#haven’t been well physically for months tho but a symptom that was getting better got worse today

[moonlightlacrima]

can ignore, im just venting in the tags

[noblechaton]

okay so this is a post I’ve wanted to make for a lil while now but I’ve been kinda....not huge on talking about what’s been going on with me health-wise bc it’s been so stressful (and writing all of this on mobile would suck lol) but anyway I feel like explaining why I haven’t been writing or even really posting too much

also a lil warning here but it gets a bit gross due to what’s going on lately so uh be careful near the end of this if ur squeamish (like me) and also this is very long bc it sorta recounts the last 6-7 months so it might be a bit messy looking

alright so. on october 28th after getting poor, fragmented amounts of sleep and having nothing to eat besides fast food bc it’s all my family got (mcdonalds in the morning and chinese food for dinner) I had this awful scary pain in my chest (upper left side, at that) and it worried me real bad but I pushed thru for a few days bc i thought maybe it’d clear itself up and stuff

but it didn’t and so after maybe a week or so with it I told my parents and we first went to my aunt’s urgent care place for an EKG (which was normal) but we were soon set up for a doctor’s appointment (my first in like....at least 5 years. probs more tbh) and he examined me but wasn’t able to figure anything out so he set up some further tests at a cardiologist and those came and went (an echocardiogram and a stress test along with some more EKGs) and all of them went well so we still had no idea what the issue is/was but I was put on a lot of medications to try and see if anything helped (plus I got put on antidepressants which was nice for a bit but they caused problems physically so I’ve stopped taking them)

by like mid febuary I think?? (and after totally reorganizing my diet for a few months to include healthier stuff and exercise) the issue started to fade and for a minute I thought it’d worked itself out

but then like two weeks before march started my wrists and ankles started hurting bad enough to cause my hands and feet to twitch and shake which terrified me but I didn’t say anything (mostly bc my family, namely my mom, is/was getting fed up with my medical stuff and I didn’t wanna make her more mad lol) however it stopped a lil before march really started

but then my head started pounding nonstop and it hurt super bad for 5 weeks (urgent care did nothing bc like. they just can’t do anything for that) and near the end of it I went and got an MRI done which came back good, just like the cardio stuff did earlier (tho it pointed out a minor sinus infection which I think is what caused/causes it??)

then near the end of march (and after taking appropriate OTC stuff for sinus infections) it sorta lessened and has since eased up despite some flare ups here and there which might be caused by....whatever’s going on now, which brings me to....

two or so days before the MRI I ended up vomiting up some food which was weird bc I don’t really vomit and then it happened the next day too and I got worried but at first I thought it was food poisoning since my diet had kinda shifted back to bad habits due to the head pains but then the day of the MRI and the day or two after that the puking stopped only to then started back up again

now something I realized after a while was that I wasn’t like actually puking like normal puke but instead it looked like it was just my food (not to be too gross but I could/can see actual pieces of food as they would have looked in my mouth sometimes) which led me to (sort of) figuring out that what I’ve been doing is actually regurgitating for some reason (everything from typical food finely chewed to apples to certain drinks like apple juice and even water sometimes to straight up mucus that runs down my throat/gets sniffled) and my throat has felt weird, like knotted up?? tight?? or something even tho I’ve only had minor difficulties swallowing sometimes (a lot of the pain/issue comes when I speak I think)

so that’s where I’m at now. for w/e reason I can’t get anything besides water and crackers down consistently (and even then those still come up sometimes) and I’ve been looking for solutions myself or to at least figure out what it is since I sort of need to be able to eat more than just once every few days (tho I seem to keep toast down which is nice)

mostly I’ve been leaning towards GERD since there’s no real/overt pains, I’ve had acid reflux all my life as far as I can remember, and it ties in with the upper chest pain and headaches but then I wasn’t doing this for the last ~7 months, this regurgitating thing only just started, so I’m not entirely convinced tho idk what else it could be (the doc I spoke to today mentioned a hernia thingy?? which is what I leaned for at first when it was just chest aches and looking at symptoms now it does kinda fit still but also it doesn’t?? so idk) 

and this entire time I’ve been scared out of my mind bc of various reasons (from not knowing what’s going on to what my body’s actually been doing to my own family members kinda not helping to put it very lightly lol) and that’s kinda why my writing drive has been next to nonexistent and I haven’t been posting all that often (and part of why I haven’t seen the ML finale - I don’t need that kinda feeling rn lmao)

now tho the plan is to get an endoscopy at the hospital sometime soon I think (I’m waiting for a scheduling phone call rn) while taking prilosec (which....isn’t really working tbh) and I’m just kinda trying to hang in there and not freak out too badly but it’s been hard lol

hopefully we can set this thing up today and get it done asap so I can maybe start being myself again sooner rather than later assuming I even can but yea!! I appreciate the patience and kindness that’s been offered to me over the last few months especially since y’all didn’t even know I was going thru anything lmao

also!! real quick!! another (maybe not as major) reason as to why writing’s slowed so much is bc I sorta ran out of room in my room and started stacking stuff on my computer and typing out full fledged fics on my lil ipod (yes, ipod, not phone) is uh really hard!! but I managed to clean some stuff up in between all of this and once I get better I’ll be doing more cleaning in my room to try and have my computer back full time

[iphoenixrising]

For 700 Followers!

Hi babe. Ah, you know, I think we could really work something out because if there’s anything I like, it’s Tim trying to have the I am an island attitude with clingy, needy Bat Alphas right on his tail ;) Tbh, I wrote this once and it got lost, so I cried, but I’m going to give it another shot!

Also, just saying but there was also a short thing done about *ahem* toys in this au, and you’ll probably find a similar theme X

**

There is nothing worse than water in your fucking boots.

Seriously.

His impromptu dip in the harbor was completely worth the pain in the ass because Two-Face is going to live to see another day, and he even acted less crazy than normal when he was handcuffed by GCPD, quiet while he was taken away in the back of a squad car.

The best part? The villain told him he was glad he hadn’t filled him full of holes after all. Red Robin is going to take that as a win.

And since his sleuthing is done for the night, he can go back to his Perch in Gotham City and get out of these wet clothes and put his damn boots by a heating vent to dry out a little.

He feels good enough about the night to order a pizza and do his notes while a slice is hanging out of his mouth when dry clothes are a thing.

He has a fan turning lazily, trying to keep himself cooled down because the Heat symptoms just started to manifest while he was riding back from the take-down (all that wind rushing by while he’s in a wet suit and still he’s starting to get hot? Seriously, body, stop making shit harder on him).

The pre-Heat could take up to three hours before the main event starts, and he at least wants to get the notes done and go blackout before it happens.

He’s got a bunch of Gatorade and power bars from two weeks ago when Jay and Dick pretty much showed up just in time for him to go full blown. Luckily, Dick had picked up more on the way to his Perch since the God-forsaken sixth sense had struck again. Somehow, maybe some Pack Alpha instinct, Dick had known he was going to need them, and true to form, the last Heat had been particularly vicious, his body in physical pain when he was empty.

(And no, he doesn’t need a reminder how nice Dick and Jay were about it when he was literally fucking crying. Geeze, things he doesn’t need people to see for 100 Alex.)

Which means he should have been good for a month and a half, but Leslie had warned him going this long on suppressants would have some effects on him biologically. She’d mentioned he could have two Heats back-to-back as a sign his body is starting to regulate like any normal Omega. So, really, this pain-in-the-ass is his own fault anyway.

Notes done, he logs out of BI’s mainframe and shoots the Titan’s a quick message, In Gotham. Perfectly safe. Going to sleep for 24-36 hours. Don’t freak out about the blackout mode, and shuts down his main system in preparation.

Barefoot, he pads around to shut off the lights and fans, grabs a Gatorade, starts pulling his nerd shirt off on the way to the bedroom. Security in lockdown and he’s starting to feel the burn just a little bit more.

Not long now. Damn, hopefully this will be fast and furious.

A locked box in the back of the closet is deposited by the bed, his thumb print accepted. He shifts through the unopened packages until he gets the red one and the blue one out, laying them on the bed to open before the round of fuck my contingencies ramps up.

(His face is hot, and not because of the pre-Heat. The two knotting dildos were purchased when he started thinking one night about what he was going to do when his body started regulating out, so Dick and Jay wouldn’t need to play Alphas to his Omega anymore. Ironically, the two toys reminded him of their knots anyway, and he’d been guilty as fuck buying them.)

He’s already started sweating lightly and jumps in the shower to wash off Gotham Harbor.

His phone goes off while he’s drying himself off, shifting his weight because his abdomen is already starting to get tight and uncomfortable in anticipation.

The message on his phone makes him groan/sigh because the Red Hood is wondering:

Jaybird: How was the swim?

There’s more laughing emojis than he realistically needs.

In just boxers, Tim plops down on his bed, taps his phone to decide whether or not to respond. Since they already knew he’d taken down Two-Face, he really doesn’t have options.

Me: nice this time of year. Btw, Harvey didn’t drown. That’s a win for the good guys.

Before he’s done, the ellipsis meaning someone is typing shows up, so he’s got himself in a world of trouble by answering. Natch.

(On the other hand, his Omega whispers, if you hadn’t messaged back, they might come looking for you. It preens at the thought of his Pack Alphas concerned for him, coming for him– Dammit. Not. The. Time.)

Jaybird: Oughta come 2 the Manor. Al made pizza. Can celebrate?

Well, shit.

Me: Thanks 4 the invite. Running time-sensitive diagnostic for the Titans and crashing. See you at the next VA meeting tho.

Okay. So, normal. Jay will understand the need for fighting crime.

Jaybird: No problem. We’ll bring you some.

Fuck. Fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck.

Me: Nah. Not tonight. Gonna set this up and crash. The alarm will wake me when the analysis is done. Enjoy the pizza!

Jaybird: If you’re sure?

Me: Positive. Sleep is calling. GN.

And turns off his phone with a sigh of unmitigated relief.

Crisis averted.

Right?

**

Forty-five minutes later, he’s idly eating popcorn and watching Infinity War when a wave of blistering heat washes over him, and the gentle reprieve is finally done.

His cock is hard and aching within a moment, his hands fisting in the blanket under him, hips jerking. The soft, subtle scent of slick tickles the edges of his senses, his ass starting to get moist under his boxers.

But Tim has old memories of doing this alone back when he was still in the tunic, and he forces himself to breath past the initial stages, fists his hands even tighter to keep from touching himself yet. He remembers how much better the orgasm was when he held off for as long as he could, remembers the time between waves lasted longer.

He bites down on his lower lip to keep in the noises (but really, what is the point?) and tries to just keep thinking.

He shoves the unopened boxes over and sprawls out on his back, trying not to let anything other than his boxers touch his aching erection. His thighs tighten, legs spreading automatically, feet bracing to work his hips a little.

It’s fine. You’ve done this before isn’t really that much of a consolation.

With the fire in his body starting to get more and please and Oh God, his mouth falls open to pant, toss his head back and forth with the arousal building, making his belly get tense.

An abrupt cramp knocks the wind out of him ending on a small, helpless noise that inadvertently escapes.

Rolling on his side, curling in on himself, Tim forces himself to just fucking breathe through it, it won’t last forever.

–when the comm on his desk blips, and the tinny voice is just loud enough to get his attention over things like terribly thought-out biology.

(Everything in you is screaming for an Alpha to help, touch, soothe. It’s not really your fault.)

“If you’re asleep, don’t get up. We’re just going to drop off pizza and we’ll be out of your Perch-”

Which is nothing short of fucking horrific.

“Almost goddit, Dickie,” is lost when another sharp cramp makes him huddle further into the pain rippling over his upper body while his brain screams to just fucking move.

The scent of slick gets stronger, clogging up the room, and the door isn’t even locked–

The next cramp makes his muscles flutter, but he can wobbly-leg it to the door and collapse in front of it.

(I was stabbed in the fucking spleen and still saved Pru. Without Ra’s, I would have been dead soon after, but if I can do that, I can get through this.)

He flips a small panel on the door frame and presses his thumb into it, forehead braced on the wall while he grits his teeth and gets a second or two of his muscles easing back.

Tim focuses on breathing, listening, and sure enough, there’s a timid knock a few minutes later. The door knob wiggles once softly, nearly inaudible voices mumble back and forth while he holds his breath.

He thinks he might be in the clear when it goes quiet again, thinking maybe they’d gone to dump the pizza in his fridge and be on their way out.

But a very clear, “do you smell what I smell?” is the proverbial nail in his coffin.

**

“Timmy? Are you…awake?”

“Please go away, I’m…I’m trying to sleep.” Tim tries again, more desperate now that hearing his Alphas’ voices is hitting all the deep places in him where the Omega hides.

“Don’t smell like it, Sweets. Think maybe ya mighta forgot ta mention something ta yer Alphas?”

(You aren’t mine. This is just about fucking Pack dynamics and bullshit biology. It’s fine, he gets it.)

“Hey,” and Dick’s voice is low and loud enough to be heard, and Tim slaps a hand over his mouth so he doesn’t whimper. “It’s okay. It’s us, Tim. We can make it better if you just open the door. You know we can, don’t you.”

It really isn’t a question, and Dick doesn’t pretend to make it one.

His abdomen spasms and he’s rolling his forehead against the wall in denial because fuck, haven’t they done enough? He’s not going to die, and, seriously, he’s a shitty Omega anyway.

“It’s not Heat Mania,” he tries to be reasonable, proud of himself when his voice only cracks once or twice, “I can get through it by myself this time. Y-You two just gave up five days a few weeks ago.”

The hand goes back over his mouth and his boxers are getting wet now, the way he’s curled in on himself probably not helping the situation.

Voices talking too low for him to make out again.

“Seriously, it’s fine. You guys got me out of danger. This? This is just business as usual. B is out of Gotham and you can’t be here for that long–”

“–B called in the Birds of Prey ta help out while he’s out wid’ the League,” Jay breaks through his ramblings. “We got Rob n’ BG. Cass is in fer a visit, and a trio of ass kickers. Ya ain’t gotta worry ‘bout Gotham, Timmers. Shit’s all kinds a handled.”

The door knob wiggles again, making him gasp because shit, if anyone could crack his fingerprint locks, it’s probably the Red Hood.

“So. That’s not an excuse to go through your Heat alone,” Dick cuts in, sounds more ragged and raw, the Pack Alpha coming out in him. “There’s honestly no reason for you to go through it by yourself at all because your Pack is supposed to take care of you. And we are here to do just that, Tim.”

And fuck he does (and doesn’t) want to.

(It really is going to hurt like a motherfucker when it’s all over with, isn’t it?)

And while Tim Drake could give them a hundred different excuses, could explain it away a hundred different ways

(“I don’t want my Omega to get used to having Alphas. That just makes my Heats more difficult. Please understand.”)

–he, Tim, not the Omega, really doesn’t want to.

(Oh yeah. He’s figuratively fucked. Literally fucked to possibly follow.)

He’s already reaching up to thumb at the panel again before he realizes what he’s doing and pauses, sighs at his own weakness.

And like they can feel him hesitate, the heavy musk finally gets to him from under the door. The combination of Dick and Jay and the Alpha instinct to soothe.

“Please, Timmy, Baby. Please let us in.” Dick says to the door, hands braced on the door frame outside, staring a hole right through the damn thing because he really wants to say is please let us love you.

Jay is nudged tightly against his back, peering over his shoulder with those precious few inches of extra height.

“S’all right, Timmers,” Jay’s deep voice rolls past his ear when his second leans over to talk closer, simultaneously sliding a hand over Dick’s hip, finger making soothing circles around the bone. “Ya know we love it when yer all pretty n’ pink fer us, yeah? Heat makin’ ya bite yer lip n’ flutter yer eyes when we get ta touch. N’ ya know how much we like it, don’t cha? Ya know it don’t matter how long it needs ta be, ‘er how much needin’ ya got saved up inside. Ya know the only thing what matters is how perfect ya are under our hands n’ mouth, yeah?”

Dick smirks at the tactic, turning just enough to get close to Jay’s face and shove their mouths together in a quick kiss.

His mate and second just grins right back, his down ‘n dirty one.

“Wadda ya say, Sweets? Gonna have mercy on these two ole’ Alphas? Let us be good, n’ take care a’ ya like we oughta?”

There’s a low noise, something muffled by the door, but Dick’s muscles tighten against the front of Jay’s body, putting the other Alpha right on point.

“Sounds like–” pain.

Jay just nods, staring intently at the door, fingers tapping over the hilt of this .45 like he’s thinking of taking the easy way inside. “Starting up awful fast, ain’t he, Alpha?”

“Leslie said something about double Heats while his body is getting back under control,” Dick reminds him absently. “I’m hoping this is the only one he’s experienced so far.”

Jay hums a little, “you n’ me both. Don’t like ‘im hittin’ two ina month. Too much strain.”

“Agreed, but we–” and Dick gets cut off by the sudden, powerful scent hitting them right in the instincts. The Alpha in them knows what a spike that sudden means.

Dick turns to make one last plea to the door, please, Baby, you don’t have to do this alone, before they would have to go. If Tim was that adamant, they wouldn’t hack the door to get to him, to force him to accept them during his Heat, but if he caught their scents, it could make the cycle more painful (“The inner Omega will pine for an Alpha. Scents will not help, but make the [sic] situation worse. An Alpha should vacate the premises if an Omega in Heat does not belong to him or her”). To keep it from being so much worse, they’d have no choice but the leave.

The possibility sticks in Dick’s throat, makes Jay rumble out a low whine.

But the telltale click resounds, kills the words in Dick’s mouth before they get out.

It’s a breath when he and Jay step over the threshold, kneel by the (their) pained Omega, warm hands and soothing touches, purring a low reverberation that makes Tim’s spine uncurl when Dick gathers him up and lifts. Jay is back with more Gatorade and power bars, throwing off his jacket and holsters while Dick kicks off his shoes and straddles Tim on the bed, leans closer to start kneading out the muscle spasms and nuzzling against Tim’s throat gently, soothingly.

“Ssshh, sshh, it okay Timmy. We’re here.” And Dick tilts his head just a little so his throat is visible and his scent gland right there if Tim wanted to give him and bury his face there.

(He totally does. Stupid fucking instincts.)

And Dick’s hands are warm, the pressure just enough to work out those muscles, to make the pain ease down. At one point, Tim had wrapped a hand around Dick’s forearm to have something grounding.

“You don’t have to do this,” is low and soft, “it isn’t going to be bad this time. Just a normal Heat. I can handle it. I have handled it.”

Jay takes a knee beside the bed, reaches over to direct Tim’s gaze with a forefinger under his chin. “Timmers,” is more stern than he’s used to hearing from the Red Hood, “like me n’ Dickie dunno how much ya can handle? Like we dunno how much ass ya can kick? C’mon, give us a little credit, yeah?”

Tim’s eyes get more dazed with all the stimulus hitting him right in the Omega instincts, blinking hazily at Jay kneeling there. “Seriously, I’m a shitty Omega, and neither of you need this. It’s bad enough you gave up a week already this month.”

“I told you,” Dick counters serenely, hands pausing, “that you are not a bad Omega. I would have thought during your last Heat you would have gotten that.”

They can both see Tim swallow, his eyes dart away, clearly disbelieving but not calling them on their bullshit.

Dick’s inner Alpha curls around his insides, wanting nothing more than to flop on the pretty Omega and pin him down until he cries uncle and finally believes in them, wants nothing more than to stick his nose in the sweet scent gland and never move, wants to hear Tim say it, just once–

“I’m yours, aren’t I Alpha?”

–but there’s no room for that yet. Not here, not now. Someday soon when Tim stopped giving into his instincts to hide and protect himself. Even if the Omega in him had accepted their Alphas, it still drew back, remembered the pain they both caused at one time or another.

And Dick understood. As Pack Alpha, he can scent more keenly, as a detective, he can put all the evidence together with the spikes of adrenaline, the quickening of a pulse, the flinch when certain things are brought up in casual conversation.

(Someday, he thinks fiercely, nuzzling into Tim’s jugular, while the knots under his hands ease down, you are going to forgive us, and everything is going to finally be okay.)

He huffs a little when Jay kneels by the bed, hands folded to rest his chin and watch. Timmy’s head flops over, the lines around his eyes still prominent with pain and the ingrained struggle not to just give in, and Jay trails his fingers lightly over the hand fisted in the sheets.

“Hey, hey. S’all right now, ain’t it, Baby?” He keeps it low and deep, lets it end on a nice purr. Inching the hand over, closer to his mouth, “an’ ta think, y’ weren’t gonna let me n’ Dickie here fer this? Tryin’ ta punish us, are ya?”

“Wh-What?! What are you even–”

Dick’s hand on his shoulder stops Baby Bird from sitting up, his cheeks gettin’ pink ‘cause he get all embarrassed ‘bout it.

(And fuck ain’t it cute.)

Big Wing smirks a little and leans up, gives Jay some room. He takes all he can, rising up on his knees, turning his jaw a little so his musk is stronger, getting fuller.  He gets to wrap a palm around that wrist, pinning it lightly when he hovers over Tim’s wide eyes, makes him face this, face him, face them.

“Ya already know it, don’t cha, Timmy?” Low and growly against his mouth, flick of a tongue over his bottom lip, “how much ya make us want, yeah?”

And since Jason Todd is a man what knows how Tim reacts to being touched, how he gets so sweetly slick and ready, how needy and soft he can whine, knows that as much as Timmy says he don’t need this, need them, his body don’t agree with it.

It’s how he n’ Dickie can tell when Timmy is lyin’ ‘cause it’s the Omega what tells them the truth.

It’s why Jay can purr and nuzzle, can lean in and take his mouth like he owns it. When Tim makes a noise, arches his back, Jay knows Dick is mouthing at him, right below where his palms are rubbing, licking the line between boxers and skin.

Pullin’ back just makes Timmy chase his mouth, eyes half-mast and cheeks just the right shade of pink.

“See that, Sweetheart? How pretty y’ are? An’ ya weren’t gonna let us be here fer it? ‘M hurt over here.” And he purrs against the tendon in Tim’s neck, just the sharp edge of teeth teasing down to his collarbone.

“Th-that’s not–!”

“But it is, Timmy,” Dick fills in soothingly, mouthing at the waistband of his boxers. “You weren’t going to let us have this.”

“Dammit that isn’t–”

“Sshh,” and Jay presses a kiss back to his throat, right below the scent gland, “s’all right. We f’give ya, Sweets. ‘Cause we’re here now, and that’s what matters, you feel me?”

Tim finds it in him to brace a hand against Jay’s shoulder, pushing him back just enough to be able to think around the heat pooling in his stomach, lighting his body with need.

“It isn’t like that!” He tries, he really does, stares into those eyes with green flecks faded away. “It–this–it’s just!”

Dick finally seems to have enough, knee walking up so he and Jay could loom over the squirming Omega, both of them facing him down.

“At first, it was because of the Heat Mania, Timmy,” Dick’s voice is low and firm, “but it stopped being about that for me in the first five minutes.”

Jay purrs at him softly, “like I’d keep comin’ back ta ya if’n it was only ‘cause a’ biology, Timmers. Like you think I don’t see this fine as fuck ‘Mega right ‘chere needin’ an Alpha? Like I don’t want a piece a’ ya?”

That is...so not what he anticipated tonight once he’d given the Alphas an appropriate out. The admission makes his heart thump painfully in his chest, a jolt of fear slithering through his brain pan at all the implications of this–

–that would fully set in later on after his body stops trying to literally kill him with sex.

Because it’s enough of a push, this moment when scents are so fucking sincere and they’re looking at him with heat and affection, and he wants so desperately to believe. It’s enough to make the Omega in him rear up past his barriers and bullshit masks, for the whine, the call to his Pack, to his Alphas, to spill out of his mouth without holding back.

Fuck.

Because even though it’s a rough, soft sound, something he’d never been able to let himself do before now, not with all the secrets he’d had to keep, it makes some of the tightness in his chest ease down to finally be able to let it out, let his instincts take over.

In the form of a whine, a call to his Alphas. His Omega could finally stop mourning being left out of the Pack.

So he’s completely unprepared for Dick and Jay to react so distinctly to that noise, for them to bury their faces in his throat and lick along both sides until the kiss of teeth along his collar bone becomes a bloom of pain and sinks deep into his subconscious. It’s not (and he gasps in a hard breath just thinking about it, about either of them biting down on the back of his neck instead…) to mate him or make him submit, it’s just marks made to show ownership, to show Pack, and his eyes might get a little hot and full with it while the Omega in him rolls over to show its’ belly to the (his) Alphas.  

And it’s something he’s been wanting for so long, the confirmation that he’s no longer the outcast, the Omega without a place. During the long road to come back to Gotham, back to the Bats, he hasn’t let himself sink into the depression that hit back when his tunic was yanked out from under him, leaving him hanging.

With the indents of teeth along his collarbone, with the distinct Alpha scent on his neck, the assurance he’s been claimed as their Pack Omega for anyone to see, is enough to make him close his eyes tight to keep from fucking crying. Instead, he distracts himself by lifting both arms around his Alphas to hold on while they lick across the indents of their teeth, soothing the sting.

He doesn’t let himself panic when they move on from marking him, when Jay is licking into his mouth and Dick’s hands are spreading his thigh, long-fingered hand cupping his straining erection.

He keens with it, back arching at the onslaught, his inner Omega sated with the marks on his body, languishing in the attention of his Alphas.

It’s so easy to fall under their spell, to put himself in their hands, and just give in. If they weren’t so damn careful and easy with him when he needs it that way, if they didn’t fuck him dirty and rough when it needed it that way instead, if they didn’t purr against his chest and lick at the marks, if they didn’t talk low against the back of his neck, if they didn’t hold the hell on when all he wanted to do is run.

Hands that know how to make him writhe, are busy smoothing up the sides of his thighs and over his abdomen, Jay and Dick trading places with his mouth. Thumbs make small circles on his nipples, makes them peak, makes the spark of pleasure shoot down his spine straight to his aching cock, while he keens in Dick's mouth.

“Uh-oh,” hazily gets through the heat pooling in his belly, in his blood, lighting his nerves on fire. “Looks like we have some competition, Jaybird.”

Fuck.

And Dick is leaning up on his knees, holding up the blue knotting dildo after he’d snatched it from the blankets, looking it over with a critically assessing expression–

Then those eyes slide over to the Omega spread out on the bed beneath them, the one smelling like a bakery, the one that needed him, needed them to take care of him.

“I told you, I can handle my Heats.” His face is going red and not because of the whole lot of naked happening beside the bed where Jay is stripping off the body suit.

“Mmhm,” and Dick widens his knees, spreading Baby Bird’s legs wider, puts the toy by his calf so he can be the one to use it on Timmy (and he is very interested on seeing how much of it his Omega can take before he’s screaming for the real deal).

The other Alpha’s eyes shoot to the subtly covered splash of red almost by the wall, and one brow quirks up as a side to the smirk on Jason Todd’s face.

“Dickie. Ya’ thinking what I’m thinking?”

“If it’s to fuck him with these things until he cries, then yes. I’m on board with that plan, Little Wing.”

“Good t’ see we’re on’a same page, you feel me here?”

The oldest vigilantes exchange a heated glance, the message clear from that look alone:

Time to teach Timmy a lesson and get to have him at the Same. Damn. Time.

Two Robins with one stone.

Jay is already crawling over Tim to lay on the other side while Dick moves fast, climbing off to shimmy out of his clothes until he’s in black briefs, coming right back to the perfect spot between the third Robin’s clenched thighs. He grins, already deciding on a plan, while Jay pins both wrists above their bird’s head, preparing him for the on-coming torture.

And when this cycle is done, when they’ve both had turns teasing him between waves with the toys he’d purchased, fucking him fast and rough or slow and soft until their knots throbbed to be buried in him, when they’ve made Tim give in to them, over and over, made him beg for their cocks, promised to always call next time no matter what.  When he’s so overwork, overstimulated, a trembling, babbling, crying pile of please fuck me before I die.

When they make the lesson stick.

(“Never gonna need ‘em again. Ya gotch us, n’ ya better damn well call b’for ya use it again. Do you feel me, Baby?”

“These are last resort only, Tim. You only get to use these after you’ve called both of us and not because of a case or checking in on Gotham.”

He’d only been stupidly grateful all three of them could fit in his tub at the time, water lapping lazily around him, caught on Jay’s lap with his leg in Dick’s, hands on his ankle and calf under the water. He was dozing and utterly fucking destroyed, which is the only reason he agreed to it in the first place, dammit. They took advantage of fucking him completely out.

(Alphas. Of fucking course.)

But this time, after they’d been so fucking thorough in showing him where his place with them really is, Red Robin can’t help but wonder if it’s more than just a bunch of Alphas taking care of the Pack Omega. If all the sweet things Dick growls in his ear is more than just hormones and Pack Alpha lizard brain. He wonders if Jay’s dirty talk doesn’t stem from some messed up sense of guilt or responsibility from back when they were just, you know, trying to kill one another. Or, Jay was trying to kill him and Red was really just trying not to die.

He wonders if it isn’t just a matter time until his body regulates.

He wonders if they know what they’re doing to him when they act like he’s theirs.

He wonders how far they’re going to go.

(A part of him is terrified to find out.)

[blackmilshake]

ALONE part two ||H.S

Requested:

PLEASE MAKE A PART 2 OF ALONE WHERE HE WRITES SONGS ABOUT HER AND THEY GET BACK TOGETHER

Part 2 to alone with a happy ending pls? So good! :)

Hi lovie! make a part 2 of Alone? Xxx

part 2 of alone :))

SUMMARY: Harry and you had drifted apart, and you felt so alone in the relationship that you broke up with him and he has never felt so bad. Also he got the flu.

A/N: I am SO sorry it has taken me this long, I have been so busy with college and everything. I love the surgeries and requests. I really hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. The sing is Sweet Creature, by our beloved Harry Styles.

Word count: +20k

Part one:

http://blackmilkshake.tumblr.com/post/173822219567/alone-hs

It was the night before your birthday, and it was the first time in five years since you met Harry he wouldn’t be there with you. He had felt miserable; he hadn’t left his flat since the last time you were there. He hadn’t talked to anyone. It’s been two weeks, the longest two weeks of his life. And nobody had contacted him either. Thinking he was already on his trip and needed his concentration.

He thought he couldn’t feel any worst until the reminder of your birthday appeared in his lock screen, it was 10:00 pm and he actually got sick. He had eaten Thai that night, all to be thrown up a couple of hours later.

He brushed his teeth, and drank some tea.

His legs were shaking slightly and he probably had the fever. On the top of everything he had gotten the flu.

He looked at the papers on his desk. Two days ago he had been humming your favourite song. Then he felt like he needed to write about you. So there laid three different scratches of three different songs, all made for you. He sat there and started to fix some things in his journal, or the last two pages of it. Two weeks had been enough for him to almost fill it all.

He ran his hand through his messy hair and let a tear fall down, the drop in the middle of the page.

Sweet creature Had another talk about where it's going wrong But we're still young We don't know where we're going But we know where we belong

Harry had seen in a picture of your best friend’s Instagram that they were throwing you a party in her apartment. There were balloons and many of your friends that he had seen in pictures before but never met in person. And there were so many people he didn’t recognize. It felt odd to him because you had always left your birthdays just for him. Now he sees all you’ve been missing because of him.

And oh we started Two hearts in one home It's hard when we argue We're both stubborn I know, but oh

Harry took the picture of the two of you that was next to his bed. It was in Paris, on your third birthday together, and you were smiling so big. But you were smiling really big in that picture of your friend’s Instagram as well. He couldn’t possible survive another day without that smile. It has been the longest you two have been without talking. It didn’t felt right. He didn’t feel like himself. He missed your sweet smile in front of him, your giggles and loud laugh.

Sweet creature, sweet creature Wherever I go, you bring me home Sweet creature, sweet creature When I run out of road, you bring me home

He was keeping himself from running back to you that moment. He wanted you to be happy, and was trying to understand that even you were the best thing that could have ever happened to him, he wasn’t the best thing for you.

Sweet creature Running through the garden, oh, where nothing bothered us But we're still young I always think about you and how we don't speak enough

He tried to process that you were so done it got to the point when you couldn’t be with him. And he remembered one of your last fights, when he had left you waiting in a restaurant for hours.

*

“I can’t believe you didn’t have the time to call me, just a call to tell me you weren’t coming. That’s it.”

“I was busy” Harry had answered simply, shrugging, not really being sorry.

“So was I, and I took my time to be with you, Harry.”

“You knew what you were getting yourself into, I have a life.” He spatted, annoyed at you and raising he volume of the TV. You had had enough for a day, your work day in the hospital had been rough enough and you thought that maybe sometime with Harry would help, if he had only shown up.

“I knew it would be hard, I knew I would have people’s eyes on us all the freaking time, that you would be gone for months. What I didn’t know was that I would be the only one fighting for us, that it would be just me at the end of the day, not physically, emotionally. Cause you are here, you have me here, we haven’t properly talked in days, yet you choose some TV rubbish over us, cause it’s no me, it’s us.”

And you left him there, but he took it as some overreaction from you. Which deep down he knew it wasn’t. He only wanted you when he wanted to, most of the time he was somewhere else.

But he really loved you.

He was just taking you for granted, assuming you had to be there for him, waiting, loving him.

*

It was all his fault. He knew it, and he couldn’t forgive himself for it. He finished up the lyrics and when to the bathroom to take a quick shower as he felt this temperature raising even more.

He saw his reflection, he looked pale and huge bags under his eyes. He didn’t know whether those backs were from crying or just how bad he felt with the flu symptoms all over his body, maybe both.

A wave of rage ran through his body as he saw a picture of you laughing with a guy in one of the Instagram stories.

He didn’t notice when he got dressed, your favorite suit of him on.

He left his misery, drove across town and got to the party held only for you.

It was 00:00 sharp and he got just in time to see your friends sing you happy birthday. He stood there, at the end of the room, singing slowly. Smiling at you.

“Don’t forget your wish” He murmured.

That’s when you saw him. Standing there, your favorite suit on him. His hair a little mess.

And you made your wish, blowing the candles, making everyone shout.

Your hands cold, and trembling.

Had you just imagined Harry there?

The cake was being cut and they didn’t need you there, so you went to the main door.

“Happy birthday, beautiful. You look breath-taking.” He whispered in your ear, making you jump.

“Harry?” You looked at him, eyes big. He smelled so good.

Then he sneezed, making you giggle.

“Bless you.” You saw him blush. Then you remembered. You two were no longer together.

“What are you doing here?”

The question had to be asked, Harry knew that, but he didn’t expect it to feel so heavy on his chest.

“It’s your birthday, sugar, I could never miss it”

You wanted to act tough, make him leave. But he came, he was there. He should be in that island, yet he was there. But the question was... Was it too late?

“I have something for you.” His voice deeper than usual, his eyes looking directly into your soul.

“Harry...”

“It’s nothing you can use, it’s something you can remember tho. Come with me?”

He said mysteriously and took your hand in his, asking you to follow him. And you would have followed him to the end of the world.

“Ok.”

What are you doing? He is your ex. You thought.

He took you to the roof, smiling nervously, there laid the guitar. He took his jacket of and put it in your shoulders, giving you a quick kiss in your forehead. Even when he was sick, feeling like trash, he wanted you to be fine.

And ohhhh, we started Two hearts in one home I know it's hard, we argue We're both stubborn, I know But oh Sweet creature, sweet creature Wherever I go, you bring me home Sweet creature, sweet creature When I run out of road, you bring me home And ohhh, when we started Just two hearts in one home It gets harder when we argue We're both stubborn, I know But oh Sweet creature, sweet creature Wherever I go, you bring me home Sweet creature, sweet creature When I run out of road, you bring me home

You bring me home

He was looking deeply into your eyes, trying to read your thoughts, but it had always been hard for him, you seemed so calmed all the time, you were so hard to read. Tears were running freely and rapidly down your cold cheeks.

He finished singing, nervous, his voice giving up so many times, his body aching and the fever rising, the cold air hitting him making his head spin, but he didn’t care. He wanted you back. He wanted to make all different.

He left the guitar aside. And you pulled him closer. Tears running like cascades down your cheeks. You missed him, you regretted leaving him before you even did. But it seemed the right thing, it still seemed to you like the right thing, but why didn’t it feel like it? When his arms around you made you feel the safest, the most powerful woman to ever exist. But the times you have felt so alone still lingered as a bitter taste in your mouth.

“What do you think about it, kitten?”

“You are extremely talented, you don’t need to be reminded that, Edward. Thank you, but I think you should get go...”

“Please, don’t, don’t make me leave you, cause I can’t. You are my all, I’m nothing but a broken shitty famous person without you, you make me a better man. And being alone was never hard before I met you” Harry whispered the last par with the voice he had left, coughing at the end of it, and you worried.

You got closer and raised your hand to touch his burning forehead, your heart sank to your gut, you wanted him to be fine, healthy, happy, cause he deserved it, he was such a good man.

“Harry, you’re burning with fever!” You gasped. And that’s when you noticed how red his nose was and his face pale, his lips almost purple, huge gray bags under his puffy eyes.

How could he still manage to look so good.

You took his hand in yours, and felt how cold they were, slightly shaking.

“Let’s get you out of here” you shook your head and took his jacket out and put it back in his arms. He was protecting you even when he was sick, it was a small yet so powerful action, that it reminded you of when you just started to date him.

You took him to your best friend’s flat, everyone was either eating cake or dancing at the loud song playing in the background, blue, red and green lights everywhere and you could almost feel sick for Harry. You guided him to the guest room.

“Sit here, please.”

Harry wanted to be answered. You didn’t make a comment about your actual status with him. Yet he let you treat him.

You ran out of the room, only to be back with a bowl of cold water and pills, then went outside again and brought a huge glass of water.

“Have you gone to the doctor?” She asked, almost knowing the answer.

“You’re my doctor.” He said harshly, coughing, to which you rolled your eyes.

“How long have you been like this?”

“For almost three days or so.” He said vaguely.

She put a sticky thermometer on his head that soon read the temperature with red numbers 39.7 °c.

Her worried expression couldn’t be hidden and she was mad, mad at him for not taking care of himself.

“Your fever is really high. Have you had any medication?”

He shook his head no. Watching as her lips formed a tight line. He felt ashamed, and sad for making you worry on your birthday, but somehow he felt relieved, relieved that you still cared enough for you to get that bothered.

“Any other symptoms?”

“Headache, and I’ve thrown up, twice”

“Any idea why?”

“The headache was kinda bad, I guess that caused the vomiting, but the headache probably the lack of sleep if I’m being honest, petal”

His words hurt her, how could he be so careless about his health.

“Take this.” You handed him a pill that would make the fever go down, that was the first thing you needed to treat. She took a small towel and deep it in the cold water, and then in his forehead.

“You need to take more care of yourself, Ed. Your health is not a game”

“I love you, kitten, I love you with everything in me, please, take me back.” He said with some difficulty, ignoring your previous words.

You didn’t like the way your heart was pounding in your chest, nor how much your lips longed his, or the way the song he made for you still lingered in your head, making your stomach feel funny.

But you hated the thought of this being just an apology and then feeling alone again.

“Only if you promise you won’t become that distant again, that you’ll actually fight for us. Not just me. Because if I find myself alone in this relationship, I am leaving for good.”

Tears fell down Harry’s eyes. The second chance he needed.

“I promise petal, now I need you to promise me something.”

“What is it?”

“Promise you’ll say yes.”

“Yes?”

He took the red velvet box out of his pocket and opened, there stood a beautiful ring.

“I felt in love with you after hearing you laugh, I fell for you harder everyday, and I still do, I love you so much it scares me sometimes, you are my motivation to keep going everyday, to wake up and thing that I will be with you at the end of the day. I knew you were the one the moment we kissed. I love you for every single thing you do, every single thing you say. I love you even when I am mad at you. I cannot find the words to describe how much you mean to me. You are my everything, and I want to wake up next to you everyday, be the reason of your laughs and happy tears, the father of our 24 babies, grow old with you by my side. So, my question is... Would you marry me, petal?”

Tears escaped your eyes as you nodded., completely speechless, you were so happy ans shocked you could do anything but nod aggressively.

“Yes!” You managed to let out, utterly happy.

And you kissed him, not really caring about getting the flu, wanting to feel his sweet lips in yours.

And he never let you feel abandoned ever again.

[mcrmadness]

Bit of anxiety related stuff once in a while...

It’s been a while since I’ve written here and I think the next time is now.

WARNING: Long post is long........................................ *sigh*

It’s the worst time of the year for me here in Finland atm. The seasons change, the darkest time of the year. Here during the darkest months (basically) the day is is just a few hours long (like... 6-8?) and the rest of the day is just dark after dark. The worst part for me is always the time after Christmas and before the days start to really get more bright and when we start to finally get those sunny days. So it’s rare to even see the whole damn sun during this time even tho it’s light outside. It’s still not bright. (And when February and the sun finally arrive, it’s good for my mind but bad for my head as I start to get more headaches and sometimes also migraines just because of how bright everything is.)

Seasonal Affective Disorder is a thing over here and that’s what affects me also, I treat it with “bright light therapy” which mean I have this bright light thingy at home and I have to sit in front of it. It really does help (it simulates sunlight) but the polar night is never easy for me. Especially when I don’t have enough time for that light as I ALWAYS start to sleep less even tho I’m more tired than during summer. I guess getting up in the morning just annoys me so much that I think to myself the morning comes slower if I go to sleep later. And it’s also making everything worse as I’m so tired 24/7 yet I feel like I just don’t have enough free time in 24 hours and I just keep procrastinating everything.

This also always makes my health anxiety worse and atm it’s pretty bad. I’m really anxious and tense 24/7, the darker it gets, the worse it gets. It does not leave me alone during the daytime either, but somehow the nights are just the worst. I have this congenital heart defect that was operated when I was 3 years old, it’s fine and I don’t need meds but I just need to have it checked every two year. And this is exactly the same situation as it was 2 years ago when I had the check last time. It always gets so worse because I feel like 2 years is so long time and anything is possible. I can’t trust my own body because in my mind I live my life as if I was sick at some part of my body. It changes over time and by whhere I’ve feeling these “symptoms”. But right now my heart is the number one. It has always been somewhere back there in my life and I’ve been to therapy for a year now and now we talk about it as a possible post-traumatic stress disorder caused by my heart surgery. I feel like it defines my whole life. In reality, competitive sports are the only thing that is prohobited for me but it’s okay because I’ve never liked sports. And I start to feel bad about just normal sport (nothing heart related, just the overall feeling of it. I can’t stand heat and I hate sweating and it makes me feel sick. There’s been only one time in my life when sports have caused me to feel the rush of endorphin but usually it just feels bad as I’m a HSP / Higly Sensitive Person.) But the problem here is that my mind doesn’t understand the difference and it thinks I’m mortally ill. Like, I constantly feel like I shouldn’t do this or that because I’m ill and it could kill me. When in reality I’m not ill. Hypochondria, you could say...

It’s really tiring to be this sensitive about your own body functions. And even if I don’t feel anything different I still WAIT for something to happen. I’m just alarmed 24/7, ready to panic and do something if needed. Usually I just go to my parents’ house “to be observed” or try to talk to my siblings and so. I feel like it’s mixture of everything. Bit like OCD but instead of being afraid of illnessess I could get from somewhere, I’m afraid of illnessess that appear out of nowhere _inside of you. The idea of not being able to control your own body is so scary. Your own body could kill you and it’s scary as hell. It’s so scary that I procrastinate about shower and sleeping because I feel like those places are where I’m the most vulnerable. I haven’t showered in couple of days because only time to do so is in the evening (except when I have a day off) and that’s when I get tired and also most anxious and I can’t take a shower because I’m so afraid of my own body and those panic attacks that it’s easier to not go there and just sit here waiting for the possible panic attack, than take a shower and have a panic attack and then try to be as fast as possible because how embarrassing it would be if I needed emergency and I’d be naked when they find me. It’s easier to be fully clothed if needed to leave fast than to be in shower. I’ve also slept couple of days on my cough because falling asleep is scary, or the moment when everything is quiet and it’s just you and your own body and you feel every damn heart beat, every palpation and every beat that is normal, but for some reason it feels through the whole body as if the whole body was shaking to those beats. It’s easier to watch tv and fall asleep “accidentally” when you’re concentrated on something else.

It’s bit like the years 2006/2007 all over again. I had really hard time because of my heart. Only way to me to deal with it was to concentrate on My Chemical Romance’s music and dvd. I shit you not when I tell that I listened to them and watched that goddamned dvd every damn day, literally I heard them 24/7. It helped me to concentrate on something else than my own anxiety. It was all heart related, I was 15 and it was my last class at school and I was so burnt out because of the whole school, I had really hard time sleeping because I was afraid to fall asleep because I was so afraid that I would die in my sleep, I slept with light on so it’s was not only darkness I saw with my eyes closed. In the end I got over it in one night when I realized I was so burnt out and stressed out that I started reacting to that with my body. It tried to tell me to clam the fuck down, to sleep and take days off, I felt it in my heart because it was the only way my body felt it could tell me to stop beating myself up. Even tho I had already given up, I didn’t go to school or anything but it was so bad every day because every morning I knew I SHOULD HAVE GONE and I knew the next day someone would say me that I should go to school, they would call us from the school to tell how I really should be there. I don’t think I got any sick leave either so it was really hard for my diligent personality to have again and again and again one day off school when I basically did that “illegally” and it made me feel even worse even tho I was so tired that my mornings started when I couldn’t sleep anymore as I had already woken up and my heart said hello to me so I got up and with my blanked I always sat down next to the living room’s radiator and I just kept crying because I wasn’t able to leave to school today either.

This is not so bad as back the whole situation was, as now I’m not forced to do anything, but just the way the seasons change affect my mood and anxiety is pretty annoying. It has always changed over time, some years are worse than others but it always gets better somewhere around February or March. January is always really dark month for me, figuratively as well as literally.

I think one reason this gets this bad every second year is the fact I probably start to stress the heart check. (It’s just EKG and ultrasound so nothing huge.) At the same time I’m relieved it’s finally here but also I’m afraid to hear if there’s something wrong. It’s really hard with this type of health anxiety because I don’t really know what I even except. I hope everything is okay but... when it is, it feels good for a while but I know the anxiety will always come back so at the same time it’s not actually that relieving because I know the physical/psychosomatic symptoms will come back eventually. Sooner or later I start to experience palpations and in my head I start to live as something was wrong inside of my body. When everything is okay it’s relieving but I can’t help it, in my head I also always immediately start to question the doctor. What if they just missed something serious? The ultrasound was so quick, how could they see everything in that time? Also my heart NEVER skips a beat or has palpations during EKG or ultrasound. NEVER, I always tell them I have them but they never show up during those tests!!! Atm another big thing for me probably is the fact this time there’s different doctor than what I’ve had ever since I started seeing cardiologists specialized to adult hearts. And as I haven’t seen this cardiologist ever before it of course scares me to hear her thoughts on everything and also I’m afraid if she will notice something the other one never did. If she uses the ultrasound for longer time? What if she sees something new there? What if her opinions differ from the other’s opinions a lot? It’s so scary. 

For me, I have trust issues. I feel the same about my heart as I do with my car when I’ve took it to checkup: it was okay by now but did they check everything properly and few months before the next checkup I’m terrified because I’m afraid something might have broken up after the previous checkup and what if my car randomly catches fire or explodes. With my heart, I start to feel “symptoms” that could be severe and with my car I start to smell smoke when there’s no smoke. Nothing is more terrifying than driving long distances and sensing something that causes so horrible panic attack that you will sit so tensed for the rest of the day. Last week I had one, this time about my heart and I was so afraid something would happen and it was dark and in Finland there’s forests between cities and I was so afraid something would happen to me while I’m in the middle of nowhere when it’s pitch black everywhere and if no one finds me. I felt better everytime I saw someone driving behind me because I knew they would notice if something went wrong. But as soon as they drove past me, my anxiety got worse. It’s this “need of eyewitnesses” I have, I need someone to be around when I’m having a panic attack so there would be at least someone to do the emergency call if I can’t do it myself. So far I’ve never done one and I’ve never been to hospital because of my “symptoms” because I’m too deep into this mental illness shit that I keep telling me everything is me just being mental yet at the same time I’m afraid of the thought “what if it is not?” I don’t want to go to hospital just because of my psychosomatic things, it’s be so embarrassing and also there’s real sick people that need their help and I don’t want to waste their time with my bullshit when someone could actually die over there.

I so hope I get to see a psychiatrist soon enough. I still haven’t got any of this diagnosed but I feel like I need SOMETHING because right now I kinda can’t fully believe it’s all just psychosomatic because I has this belief in my mind that I can’t be mentally ill if I don’t have papers for it. Havening it written down would be best thing in the world. I think it would actually make me feel much better than a cardiologist saying “everything is alright”. When obviously SOMETHING is not right SOMEWHERE. Maybe in my body there’s nothing wrong but in my mind there’s so many things so fucked up that I feel like a complete mess. I guess it’s like having papers all over your desk and floor but no one gave you the empty folders where to put them into. I feel that I need those folders so I can arrange my papers and finally have some kind of peace when I know at least something in my mind might finally be in order. I don’t know if it would work like this but I believe it would help, even a little. Actually I think it would make me feel better about myself because right now I feel like I have no right to be who I am because I always am told that I can’t be this and that if I don’t have it diagnosed. Or people ask why you always have to have something wrong when I say something about wanting to have a diagnose. It’s not me wanting something to be wrong but me wanting to name something I already have. Imagine that legs and arms didn’t have any names and try then to tell people that you have these four things, “maybe two of them could be legs but I’m not really sure as no one has really told me what they are so I guess they’re legs but I just hope someone would name them so I didn’t feel so weird walking on two sticks that might or might nor be called legs...”

At least in my country being mentally ill is kinda... taboo? Like, here’s LOTS AND LOTS of us but people are easily ashamed of it and it’s something you don’t really discuss. People don’t wanna talk but even less they wanna hear. For some reason it’s something that is really... awkward subject. And often it feels like people start to see you through their prejudice even if they had known you for years. As if it would change the person. Only thin there has changed is that this other person now knows something they didn’t know 2 seconds ago. Yet the whole person can turn very awkward as if they no longer knew how to act around you. I just would like to have things diagnosed and to be able to tell people about these things that are part of me without being judged by something they don’t even know any facts about.

So my point here was that I meant to take a shower today but I'm too tired and tensed and overstimulated (HSP) that I couldn’t do that even today, so I have to take a shower in the morning. I anyway have therapy tomorrow, so... This Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) has also got to this point now where I wouldn’t bother washing my dished either. I should cook something tomorrow but I don’t really think I can manage and do that tomorrow. I should do the dishes first and... nah. But with days like these I always try to tell myself it’s okay to not feel good everyday. It’s okay to be tired and if I don’t manage the dishes, then I don’t. Then I do it the other day but I don’t make it somethig to stress about because it’s just bunch of tableware and not so big deal. I’ll do them eventually but if today’s not the day, then it isn’t and it’s okay. 

Btw, talking of MCR, bit over a week ago they uploaded outtake versions of each of their music videos to YT and I watched all of them of course. Well, some of them actually made my anxiety to go away. But some of them, those who I associate with the dvd Life on the Murder Scene the most, actually caused the anxiety to get worse. For the next couple of days I felt the crippling anxiety in my stomach every time I thought about the videos. I guess it was because the last time I’ve actually seen anything about those videos was when I had this rough break down when I was 15/16 and even tho it felt bad watching those, I still watched them. I guess it was bit like violently tearing open the old (mental) wounds. And I have a lot of mental wounds, tbh. I think there’s a lot I have never actually dealth with any of them the way they should be taken care of. I just got so used to negative experiences I took them but just... buried them somewhere and now they’re popping up as memories like some old haunting ghosts. I feel like my whole life is like a sea of old ghosts and that I should go and talk to each of them separately to make them feel better about themselves...

Idk. There’s just so many thoughts right now. Or that’s bit wrong actually, I have always too many thoughts goind around in my head. It never stops. I don’t really know how to start dealing with all this but I feel like by writing this, some of those “papers” in that metaphor back there have already found their places. It’s possible that the shelf containing all those “files”also will be never ending shelf, but I still feel that it’s be better to have those papers in files in a shelf than to have them piling up around you until you drown in them.

Now, I think I go and try to sleep. This wall of text actually made me feel a slightly better already. I just hope somewhere in this world would be something or someone who would have time for things like these. In therapy there’s never enough time. Not even if there’d be some 24/7 therapy and if I get to be there for a week straight, I still think I’d feel like that I’ve not done yet. But anyway, this is enough, for now.

Thanks for reading, if there’s still anyone after this text ends.

[lostscatteredwings]

Retrospective 2019

 2020

A quick summary btw in 2018 I did rent an apartment. It was more money than I could afford but it was my big experience for that year. In 2019 I decided to focus more on other things that are more everlasting. 

In 2019 I had several goals :

Health

Health was my main goal. To focus a lot on my health. I was struggling in a lot of ways. Migraines, low energy levels, nails breaking, weak hair and weak skin, worried about my weight, lack of muscle, worried that I had some illness and just now know about it, pain in my back and neck. And shoulders . Frequent pain at that and frequent migraines. Also pain in my mouth as all my entire life I have frequent cavity issues or other issues even tho yes I do wash my teeth every day several times a day. 

I think I saved absolutely nothing in January and February as I was dealing with the eye doctor stuff. 

In order to resolve these issues I focused on my health since January. In January I started with going to see a doctor and explain all of my symptoms. My doctor said that the migraines could be caused because it had been a long time since I updated my glasses. So I started with that. I took my time and my money and invested in some updated glasses as I have myopia. 

Básically I cannot see very well in a distance. I can't see people's faces if they stand a few meters away from me and I can't see buses destinations because they get blurred  and the lights at night kind  of blurry my vision even more

This with no glasses. But the glasses fix it. 

I then proceeded to fix my teeth I had like 5 cavities to fix. I did all these repairs I did a cleaning, cleaning is not whitening btw is just a cleaning, to totally remove your tartare if you have some. Because removing that keeps it longer from cavities appearing or any sort of issues. 

Fixing my teeth took several months. I only finished fixing them in May 2019. Took money and time. When I was finally done with this big health fixes eyes and teeth are very essential. I could finally maybe spoil myself a bit. And at the same time focus on another health sector. 

I looked for a doctor for my back shoulder and neck pain. And I started doing this therapy for it. 

It didn't seem to help a lot. Just helped a bit but not a lot so I decided this was not enough. When you Google online people recommend you exercises. And I kept feeling sort of weak and worried about maybe lacking muscle and worried that I would only get fatter over time. I decided to join a gym. My gym has their own therapists so I changed my therapist to the gym one. 

I did feel much better. Going to the gym Vs not going is really different. At least for me with my current lifestyle. Because I live in a city it's polluted crowded and it's kind of annoying to workout outside you have to keep playing Tetris when running outside...I think the gym is much better and you can just put headphones on and run or walk or use some machine and it's like this alone time you have. And then you can shower immediately. In the gym I go you can also swim or do a sauna. It's great, if you can find the time to go. 

Though it’s a gym that I can only use because I am working and it’s a partnership with my company and even so it’s very expensive. But I think it’s worth it because of the mental and physical health benefits. The trade off is worth it right now.

After this, so post-May I have been really focusing also in changing my room a lot and I finally finished, I had furniture that was over 30 years old and that is not the problem, the problem is actually that furniture was totally falling apart, broken drawers, I was afraid my desk would fall on me and that my bed would fall to the floor. So every month I got one thing from IKEA and dedicated a weekend to build the IKEA furniture. And finally, I got all the main furniture that I wanted. 

And there is only one more achievement

I learned how to ride a motorcycle. I learned, now I know how to. But I don’t have the licence yet. The licence at least that allows you to drive model of motorcycles that exists.

 But I do have the car license that allows you drive the 125 cc , these ones go to 100 km/h . and I got myself a scooter, is the actual only vehicle that I actually own. 

These were my achievements for 2019.  Health. Gym. Ikea and  Motorcycle. This on my personal life side. This was also the year  I did the more travelling ever in life but also it was because I did very fast and travels, like weekend travels or 2 days travels.  I stopped by Toulouse and Bordeaux in southern France. The longest holiday I took was Luxembourg, but I also took a bus from Luxembourg to Germany since I was close to the border anyway. Something like 5 days. I had 2 days in Switzerland, a weekend. And Germany also 2 days in frankfurt. I am really proud of this year 2019. 

I also joined french classes. So for idk, a few months now, I have been having a french class every 1h and 30m every week. I have an exam in the day 13h January. 

These were mostly the achievements for the year. I think it was probably my best year so far. In my life. 

Yet there was bad things and yet I am not happy and yet I am not where I want to be. As bad things are also part of life.

Something I tried but failed to do was being less negative, I tend to take a very negative approach towards life. 

I have this super negative approach because of my life up until now because of my past but that is no excuse, I wanted to be more positive this year but I failed for a long time I wasn’t. And I was lost and confused and I tried thinking over and over how could I make everything better but because I could never really see a path, I kept feeling really down. And sadly as I side not I do have some anger issues, as a side effect of the negativity, the whole feeling depressed the not seeing a way out of a bad place in life.  I think after the gym things got a bit better. And when I finally drew a plan for my life I felt much better too. 

But ofc sometimes because of things that happen in my life, bad things, it drags me down sometimes again . But I’ve tried really hard to really not have any unnecessary discussions with people. And honestly, I did get better I did have way fewer fallouts with people. And my plan is to have zero from now on. For real. I still had some this year. But I think way less as the year went by. I think where I failed the most for sure was with people, sometimes. Honestly. But it is not a justification but was a really hard year, really eventful and stressful and I failed to handle it in the best way. My father was in the hospital. I got sick several times too. I had problems with my family I had problems with work and I had problems with my relationships and I had problems with public transport that is constant, even my scooter had problems I had to fix. There was just a lot of a lot. And I couldn’t deal with it all.

And even so I say this was the best year so far of my life. Up until now. But I hope that the years to come can be better still. 

When it comes to things I haven't done, that I wish I did, honestly I did all I could do in the time I had with resources I had, this when it comes to getting things done I couldn’t do more than what I did. Even if I wish I did more which I do wish I had done even more, I have to also be realistic and not that hard on myself. 

I have this problem, I want to do everything I want to get everything done. And I get stressed out if I don’t get things done. And it’s a bad cycle. But I just can’t sit and wait around and do nothing I have this need of seeing progress and things getting done it’s not healthy but it’s the way I feel satisfied also in a way, knowing that I did things that I didn’t waste my time. I did wish I could say no more. And that I could do more things for myself more. A problem I have is sometimes I should say no and I don’t because I don’t want to disappoint people. Sometimes I end up sort of causing myself trouble because I couldn't say no when I should really have said no. And that is why for example my work situation is really not good right now, it’s because I didn’t say no when I should have and now my every day is miserable. Great job, me. All I can do now is come up with a plan to fix that. And endure my everyday now the best I can. Focus on my goals.

This go long. Wow. I am going to take a break before writing my goals to 2020. I also want to write my next goals for 2020 based on this retrospective of 2019.

[blueberrypancakepotbellygirl]

oOoOooOooOo she has so many thoughts !! time to spill !!

diagnosis and next steps

so, after the bad appointment last time, my mum and I have been planning to go back to the doctors and try to see a different practitioner and see if I can get referred this way. my mum talked to this psychiatrist lady she knows, and she asked me to send her an email with my symptoms and why i want a diagnosis. i told her the truth, including that i want a diagnosis for validation of my experience and the ability to access special circumstances at the university and through whatever employment I enter (so that, when school starts and when i get a proper job, i don’t have to wait 6 months for verification of my illness while i... idk break down or something. preventative mental health care just seems so logical idk why it isn’t encouraged more.)

the psychiatrist wrote a letter with her recommendations, something i could maybe give to whatever GP I see. Right now, though, i’m wondering if this is 1) worth it, 2) necessary, and 3) if i’m doing it for the right reasons.

I know that something is still wrong. I know if I was neurotypical i wouldn’t be self harming, i wouldn’t be having panic attacks, i wouldn’t be having these episodes of severe sadness and suicidal ideation. i wouldn’t still struggle with food. so, something is wrong. a diagnosis of SOME KIND is needed, because i haven’t been evaluated since before first year and these seem to have expiry dates. so i feel like, even if the first GP i saw didn’t think i had BPD, he should have still referred me because of the symptoms I have????? like fucking maybe ??

the thing is though, i know i’m not supposed to be in therapy right now. i know the relationships i have with my therapists can stunt my emotional growth (... just saying.... this is another symptom of BPD... just putting that out there). so i don’t want a diagnosis so that i can access TREATMENT. i’ve been getting treatment for over a decade ! i need to see how i do on my own ! so far that’s been.... real mixed !!!! as my life always is ! some days i feel like a fully normal person ! other days i feel like a fucking GOD. and other times i want to Fully Die and i feel the Worst I’ve Ever Felt and it feels like every cell in my body has relapsed. but i feel like if i say i’m not looking for therapy a doctor is going to (fairly, as well) be confused as to why i want an assessment. 

the way i see it, a diagnosis allows me to access the SUPPORT i need to live my life without therapy. it allows me to have days off when i need them, it allows me extra time in exams, it is lenient with me in terms of how much is expected of me as a researcher or academic or employee. a diagnosis helps me navigate the world slightly easier. having a diagnosis of an eating disorder meant that i could be strict with employers about food breaks. having a diagnosis of depression meant i was given leniency when i came to missing classes and lectures. diagnoses are keys. if my life has these adjustments, therapy isn’t necessary. life gets its hardest when i can’t access these adjustments. but i don’t know if this is good enough for a GP to refer me. i know waiting lists are long (ahahaha i know this SO WELL) and doctors don’t want people on them who might have nothing wrong with them. i get that. but there is definitely something wrong with me, and i feel like this reason is a valid enough reason. maybe. i think i think i think.

okay but here’s where i stumble. because DESPITE IT BEING YET ANOTHER SYMPTOM THAT I DON’T HAVE A STABLE SENSE OF SELF AND I OFTEN CLING TO SPECIFIC THINGS TO MODEL MYSELF OFF OF BECAUSE I DON’T FEEL SUBSTANTIAL ON MY OWN i have always depended on my previous diagnoses as personality-makers. being ‘anorexic’ or ‘anxious’ became my entire personality. identifying with BPD has done the same. i honestly cannot remember a time where i didn’t have a diagnosis of some kind, just as i couldn’t remember a time until just recently when i hadn’t been in therapy. existing without a diagnosis is something i have never done, and the idea of it is SO FUCKING TERRIFYING. and, often, when i’m scared about something, it’s a sign i really, really, very much need to do that thing. 

so now i’m stuck ! between the possibility that maybe i need to see how i am without a diagnosis and no help ! and trying to get help again and maybe being rejected again !!! but, i guess, if this was a physical illness ( and ik ik it’s stupid to compare them i know) then i wouldn’t be like ‘well, i’ve always had the diagnosis of diabetes, so maybe i should go a while without having it’. that’s just dumb.

look, i know my symptoms are mild. they are nowhere near as severe as many of those with BPD experience. my mania and depressive episodes happen a 3/4 times a week rather than three times a day. i don’t have debt. my relationships are significantly more stable (definitely not perfect by any means tho, still a long way to go, can’t get complacent). the eating disorder is so much better, the self harming is so much better. i am getting better. but when things are bad, they are SO BAD !!! and if i wait until things are SO BAD then it will be too late ! i am being a good patient by going in now smh. 

i am going to go back to the doctors. i don’t know if i’m going to let my mum come into the actual appointment with me, because that’s a boundary i really want to reinforce. but i also don’t want to push her out of my personal struggles entirely either, so i feel like her coming down to support me through the appointment is a really good middle ground. we’ll see.

going home and family

i went home this weekend !!! i took alex and we got the train and my ENTIRE FAMILY CAME TO THE STATION and fucking Rory homophobe smith was there which was just... hilarious. so weird. why are my family so intense. but it went so well !! so so well ! i feel like dad likes alex way more than he ever liked mike (idk what he had against mike). i felt bad for not spending much time with my mum on our own, because that;s what i always do when i go home. but it was actually super nice to not do that, to not have super intensive emotional sessions with her. it was just... lovely to play chess and drink coffee and play with the dogs with alex and then leave the next day. 

the night was hard. the night is always hard. triggers creep in like ghosts in the night, they seep through the wooden floors and sink into me. i went manic and was going through all the cupboards on the first and lower floor. idk what i was looking for. it was a pair of strawberry-patterned converse at first, and then i started feeling paranoid for no reason and searching for old diaries of mine that i thought my parents had hidden.

partners meeting family is always a big and important thing for me. gay partners meeting family is... a Whole New Thing. it forced me to confront those lingering feelings of guilt and shame that i feel about my sexuality and the Big Feelings of guilt i feel for upsetting my mother by being queer (aha. lol. that was. the worst. feeling. ever. it broke my heart. i am absolutely still not over that heartbreak it turns out. i’m getting there though.) but we did it and it went well and i am so grateful to have such a supportive partner and i am very in love and i like them very much and it feels like we are in a good and stable place and that is the best feeling ever.

how summer is going

summer is going. it’s super good and super bad. i need to get more interviews. i need to keep trying to keep a routine and keep my room clean and get fresh air even if that means i buy coffee from some dumb coffee shop every day. work is hit or miss. anxiety comes in waves, as does dissociation. depression hits like a brick and then leaves like a moving van. i need to sleep more, need to shower every day. water the sun flower. i have my paints now ! and my brushes !!! so i can paint things for all my friends and that makes me happy. immy and chema and dara and ale and alex can all get little summer paintings to commemorate the end of summer.

what’s next

dissertation. i’m putting out a new round of posts tomorrow. meeting ihsaan to catch up because i have been a terrible, super negligent friend to him recently. buy groceries because i need to eat more vegetables and protein. maybe buy a baking tin and make banana bread this week. i get paid on wednesday: no. 1 priority? immy’s birthday present. i have MANY IDEAS. gotta pick one now.

[ohhhoneyhoney]

okay. so i just had a conversation with my other sister about our childhood, most specifically our dad, and i realized some things so for anyone who doesn't care about my personal life, i'm putting a readmore so you can skip this, but if you wanna learn more, feel free to come on this journey of self-realization with me

i've talked about my dad before; about how he wasn't the greatest, he was never around, i know next to nothing about him, etc. my dad was an alcoholic, like...a bad alcoholic. he would constantly be drinking, and i don't have a lot of memories of him, but the most clear thing i DO remember about him is how he smelled like beer. that's p messed up when you think about it, that i can barely remember his face but i knew his smell. and i don't just mean his breath, i mean he just smelled like beer...constantly. like it was oozing out his pores and he was just sweating it out.

but anyway. he was an alcoholic. we didn't have a lot of money growing up, mostly bc he couldn't hold down a "normal" job and any money my mom made went to paying our rent and buying his beer. to my mom's credit, she didn't just hand it over, like she would hide it from him, lie and say they didn't have any to spare. it was almost worse that way tho. i remember a story she told once, about one christmas when i was young where our maw-maw (grandma) bought us a lot of expensive toys and presents - and then my dad took all of that stuff, set it out in the parking lot of our closest gas station, sold it, and then turned right around and bought beer with it. he would sell anything he could to get beer money. he would LITERALLY SELL FOOD OUT OF OUR FREEZER for beer money. he would sell our food stamps. he would put shit in our STROLLERS to sneak it out of stores so he could sell it. he would steal from people and sell their stuff. for beer. he was in jail for so many years of my life, from stealing or fighting or other stupid shit he would get into. i know he did drugs, but i think that was more towards the end of his life.

anyway. finally my mom said enough is enough and she kicked him out. we only ever saw him once every few months, unless he didn't have a place to go, then he'd sleep on our couch for a few weeks before finding something better and taking off without even a goodbye. and i mean, he did try to stay sober sometimes. he'd go to rehab (usually as a court order, but rehab nonetheless) do a thirty-day program, come home and be sober for a few days or even a week...then he'd start drinking again.

i know now that he had a problem. he had an addiction. and i know now that he started drinking to self-medicate. i don't know much about his childhood, but from what my mom told me, it was bad. his mother was physically and mentally abusive. she had mental health issues as well, what i suspect were the same issues my dad had, and the drinking was a way that they had both started to manage the symptoms. anyone would swear that once my dad had just enough alcohol in him to be tipsy but not enough to be drunk, he was the nicest guy. my sister swears up and down that he was a great dad, that he goofed off with us, cleaned the house, made meals, set the table, was just...a great person to be around. but then he'd drink more, and he'd keep drinking, and then he would either pass out or just be as belligerent as you'd expect. i don't think he ever hit my mom, but i know that he physically threatened her several times. he wasn't the type of drunk who would take it out on a woman, but he'd sure as hell hit a man. he made a lot of stupid decisions while drunk

and i know now that he was couldn't stop. i'm no expert on addiction or alcoholism by far, but i know that if you have a problem with a substance and try to quit, it is difficult, and it is an uphill battle, and even then, sometimes you don't overcome. talking to my sister last week, and my other sister just tonight, i had a sudden epiphany about my feelings about my dad

i loved my dad. i was the youngest, so i don't remember a lot of the bad times, i just remember that he was my dad and i hardly ever got to see him, but when i did, i loved him, and i knew that i loved him

ten years ago, december 2008, he died. the circumstances are a bit foggy, all i know is: he was drinking, he was doing drugs, and one day his father went to check on him bc he hadn't heard from him from days, and he found him dead. he was living in a van at the time

when i found out he was dead, i was of course devastated. but once the sadness faded a bit, i realized that i was feeling something else, something bigger than grief. i was fucking angry. i was PISSED. i HATED him. my feelings for my dad went from unconditional love to overwhelming hatred in the space of a few hours, and for the past ten years, i've been carrying that anger around with me, bc in classic me fashion i just pushed it into the back of my mind and ignored it. and honestly? i had no idea why

then i was talking it over with my sisters, and i realized what it was. see, i knew my dad had an addiction. i knew he had a problem. i knew he had tried and failed in the past to overcome his addiction. and when he died, i was so pissed, so fucking livid, bc a part of me always assumed that one day, he'd manage to overcome it for good. i had hope that someday, he'd come knocking on our door, completely sober, and say "i'm sorry i wasn't there, but i promise to be there from now on" i just took it as a given that he'd get better, BE better, and that i'd finally have the dad that i never felt i had. and then he died, and that hope was ripped away, and i realized that it was never going to happen. i was upset bc we weren't enough, my mom and my sisters and my brother weren't enough, I wasn't enough. we weren't enough for him to finally find the strength to beat his addiction, and i was angry bc he was so weak that he could never pull himself up and out of the gutter he'd chosen to lie in, and i've remained angry all these years bc of it

i'm the queen of denial and ignorance. as long as i didn't think about my dad, as long as i didn't think about my anger, it wasn't real, it wasn't there, and i could just continue living my life. but that shit stays with you. that shit festers. i didn't realize until recently that i've been carrying around this anger and sadness and guilt. i didn't understand mental health then. i didn't understand addiction. i didn't understand feeling so down and empty and lifeless that you would turn to something so destructive just to feel something other than that. i struggle with depression. i know how it is to feel empty and lifeless. i think perhaps the only reason i haven't turned to alcohol or drugs is bc i saw how those things ruined my dad's life, my mom's, my own, and i don't want to continue that cycle. my dad self-medicated bc he didn't see a way out of that cycle. he grew up in a time when mental health wasn't something people understood, much less something they spoke openly about. i doubt he was ever even diagnosed. but he suffered from it every day of his life, and bc of his choices, so did we

anyway. this is a long rambly rant, and it's four in the morning so i'll end it here. i just wanted to get this off my chest, and if no one ever reads it but me, then hey! at least i can start the process of letting it go