#ghost has fibro

[dark-is-d3ad]

More fibro!Ghost because it hurts af, and I'm in for that infusion thingy literally right now, a month ahead of what it was supposed to be. So, I'm not suffering alone, i'm taking the guys on the ride. Christmas with Soap's family, some fluff, and caring Soap included in the pack.

~~~

• The leave is unexpected but still nice, and when Johnny offers to tag along with him on his trip to Glasgow, Ghost agrees, because why not? As if he's got something else to do. Soap promises all sorts of good things except for bourbon ("they'll be offended, and ye have ta try some proper Scotch at least once"), and also that means they'll get some time together. Ghost's sold.

• He's been doing just fine lately, despite last three weeks being full of missions. Hadn't had any problems at all, even though there wasn't much rest between them. It's a bit too good to be true, but who is he to complain about it? His next infusion is scheduled for mid January, and while the month before one is usually the worst because the effect from the previous one starts to wear off, this time he apparently has it good. Unbelievably good.

• Soap's family is big, and loud, and overwhelmingly funny, they roast each other a lot, and all of them got some sick burns, especially his dad. Ghost secretly loves it.

• They're also suprisingly understanding about his balaclava. There is only one question: is he comfortable with it? He nods, and then no one bats an eye, they're so freaking normal about it, as if he's not wearing one at all. After all this time it's refreshing.

• Soap, apparently, doesn't shut up about him at home. They all think he's some badass cool guy, and he fucking blushes, and oh it's so good to have the mask, saves him the embarrassment. He's really not used to this, it's just his job, after all.

• Ghost gets back at him, too, tells them some cool stories about Soap and his demolition work, how he's the smartest guy in the team, and how Johnny saved his ass in a couple of very hairy situations. He finds it really funny when Soap's in his shoes now, mumbling something along the lines of "oh it's just work."

• They go to the gym together early in the mornings, they also go for chilly morning runs every other day, and it's so enjoyable. Sometimes Soap's dad goes with them, too. Scotland is beautiful, hills, and rocks, and fog; Johhny huffs slightly when he runs up the hills, and Ghost feels so light, his legs bouncing softly off the road. The runner euphoria hits him here much more often than it usually does.

• They don't really share a bed, both deemed it too much for a family visit, but they do hang out at Johnny's room until wee hours, and then Ghost sneaks back to the guest room, heart pounding.

• Johnny's nephews are adorable. Ghost teaches them basic survival skills and quickly wins their sympathy. "They're little menaces, Si, why would ye teach them how to start a fire with next to nothing on hand?! I dinnae tell'em for a reason!" The little ones get a lecture on responsibility, and there's that. What was learnt can't be unlearnt, eh? They're finally allowed to practice in the chimney, and they're thrilled when they succeed. Ghost is put on permanent supervising duty because he caused it. He doesn't mind, for a grown-up he's having way too much fun with little pyromaniacs. And he hasn't even shown them his favourite knife yet. That will probably have to wait, he doesn't want to be banned from the house yet. He'll teach them how to throw it one day.

• They get out in the city for a day to get some gifts. Ghost heavily relies on Johnny in this endeavour, but they manage to find something for everyone. The little ones are getting some nerf guns, there's a bunch of knitting supplies for Soap's mum, a nice bottle of scotch for his dad, and some little things for his brother and sisters. Then they split for a bit, because Johnny is hell-bent on finding "the thing", and he refuses to tell Ghost what it is.

• Ghost uses the time to take a walk and get the stupidest kinda thing: a soft cover that goes on a helmet, bright red, fluffy, with little horns on top. He never knew Johnny had a motorcycle in the first place, but that thing looks like it's his already, so he figures he'd just add it to the gift he already got him.

• Christmas is chill and homely, and the dinner is amazing. On Boxing day Ghost doesn't expect any gifts, but he gets a hand-knitted balaclava from Soap's mum, black with a white scull, very much resembling his mask. It's warm and soft, and honestly fucking cute. He also gets some drawings from the little ones, with lots of fire and all of them drawn together around him, a huge ominous figure, but the scull has a little cheeky smile drawn over it. It makes his heart ache a little. It's been years since he got gifts like that. Since... he shuts the thoughts down as quickly as he can.

Then, he gets "the thing" from Johnny, and it's a set of bed linen with hello kitty prints. And it's light pink. "You bastard," Ghost says quietly. "I like it," he adds, almost non-audibly, feeling like he confesses a sin or something. It's really funny, and he's definitely keeping it. Johnny just grins at him, putting the fluffy cover on his helmet.

~~~~

It's all fucking great, until next day Ghost has a night terror. In his dream he's tortured and buried alive again, but this time, there's not only Vernon but lots of bodies, they decay on him, there's no space, their sharp bones pierce him through, and he screams from the pain, and he's dying agonisigly slowly. His own scream wakes him up. The pain is still there, but bearable, his heart beats so fast as if it's going to jump out of his chest. And then he tries to sit up in the bed, and it goes from a 4 to a 9 in an instant. Ghost groans and falls back down on the pillows, defeated. It just had to happen now, of all times, when he's got no access to medical, no meds on him, and it's mid holidays on the other side of the country. And it was all going so good. He probably woke the whole house up with his screaming, too. "Fuck," he thinks.

It hurts as hell, his palms and wrists are the worst, they throb violently as if someone was crushing his bones with a hammer, and there's no fucking breaks. No ebb and flow, no nothing, just pure agony.

A couple minutes later Soap knocks. "Ye OK? Can I come in?"

Ghost hums a yes. "Had a nightmare," he tries to explain. It comes out a bit slurred, and Soap picks up on it immediately. He's seen him in bad flares enough times now to know what's up from the get go.

"Ye got something ye can take?"

"Nuh-uh."

"How bad is it?"

Ghost doesn't come up with an answer to that. It's hard to gauge it, it's so fucking overwhelming.

Johnny turns on small lights, but it still makes it worse. Ghost's losing it quickly, much quicker than it usually would happen, and it scares him. It's not even a ride downhill, he's freaking falling off a cliff at this point.

"Yer as pale as death," - Soap says. He climbs up on the bed and starts doing whatever is that massage of his is, but it barely touches the pain at all. It's still comforting, and Simon moves closer, and that little movement hurts, everything fucking hurts so much.

He's not gonna last through this one. A day, maybe, two at most. If it's a long one that was building up this entire month, he's absolutely fucked.

Another knock on the door. That's Soap's mum. He gets up and goes to talk with her, voice low. He's explaining something calmly, but Ghost can't make out words, and he's too busy trying to keep his composure.

She leaves.

"She's right, Si, we can try whatever meds we have here, and if that doesn't work, we gotta go get ye to the doctor."

"Y'remember I'm legally dead?" Ghost slurrs.

"Oh, fucking hell!"

Soap's mum enters the room. She's got a little tray with some meds and two cups, and a she's got a bottle of water laying on it, too.

"Too early for coffee, and I really hope ye'll sleep some more," she says. "But I got ye some milk. Get well, Simon."

"Thanks, ma," Johnny says. Ghost mumbles a "thank you, mam" too, but she just waves him off, almost offended.

"Ye get better and then ye'll get to "mam" me again. Wake me up if ye need something."

"I'll take care of it. Go to sleep, ma, love ye," - Soap takes the tray, and she leaves.

He takes a shit load of pills. Like the max safe dose he can in one go. The milk is warm and tastes nice, but drinking it all means having to sit upright for a bit, and that sucks major balls now, so he lays back down and closes his eyes. Soap's hands are back on his head, rustling his hair, but he shuffles away.

"It hurts, Johnny."

"It's ok. I'm only trying to help ye." Soap pauses.

"Ye know, that's how mum used to make it for me when I was a wee lad. The milk. Made me a cup now, too."

"It's good."

"Missed that more than I thought."

Soap still stays with him for the night.

It gets even worse by sunrise. Ghost honestly thought there was a limit to it, but it reveals him new fucking shades of suffering. He's fading in and out, sees Soap sometimes. Sometimes he's alone. At some point he really hopes he won't wake up again, because waking up hurts so much he cries in the pillow. The curtains are closed, but the thin strip of light that gets through them is searing, as if it tries to burn itself in the back of his scull. He loses track of time.

In one of this quick bits Soap helps him to get to the bathroom. He doesn't remember how he ends up in bed again. Next time he wakes up Soap's there, but he's got two more guys with him, Ghost doesn't know them. He tries to ask Johnny, but the question refuses to form. Soap still gets him.

"Doctors," he says. "A family friend and his friend. Yer OK, Si, I trust them. You can trust them too."

Ghost would have said a thing or two about trust, but he's so overwhelmed with pain he decides it can wait. And he really does need help, and Johnny's sorting his mess for him the best he can.

"We'll do what you usually get," tells him one of them slowly, making sure he follows him. "And we'll leave a note for you so your doctor knows."

Ghost nods. It doesn't take too long before an IV is set up, they double check the dose and let it run.

"We don't have all the equipment, so we'll make do with what we got, and check on you every now and again. If you feel any metallic taste in your mouth, let us know."

He nods again. Johnny doesn't let him pass out, talks to him, asks him stupid questions. At first it feels like a torture, but then the pain becomes slightly duller, and it's easier to stay awake, even though he's exhausted beyond measure.

"I really contemplated getting ye a vet to get yer meds. The stuff is heavily controlled, these guys could easily lose their licence for what they're doing," Soap tells him. "And the vet's got the same thing, so I thought we could pretend yer legally a horse, and write it off like that."

Ghost chuckles. Then he realises doing so no longer hurts. One of the guys runs him through usual checks quickly - pulse ox, blood pressure, heart rate - and leaves him be again.

"I even came up with a name and the description," Soap continues," Would ye mind to be a black bay stallion called Riley?"

Simon glares at him in response.

"The alternative was," Soap's losing it now, really, he laughs so hard he tears up, "50 rabbits in a trenchcoat. Or like about 10 dogs that needed an emergency surgery on the same fucking day."

"I'd rather be a horse," - Ghost finally manages. The IV is definitely working, from a neverending flow of pain it turned into waves that come and go, and it's so, so much better already. His brain still feels like mush, but at least he can talk again.

"Scared the shit outta me, Si," Soap confesses. "These guys are legally treating me dad for a bout of back pain, yer not gonna be on any records. Called Price, too, they needed to know what ye were on and shit."

"He's on break."

"Ye, I figured he likes ye alive. It only took a couple phone calls from him. He does wanna talk with ye when we're back."

That can't be good. He's too tired to care about it now, though.

"I wasn't gonna die from that," he retorts.

"It looked like ye were," - says Johnny way too seriously. "OK, I see yer getting better, the attitude's back, can I punch ye now?"

"How long I was out?"

"It's 31st today. Nearly two days, three if we count the first evening."

"Fuck. I'm so sorry."

He can't tell if Johnny's annoyed with him or sad, but he has a weird expression on his face.

"Yer a complete wanker, Si, sometimes I hate ye so much."

"Thank you," - Ghost says, and opens his arms for a hug. He desperately needs it, and it seems like Johnny does need one, too. After all of what Ghost had put him through. Came with him, ruined his break with his family, made him worry and find him fucking IV ketamine from nowhere. He didn't even have any of the rescue meds with him. Great job, Simon, really outdid yourself with this one.

But Johnny does hug him, and the hug doesn't hurt at all, so Ghost just pulls him on the bed and hugs him tighter, almost afraid to let go. As if something would break if he did. Johnny doesn't let go either. They stay like that, in silence, until the infusion setup starts beeping.

After he's done, they make him drink some water and tell him to rest. He really feels a lot better, the residual high from ketamine doesn't feel remotely as confusing as the brain fog was. He's still not perfectly steady on his feet, but that'll do.

He even joins the family for the New Year Eve. Mrs McTavish practically forces him under a plead on the sofa. "I can see how pale ye are even through the mask!"

He tries to apologise again for the mess he had caused, and gets scolded for the attempt by the rest of them. And Johhny adds to it, the traitor. He really loses in numbers, and under the joint assault of McTavish clan, he has to concede. Not his fault, they say, he didn't spoil anything, he's fine, and they're happy to have him.

Anyway, in the end Ghost gets a plate of festive food, and he gets to hang out a little, and to rest close to the warmth of the chimney, and when the littles come to cuddle him, he thinks that he really doesn't deserve Johnny. And all the people Johnny brings alongside him.

But Soap thinks different. Soap sees Simon falling asleep at his parents' couch, and his nephews passed out snuggling him, and thinks that's the best fucking thing that happened to him in a while. Even if that thing is a stubborn bastard of a guy that doesn't know when to take a break.

~~~

"Will ye be back for Easter?" Mum asks him.

"Dinnae. I'll try."

"Bring yer friend again if he wants. He's a good lad, and wee bairns like him."

Oh.

~~~

P.S. about the talk.

It's not a discharge yet, but Price will enforce stricter rules on him (now it's not "just tell me if you're feeling off", it's "every time it's even a little off, you tell me", which leaves him no room to cover things up), and they will account for it more when missions are planned. And he has to have rescue meds on him at all times from now on.

[thewritingsofevbrowne]

Writeblr Intro

Hello, my name is Evelynne V. Browne but usually go by Eve. I'm an aspiring author and new to the writeblr community but excited to get to know my fellow writers.

Quick about me:

Twenty-Three years of age

Canadian (eh?) 🍁

Master Procrastinator

Cancer 🦀♋

My favourite genres are... Horror, Romance, Psychological Thriller, Fantasy, and Sci-Fi. I love anything with Gothic themes really.

My favourite authors are... Shakespeare, Edgar Allan Poe, Stephen King, and Neil Gaiman.

Loves Sushi 🍣

Favourite colours: 💜💚💙🖤

The sound of rain... 🌧️

My favourite of Shakespeare's works are: Hamlet, A Midsummer's Night Dream, and Romeo and Juliet.

Coffee snob ☕

My favourite books are... Coraline, Stardust, and anything William Shakespeare has written.

Queer af

Been writing since I could hold a pencil. ✍🏻

Has always dreamt of becoming a published author.

Fibro Warrior 🦋

🌿🥦😏

Green Witch 💚

Loves Memes 👌

Spiritual Butterfly 🧿🍄

Loves animals 🐈🐮🐷🦙🐀🦥

Used to write cringey fan-fiction. (Yes I admit it, I'm the one behind the Loki X Reader series)

Anxious 🥔

Loves to play Videogames 🎮 (Skyrim, ESO: Elder Scrolls Online, Skyrim, Minecraft, Dead by Daylight. Been playing lots of Overwatch 2 lately...)

Previously known as (@lokilover1999)(@lokixreaderfanfictionseries) (Mind-Wolf) (MindWolfy)

Stuff I write:

I wrote heart-wrenching romance novels. I love to put my characters through trauma. (Just kidding... Or am I? *evil laugh*)

I love to break the rules when it comes to writing. I write some pretty f*cked up sh*t lemme tell you.

I often write about the struggles of Mental Health. Characters get revenge on their abusers. You know... Murder.

Writes about Vampires, Demons, Werewolves, Witches, Satanic Cults, fairies, and anything dark and twisted really.

You know there is going to be some kind of f*cked-up love triangle let's be real.

Anything Paranormal, Ghosts, Spirits, etc.

There will always be a gay twist. Always.

Queer Characters everywhere.

WIP's:

Too many to count...

Embers and Thorns (Editing) - 17th Century: An arranged marriage between a cruel king and princess that possesses a special power. [On Wattpad]

Love Lines (Editing) [Working Title - Trying to come up with a better title...] - A depressed vampire makes a no-su*cide pact with a nurse who supplies him blood. [On Wattpad]

The Hotel Vampyre - Sequel to 'The Victorian Vampyre'. The plot of the second novel is a secret so I'll tell you about the first novel. (1848 London, England: A young Victorian baker meets Lord Howell, a creature gifted with an unspeakable talent for magic. Her world is turned upside down when she is attacked only to wake up as a Vampire.)

I'm excited to join the writeblr community. I'm shy but I'd love to make some writing friends. I'm horrible at social media but I'm learning how to so feel free to follow me on the social medias.

[Instagram] [Wattpad] [Writing Blog] [Patreon] [Ko-Fi] [YouTube] [Spotify] [SoundCloud] [Other Tumblr] [Pinterest]

Dividers by the lovely @rosypotions

[burythecarnival]

well met, friends. apologies for my month-long absence & not being able to reblog your content hoping to help you get sales, followers etc. i look horrible here, i know but look at my tiny goth brows.

for those of you who don't know, i have scleroderma (which is a nasty connective tissue autoimmune disease that causes constant tissue growth on your internal organs as well as the fingers, toes, etc.) i also have ehlers-danlos syndrome, arthritis & fibro due to the sclero.

i was hospitalized twice this last month with severe edema & a collection of doctors do not know what is causing it. while the popular opinion is due to my sclero, i am scheduled for them to check my heart valves & vascular function. this shit is fucking PAINFUL & i have a pretty decent pain tolerance from dealing with fifteen years of chronic pain. i am living in bed. i have needed help getting up, walking outside & getting to the bathroom just to fucking pee. this has effected my mental health (which i think is valid) so, i am incredibly depressed, hopeless & have had some dark thoughts lately. i am just so tired after years of this shit.

if you have made it this far, may mara bless your sweet face. i wanted to let people know where i have been especially since i have become friendly with some of you on here.

luv, cuddles & cauldron bubbles, the ghost queen 👻

[a-whispering-echo]

Dust is blorbo, lets go-

Gender identity: UE Dust is trans male, FC Dust is trans male, Band Dust is intersex and identifies as male, heathers au Dust is ???? vaugly fem??? maybe masc?? depends

Sexuality: uhh, none i dont think? i tend to make Dust bi, while i myself identify as pan - similar i guess? im probably ace too, though i dont really care about figuring that out rn, and i definetly could see Dust as that.

Race/nationality: i like making Dust korean, because of his au. im white. most of them are skellies which doesnt apply, or if they are human or human adjacent, theyre asian, or fantasy based. band Dust is half american, but im british.

weight/body type: yeah, i do that. i like making the guy stick thin to the point he looks like hes dying. all of them i think? wait, no not all of them, but most.

physical feature: uh, dont think so? i guess scars? but i dont have as many as i give the characters.

mental: that man has autism. that man has depression. that man is paranoid. thank you. (obviously he has MORE than that, but were talking overlaps here.)

Physical: i hc Dust as having fibro, and i have some kind of chronic pain - not sure what, but ill say thats probably projection. MM! Dust is 'selectively' mute! you could say for DR, AS, the Asylum au, and possibly MM all have links to not being able to move fully, or feeling restrained. FG Dust has chronic pain from, yknow, having MOLTEN GOLD spilled into his joints, and like, i have a LOT of joint pain, lol.

allergies: none! im not allergic to anything! im diabetic and vegetarian, but i have no Dusts that are like that!

habits: uuuhhh, bed rotting? oh, potion making! i love potions, and while i dont practice alchemy like i picture him as doing, i do do spells and such like! im also inclined to divination and such, which, like - shosts are my jam. thats OBVIOUS with yknow, MM! also, UE. spray painters au Dust i guess for art? i dont do spray, but i draw! i used to do ballet -> ballet au. im not into murder, personally. thoug i like a bit of true crime? i wanted to be a forensics expert when i was a teen?

music/media: band au, full stop. MaGM Dust is goth. MM au is based of a lot of 'ghosts haunting one area and one person can see them' type things. theres the Cludo au, based on, yknow, Cludo. the whole heathers au.

animals: nah. hes the rat man. i have cats.

conclusion: lots of them, ay? probably hobbies and media i would concur from this!

you may even project all of these but some things get reused more than others... for me it's being aspec, giving the blorbos a cat, and headcanoning them as being good at singing lmao.

[maveriquemagpie]

life updates

i've been taking low doses of hawthorn tincture for the last couple weeks to see if it has an effect on my POTS. so far it feels like when i change positions my heart rate and blood pressure don't change as dramatically as they did before. no side effects.

i've also been microdosing ghost pipe tincture for PTSD symptoms. i know ghost pipe's use is controversial; however, working with it has been helpful for this (as well as in the past for pain and as first aid for a bad trip).

i had a ketamine infusion. it helped my pain so, so much. and this has allowed me to figure out what parts of my pain were the fibro, and what parts (the parts that remain) are from the EDS and arthritis.

i had a bad psychosis flare up last month, from the stress/trauma of the last several months. it was horrible and i hope it does not get that bad ever again

a guy tried to assault me and my nose was broken for a few weeks. i did not look good. my arm is still fucked up, but i can type with both hands again

the wheelchair has been amazing. i'm trying to use it more. might head to a park tomorrow on it. that's about it.

[ankoku-jin]

Me, suffering from seasonal-affective depression, fibro pain, PMS, and then having a fucking dental crown fall off a molar: wow why am I in such a shitty mood 🤔

Anyway I feel a little bit better now that I’ve stuck my crown back on (got an appt to get it fixed for realsies next week) and my ghost-period has finally started (as much as it ever does), not much I can do about the seasonal brain fuckery but 2 out of 3 ain’t bad ig

At least I’ve got more needle stabbin’ to be done, until it cools off enough to do computer stuff again

[darkanddirtyknb]

UPDATE

Hi guys! I don’t know how many people still read these. I know that Tumblr is pretty dead these days. However, I know that at least a few still do, so for those still interested, I’ll keep posting these little updates for you. I have an ultrasound coming up next week on my stomach since I’m still experiencing pretty severe nausea. I have an appointment with a new neurologist on the 19th since the last one basically ghosted me. It’s a long story but that was a really bad day--pretty much everything that could have, went wrong. I also talk with my rheumatologist on the 14th. I’m hoping to get some answers since things just seem to keep getting progressively worse. Especially my memory. I’m trying not to stress and worry over it but I’ll admit, that has proven to be a big challenge lately. My fibro-fog is not helping in this regard. I want to write but I can barely remember what I did five minutes ago. Some days, I feel like I’m losing my marbles. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t scare me sometimes. I hope you��re all doing well. Until next time, stay safe! <3

[tired-fandom-ndn]

I think nearly constantly about the consequences of Danny's accident outside of ghostifying him.

I mean. He DIED. He fucking DIED from being electrocuted and it's all fine and well that he "survived" but there is no possible way he just walked away from that? Even mild electrical injury is some bad shit, straight up electrocution is a whole other ballgame.

And I say electrocution instead of electrical injury because he fucking DIED. I cannot stop thinking about this fact.

Anyway.

(gore, severe injury, and medical shit under cut)

I'm thinking about how much it probably hurt, the searing pain of what was probably thousands of volts of electricity shooting through him and literally cooking him alive from the inside out. Maybe he had a seizure during it and caused himself even more harm, bruises and broken bones and maybe even a concussion.

Can you imagine being Sam and Tucker watching this? Hearing him scream? Smelling the electricity and the smell of burning flesh in the air? Knowing that they could do nothing about it except desperately call for help, all while blaming themselves?

In the short term, he'd almost definitely need skin grafts, on his arm at the very least if not more widespread. Maybe he even "died" during treatment, doctors desperately scrambling to restart his heart without knowing that their patient was already dead.

He probably spent months in bed, first in a hospital hooked up to a hundred machines, then in his bedroom.

In the long-term, there'd definitely be nerve damage, especially in his arm and probably throughout his entire left side. He wouldn't have been able to use his left hand for a long while and even after that, he probably never regained real feeling in it.

Ohhh, and god, the neurological damage. Electrical brain injuries are fucking BAD. I headcanon him as autistic and adhd already, but I bet the brain damage from the accident caused some issues. I'm thinking seizures at the least, maybe alexia/acquired dyslexia and other language processing and verbalization issues, probably some form of apraxia affecting his ability to form sounds and make precise limb movements.

Again, I headcanon him as already being prone to chronic pain because I project onto characters and they all have to have fibro and arthritis for me to be happy, but the physical damage from the accident and the horrible mental stress would make that pain a million times worse.

I really like the idea of Danny using mobility aids after he recovers as best he can and isn't bedbound anymore. I'm thinking a cane on days he can walk, with spikes wrapped around it after one too many people tried to grab it, and a very customized electric wheelchair when he can't. I also really want him to have Cujo as a service dog, but I cannot imagine how that could happen pre-reveal lmao. Unless it's a non-ghost au? Hmm. Things to consider.

Anyway this has been my Danny Phantom medical trauma whump post, thank you all for coming.

[rosesisupposes]

This Ghost/Nebula definitely sounds like an intriguing figure... Tell me more?

Dearest wife, genius writer, Server Mom of Many Fae-Seeking Gremlins, of course @potestessemagishomosexualitatis

~~~~~~

From the DREAM index as of December 2018

D.R.E.A.M. Index #337403

Classification: M.1.ii [Primary Tier Neutral, Acquired Powers]

Name: Ghost/Nebula

Status: ACTIVE

Civilian Name: [CLEARANCE: CONFIDENTIAL] Lulu Ador

Affiliation: Neutral

///////// H.A.T.C.H. Status: Blackout Only

Partners/Sidekicks: DI#337471 - The Queen; DI#337402 - Lovely Darling

Primary Foes: DI#337402 - Lovely Darling

Powers: Shadow Teleportation; Psionic Construction [Star Sprites]

/////////As Ghost, can travel through any shadow to any other; As Nebula, can summon star-sprites who are directed by her thoughts

Costume: Tailored suit in a galaxy print and bow tie with a matching mask

Age: 27

Height: 5’7

Pronouns: She/Her

H.E.A.R.T.S. Class ‘10

Note: Valedictorian of her class, on similar caliber to DI#337255 - Doctor Vectorious. Ghost appears to be almost like possession, while Nebula is the 'true' form. When as Nebula, she is a hero, albeit one frustrated with the overly-physical nature of typical heroing due to her fibro. Classified as neutral because any given day she may be one or the other

~~~~~~

Another fascinating case, one that still lacks a full explanation. We’re not sure if this is a case of a dissociation disorder (in the form of DID or dissociative fugues), a power with a mind of its own (which would be hitherto unheard of), or just a case of woman running an elaborate con on us all.

Our note in the Index is accurate as far as we are able to establish. Ghost/Nebula (CN: Lulu Ador) appears to be two separate personalities and sets of powers within one body. But, she has not (Cannot? Will not?) confirmed if she is, in fact, unaware of the actions and decisions of one while the other is in ‘control.’

From inquiries conducted by our fact-finding team, her powers’ origins are unknown but first emerged at the same time as first reports of ‘dissociative episodes.’ There is no discernible pattern for predicting whether Ghost or Nebula will be present on any given day (or at any given hour). Those closest to her who might be able to speak in more detail have also remained elusively vague. [Editor’s note: this lack of detail persists even after an extensive survey of other DREAM registrants from all classifications, including but not limited to: The Queen, Rosethorn, The Prophet [... list condensed for brevity]].

What we do know is that she is quite brilliant, both academically and practically. She holds dual doctorate degrees from the University of Harmony City in astrophysics and literature, and has a respected career as “one of the best writers in [the astrophysics] field” entirely apart from her involvement as a super. It is rumored that she is also a successfully-published author of intricately-crafted fantasy novels, but under a pen name that is as yet unconfirmed.

Making these achievements all the more impressive is that Lulu is diagnosed with fibromyalgia and in ongoing treatment. One topic of inquiry into her power has been trying to ascertain if both Ghost and Nebula have fibro symptoms. Both powers would offer some manner of amelioration - Ghost is able to travel distances with minimal effort, and Nebula’s star sprites are able to support her and even carry her when needed.

When it comes to morals, there appears to be clear divide between Ghost and Nebula, which is the primary source of confusion regarding these personalities’ true nature. Nebula has assisted in several high-stakes battles defending the city against villains, but is less available for calls involving nonviolent crime. Ghost has engaged in many cases of vandalism and assisted nonviolent criminals and villains (including, most notably and frequently, Lovely Darling)

Another achievement: after getting to know S.E.A.M. Talyn Stokes through HEARTS and the DREAM registration process, Dr. Ador worked with the city government to overhaul the benefits given to heroes registered with HATCH. Previously, there had been a small stipend given based on number of calls responded to, and medical coverage for on-the-job injuries. Under the new system, there’s a full salary tied to level of accessibility (with on-call being highest and blackout-only lowest) and full medical coverage of any preexisting conditions as well as ‘professional’ injuries. Through the process of redoing this system, she ended up becoming the city’s primary consultant on chronic illness as it relates to public health and healthcare. She and SEAM Stokes remain good friends.

~~~~~

A rare photo is attached, on cordial visit to City Hall for tea with Talyn.

~~~~~ 

[A/N: as may be obvious, the Super name comes from The Ghost Nebula, also inspired by the ever-accurate nickname Fluff Fairy, Angst Goblin. CN is from Lulu herself and the fact that I Ador[e] her.

Costume - it always looks the same, but as Nebula, the star sprites hide against the star-print fabric and emerge when called.]

[dark-is-d3ad]

You know what I was looking for but couldn't find? Ghost having fibro headcanons or fics. Gotta do it myself, then.

Disclaimer: I don't know if that would work out at all, something tells me he wouldn't be able to keep up with active duty if he had it, but anyway. Let's assume Ghost is a BAMF, and he finds a way.

• Price knows. Ghost told him when he got diagnosed, because he didn't want to be a liability in the field. He was scared that he'd get discharged. Price found him a treatment that actually worked instead. "Just check in with me if you're not feeling well, alright?"

Ghost rarely does. Only if he thinks it could impact the mission or he can't function at all, which doesn't happen too often.

• He's not new to pain, and he's got a high tolerance. Most of the time he can just push it down and ignore it, no one even suspects a thing. Or rather he thinks they don't. While most of the base really doesn't, Gaz and Soap have figured it out a while ago, and if he gets an unprompted cup of tea on the bad days, a nap break, or they go on a jog instead of sparring or lifting, it's pure coincidences. They care about him in their own little ways.

• With the infusions scheduled properly he's mostly doing really good. He trains, he fights, he's sharp and focused, and there's no repercussions from it. Sometimes he even thinks he made it all up. It's on very bad days when he clearly realises he still has it. It's there, just waiting for him to let his guard slide, and then it'll fucking melt his bones from the inside for days on end.

• Pain contributes to the scary aloof vibes he got. It does get him even more shut off and grumpy that he already is, though. That's how Soap tracks it.

• If it's really bad, he hides away in his room and sits it out. Also, he is bad at accepting help, especially when he's in pain, it makes him vulnerable. He hates it.

• Infusions fuck him up a little. It's a shit ton of lidocaine and ketamine that they drip into him slowly, monitoring it so they don't give him a heart attack. But it's just half a day, every 4 months, and then he's golden for a good while. Well worth it

~~~~~

Sometimes it gets unpredictable. This one starts out as mild exhaustion and achy joints, and at first he writes it off as just being tired from a mission. They wrapped everything up and are heading back to base, so he'll just catch some shuteye and be fine. But by the time they land, everything is amplified, too bright, too loud, uniform coarse and prickly against his skin. It hurts like he was run over by a truck. His head feels stuffed, thoughts thick and blurry; it's exhausting to follow them, words and images fading in that sick black and white fog, sentences falling apart. It doesn't make much sense. He doesn't remember how he gets to his room. The bad-bad days are when Ghost fucking breaks, and this is shaping up to be one of those at record speed. He whimpers in relief when boiling hot shower takes some of the pain away, but for mere seconds, the short break only making the return of it sharper. It soon blends into a neverending stretch of pain-pain-pain, consumes him whole. He slides on the floor, water still flowing, and just sits there for a long while, not really being ready to move, head empty.

"Ghost? You alright in there?"

"What, Johnny?" he rasps. Sounds send waves of pins and needles through his body. It makes it worse.

"You're late for the debrief, Price asked me to get ye."

"Fuck," Ghost groans. How did he forget? "Give me a minute."

He's slow, his brain refusing to cooperate with him, but he manages to dress up. Pain and brain fog make him unsteady on his feet, like if he had a bad flu. When he opens the door, he's met with a concerned look.

"Are ye OK? Ye look like shite."

Ghost hates that concern wuth a subtle undertone of care in Soap's voice. It makes him feel weak.

"I'm fine. Leave it, Soap," he snaps. It's very apparent that he's not, but walking takes all of his focus, and thank god Soap follows him in silence.

Price sees right through him, but says nothing, just gives him a long look before they start. Ghost is not really helpful with the debrief. It's become even harder to focus, and his vision blurs slightly now. He manages to add some details to the intel they've got, but it really takes it out of him. When it's finally over, his gaze is glassy and unfocused, and he sees black spots from pain. He realises he might actually pass out. He really needs to get back to his room.

He leaves last, and stumbles into Soap who's apparently been waiting him around the corner, and has to grab him not to fall over. Soap steadies him on his feet.

"Lt? What's up? Fucking talk to me." He looks almost angry.

"Help me get to my room. Please," Ghost concedes. He feels fucking pathetic, but he's not in shape to make it back on his own. His ears are ringing, vision getting dark, pain searing throughout his whole body.

Soap walks him back along the wall, hand on his back.

"You sure you weren't injured today?"

"Affirmative."

He sees things in flashes. He probably closed his eyes at some point. Soap lands him on the bed, and at this point Ghost's given up. A particularly bad wave of pain makes him groan.

Soap takes matters into his hands from there.

"Let me check ya real quick." His hands run quickly, feeling Ghost's body.

"Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere," Ghost moans, almost delirious from pain at this point, it doesn't feel real anymore. Johnny's there in his fever dream, undressing him, tucking him into bed. He wants to protest, but it hurts-hurts-hurts, so he's just trying not to make sounds. And he fails even at that.

"Got any pain meds? Want me to get medical?"

Ghost just shakes his head. "It will get better," he slurrs, "in a few days."

"Are ye outta yeir heid?!" Oh, now Johnny is properly pissed off with him. "Ye stubborn bastard," he finishes before he storms out of his room.

Ghost pulls the mask off. He's falling through the bed, exhaustion pulling him under. He knows he won't fall asleep, it hurts too much for that, but this limbo of not thinking and falling-falling-falling is the closest to comfort he can get now. He hears the door open again.

"Oh," goes Soap stopping dead in his tracks.

Ghost pulls the blanket up to his eyes.

"I got ye something," Johnny says quickly. "Here. It's weed-based, got some real deal in there, but they said it doesn't make you high. So no fun for ye, but it should help with the pain."

Ghost is up for anything at this point, so he takes it. The whole dose is in a syringe without a needle, and he lets the oil sit under his tongue for a bit, hoping that it will make it work faster.

"Water, snacks," Soap continues. "I'll stay until it works, alright? They said to return to them if it doesn't."

"Thank you, Johnny," Ghost says quietly. His breaths are still laboured, exhales sounding more like little whimpers. He is too tired to care.

Soap sits on the side of the bed.

"Can I try a thing?" He asks suddenly. "Mum used to do it when I had migraines. Maybe it will work for ye, too."

Ghost wants to be left alone, but he also wants it to pass, and Johnny's staying for about an hour anyway. Because meds. And that thing might help, too. So he nods.

Soap puts his hands on his head and gently massages it, strokes messy blonde hair lightly, puts a little pressure in just the right places. Touch is usually unbearable in this state for Ghost, but this is somehow perfectly balanced. He relaxes into it, and exhales. Relief comes in little tiny waves, taking the edge off the pain.

After a bit, he shifts closer to Jonny's lap, burying his face in the side of Soap's thigh. That way Soap doesn't have to extend his arms, it's better. It weirdly comfortable, and deep inside he just wants to stay like that forever.

"Don't stop," comes out soft and a little muffled.

Soap doesn't.

"I knew ye had something up, but I didn't know it was this bad," he says in a little while.

"It's just a bad day."

"And how often that happens?"

"Sometimes. It's usually more... manageable."

Ghost slides one of his hands from under the blanket. Soap picks up on the unsaid, and starts to do the same magic on it. The pain fades, slowly but surely, exhaustion and emptiness crawling in its place. Johnny's presence grounds him. He's torn between the urge to shut off again and the desire to just keep Soap there forever, he wants more, he needs more. It's suprisingly easy to give in.

"Stay," he asks, half-asleep.

Soap crawls in the bed, scooting himself over. He shifts a little, getting comfortable. Ghosts moves his other hand towards him, and Johnny continues with the massage.

The blanket slips off Ghost's face. "Didn't lie about the opposite," Soap thinks absentmindedly. His heart skips a bit, when Ghost buries his forehead in his shoulder and snuggles up to him.

"Next time it happens, tell me, OK?"

He feels the nod.

[thewritingcaddy]

My Answers to the WIP Ask Meme

Original meme here

1: Summarize your WIP in 10 words or less.

A group of Ghosthunters confront a hidden government.

2: Post a line from your WIP with no context.

“Because you’ve been shrieking about it for the last ten minutes!” Their mother interrupted.

3: Does your WIP have a title? If so, explain its significance. If not, what are you calling it for now?

Not yet. I’m calling it Haunted Towers for now.

4: Describe the setting of your WIP.

1990s Britain. Set in the Cardiff-Newport area of South Wales.

5: Search for the word “knife” in your WIP. If you find it, paste the line and explain the context.

-

6: Search for the word “dream” in your WIP. If you find it, paste the line and explain the context.

"Debt for years and another three or four years of graft and you too can have the high-flying career of your dreams," Becky narrowly avoided a red light.

A teenage Siobhan is talking to a Sixth Former about A Levels and University. 

7: What are you most proud of?

Having anything at all in the way of work on this WIP. My fibromyalgia has hit me like a truck and I can’t believe my writing didn’t get sidelined. I fight really hard for it though. I was determined not to give it up because of fibromyalgia.

8: What is your biggest challenge?

Personally, the fibro, but I also struggle with depression and that obviously affects motivation, self-esteem and anxiety. The thing that suffers the most is my writing, because that is the thing I love the most, and that’s what depression seems to do.

From a writing angle, though, with this particular project, I want to write an ensemble cast, but I’m sure how that will work. I’ve never written an ensemble cast before, and the only time I can recall seeing it done was in Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo, where it was done really, really well.

9: How would you describe your writing style?

My writing is fairly simple, I think. My worlds and characters are quite well-developed. My weakpoint is plot. I’m not a writer of stunning prose or anything. Other than not being super literary-fiction-ish, I don’t really know what my style is.

10: How would you describe your WIP’s narrative style? (1st person, 3rd person, multiple POVs, single POV, alternating chapters, etc.)

Ensemble cast, multiple POV, leaning on 3rd person at the moment, but I want to try out 1st, just to see. I want to keep all the POVs in one or the other and not mix them, but that does sometimes work, so maybe I should try it?

11: Which character do you have the most in common with?

Ember or Siobhan I think. Some elements of Anna.

12: Which character do you have the least in common with?

Millie.

13: Your characters are stranded on a deserted island. What happens?

Well, they are a team, and they are trained to work as a team in dangerous situations, so on a survival front, they would whip that island into shape! They’d swing instantly into action, gathering resources, building shelter, scouting out potential risks… They’d get along ok with each other too. They are also good at keeping calm, and not panicking and fucking everything up. The issues would come when they miss home, and when the introverts need a break from the extroverts, and when the extroverts need more fun and people around. Also, Siobhan and Liv are not normally on jobs with them. Siobhan is their headset voice, and Liv is their manager at the office. So with Siobh and Liv stranded with them, the whole dynamic would change, and most of the team don’t know Liv that well. They’d also really, really miss Siobh’s outside view of everything and their sensible headset voice! Although she would be there, she wouldn’t have the more expansive viewpoint to guide them with. If Siobhan wasn’t there, it would come down to can she access their surroundings to guide them, does her tech work, and can they still communicate? If they didn’t have access to Siobhan one way or the other there would be panic. She is their steersman! They need her more than they know.

14: Have you chosen birthdays for any of your characters? If so, when are they?

I’ve always done this for my characters, but not for this cast, for some reason.

15: Do you know your characters’ MBTI personalities?

No. I can’t do that 7 or 8 times. 

16: What would your characters be for Halloween?

Siobhan: A genie

Liv: When Liv is male he would go as an elf. When female she would go as a sort of candypop character. Like candy pastels and fun. Somewhere along the lines of Strawberry Shortcake in cuteness, but really modern, with candy pastels.

Millie: A ghost bride

Astro: A ghost

Neve: A witch

Anna: A vampire

Katie: An alien, especially E.T

Ember: A werewolf

17: Does your WIP have any themes or motifs?

Friendship and betrayal are huge in Haunted Towers. And the general aesthetic of British 90s as a motif.

18: What’s easier, dialogue or description?

I enjoy writing prose more than dialogue.

19: Post a picture or gif that describes your WIP.

20: Post a brief excerpt.

Alone in her car, Siobhan turned her CD player up. The music was older than her. Something her Dad had loved before she was born. She knew she shouldn’t be listening to it. Her mother, her friends and even her little sister had complained that she was holding on and making herself depressed. But Siobhan didn’t care. She wanted her dad, and since she couldn’t have him, then she would have this. She’d switch it to something more upbeat as she got near the office. There was that one set of traffic lights that always took forever. She’d use that as her cue to listen to her own, current stuff. By the time she got to work she’d be fine and no one would ever know. 

[saferincages]

I’m too soft for a world this dark. Sometimes I don’t think that I can handle it.

Art and writing by Emily Bourne.

Chronically comics is centering feelings I’ve been experiencing lately towards my chronic pain illness, Fibromyalgia, and the effects it’s having on my physical plus mental health. My first article, ‘But you don’t look sick?’, was the first time I spoke openly about my condition. While it was a liberating and freeing experience for me, vulnerability is scary. So, here I am doing it again - this time, not hiding or downplaying the bad.

*These drawings were created in October/November time of 2018.

[image description: a girl is mailing a letter saying ‘return to sender: my illness, hell, fck you’ into a post box]

I am in pain every moment of everyday. Some days I’m in more pain. Some days I’m in less pain. But I'm always in pain. So remember that next time you want to dismiss my disability.

[image description: a girl sleeping in bed whilst a ghost is stealing energy from her]

I wake up tired, like a ghost has crawled inside my body overnight and stolen all my energy.

[image description: a drawing of a girl sat on the moon with the text: I’m not me anymore.]

It’s not just the pain in every inch of my body. It’s the disabling fatigue. The brain fog. The hopelessness. The depression. The disappointment. The anger. It’s more than ‘just a bit of muscle pain’. My personality has changed. I don’t see friends as much. I’m me, but less.

[image description: the left side of the page is empty and on the right is the text, ‘I feel like I’m drifting.]

I was sitting in the car, about to make my way to school, when the word ‘drifting’ popped into my head. That’s how this feels: like I’m drifting. My mind is barely here - mind fog is something I experience because of my fibromyalgia. My family knows what it’s like: you can tell me something one moment and it will be forgotten in the next.

[image description: a girl sat on a planet with a black background and to other planets in the the background. ‘When you fall ill you don’t expect that it’s never going to go away’ is written around her.]

I’m learning to cope. I’m learning to grieve. Life is different now.

[image description: a girl with tears streaming from her eyes with a broken heart in front of a dark moon.]

Hope feels like it’s gone. My dreams don’t feel attainable anymore.

                   *    *    *

This article will hopefully be informative for people that don’t know much about Fibromyalgia and chronic pain conditions. Below I will leave some useful links:

NHS self help for fibromyalgia

Facebook groups such as Fibromyalgia support, UK Fibro support group and Fibro and invisible illness support group.

Instagram pages for people with chronic pain; drawnpoorlyzine, mychronicpaindiary and sufferingthesilence.

Also I want to say a massive thank you to the people that support me throughout all of the bad stuff. I love you.

Finally I’ll leave you with this quote by Lady GaGa, who also has Fibromyalgia:

���I get so irritated with people who don’t believe fibromyalgia is real. For me, and I think many others, it’s really a cyclone of anxiety, depression, PTSD, trauma, and panic disorder, all of which sends the nervous system into overdrive, and then you have nerve pain as a result.”

***

“People need to be more compassionate. Chronic pain is no joke. And it’s every day waking up not knowing how you’re going to feel.”

@chronicillnessmemes - I hope it’s okay to tag you in this, I thought it might speak to some of your followers as it did to me.

I saw this posted on Suffering the Silence yesterday and wanted to share it here on Tumblr. It is...very real and so indicative of what many of us with fibromyalgia and other chronic illness/pain conditions go through, often invisibly, as our lives fundamentally change and as we experience repeating cycles of grief. This especially struck me: It’s not just the pain in every inch of my body. It’s the disabling fatigue. The brain fog. The hopelessness. The depression. The disappointment. The anger. ...I’m me, but less. I’ve written many times myself about the feeling of disappearing within my own body, about exhaustion and illness and pain making me a living ghost, and this illustrated that existence and the heaviness which goes with it in a simple yet poignant way. I won’t say it’s comforting whenever I see others articulate this, because I wish no one had to suffer it, but there is a power in the empathy and recognition of not being alone in the midst and difficulty of it.

[fairy-made]

tagged by @unded :3c

rules: tag ten people you want to get to know better!

tagging: @lyriumrain @miscellaneon @mistressamell @allyzodia @rosietherivethead @vietsthetic @kurisutofuuh

(I mean I know some of this basic stuff about yall already but if I didnt know like 1 thing I thought of you lol.)

star sign:

aries, and I think my rising sign and my moon are in cancer?? I dont really know how that stuff works.

height:

5′3″

put your itunes/spotify on shuffle. what are the first 4 songs that popped up?:

follow you, follow me - genesis

cant believe it - tpain ft lil wayne

bound - ponderosa twins plus one

love hangover - diana ross

grab the book nearest you & turn to page 23. what’s line 17?:

“inter-vertebral discs are thick cushions of fibro-cartilage...” (atlas of human anatomy for the artist)

ever had a poem or song written about you?:

yeah! by a dude that chose to pursue someone else right after he went on a date with me lmao

when was the last time you played air guitar?:

a month or 2 ago, it was for my cat mango.

who is your celebrity crush?:

got 3. steven yeun, a young wesley snipes (because hes too old for me now), and amber rose 

what’s a sound you hate + a sound you love?:

I hate hearing people chew....the spit moving around......it sickens me

I love the sound of cats purring. if they let me, I will put my head on them to receive the good energy lol. 

do you believe in ghosts?:

I dont want to but I do.

how about aliens?:

also too scary but yes.

do you drive?:

yes, but not to popeyes as often as I should........I keep thinking about this but what if I go on a day they dont make it fresh???

if so, have you ever crashed?:

nope

what was the last book you read?:

that anatomy book lol, I still keep reading it

do you like the smell of gasoline?:

as a kid I did, but now it scares me because Im afraid of my car and the gas station exploding.....I really think it has a lot to do with ramming my car into gas stations in saints row. It feels like its so easy to blow the place up unintentionally.... but its like you cant ever test that???? so how would you know if its easy to blow up a gas station or not???

what was the last movie you saw?:

ghosts of girlfriends past on tv with my mom about an hour ago

What was the worst injury you’ve ever had?:

cutting my finger open when I popped and broke a glass while shoving my hand into it to wash it. and it doesnt count as a injury necessarily but when my ear lifted off the side of my head swollen bc of a badly infected cartilage piercing, the doctor cut into my ear to dig the puss out assuming the numbing meds were enough. they were not, I felt everything for like 30 secs before I said something and almost passed out lmao 

do you have any obsessions right now?:

playing the urbz, sims in the city for GBA, resident evil outbreak, the sims 1 for pc, and super mario sunshine (all stuff I played or watched ppl play as a kid)

do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?:

yep, but really only if I felt there was NO justifiable reason for a person to do what they did to me. like, I understand WHY my ex in high school did what he did, but did he HAVE to? no. a part of me wishes he would suffer for the rest of his life. we were young and stupid but.... I still wish him the worst?? like, die, scoob. but in a passive way. sort of.

in a relationship?

yes (I talked to him about that thing and Ive felt much better & a lot more confident about things since.)

[bibliobethblog]

Hi everyone and hope your week has got off to a great start! Mine unfortunately started off with a huge fibro flare so thank goodness for taking pics ahead of time! 😅 It’s Monday and I’m excited to share with you all another book haul post. Mr B bought me two Patricia Highsmith books recently from the Vintage Modern Classics Designer Collection and of course me being me….I wanted all of them. This week I’m showing you the ones I’ve picked up so far: Excellent Women - Barbara Pym The Ghost Stories Of Edith Wharton - Edith Wharton The Tortoise And The Hare - Elizabeth Jenkins Aren’t the covers gorgeous? I’m obsessed with them!! #bookstagram #bookstagrammer #bookhaul #bookhoarder #bookheaven #allthebooks #beautifulbooks #beautifulhardbacks #nakedhardbacks #excellentwomen #barbarapym #theghoststoriesofedithwharton #thetortoiseandthehare #elizabethjenkins #vintagemodernclassics #vmcdesignercollection #prettybooks https://www.instagram.com/p/CRzeucIrmP3/?utm_medium=tumblr

[lelibug]

  Today, I found an old (former?) friend on Facebook (…where else?!). I haven’t seen her since she left for Australia with her family when we were 12 years old. I happened to be looking through old photos and wondered if she was on there. And she was. And I saw her as she was now… 25 years later.

Married. Three boys. High School Graduate. Still close to her family. Her sister shared the same (birth) name as I did, and she was also mentioned on there – married also. Looking almost exactly the same as she had done, just older. I recognised her picture… That smile was always so bright and infectious, it was instantly recognisable, if nothing else.

My instinct was to say Hi. Naturally. Since she would never be able to find me on Facebook (I deliberately ensured that no one from my previous life could find me first), I thought it would be nice to get in contact, because before she left we were the best of friends and fellow Beatlemaniacs. In the pictures we looked like we were having a great time. But after that initial thought… another feeling came over me.

My reaction to finding her wasn’t quite what I was expecting at all.  I ended up with that now-familiar shockwave I get when I realise that what “normal” people with their average lives take for granted, I never can. When I see what other people my own age are doing… in glaring comparison to mine. And I was left feeling… Sad. Inadequate. Pathetic. Lost. Forsaken. Broken. Pointless. A Nothing; A No-One.

She had a husband… I had Fibromyalgia. She had three boys… I had what felt like a hundred pills a day to take. She looked like she was doing well… I had a wheelchair and a catheter that refused to stay put. She was living a good life… I was barely alive and broken into too many pieces to even count. She lived in Australia… I lived with my elderly(ish) parents (and don’t tell them I said that!) who have to care for every damned need I have, despite my being the very wrong side of 30 (and I used to think saying “the wrong side of 20” was a tragedy…).

What on earth was I ever supposed to say to her?

All I could ever offer was the possible bad news (or unfortunate news, at least) that her former [best] friend was a wheelchair-reliant, mobility-impaired Fibromyalgia sufferer, who could no longer do anything, nor remember much of anything, and lived in constant and consistent agony. Was I only to simply talk about what I used to do – what I once was?  I had no conversation, nothing to offer, and what use could there possibly be from bothering her with a G’d Day from me?

And no, it’s not about falling for some “perfection” boloney that most people put on there (there is surprisingly little about her life on here, except some recent pictures of her boys, who look adorable anyhow), and then putting my life up against them. I don’t do that anyway. It’s about the fact that what other people have, and take for granted, was never mine to enjoy, or have. There is almost no one I know, if anyone, that is in the same situation as me. Immobile, in agony, with a life lost at age 32, now living with and being taken care of by my parents for almost everything,  as if I’m some kind of overgrown toddler (sort of, I’m not exactly that much taller than a child!).

Every small thing brings home what I’m not. How broken I am. What has been lost. What nothing has been left behind. I hate the self-pity… But after nearly five damned years of this, I still yet have no idea how to process all of this. Because there is no How or answer to Why… It’s something that exploded from nowhere and no one can ever explain it. Leaving me struggling to do the most basic of things, and dignity be damned! I haven’t had any of that for a while now…

This woman is a memory of what could have been, what may have been. When I knew her I was a young child with endless possibilities. Before the serious bullying (it turned out that it was she who was inadvertently keeping me safe from this, as it started up almost the moment she was gone…) that destroyed my childhood and teenage years, as well as the first half of my 20s. Before umpteen illnesses and allergies – not to mention the Fibro. Before I was killed inside and a zombified vampire of a soul returned to attempt to survive and cope with whatever little that was left of me.

She left just before the shit hit the fan… so the (rather spotty and sporadic) memories, the seemingly unending amount pictures of her or the two of us, the girl that I had been and that I was back then, all are shadows long lost to the older, destroyed woman I am now. Seeing me then, with her, innocent and ignorant of the hell that was to come for the next Quarter-Decade of life, was a shock. I don’t remember those times – I don’t remember most of my entire life – so I have no recollection of who I was before. But in those pictures I was introduced to her. This person I was. Alongside my friend. I was smiling. Having fun. Clearly being silly and enjoying it. Being Beatlemaniacs together. Being in the first year of high school together (before that school played its part in pulling me apart). It was a relationship full of fun, hope, and playfulness. Without a single clue as to what was going to come next…

And thusly, contacting her would achieve nothing but encouraging the Ghost of Life-Once-Was to haunt me again. They’re haunting me enough as it is. This woman isn’t really the same person who was my friend. She’s no longer CE but Mrs. H, a mother, whatever else she has become. The only thing that is still the same is that infectious smile, and her kind and sparkling eyes.

I do not remember the past, so it must be best to let sleeping dogs lie. I was long traumatised by everything that happened to me, and probably the best thing is that I have forgotten. Retrograde Amnesia happens in PTSD for a reason, after all – and I’ll kind-of thank Pregablin for deleting the rest. I may not have much Short or Long Term Memory, but although that is annoying and unfortunate at times, it’s a good thing most of the time, and it’s best not to go rooting around what’s there in my mind.

Therefore, Mrs. H, née CE, I think it still best you still don’t know where I am or how to contact me. I ensured my old name is not linked to my online footprint or profiles for good reason. My past should stay where it is. In the pictures. In memories. In the past.

            The Past Collides With The Present… Today, I found an old (former?) friend on Facebook (...where else?!). I haven't seen her since she left for Australia with her family when we were 12 years old.

[theremightbecupcakespodcast]

I should have taken a before picture. Underneath this makeup is so much inflammation, red patches for days. Chronic illness plus pretty spackle. I successfully used cream eyeshadow for the first time and lined my eyes without poking myself in the eye or drawing the line in the middle of my eyelid, plus Falwell Jr. has stepped down. I’m feeling pretty positive despite feeling so flared up. All those years in school for psychology and counseling, and I have no idea why we must open our mouths when we apply eyeliner and mascara. Join me at 7EST and let’s tell ghost stories at the @GetVokl link in bio or https://getvokl.com/open-room/Haunted-Houses-Part-2. Don’t waste this makeup. #homebound #chronicillness #chronicpain #beyourownheroine #EDS #hypermobility #fibro #fibromyalgia #potstickers #spoonie #zebra #spooniestrong #zebrastrong #youdontlooksick #dysautonomia #mcas #selfie ♥️♥️♥️🧁🧁🧁 #bookpodcast #bookpodcaster #bookpodcasts #trypod #podcast #beyourownheroine #podcasts #theremightbecupcakes #ladypodsquad #zebrapodcaster #spooniepodcaster #disabledpodcaster #newepisode #newpodcastepisode https://www.instagram.com/p/CDmtTG-Dc3o/?igshid=cozymbctv8ms