him until two to fall asleep last night.

Dan didn’t fall asleep again.

His legs ache now that they’re not sleepy. His arm hurts from having his weight on it for so long. Without Phil’s body holding him up, Dan rolls onto his side. It makes the muscles in his chest spasm, has him choking on nothing and groaning into the silence.

Phil comes over to the edge of the bed, reaching out to brush his fingers across Dan’s forehead.

“You okay?” he whispers. 

Dan’s eyes get teary again. He blames the too-tight feeling wrapped around his heart, the thoughts that have been circling the back of his mind for the last two hours. His body hurts from not having slept and his brain keeps telling him that his mum was right, it is all his brain’s fault, that’s what Dr. Kissel will tell him today.

He reaches up, snags Phil’s hand to hold on tight, and hums something that isn’t quite affirmative.

It’s the best he can muster this morning.

A frown draws at Phil’s mouth. He leans down, pressing a quick kiss to Dan’s forehead. And then a second one, like he doesn’t really want to pull away.

Dan doesn’t want him to. If this broken feeling wasn’t so perpetual, he might ask Phil to call in sick and stay home with him, keep him company when the drone of TV programs isn’t enough to keep him out of his own head. But Phil’s done a lot. Dan’s needed a lot.

He hopes that’ll diminish today. 

Hope’s never been his strong suit before doctor’s appointments.

He tugs on Phil’s hand until he leans down, fringe tickling Dan’s brow, and kisses him, soft and gentle and slow.

And then he lets Phil go.

---

Dan: i hate weekdays

Phil doesn’t respond. Not that he should. Dan knows he probably has to do extra since he’s leaving early to come to Dan’s appointment. That doesn’t keep him from flicking his phone on and off over and over again for too many minutes after he sends the message.

It’s been a long morning. The clock on his phone tells him it’s only half eleven and Dan almost wants to cry. 

There’s four and a half hours until his appointment. He’s been staring into space for so long his brain is starting to go numb and yet there’s too much going on inside his mind to focus on anything else.

He’d considered sitting down, rambling into the void, also known as his laptop webcam, again. It helped last time. But it feels almost silly, when he’s by himself, without Phil to recommend he do it. That, and the idea of setting any of it up sounds like way too much effort today.

He double taps the screen, copies the message and sends the exact same thing to Taylor.

His phone vibrates when she responds. It stings the skin of his palm, feels like it rattles the bones in his wrists. He doesn’t much care.

Taylor: why?

Dan: phil’s not home

Dan: and my appts this afternoon and i cant stop thinking about it

He swallows, looking back up to stare at the TV. He’s definitely seen this episode of Doctor Who before, probably on another day like today, watching the endless marathons of the same few shows for hours on end when his body doesn’t really let him do much else.

His brain can’t process it today. It’s too busy replaying every appointment he’s ever had in the most painful sort of slow motion.

Taylor: :(

Taylor: i know that feeling

Dan: yea well it sucks

He rests his phone on his leg, where the pressure makes a dull ache bloom like a new bruise. His thumb hovers over the home button until the three little dots of Taylor’s typing pop onto the screen. He watches, because it’s better than staring at white walls and waiting for minutes to tick by.

Taylor: want some company? 

Taylor: I know i’m not phil but I also don’t have a job

Dan: pls

---

He has to stand up to let her into the flat.

His steps are slow. The blanket he has wrapped around his shoulders flutters over his skin and leaves phantom burns in its wake. His hand almost feels too weak to turn the doorknob when he gets there. There’s a stabbing pain in his wrist that makes it feel like it might shatter as it twists.

Taylor’s smiling on the other side. It falters, just slightly, when she sees him.

“I’d hug you hello, but you look like you’re dying,” she says. 

Dan manages half, or maybe a quarter of a smile. “Feel like it too.”

He leads her back to the sofa, still limping. Walking past the breakfast bar reminds him he hasn’t had anything to eat today, and barely a few sips of water to drink. The thought makes his stomach churn, something burning at the back of his throat. He won’t eat until after the appointment.

Maybe later, if it goes poorly.

Probably later.

Taylor tucks herself against the armrest as Dan sits down, knees drawn up to her chest, face pressed against one. Being sat with her, like this, reminds him of being back in uni. Except she looks better. There’s less darkness under her eyes and less oil in her hair, and Dan wishes he could relate.

His whole body feels heavy. Worse than it did even then.

“That bad, huh?” says Taylor. 

“Can’t sleep,” says Dan. “I don’t know what to expect.”

“So you’re expecting the worst?”

He can’t be bothered to nod. The corner of Taylor’s mouth quirks up knowingly, and she reaches out to rest a hand right by Dan’s knee, without touching. 

“We should talk about something else,” she says. “Something happy. Keep your mind off it for a while.”

“Like what?”

She shrugs. “Just tell me something good that happened? My therapist makes me do it sometimes.”

“Oh,” says Dan. He stares down at the table, where his phone’s resting, screen down, and his laptop’s closed. His hand curls tight around his blanket. 

When he looks back up at Taylor, her brow’s furrowed, smile fallen into a straight line. “You look like you’re thinking about something,” she says.

“I am,” Dan mumbles. He swallows, thumb sweeping across the fleece of his blanket until his fingertip’s gone tingly. “Phil kissed me.”

Taylor’s jaw drops. Her eyes go happy. She reaches over, actually touches Dan this time, just enough to grab his hand and squeeze it once in glee. “Oh my god. That’s, like, the best kind of happy,” she says. “It is happy, right?”

Dan wants to point out that he wouldn’t have mentioned it if it wasn’t, but the smile on her face finally has his anxiety unfurling just enough for him to breathe a little easier. Maybe Taylor’s therapist actually has some useful ideas. 

He forces himself not to follow that thought to the next, the ones saying maybe all he needs is therapy over and over again in his mum’s voice in the back of his head.

“Yeah, it’s happy,” he says. “You know that.”

“And you’re not having some sexuality crisis you need me to talk you through?” she says, half laughing now. “I’ve been there. I can try to help.”

Dan actually manages half a chuckle, like he did when she first told him she liked girls, halfway through a complaint about how everyone at uni somehow had a love life except them. “Reckon I got over that when he started kissing my head all the time,” he says. “Thanks for the offer though.”

She nods, still holding his hand, staring at the side of his face with a smile. “So this is just happy, right? No inner turmoil about what it means or anything?”

It’s been so long since Dan’s had anything be that simple that his brain doesn’t quite grasp the concept. He almost tells her no, just because it makes more sense, because his brain is really good at finding problems where there’s probably non right now. 

It doesn’t feel like he can be just happy now.

But then he thinks about the soft goodnight kiss Phil brushed against his lips before they went to bed to bed last night, and an actual smile cracks past the fear. 

“Yeah,” he tells her. “That’s just happy.”

---

They talk about Phil for a while.

It’s easy, with Taylor, to just ramble about sleepy cuddles and soft kisses and the way it all makes him feel good for the first time in ages. It reminds Dan of being twelve again, before everything went wrong and his body broke and any chance at normalcy crumbled before his very eyes. 

Maybe there is room for a sexuality crisis, if he thinks too hard about the crushes he might have had if he’d been healthy.

Dan doesn’t think about it. He lets his head fall back against the sofa and feels his thoughts lapse into everything that came after age twelve. His story about their kiss ended a bit ago, faded into discussions about where he wants things to go from here, and then into silence.

There’s a lot of things Dan wants now. Most of them have nothing to do with kissing Phil.

“Hey,” says Taylor. He’s not sure how long they’ve just been sitting here, but her smile has fallen into a frown. “You okay?”

He shrugs. Vaguely, he processes that people are still talking on the TV, that Taylor’s hand has fallen to rest on his knee. “Just thinking.”

“Not about happy things?”

His chest burns when he chuckles. The rush of giddy conversation has faded, left Dan’s body more exhausted now than it was before. He almost wants to nap, except he knows his brain wouldn’t let him. Days like today are just days where he’s meant to be sore and tired and feel all of it acutely.

“No,” he says. “Not about happy things.”

Taylor squeezes his knee. It hurts. It’s comforting anyway. 

“Do you want me to try and distract you with more happy things?”

“Don’t think you can,” he admits. “I think I’ve used up all my happy energy for today.”

His head falls back again, gaze drifting up to the ceiling. His vision goes blurry. It’s not from tears. Dan’s pretty sure his eyes are just tired, too. It takes too much energy to force them to focus again.

He takes a breath. It hurts his throat, his head being bent back like this, and tugs at the tendons in his neck. 

“I don’t think it’s going to be a happy day,” he whispers, voice cracking “I’m–”

Scared. He doesn’t say it. 

“I know,” says Taylor.

They sit there, listening to the same drawl that Dan usually does. His eyes have fallen closed. He can hear his own breathing, loud compared to Taylor’s, but he doesn’t much care to worry about it. Taylor’s never been bothered by the little ways Dan’s body is different.

She just leans forward, snagging the remote from where it was sitting on the coffee table, and says, “Let’s put on a better film, at least.”

If Dan had the energy, he’d smile.

---

Phil gets home from work earlier than Dan expected.

“I worked my lunch,” he explains. “And my boss deemed me completely useless today. Apparently I was distracted.”

He’s sitting on the armrest, leaning over Dan. Whatever lighthearted smile he’s attempting lasts about half a second before it falls. His hand lands on Dan’s head, drawing his curls back. Taylor’s still sitting next to them, but Phil hardly hesitates before leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of Dan’s brow.

“Wonder why,” says Taylor. It’s a whisper, like she’s trying not to interrupt. “I should get going, though. I’m sure you guys have to get ready or some shit.”

Dan almost asks her to stay, just so he has an excuse to pretend that three thirty isn’t slowly sneaking up on him.

“Thanks for coming over,” says Phil.

“Yeah, of course.”

Dan can hear her smile, can see Phil’s. It makes his chest go warm. 

Taylor looks down at him before she leaves. “Good luck,” she says. “Text me when you’re ready to talk about whatever the doctor has to say.”

“I will,” says Dan. He hopes his smile is enough to tell her how much he appreciates the space she permits him.

Phil escorts her to the door. They hug before she leaves. Dan hears the murmur of her voice, too far for him to pick up on any words. He listens to the door open, then close, and then Phil returns by himself, dropping into the seat Taylor was just occupying.

Dan should probably feel bad for how relieved he is that Phil’s here now, but he doesn’t, not really.

His head falls back against the cushions, too, turned so he’s looking at Dan. He looks exhausted, eyes puffy and face all drawn. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Shit,” says Dan. “You?”

“Scared,” Phil whispers.

Dan nods, awkward and crooked with his head still tilted back. He reaches into the space between them, taking Phil’s hand in his. Their fingers interlock, and the pressure against his knuckles is not very comfortable, but it makes the corner of Phil’s mouth quirk up.

“Yeah,” says Dan. “Me too.”

---

They get to the doctor’s office early.

Sitting at home, waiting for the minutes to tick by, had become unbearable. Dan forgot that waiting rooms are always exponentially worse. Phil’s arm isn’t wrapped around him here. They don’t hold hands. Their feet are pressed together between their seats. It’s not enough.

Across from them, a mum is rocking her baby as he fusses. And older man is reading one of the magazines left out for them. Phil had tried to pick one up, and had put it down about thirty seconds later. The secretary who booked this appointment is talking on the phone. The other is checking someone in.

There’s a poster about heart failure on the wall. 

Dan stares at it until his chest starts to hurt and the anxiety makes his eyes water.

Phil grabs his hand, holds on tight.

“Your heart's fine,” he says. “You’ve had that tested before, right?”

“Yeah.” Dan lets out a breath. “Yeah. It was fine.”

“Okay,” says Phil. “Okay. That’s good.”

His grip on Dan’s hand loosens, his breath coming easier. 

Dan’s stays locked painfully between his ribs until a nurse steps out from the hallway and calls his name.

---

She checks his height, even though he hasn’t grown in over a year. And then his weight, as though it’s fluctuated much since his last growth spurt, since he lost his appetite and ability to exercise all at once. 

“Looks good,” she says, like she thinks that’s what Dan cares about.

She leads him into a little room and asks him questions, the familiar kind with automatic answers. No, he’s not diabetic. No, he doesn’t smoke. No, he hasn’t had caffeine in the last couple hours, because just the thought of putting something on his stomach makes him want to be sick.

He doesn’t say that last bit.

She wraps the blood pressure cuff around his arm. Dan squeezes his eyes shut against the pain when it tightens. He should be used to it. Part of him doesn’t think he’ll ever be.

His pulse is high, his blood pressure low. The nurse points it out.

“It’s always like that,” he explains.

She looks back at him, brows furrowed, skeptical. Dan hates it. He manages a shrug and a smile, an unspoken apology for something stupidly out of his control like his heart not beating quite right. 

He tries not to think about chronic obstructive heart failure.

The nurse jots something down on her triage paper and leads him into an exam room to sit and wait some more. Phil grabs his hand again the moment she closes the door behind her.

---

Dr. Kissel is smiling when she walks in. Dan’s not sure if that’s supposed to be comforting or not.

“How are you doing today?” she asks as she sits down, turning to log into the computer.

“Uh,” says Dan. “As okay as to be expected?”

She hums, turning back to him in her spinny office chair. The collar of her lab coat is popped awkwardly at one side. There’s a pen hanging from its pocket, a stethoscope draped across her shoulders. Her smile hardly falters as she says, “So, not very well at all, I assume?” 

It’s so not what Dan expected that he chuckles. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“I take it you want to get straight to your test results, then?” says Dr. Kissel.

He swallows hard. If the nurse thought his pulse was high before, he’d half laugh at what she’d have to say now. “Please.”

Dr. Kissel turns back to her computer at that. He watches her click through what he vaguely recognizes as his chart. Just above the notes from his last appointment are the last things his old doctor ever wrote about him, at the appointment where he counted Dan’s tests one by one and told him that if they were all fine there was nothing he could do unless Dan was willing to accept he was imagining it all.

Dan doesn’t read them, doesn’t want to. He never wants to be exposed to those words again.

He watches Dr. Kissel click on a link of some kind, and a monochrome image fills her computer screen. It takes him a second to realize he’s staring at his own brain, at the results from his MRI, autoplaying on a loop through his entire head over and over again.

Something in his chest spasms. Phil squeezes his hand. He never let it go.

“Okay, so first we have your MRI, which are the results I was most concerned about,” says Dr. Kissel. She turns back towards him, grabbing her pen to use it as a pointer. “If there was any signs of deterioration or abnormal structures like a tumour or aneurysm, we’d see it here.”

Dan stares. He can’t really see anything in his brain. He doesn’t know what a sign of deterioration looks like. He almost doesn’t want to ask.

He doesn’t have to, because Phil says, “And?”

“And I see no signs of any abnormalities with your brain,” says Dr. Kissel. “Your brain appears healthy, Dan.”

“Oh,” he says. 

His eyes are burning now. He hates the fact that it’s not from relief, that he doesn’t really know what’s welling in his chest, putting pressure in his skull, but it doesn’t feel good when he knows it should.

“What about the, uh, bloodwork?”

She doesn’t open those results, just leaves the screen playing a morbid cycle of his perfectly healthy brain. 

Dr. Kissel smiles, and says, “Those results also came back normal.”

Dan just about breaks down right there in the middle of her office. A tear falls down his cheek. His leg starts shaking. Phil has to reach out and rest a hand on his back just to keep him from giving up on keeping his breathing even at all.

Dr. Kissel reaches out, rests her hand on the armrest, close to Dan’s elbow.

“That doesn’t mean anything, you know,” she says. Her voice has gone soft. Dan’s never had a doctor, not even a therapist, speak to him like that. “I reviewed your medical history and I’m aware of the conclusions drawn by your past physician. That’s not where I’m going with this.”

“It’s not?” says Dan. It sounds choked. He feels like a kid. 

Except when he was a kid he didn’t have to deal with any of this.

“It’s not,” says Dr. Kissel. “Rather, I suspect you might have a condition that doesn’t show up on any of our current tests, at least not to our knowledge. Ruling out other conditions is the first step to diagnosing it.”

Phil’s hand starts rubbing circles against his spine at that. If Dan looked over, he’s pretty sure Phil would be smiling.

But he doesn’t. He can’t look away from Dr. Kissel, not now. “What’s the next step?” he whispers.

“Well, there’s two. The diagnostic criteria is in the process of evolving, so I’d like to perform both,” she says. “One of them might be painful.”

“Can we do that one first?”

It’s probably the wrong order to want. Dan doesn’t care. Part of him wants the pain to remind him that she’s actually looking for something physical. For once. For the first fucking time in seven years. 

Dr. Kissel smiles like she knows that and nods her head just once. “I’ll need you to stand up for this,” she says. “I’m going to press against specific spots on your body, and you need to tell me if it hurts, okay?”

He nods. His heart’s still racing when he stands. His legs feel weak with something other than exhaustion. 

Something almost thrilling, like anticipation.

Dr. Kissel starts by pressing her thumb against the base of his skull, right where his head meets his neck. Dan almost screams at the burst of pain it causes. 

It turns into a laugh, delirious and bubbly and out of control. When he turns, Phil’s smiling at him. Dr. Kissel is staring at him expectantly. 

“Yeah, that hurts,” he says, so she does the same thing to the other side of his head.

He laughs again, because it hurts and it feels like that’s what it’s supposed to do for whatever mystery illness Dr. Kissel’s testing him for. Phil laughs with him. He’s probably confused, but he doesn’t seem to care. Dr. Kissel moves onto the next spot, right where Dan’s neck meets his shoulder, and mumbles a quiet three under her breath when he squirms away from her touch.

In the end, he gets sixteen out of eighteen spots. Dr. Kissel tells him the minimum for a diagnosis is eleven. 

Dan probably shouldn’t be proud of that.

He settles back into his seat. The pressure of it hurts. Pain has bloomed all across his body and Dr. Kissel offered an apology that it would probably take a little while to fade and Dan doesn’t care. His leg bounces even though there was a spot in his hip that almost made it give out completely. 

His knee stings from when she pressed there. Dan rests his hand there anyway.

“What’s next?” he asks. He probably sounds insane.

Dr. Kissel just reaches over and draws a packet of papers from her folders. She sets it down on the desk by him. The front page has a picture of a gender-non-specific person with arms spread and eyes closed. The top of it has a header that reads Fibromyalgia Diagnostic Criteria. 

Dan has no idea what that means.

“You just need to fill out this assessment,” says Dr. Kissel. And then, “I told you this one would be less painful.”

Phil chuckles. Dan does, too. He grabs the pen she offers him and starts reading.

The first question asks him to check off every area of the body where he’s had pain in the last week. Dan reads the list once, twice, three times before looking up at Dr. Kissel. 

“Is it stupid of me to check off all of them?”

“Not if it’s the truth,” she says. “That’s a very common response for people with this condition.”

“Oh,” says Dan. Something twists in his stomach at being included in that. “Okay.”

So he checks off all of them, his shoulders and arms and upper and lower back, and jaw and neck and chest and legs and buttocks. The only thing that goes unchecked in the last option that reads None of the above . Dan’s brain can’t even wrap around that idea.

The second question is called the Symptom Severity Score. It asks Dan to rate some symptoms on a scale of zero to three. It feels like a failure when he needs to check the box next to 1: slight or mild problems when it comes to cognitive symptoms. 

Dan’s pretty sure that part of his brain is the only part of him that still works properly. Most of the time.

The last question is just a list of symptoms that tells him to check off all the ones he’s had in the last week. He has to ask what some are. Some are things he has but never really thought were related. His gaze lingers on the word seizures for the first time, printed on a list that includes rashes and dry eyes.

It’s the first thing that’s really scared him. That box stays unchecked. He wonders how much it matters.

When he hands the test back to Dr. Kissel, she’s already nodding like she knows the answer it’ll contain. Dan’s pretty sure he does, too.

She writes a giant 28 in blue pen at the bottom of the page, and looks up at him with a sad sort of smile. 

“Okay, this confirms my suspicions,” she says. “Your symptoms appear to be caused by Fibromyalgia.”

Dan swallows, bobs his head. “Okay. Okay,” he says. “Uh, what does that mean?”

---

His legs feel different when he walks outside. Maybe because they still ache from the pressure point test she did, or because there’s a residual tingling from how much he was shaking during the appointment. Except the rest of Dan’s body feels different too.

The sunlight burns his tired eyes. Holding his head up takes too much energy. They stand on the curb waiting for their cab to show up and Dan’s chest aches and yet feels lighter than it has in days.

Weeks. Years, probably.

Dr. Kissel explained to him what it was, with a bunch of fancy medical terms he’ll need to google later. Something called central sensitization means his brain is fucked up and doesn’t know how to process shit and makes everything hurt and it fits so very well with how his body seems to experience the word that Dan doesn’t care that he doesn’t understand. 

He doesn’t know much right now. She recommended lifestyle changes as a first step and he has no idea what that’s going to entail. He doesn’t know what meds he might end up on, or how much better he’ll get. Dr. Kissel told him this was usually a life-long condition.

Dan feels like that should be terrifying. Except he’s grown to expect that whatever it was wouldn’t be an easy fix. 

He’s not dying, though. She told him that a few times, like reassurance among all the supposed-to-be-bad news. 

His weak legs sway under him after standing for too long. Phil reaches out to wrap an arm around his waist, pulling him close so Dan can lean against the steadiness of his frame. He doesn’t seem scared anymore. Maybe he will be again, once everything’s had time to sink in.

Phil leans in close, pressing his nose to the side of Dan’s head. “How are you feeling?”

Maybe Dan will be scared again, too. But he’s really not right now.

“Can I say something crazy?” he asks. 

“Go ahead.”

He pulls back, just enough to catch Phil’s gaze with his own, and says, “I think this is one of the best days of my life.”

Phil doesn’t look at him like he’s crazy. He smiles, and leans forward to press a kiss to Dan’s forehead, and holds him even tighter when his legs start to feel weak again.

The cab that pulls up looks just like the one that drove them here. Dan climbs into the back seat next to Phil, letting his head fall against the headrest, and feels himself smiling. 

[tumblunni]

Aaaaa ugh time of the month started And I’m breaking my ‘no caffeine’ fast AGAIN because I’m just so exhausted and gross feeling and I need it :P and just... uuuugh it doesnt hurt as much as it used to, I get less abdominal cramps now i try sleeping on my back whenever it starts but its still just so draining and demotivating when I know I’m not female yet I’m gonna have to deal with this shit anyway just GUH its so gross stop reminding me i have ovaries period blood fucking SMELLS, even! it smells completely different to regular blood and just a million times worse than anything on earth. i feel just as unclean as people used to treat women on their periods in ancient civilization, its just so horrible i have to pay attention to my ovaries for a week each month i have to be all achey and smell like a monster and constantly never be able to get clean and its so bad cos i have an inconsistant period i can never predict so theres always just that horrible moment of realizing halfway through the day that its started and now a good mood is ruined I refuse to let this mood be ruined, I’m just gonna stop thinking about it, ok take the pain meds and think about ANYTHING ELSE except dysphoria jesus christ and even seriously THE WORST BIT is how my period almost always coincides with my birthday too! it landed on my birthday this year and last year and on my 18th. it always fluctuates around the 12 to the 15th and its always the 12th in october exactly when i dont want it GAHHHH and sometimes its really painful and sometimes its okay and sometimes its REALLY PAINFUL I have these ridiculous blisteringly horrid periods that make me unable to fuckin walk straight cos my entire abdomen has gone numb while I vomit out everything I try to eat and sweat straight through my clothes with fever and friggin hallucinate this year’s birthday i had to go through that I had to WALK HALF A MILE TO THE SHOPS while going through that I was all out of medication and i nearly fucking fainted in the street on the way back I couldnt see anything at all, i was that goddamn dizzy it took me five tries to unlock my own door and i fucking didnt leave the house for a month after having to be outside while i was all gross and sweaty and probably everybody hated me and gahhhh I get paranoid that people can fuckin smell it on me and they know this body is female even if the person inside it isnt... I get paranoid they’ll all know I’m a fake I need to stop spiralling and just take my medicine dear god I keep freaking out more and more each month, i was able to handle this better when i was younger... it just keeps settling in that im gonna have to deal with this for the rest of my LIFE for no goddamn reason at all plz tie my tubes dear god doctor: okay we can talk about the transgender thing later, right now the priority is fixing your depression MY DUDE MY GUY DONT YOU THINK THAT WOULD HELP WITH MY DEPRESSION??? god i know probably he just means my medication would interact badly with testosterone suppliments but whatever seriously can i at least talk to a therapist about it or have my right pronouns used i built up all the courage to tell my support worker and they just pretend like it never happened and i keep cringing every time everyone keeps saying ‘miss’ and ‘woman’ even though I TOLD THEM seriously please dont make me remind you im not brave enough to speak up againnnn its hilarious the only place im out of the closet is frickin DWR CYMRU WATER BILLS COMPANY they added a ‘mx’ option on their registration forms and allowed me to change my details i dont even have it on my birth certificate, i dont even have my psychologist aknowledging it, but my frickin bathroom faucet provider is there for me they provide representation where it counts and also tap repair when it counts just imagine me scraping my claws across my face because that is what i am doing right now I need to eat my takeaway and take my medication and think about LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE okay okay I’ll try doing the measurements to get my custom binder ordered I’ll do that ...maybe tomorrow I dont know I keep putting it off cos I hate looking at my naked chest I wish i just had a bra size to give them but I legit have never known my bra size I couldnt fucking stand getting tested for it and having saleswomen look at me and touch me and talk about fucking breasts like theyre something great and like I’m a fucking woman when im not, please listen to me dear god and everyone’s telling me to get cervical exams for vaginal cancer and blablabla its important to get tested once a year when you’re over 20 but I AM NOT GETTING PEOPLE SHOVING SHIT UP MY HORRIBLE DYSPHORIA ORGAN WHILE TALKING ABOUT HOW FEMALE I APPARANTLY AM god why do i keep spiralling and thinking about everything bad I dont want to think about my body i just want the pieces gone i feel like a lunatic cos even most trans people dont have moments of literally wanting to cut your own stomach open with a knife and take the parts out i get the stupidest most over the top self harm thoughts I spend way too much time thinking of how the fuck I could possibly perform my own top surgery without bleeding out or dying of infection or whatever I ended up dwelling on it way too much when that old comic Y The LLast Man mentioned amazons ‘burning off their left boob’ as a sign of fellowship or something, I spent ages trying to figure out how the fuck you do that and how I could do it right now someone save me from this flesh coffin gross fucking sacks of uselessness and a spiderweb of disgusting blood organs that serve no purpose except punishing me every month for not wanting to have sex yeah geez fucking christ isnt femininity great cant imagine why anyone would ever not want to be a woman gahhhh and then I end up being a rude piece of shit and probably alienating all my trans woman friends who want this kind of body, and im just like PLEASE TAKE IT AWAY why cant there be a magical ray that lets us swap give me a way to pretend I’m being generous instead of selfish by self-mutilating this sad sack of a body gahhh ... sorry, dont take it serious guys, I’m just venting. I’ve had a lot of disturbing self hate thoughts before but I havent acted on them since I was a teenager. Its not all dysphoric though, sometimes god likes to spice it up by making me imagine slicing my own eyeballs out of my head or whatever XD i was having such a good day, I was going to go start drawing again... why now...

[lilacdarkcircles]

something personal

about a month ago i found out something terrifying. i noticed i was gaining weight fast and my body was taking tolls left and right. i was in the stall at forever 21 when i decided a walmart trip was needed. i bought what i needed and ran to the bathroom. i took the most life changing test of my life. i was pregnant. naturally being 18 and not even in a full year relationship with my boyfriend, my best friends’ immediate reaction was “don’t worry you can just get an abortion”. i’m sure in their mind it wasn’t too big of a deal. it’s something with a solution and that was that.

i went to my boyfriends house that night. i told him in person and cried in his arms. he’s 20 years old and we both agreed we never wanted kids. but when i looked at him he was smiling. i felt a blanket of relief. we told a close friend of ours and she agreed to take me to the hospital the following day to confirm. she asked me what i wanted to do with it and told me “its okay” when i said i truly didn’t know.

the pricked my finger and made me pee in a cup. in pennsylvania you cant outright say “im pregnant test me” at your local hospital so i complained about typical symptoms of pregnancy. they tested me for all sorts of things that (thankfully) came back negative. the only positive test was that i was for sure pregant.

next came the questions and appointments. i was on birth control that i started about late october. i didnt take the placebos so i hadn’t had a withdrawal bleed (its what your “period” is while on birthcontrol) so honestly there was no telling how far along i was. i was scared and with so much going on i decided it would be best not to keep it. i scheduled an appointment at planned parenthood for the following friday. i was sure i was at least 6 weeks but i doubted i was any further than 13. unfortunately, pennsylvania law requires you watch an educational video about the abortion process, including risks and alternatives like adoption. i was worried it would be conservative propaganda telling me i’m killing my baby and i’m the worst person alive. thankfully that wasn’t the case but the anxiety leading up to it was terrible. the day of my appointment was the worst. it felt more and more real and while i’ve spent my whole life being pro choice and recognizing the difference between a baby and a clump of cells i still felt guilty. i got my finger pricked, peed in a cup, and finally the invasive ultrasound. they shoved the prong up me with little warning. it hurt like hell and gave me triggers to my r*pe as a child. the woman doing my ultrasound was cold and sounded annoyed as she continued. after 10 minutes of reading the screen, without even glancing at me, she said “you’re 17 weeks so we’ll get you a referal to a different clinc. you’re finished here.” i couldn’t breathe. i cried and gasped for air and i was scared and confused. the refunded me most of my money and sent me on my way. protesters shoved their pamphlets in my face as i left the building. i got to the car and called my boyfriend. we spent the rest of the day at the zoo and the local cat shelter. my boyfriend and our friend tried their hardest to comfort me and make sure i was doing okay.

i called a scheduled my appointment at the new clinic. it would be the following friday and since i was so far along the price went from $530 to a whopping $1400. abortion services aren’t covered by insurance in pennsylvania and theres very little funding. i felt trapped and it felt like a sign. it was another obstacle i had to face for a baby i secretly wanted to keep. i told my two best friends about my feelings on the subject and they both simply said “you cant keep a baby youre too young”. i felt crushed and unsupported, even if they were right. my boyfriend held me as i cried and told me every chance he could get that it was my choice and he would support me no matter what.

a few days before my appointment i got a call from the new clinic. my anesthesiologist couldn’t make it in on my scheduled date and they couldn’t find a replacement. i felt myself snap. i was showing at this point and my body was breaking. i could feel the baby moving inside me and it was starting to feel less like a clump of cells and more like a fetus. my heart was breaking and this made me wish further and further to keep it. unfortunately i had gotten drunk and smoked pot and was on birth control for 3 out of the 4 months i was pregnant so even keeping the baby had so many risks. my boyfriend and i are broke and we have a month long trip planned for out of country in august. there were so many obstacles with both deciding to keep it vs an abortion i was feeling more and more trapped. i rescheduled for a different appointment and it would now be a two day process.

the week approching my appointment was strangling me. i relapsed and cried myself to sleep. i wanted to keep it so badly but i knew i couldn’t live with myseld bringing a baby into my world that wasn’t anywhere near functional or ready. my boyfriend was incredibly supportive and held me while i cried. he promised me he would be here and happy if i decided to keep it. i spent every day at his house and he rubbed my belly and brought me water. he helped me around and gave me vitamins and medicine i needed for nausea and pain. my belly was getting bigger and i resorted to baggy tshirts to hid it from friends and family we didn’t feel comfortable telling. my boyfriend researched everything possible about the risks of abortion, the risks it could have of futher pregnancies, and the risks the baby would face if we kept it. he became a medical genius in a very short amount of time so he could offer me comfort in every paranoid thought that crossed my mind.

three days before my appointment i snapped. keeping the baby was the only thought in my mind. i begged my boyfriend to make the decision for me. i know it sounds unusual and probably wrong but i felt like my opinion was jaded. i was carrying the baby and i’m sure feeling it move made me feel more and more guilty. after hours of talking we officially decided we couldn’t keep it. we were going to try in a few years and be more prepared. we’re do everything right and watch my diet and make sure there was no trace of drugs, alcohol, or nicotine in my system. i felt my heart break a little but i knew our decision was the right one.

day one of my appointment: dilation

*trigger warning: sexual abuse description*

i arrived at the clinic at 8:45am. i spent most of the morning in and out of rooms getting my blood taken, peeing in cups, signing papers, etc. i got my second ultrasound (done normally this time, no invasive stick) and i was 19 weeks and 4 days. paying was a hassle. since they predicted i would be 20 weeks i would’ve gotten funding. my entire procedure would’ve been only $960 but i missed the 20 week mark. total came out to $1260 and unfortunately i had to borrow money from my dad’s girlfriend. after paying i was back to the waiting room. next was going to be dilation. no one had told me how exactly it would happen and what they were going to do but i didn’t think it would be terrible. they called my name and i followed them to the procedure room. i undressed and put on a gown. they laid me on a chair and put my legs up on leg rests. the doctor came in and told me he would be putting his fingers inside me. i was terrified but i was ready. he wasn’t gentle and i really wasn’t taking it well. i started crying but i tried my best not to be obnoxious. (the following im about to describe may be inaccurate because i honestly wasnt told what he was doing but i believe i figured it out by what i was feeling.) next he shoved some device inside me and started opening me so he could insert the dilators. i screamed and cried and the nurse had take my finger out of my mouth because i was so close to biting it off. next were the dilators. one by one he clamped them inside me. before each one he would say “here comes another cramp you’ll be okay” and i could feel my whole body go into shock. i screamed in a way i’ve never heard myself do before and my body took me back. flashes of the r*pe i had gone through when i was 9 flooded my head and i couldn’t take it. when he was finished the nurse walked me into the recovery room, gave me antibiotics, gingerale, pretzels, information on the next 24 hours and sent me home. the rest of the day was spent laying in bed. i had diarrhea and vomiting. i was dizzy and experiencing the worst cramps of my entire life. i didn’t think i would make it through the night.

day two of my appointment: the abortion itself

i got to the clinic. i was scared but really all i wanted was the dilators taken out. i signed the last bit of papers acknowledging the risks and the biggest question “is your decision final?”. i sat in the waiting room and they called me back. they stabbed my arm with a needle seven times unable to catch the vein. they needed to hook me up to an iv. i took some medication and sat in the recovery room for two and a half hours. the chair was uncomfortable and i had no heating pad. peeing was painful and i wasn’t allowed to eat or drink anything. finally they called me back and i laid back on the table and i couldn’t stop shaking. my whole body was in shock and never felt my body move so much. i was out immediately and woke up later back in the recovery room. the diaper they put on me wasnt on all the way but i was too out of it to care. i bleed all over the chair and my gown and my lega. i cried asking where my cat and my boyfriend were and i was so exhausted i was in and out of sleep. they gave me antibiotics and gingerale and sent me home. i cried the entire ride home and crawled back into bed blood covered and crying.

this experience has no lesson. there is no beautiful outcome or something to be learned. im physically and mentally damaged from everything and guilt is weighing me down day by day. i hate being around anyone aside from my boyfriend and i want to block out the past month’s events. making the decision to abort isn’t easy and neither is the process. keeping a baby isn’t easy especially when you spent most of your pregnancy intoxicated. i don’t think i will ever truly move forward from this.

[rheyareads]

can’t sleep.

I can’t sleep.

Not surprising given my mind is running a mile a minute with thoughts and yet a bit surprising given the fact that I went to bed at 6:30 pm yesterday and slept through the night until work this morning.

I’m exhausted but I think my body is on its own schedule right now, so I suppose I’ll use the time I have wisely and try to process through some of this mile a minute thoughts (if only thinking burned calories, amirite?)

My last post had the highest views my blog has ever had. People seem to have a lot of thoughts about it and a lot have reached out to me in various ways to offer support, encouragement, advice, etc. and I appreciate all of the effort on everyone’s part. It means a lot to me. One of the biggest pieces of advice I continue to get is to go talk to someone so I suppose I will use this space here to address that in a broader context so that I don’t have to continue saying the same thing over and over again. So, here we go!

Honestly – I don’t want to.

I know that sounds like I’m being a brat but it’s true. Counseling is an intimate thing for me and I had the same counselor for 7 years while I was at Brockport and it took probably 4 years of me seeing her for me to actually trust her enough to show up consistently to work through my shit. Even after that, I would say 90% of our time together was me complaining. I’m a firm believer in counseling, I think it’s a beautiful thing, I encourage everyone to try it, and I know that it can be incredibly helpful. I literally became a counselor because I believed in it so much.

The problem is that in order for counseling to work you have to be willing to do that work, and I’m just not right now. I’m fucking exhausted. And honestly I’m sick of always having to go to counseling. I have gone for so much of my life because bad shit happens over and over and over and honestly I’m at the point where I’m just sick.of.it.

It seems like these two mindsets are conflicting, and they probably are, because HEY! I’m a gemini, that’s what we do – but in all seriousness, I don’t want to pay money to go talk to a counselor who is going to tell me things I already know and help me put together the puzzle behind why I’m feeling the way I am right now.

Let me break it down for you –

I have an incredibly deep rooted negative self-image, the product of childhood friendships that were toxic, an unhealthy and at times emotionally abusive relationship with my father, sexual assault, toxic relationships, medical issues, family trauma, medical trauma of my own and various other life events all wrapped up in a nice genetic predisposition for lack of serotonin production.

I have always felt this way about myself/my life/my achievements/my worth. I’m just usually a lot better at covering it up so that none of you worry about me and I don’t have to explain myself.

The problem is that I am utterly drained by grief right now, to the point where I am exhausting all of my energy just to get out of bed and go to work each day since losing my aunt. Thanks to a shitty guy, I was so wrapped up in bullshit when she died that I literally didn’t even mentally process her death and now I am slowly losing my mind at the thought of life without her. Because of this, I quite literally CANNOT keep up appearances and pretend that I love myself/have positive aspirations/believe I have a good future etc. I just can’t. I have no energy left to give to devote to that and so what the world is seeing is the full force of the inner thoughts I have had time and time and again for as long as I can remember.

I am not kidding when I tell you I do not remember a time when I loved myself. I do not remember a time when I believed myself to be worthy of love. I do not remember a time when I thought myself worth anything.

What I remember are times when it didn’t consume me. Thanks to medication, I’m able to go about my life and not have this become something that runs my day to day in a full force way.

Right now, is not one of those times.

And I’m not saying I’ll never go back to counseling or that I don’t think it will work for me – I’m sure that I will at some point when I’m able to. But I’m saying right now I am fucking exhausted and sick and tired of feeling like this day in and day out and I don’t want to have to go to another doctor and pay another medical bill to hear all the ways in which my thinking is distorted. I know it is. I know it’s me. I know that ‘only I can change how I respond to situations’ or whatever but my god can’t I just get a break from it every now and again?

I feel like there’s more anger coming through than anything else when in reality I’m just tired. I’m fucking angry too, but I’m just exhausted and I can barely get up in the morning let alone “look for the positives”. It’s a lot easier to say to people than it actually is to do sometimes.

Maybe it seems dramatic to some of you. Maybe it feels like I just want attention (to those who think that I say a big fuck you) but the only reason I’m even talking about it online is because this is the only thing I have the energy to do right now. I know that if I started talking about it in person I would actually lose it and scare everyone even more and I don’t want that so this is my solution. I am not physically capable of crying and breaking down in front of people in person because the shame of that feeling may actually destroy me. It’s hard enough facing people in person who’ve read this. No one has to read this. No one has to say anything but at least I can get things out of my head and put somewhere for a time. This is my temporary fix.

While I’m being honest, I just want to say that I know – I know I need help. I know I could make small changes. I know that being depressing and negative gets me no where and attracts no one – I know. But it’s all the more frustrating when the rational side of who you are knows those things and the irrational side has taken over and you can’t stop yourself from feeling or thinking a certain way. I know that the way to catch a boyfriend isn’t by telling the world how crazy I am but at the same time, do I even want someone who doesn’t know who I really I am? cuz this is it.  And it sucks even more when you know you’re letting everyone down while it happens, too.

I’m even questioning my faith which I know is upsetting like half the people in my life and would completely upset my aunt, but again – I can’t help it. How am I supposed to believe in an all powerful, healing God when I watched her faith remain strong and unyielding in every dark moment of suffering, just to watch her die in the end and not get the healing she’s promised? She spent her whole live devoted to God and what hope do I have if someone like her wasn’t able to beat cancer (or even got it in the first place).

On top of that – I just sit and think about how I have wasted SO . MUCH. TIME. Going to school for a career that literally threw me away when she was diagnosed. Spending years romanticizing a toxic relationship into something I believe resembled love when it was actually the complete opposite. Sacrificing my time and energy into all these things that just blew up in my face leaving me with nothing but time spent – all time I could have spent with my aunt.

Time I could have spent finding the right career that would have let me have balance or the right relationship that would have let me get married and have her officiate my wedding and see me walk down the aisle. Things that would let me get healthy enough to actually have a baby and have her with me in the delivery room to hold her the way she held me when I was born.

But I can’t go back. I can’t get any of that time back. And now she’s gone, and I am still alone. Still lost. Still depressed and still trying to make sense of what the hell it’s all supposed to mean. And I know that feeling this way and being this negative won’t further me to anything in the future – but I don’t even care right now. I can’t care. I have no energy left to care because it’s all spent. All of it.

I want to be the person everyone says they know I can be. But I honestly don’t know how. I appreciate everyone saying that I matter, or that I’ve left an impact on them somehow. It’s nice to hear. I think we don’t do enough of that until people are gone or hurting. We don’t tell them what they mean until it’s too late and I appreciate everyone who’s done that. I love you all so much and so deeply and I’m sorry that I’m not able to put that into words right now.

But I can’t pretend to not feel this way. I can’t pretend like I’m okay because I’m not. I can’t pretend like I want to go to a counselor because I don’t.

What I want, is to know what it feels like to be happy and not have to utilize medicine and therapy to get there for a change. What I want is to stop letting people down by feeling the way I do all the time. What I want is to sleep and wake up not feeling tired. What I want is to come home and have someone to share my life with. What I want is to have someone hug me and let me cry until I fall asleep and have that be okay.

Thanks for reading – Even when I don’t respond, I’m paying attention to what you say.

from WordPress https://rheyareads.wordpress.com/2019/04/10/cant-sleep/

[highladyofdusk]

Storytime With DeeDee #1

So I wasnt really sure what to write about but I decided to tell you guys about one of the biggest problems in my life since this is supposed to be about you guys getting to know me better.

So like two years ago I went on a school trip to Valencia and I was thinking about it since like the year before we went. During that time I was also doing Duke of Edinburgh Bronze Award and the Valencia trip was between the practice expedition and the actual expedition. If you dont know what the Duke of Edinburgh Award is then its basically a thing in Britain where youre in a group of kids your age and of the same gender and you go camping. Having never gone camping before I was well excited. So the practice expedition is when you have teachers looking after you but not helping you while in the actual expedition the teachers are like some distance behind you.

Anyways I went on the practice expedition prepared. My parents grew up in quite rural areas (AKA the countryside) so they knew what they were doing. The hike and setting up was fun. We had dinner and then we had a campfire where we made smores which are really good. So it was finally time to go to bed and thats when the problems started.

I was all for going to sleep at a reasonable time as to have enough energy the next morning because we were doing another hike. So I shared the tent with two of my friends, one of who bailed on us to go to sleep in a different tent. I have trouble falling asleep in a new place. It takes me a couple of nights to go to sleep in a different place even if its in a different room in my house or like when I go over to sleep at my dads where Ive slept for like 3 years. My remaining friend was all for going to run around and explore during the night with the others. So we went to a bigger tent and ate a lot of sweets with our friends until I started feeling really tired so I went back to my tent. Also this tent had no locks and was outside with the badgers and foxes which we were warned about so that made me anxious as I always have to check the doors are locked at home before I go to sleep. This was around 11pm so I tossed and turned in the incredibly uncomfortable sleeping bag until I started feeling slightly sick. Being reasonable I thought that I was either hungry or really needed the toilet because my stomach was hurting. So I had some bread and went to the toilet where I threw up said bread. I just thought that I ate something funny because I wasnt sure about the pot noodle I ate for dinner but I was hungry. So I made a couple trips from the tent to the toilet where I had my first encounter with a badger which turned into a staring contest before it ran away (honestly I have like a sixth sense or something because I turned off my torch as to not wake anyone and sensed that something was there) before I decided to do the reasonable thing and call my mum. This was at 4am so keep in mind that I sat sobbing in my tent for 4ish hours before I decided to call my mum because food poisoning usually goes away after 2 hours for me so I was worried. My mum advised me to drink water and wait till someone showed up. I only got about half an hour of sleep that night because I just collapsed on my backpack from sheer exhaustion because after the hike and throwing up I was drained. My mum checked up on me every so often and once I woke up at 6am I saw that the camping experts or something had shown up so I went over to them and they sat me down on a chair, got my friend to collect my stuff, gave me water and went to fetch a teacher as I am socially awkward and cant wake people up without getting anxious. So the teacher came and called my mum. My mum got my dad to pick me up and I was home by 10am. I had a shower since there were no showers at the campsite, had some tea and slept till 3pm. My mum saw that I looked better and decided that it was food poisoning or that we cooked something wrong.

Then came Valencia, something that I was really excited about because England does not have the weather to go into the sea. I love going to warm countries and sitting on the beach or in the sea. And of course my period decided to start on the day of the trip which really annoyed me as I have long periods and the trip was only four days. So I went to school and we got on the plane and we were off. We arrived quite late and had some burgers for dinner before going to our rooms. We stayed at a university and the rooms were absolutely shit but I shared a room with two of my friends. So we unpacked, showered and went to sleep. Or they did. I was having that issue again and couldnt fall asleep. Then the throwing up began. I was fine during the days except that my period was heavier than usual and during Spanish lessons when I would sit in the toilet for most of the lesson. As long as I was enjoying myself and kept myself busy (like the time we went to a museum and I spent the time looking at cute chicks (like baby chickens) and dinosaur fossils) I felt normal. Then when night came I started feeling sick. It got to the point where I refused to eat because I found it pointless if I was going to throw up again. One of the teachers had a room next to mine and kept 'blackmailing' me. Like she kept saying that she would take me to the doctor and have my parents pay for it (I have free health care in the EU) or that she would send me back home if I would shut up and make my parents pay for the ticket back (when I told her that there were no flights she said that she would just send me to Poland (which is where I was born) since she knew I had family there) and what was worse was that she denied ever saying any of that once my mum complained to the school and nearly got me kicked out of school. So when we got back I was traumatised. I lost so much weight that I wouldnt fit into my old clothes anymore. My pants, unless they were like leggings, would fall right off (I gained the weight back dont worry). I refused to eat and I would keep throwing up and the only thing that would calm me down was this calming herbal tea. I would spend half an hour sat in the toilet crying until my mum decided that I needed to go to the doctor to at least try to fix my physical problems while giving me time off school to deal with the trauma caused by that trip. So I got medicine and was diagnosed with a nervous stomach which while it cant really be classified as an official medical condition I will still call it that.

"Having a nervous stomach could have to do with your emotional state or mental health, your digestive or gut health, or even a mixture of both. Rarely, it may signal something more serious going on. Nervous stomach can also just be how your digestive system works naturally during times of stress. As well, it could be just an isolated experience."

This is something I got from a health website on google. I believe my case of a nervous stomach which I now say is that my stomach has anxiety as a joke to deal with the trauma came from my emotional state or mental health.

So I got back to school while I was on medication and I started acting more like myself. So I went to see the teacher who organised the DofE (Duke of Edinburgh) and told him that I couldnt go on the expedition because I was on medication and had a 'medical condition'. He was fine with it but my Head of Year (teacher who was in charge of my year group) wasnt. She was helping that teacher organise the whole thing and took me out of lesson twice, once before the expedition because I hadnt been attending the meetings and the second time was on the day of the expedition. The first time she was calling me a liar and said that I was faking it for attention and that I wasnt on medication neither did I have a medical condition (when this is clearly something that could have been caused by my mental health) and that I needed to start getting involved because they paid for everything (literally my parents paid for all my equipment) and that she would ban me from ALL other trips no matter if they were trips to a park or residentials (over night trips) which was fucked up because I have a 'medical condition' that may have been caused by my mental health being not okay (cant find a better word) and mental health is something they are trying to improve in my school. The second time she was accusing me of not telling the teacher that I wasnt going on the expedition and when I tried to explain she would cut me off and start acting like a cheeky bratty teenager constantly saying "No" whenever I tried to say something. She forced me to go see the teacher because he was waiting for me downstairs but I was then told that they had left AN HOUR AGO. Like WTF?

Now my 'medical condition' hasnt popped up anymore apart from when I went to an award ceremomy coz I got nominated tor Young Person of the Year (which I got) but it wasnt as severe. So it hasnt gone away so we havent risked letting me go to sleepovers ot overnight trips. Anyways I have a nervous stomach and its currently wanting chocolate which means that we agree on something for once so this is DeeDee signing off!