#emotional bandwidth

[karrenseely]

Emotional Regulation

So I have CPTSD. Everything I've read mostly points to this being a lifelong condition (yay :P) that is incredibly difficult for all of us whom suffer from it. I know it has been for me. I honestly don't know if I'd have developed it if my parents had been loving, supportive, and understanding like they should have. Because, even if they had been, I would still have likely had many many years of gas lighting from society, them, and my extended family to be a gender other than what I was. And that takes its toll on anyone's psyche.

But who knows, maybe if they'd been really supportive, then I wouldn't have had years of thinking I was crazy or shameful, maybe I would have transitioned really young as soon as I could tell them they were wrong. Then all I'd have to deal with is some body dysphoria. But then even that can take its toll as well. So I really couldn't say if I was destined to have this incredibly difficult mental health condition or not.

Either way, I really wish I'd had the loving supportive family every child deserves. I really wish I didn't find my psyche shattering as I grew up, getting stuck repeatedly at every traumatic event that I can remember, and actively forgetting everything I couldn't along with most of my other memories. Such that now, my memories consist of shattered disorganized shards scattered over the floor, most of those shards long since missing. It's really difficult to live when all you really have is now.

People talk about their childhoods like there's this linear well established timeline in their memories. It was a long time before I realized this was the typical way people remember their past. That for most people, they can remember approximately when such a memory occurred, in sequence with another. Even now, this is so foreign to me. I remember things in disjointed pieces, any one memory is not connected to any other. And few, if any, are connected to a specific time that I can locate.

Then there is the ability to remember what you did yesterday, or last week, or even last month in day to day life. That it's hard to know what's happened and what's been done recently. This was particularly bad when I was dissociating all the time, fortunately, therapy has helped with that part, and I don't do it as much and I can remember more of my day to day life. But even now, there are still significant holes in my memories of adult life. And admittedly as I struggle through my current flare of CPTSD symptoms, I sometimes wish I could dissociate like I used to so that I don't have to feel all of this horrible stuff. It hurts like hell.

If someone created the universe, they must be one of the most sadistic assholes to have ever existed, making it so healing is so effing painful, much less making thinking feeling beings feed off of one another.

In this journey of trying to heal, I've encountered many people talking about how, when we were abused as children we didn't develop our emotional regulation skills like normal loved, unabused kids do. I always found these comments or suppositions confusing. In large part due to the fact that I don't really understand what emotional regulation means. As a child, trying to survive, the only thing that worked, that made things even remotely bearable was dampening down on emotions until I didn't feel hardly anything at all. I wasn't particularly good at this, I still had feelings but they were distorted hazy half hearted things that would escape out, usually as anger, irritability, sadness, often fear, sometimes even joy would get out. But none were fully formed, or fully embraced, because if I did, then the pain would be in full force, the shame, the horror I constantly felt at what I was going through. So I did my best to damp down my emotions to almost nothing, and dissociate as much as I could so that I didn't have to feel or atleast remember feeling all those horrible things I felt. And the plus side to dissociation is that you truly only live in the moment. You can forget so much that way. You can ride the bus to school, but not remember any of it, just one moment you're at home and the next, poof, you're at school, and the next, poof, it's time to go home again and get on the bus, and poof the next you're at home again... you get the idea.

Emotions when all of the above were unsuccessful and I felt them anyway, usually it was the really really bad ones. And they were felt at 120% full blast. It was either 10 mph, or 120 mph. No inbetween. But people who talk about the ability to regulate emotions describe it as having inbetweens. Not having to feel the full blast, but not suppressing it completely either.

For the longest time when I encountered that phrase around emotional regulation, my mind just skittered past it, as it didn't make any sense to me. But I found myself thinking about it a couple months ago. And some kind fellow people with CPTSD pointed me to links that helped to explain the concept... except, those links were mostly just confusing. And unfortunately, my brain interpreted them as, "you are deficient, you're inability to regulate is your fault." Which didn't help. I honestly don't know if those explanations actually implied that, but it's what it felt like. Maybe because I didn't understand what they were saying.

Then... recently I returned to work, full time. And an interesting, if sucky, thing happened. I was fine at work, I could joke, I could laugh and have fun with coworkers and feel empathy for my patients and basically function somewhat like a typical human being in what I imagine is a healthy fashion. But as soon as I left work and went home, I had no energy left to keep the intrusive memories and emotions in check. And I would immediately start to crash. Spiraling down the rabbit hole of all those horrible memories. Nothing had specifically triggered them, it's just I ran out of spoons and they took over. I'd used up all my spoons at work.

Obviously, I'd overestimated my ability to return to full time work, but also it felt like there was an insight here. And it came down to my emotional bandwidth. If I had enough emotional energy, enough spoons, then minor triggers that normally would have lead me back down that lovely negative spiral, wouldn't actually set me off, and I could continue to function. And this was the neat part, I could continue to function without having all my walls slam down and turn everything numb. But, if I run out of that energy, if I run out of those spoons, then any little thing can set me down that self destructive spiral.

And the more I've thought about this, the more I think this is what people mean when they talk about emotional regulation. That most people have a large fount of this emotional energy to buffer against the extremes. And thus can handle day to day joys, stresses and hurtful things without completely falling apart. If this is the case then I guess I've developed some emotional regulation after all, though it's limited.

But why is it so limited? Why didn't I have any before? And the more I look at it. I see it in terms of bandwidth, energy, and/or spoons. Before, when I was having to live in survival mode, all of my emotional energy was being used to just survive. I was constantly in fight or flight. There was no energy to spare for nuance. My bandwidth was incredibly limited because so much of it was taken up with just surviving from one day to the next, with constant vigilance. But when we are no longer in those situations, and just as importantly, when we are not constantly flashing back to those situations, we start to have that bandwidth become available for the nuance. We can start feeling things in between because we have the energy to do so. It's no longer entirely about survive or die.

And that's the worst part about flashbacks. Even though I'm no longer in that constant life or death situation, those flashbacks have me believing I am. And contrary to popular media's depiction of flashbacks, most of the time it's not getting stuck in a living visual memory of an event. No, the vast majority of those flashbacks are emotional flashbacks. Getting stuck in the feelings of the event, the feelings I couldn't suppress anymore, the constant feeling of being in danger, of having my life, my very existence threatened, which brings on the constant sense of danger, of fight or flight. Which means, no emotional energy for anything else, except the extremes. Everything in my life currently can be perfectly fine, safe, wonderful even. But if I'm stuck in an emotional flashback, none of the current circumstances matter, because I'm emotionally back in survival mode, feeling constantly threatened, trying to survive, trying to decide if I need to fight or run. And if I'm stuck there... then there isn't any emotional energy left for anything else.

The really effing sucky part, is that often I don't know I'm in an emotional flashback until after it's gone away, and I can see looking back that how I was feeling didn't fit at all with what was actually happening at the time. I reacted to an outside observer in a rather extreme, or worse in a completely irrational manner. But then when I'm in the middle of it, I guess it's understandable that I have a hard time recognizing it, as all my energy is directed towards surviving, towards keeping the pain and my fears at bay.

So maybe emotional regulation is just having enough emotional energy to filter the experiences you're having into a much more nuanced pattern, rather than having to sort things into binary extremes of bad, not bad. And if that's the case, then maybe, just maybe, I am healing, because I'm starting to free up some of my bandwidth to start sorting out the nuances... even if I can't quite identify what those nuances are yet.

[mollyfamous]

I really prefer to discuss my mental and emotional energy levels as "bandwidth" instead of "spoons." Bandwidth just seems more... intuitively comparable to me. Like when I can't think because my brain is too noisy and chaotic, it uses up a lot of bandwidth , so "I don't have the bandwidth," to deal with a lot of things. When I can't think because I'm too tired/exhausted/spent, I've used up all my mental bandwidth allotment for the time being, so again, "I don't have the bandwidth." When I'm anxious, or upset, or frantic or having an easily frustrated day, my emotional bandwidth feels bottlenecked. When I'm worn out from feeling too much, I've used up my emotional bandwidth.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

love thinking kipperlilly spends her afterlife looking for lucy in a familiar forest

[loquaciousquark]

Beloved mutuals, I come on bended knee to beg for tags on two things:

when you put DAV spoilers in your tags on otherwise non-DAV-related posts (ESPECIALLY for anything related to romances)

anything related to politics, the Deteriorating State of America, Luigi Mangione et al, systemic social justice or injustice, etc.

I really, really don't want to unfollow anyone as I love you all, but I literally cannot emotionally bear the anger or despair that comes with many of the politics posts on my dash right now, and I am choosing to disengage with it here on tumblr so that I still have somewhere I can go to enjoy myself.

Likewise, I really want to go into DAV unspoiled, and for as many words as I've added to my filters, they don't work if the post doesn't have some kind of proper Veilguard tag appended. I've been spoiled three times in the last few days for both specific romance events and with mood spoilers of certain other romances, and I very much want to not see that kind of thing yet. I didn't even want to learn the companions' names ahead of time, though that's obviously been unavoidable.

Thank you!

[mcmeasle]

can we just talk about the only thing cat knowing how to say in French is “do you want to sleep/have sex with me?” and our poor disaster bisexual boy just had to roll with it

[muzsmocsing]

Earth Master Ming Yi. THE Shi Qingxuan asks you if you are best friends. How do you plead?

✅ Our matching Claire's BFF necklaces never lie.

✅ You are the Barbie to my Ken.

✅ I am deeply in love with you Yes.

⛔ "Who's your best friend? I've never been."

[cctinsleybaxter]

i 'ship' yossarian and milo in exactly the same way one would ship ripley and the xenomorph where i'm like 'stay the fuck away from her!!!" but i'm also like hang on. what is happening right now.

[trying-to-jew]

How do I explain to my friend that they’re reblogging antisemitic rhetoric without ending the friendship?

[pixeldinostorytelling]

wolf 359 finale is a christmas movie. to me.

[sucresanguine]

The biggest problem with the male loneliness epidemic rhetoric is that people have forgotten that it was originally about men lacking support in male friendships. Then the manoshphere fuckfest got ahold of it and determined that duh, the only important relationships men can have are sexual, and all real men are straight, so clearly this is about men needing women to fix them. And then everyone just fuckin agreed to that dogshit definition. It's the polar opposite issue, and I think it serves in some part to take away from just how much can be learned from the community I've seen queer men hold for one another

[themoonunderstoodmydadjokes]

It is Sunday night and I do not wanna go to work tommmmoooooorrroooowwww ✨✨✨✨

[xappetites]

idk why i keep thinking that Frank Woods would have a ranch somewhere? like there’s no animals or anything it’s just land and a comfortable little house dead in the middle of it

so of course he tells himself that it’s logical that afab Bell shows up at his doorstep like a beaten dog two months after the last time he saw her in Solovetsky, with less than ideally healed gunshot wounds from her second assassination attempt. Of course, it’s just that here’s a lot less likely that anyone would find her

And he takes her in, because it might’ve been fake for Adler but she’s fucking tore through hell right at Frank’s side with ample opportunity to either kill him herself or just let him get turned into mincemeat by the reds. She’s ended up under him more than once too, shaking and clumsy and laughing against his mouth in the residual adrenaline rush. More chances to off him, or to try and leverage his attraction to her, that she didn’t take. That Frank’s now convinced she wouldn’t take, not because she isn’t capable of it, she just likes sex too much to use it as a weapon.

She likes Frank too much for it, he realizes in the couple days it takes for her to stop looking over her shoulder with every creaking floorboard. When she asks him to drive her into town to exchange the small fortune in Swiss francs she smuggled into the country all the way from Zurich. He can’t fucking help it, the question that stumbles out of him without more than a second’s thought: ‘Why didn’t you go back to Perseus?’

Bell shifts, looks from Frank to the copy of John Hersey’s Hiroshima he’d given to her after a comment on nuclear armament even he thought was tasteless, the same book he caught her crying over months later and now sits in her bag, half buried in foreign bills.

‘I couldn’t,’ she says, then a minute later, as if it just occurred to her, ‘he’d kill me anyway, after Solovetsky’.

It takes a few more weeks for her to end up in his bed again, and she still smiles as soon as he nudges his dick inside her, still laughs at the burn of his beard on her neck. She still comes clutching onto him like he’ll disappear or leave, discard her as soon as he fills her. Bell mumbles out his name and Frank feels his heart caught between her fingers as much as his hair is at the moment, because for her that’s the most reasonable fear to have.

So he doesn’t. It’s not like he was gonna leave his own fucking house, which in a way feels like the only thing he’s ever really owned, but he won’t kick her out either. And he doesn’t mention her to a single soul who knows her, not even Mason. Especially not when she starts going out, more fearless each time; when she starts to teach a self defense class in town on Fridays or taking drives to the next county over whenever she has a nightmare, just to convince herself that she’s not in a fake town, and she comes back with a cheeseburger for him each time.

Cause then she starts to become his Bell again. The one capable of dead devotion, who chose to do the right thing in the end. The Bell that died twice and came back better every time, that saw an old worn fuck like him and called it home.

Bell, who he accidentally wakes one night when he comes sweating out of his own bad dreams and offers to join him for a cigarette out in the front porch, who convinces him to put on a sweater and settles on his lap in silence, blowing little smoke rings into the gold light of dawn.

The woman who cries against his shoulder when he lets spill that he loves her like horrible word vomit, and tells him she loves him too.

[brodinsons]

fondly remembering ye olde days of lj where you could politely browse whatever community focused on your current hyperfixation you had joined and find people polling for fellow roleplayers

is there something like that here? better yet, is there a mutual/anyone following me game for some casual alien robot banter so i don't have to expose my soft brainmeat to a complete stranger?

[bellysoupset]

"Penny for your thoughts?" Luke asked, falling on the bed next to Bella. She didn't look up from her phone, but opened a small smile as she felt her husband squeeze her calf and press a kiss to her naked thigh.

"Wendy isn't answering," she said and Luke stopped kneading on her leg as if he was a cat, raising his eyebrows.

"Uhm-"

"We've been back for two days now. I've texted, I've called... They should be back from Doveport by now, no?" Bella looked away from her phone and Luke nodded, cringing.

He hadn't been texting Vince, out of sheer heartbreak, and now he regretted it, "I could call Vin...?"

"No," Bella shook her head, sitting up straight on the bed, "I'm calling Jon. Maybe Wendy just doesn't wanna talk with me."

"Why wouldn't she?" Luke frowned, noticing the slight waver to Bell's voice. Wendy was clearly very important to her, a development he hadn't predicted and that he wasn't entirely sure when it had happened, but she was.

"I don't know, but something... Something isn't right," Bella decided, getting up from the bed and pacing the bedroom, holding the phone to her ear.

He watched as she chewed on her nails, waiting for Jon to pick up and the way her voice went up a note as he did so, nerves clearly fried from overthinking.

"And she hasn't answered any of your texts either?" Bella said, walking straight to the wardrobe. She pulled out her leggings, squeezing the phone between her cheek and shoulder as she put the pants on, "I'm worried Jon, I'm going over to her place... Yeah, no, I know she's probably still down in Doveport with Vin, but I just- I'll let you know," Bell agreed, gesturing for Lucas to get her snow boots, "yeah, I'll text if she's there... Or if I need help- I'm taking Luke as well-"

Lucas raised his eyebrows, he wasn't aware he'd be going anywhere, but clearly Bell had made up her mind without telling him.

"Alright, bye, love you," Bella said it all in one breath, hanging up and planting her hands on her waist, "get dressed, we're going to Wen's building."

"What did Jonah say?" Lucas asked, obeying without questioning. Bella looked worried and he didn't like it one bit.

"She hasn't answered any of his texts either, since Christmas."

"Well, it's only the twenty nine..." Luke said, throwing Bell her scarf and putting on his socks, "I'm sure everything is fine, baby. They're probably still in Doveport-"

"Uhum," Bella hummed, clearly not buying his reassurances, planting a beanie over her wild curls, "I'm gonna try calling her again."

It was to no avail, so they were in the car not ten minutes later and it was another fifteen before they stopped in front of Wendy's building. Unlike Jonah's, Wen's building only required a password to get inside the building, something Luke thought was terribly unsafe as he followed Bell inside.

She was bouncing on her feet on the elevator ride and he placed a hand over his wife's shoulder, "breathe, baby."

"Stay in the hallway," Bell answered, instead, continuing to nibble on her thumb, ready to draw blood.

For a moment, as Bella knocked on Wendy's door loudly, Luke was convinced the other woman wasn't home. It was the best case scenario, that Vin and Wendy were still down in Doveport, having the time of their lives and they were worrying for nothing-

And then the door opened and Lucas cringed, seeing Bella visibly flinch at the sight.

Wendy was wearing sweatpants and a big sweater from Penn University, her brown hair lying limply around her face and it looked like she hadn't slept in days. Her face was milky white and she was a mess.

"What?"

"I- You're home!" Bella's voice cracked, unsure of how to approach this, "and you're not picking up your phone and I'm worried and- Well, you look terrible, Wen-"

Wendy raised her eyebrows at that, arms crossed to her chest, "maybe I'm not picking up my phone because I want to be alone, has that crossed your mind?"

Bella and Luke were both taken back by the sharp tone, but while Luke was reeling, Bell recovered faster.

Her voice dropped, "Wen, what's going on?"

"Vince dumped me, what do you think happened?" Wendy leaned against the threshold of her house, still refusing to let them inside, "don't bother faking the surprise, you all knew already. I know you knew-"

"Vince dumped- What!?" Bella cut her off, confused, "no, he didn't, he wouldn't-"

Luke cringed at Bella's denial, catching Wendy's bloodshot gaze. Clearly she had been going through the ringer and all by herself. He was familiar with that feeling, specially when it was a direct consequence of loving Vince, which felt very unfair to even think of his best friend... but was also the truth.

"So apparently my boyfriend, forgive me, my ex-boyfriend wants to move back with mom and dad," Wendy's voice was terribly cold, "and he gave me a super sweet ultimatum at Christmas. Move with him or get dumped."

"That doesn't- What the fuck, Wendy?" Bella recovered from her denial, "are you okay? Why didn't you say anything, Wen?" she stepped closer, all well meaning and Lucas stuffed his hands on his pockets, standing across the hall as he correctly predicted Wendy jumping back and out of Bell's hug.

"You knew," Wendy's voice was dripping venom, "so spare me the sentimentality-"

"Knew? I didn't know-" Bella shook her head, misinterpreting Wendy's words, confused.

"You absolutely knew!" Wendy exclaimed, "you knew, because you-" she pointed at Luke, who flinched as he caught her bloodshot, heartbroken eyes, "you knew. Of course he told you, he tells you everything. And Jonah knew and Leo fucking knew- Do you have any idea how utterly humiliating was to find out Vince was ready to leave me, while I was in his parents house, and that everyone knew but me? Everyone, every single one of my friends and you guys still let me-"

"Wendy, I didn't-" Bella shook her head, frantically, "I didn't know that. I knew- I knew what Luke told me, that Vince was thinking of moving, that's all. I swear, that's all we knew and that-"

"You could have told me," Wendy scoffed, her voice wavering and breaking, "you should have told me."

"I swear I didn't know," Bella's voice got all squeezy, trying to push past the lump in her throat, "I swear, Wen, I didn't- I didn't think he'd-"

"Dump me?" Wendy said sourly, "well, he did."

There was a second of heavy silence, Wendy's chest heaving as she panted for air as if she had just ran a marathon and Bella too stunned to say anything...

"Come here," Bella scoffed, stepping closer and fighting Wendy off when the shorter girl tried to push her away, "stop, stop- Stop fighting me, let me fucking hug you!"

"I don't want a fucking hug-" Wendy's voice came out muffled, as she was fully wrapped into Bell's arms... And then the sobs followed. Big, horrible sobs as she melted into the hug and wrapped her arms around the ginger's waist, "I just- I just can't believe he'd-"

"Shhhh..." Bella squeezed her a little tighter, gesturing over her shoulder for Luke to leave. While this was an emergency, it wasn't the type of issue he could be any help on.

She didn't wait to see if her husband had gotten the memo or not, pulling them inside the room and shutting the door behind them, rubbing Wendy's back up and down as the sobs continued to wreck her.

The place was a mess, like a tornado had gone through it. Bella could easily tell Wendy had spent the previous days curled up in the couch and sobbing, the bottles of wine and the bunch of tissuesthat never made it to the overly full trashcan evidence enough.

They fell sat on it and Wendy didn't let go. For all the anger and attitude she was sporting a minute earlier, the sadness was twice as big.

"I just... I don't get it," Wendy whispered, after a handful of minutes had passed. She was curled up on Bell's side, still shaking with silent sobs, "we are- We were happy. Hell, I was so sure he was going to move in with me and then-" she sniffled, wiping angrily at a new batch of tears, "I feel like an idiot."

"You're not an idiot," Bella squeezed her arm, combing her fingers through Wendy's greasy hair, "you're not crazy either. I thought it too, everyone did, that's why- That's why I didn't tell you, Wen. Yeah, I should have, but it was Vin's business and I didn't think, even for a second, he was going to break your heart, otherwise I'd have said something."

"Would you?" Wendy looked up, all pitiful and green eyes welled up with tears, "I don't... I kept thinking of the fact you knew and Jon knew and none of you- I thought I was - I am so. lonely."

"Please don't say that," Bella's voice broke and she moved on the couch, cupping Wendy's face, "hey, look at me. You're not alone, okay? You're not- Don't say that. You have us, you have me- I'm sorry I didn't-"

Wendy nodded, holding a hand in front of her mouth as new tears sprung up and shaking her head as if to shut up her friend. She grabbed a tissue, blowing her nose - which was red and irritated from doing it so many times - and hugged her knees, curling up on a tiny ball.

"He didn't... He didn't break up with me," she said in a little voice, refusing to look at Bella, "well, he did. But he didn't."

Bella frowned, scooting even closer and planting a hand on Wendy's back, "what do you mean?"

"Well, he hid it from me, for starters. And lied, because I asked - Fuck, I asked so many times if something was wrong in the past weeks, when he was looking terrible," Wendy let out a bitter chuckle, deepening her voice to mimic Vin, "no, honey, it's just stress over graduating," she scoffed, "and then he didn't even have the decency of telling me. I had to find it out- He asked me to move there with him."

Bell reeled back, confused, "I don't understand... Then why-"

"He was so fucking- As if I was going to set foot in a fucking conservative town, with a worse residency than the one I have here, just to follow him? As if I haven't spent the last ten years of my life building a life for myself that doesn't make me wanna jump of a bridge?" Wendy shook her head, picking angrily at her nails, "for a man?"

"A man you love," Bella pointed out gently and Wendy glared at her, continuing to pick at her cuticles, some of her fingers already bloodied by all the picking.

"Doesn't matter," she shook her head vehemently, "I'm not moving to some hellscape little town for a guy who doesn't even- Who doesn't even love me," the last part was said in a small strangled tone and Wendy buried her face in her arms, wrapped around her knees, shoulders shaking as she started to cry again.

"Wen, baby, I don't think-" Bella pulled her into a one sided hug, "I know he was an idiot, I know, and you're right he hid things and lied, but I don't think he doesn't love you, Wendy. Vince lights up when you're around-"

"Shut up," Wendy's sobbed, "please stop."

Bella snapped her mouth shut, rubbing her friend's back and trying to figure what to do. She didn't think, even for a second that Vince didn't love Wendy. Clearly he was an idiot, but she had seen the way he looked at the other woman, as if she had invented the lamp. Those dumb, boyish smiles that only a man who's head over heels can produce.

However, Wendy wasn't dumb and Bell had no delusion that she was. If she didn't want to hear it, then she didn't want to hear it.

"What do you need?" Bella pressed a kiss to her friend's head, squeezing her closer, "talk with me, Wen."

"I need-" Wendy sniffled, voice thick with tears, "I need you to have my back and not let me ruin my life because I'm in love with him- I need you to be on my corner, because- Because I'm really not and it's breaking my heart to try and be-be mature and ra-rational... I need you to tell me I'm doing the right thing, Bella, because if I give in I'm going to be unhappy, but that's all I wanna do right now."

Finally making some sense of the situation, Bella nodded, pulling Wendy into a tight hug, "hey," she cupped Wendy's face, "if it's meant to be, it's going to be, okay? I'm not gonna let you ruin your life."

Wendy nodded, whole face scrunching up as she fought a sob and threw herself on Bella, "it really feels like I am, right now."

[numberonemisandrist]

America in the 60s after getting a Government Sponsored <3 lobotomy

[incomingalbatross]

Looking at my upcoming commuting time for the fall semester, and would be interested in anyone's recommendations for

Interesting nonfiction audiobooks (I can't think of any specific topics, unfortunately)

Talkshow-style/educational podcasts (again, no specific topics—I just want something interesting enough to listen to but not so engrossing that I'll have trouble switching gears when I get out of the car)

Music, esp. classical (I am Tired of my five playlists and six albums, generally, and also I want to be more familiar with the musical greats)

If anything jumps to mind, I'd love to hear it!