#i need to get back on my meds so bad. unrelated to all that but hoo. i am. so -gestures- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marierg · 1 year ago

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Tender Mercy

Rated: M (18+ Youngins or easily triggered DO NOT READ)

Warnings: Violence, medical talk, strong language, mentions of blood and blood stains, mentions of depression and depressive episodes, Stress and stress responses, pent up feelings, crying, kissing and bed sharing. Yeah if you're looking for the smuts that's gonna be in the next part(s?).

A/N: I will state that the initial first part of this started out as a cathartic venting for myself after a really bad call (I drive the boo boo bus). I never meant to put it out there but it evolved over time to this little story about Kix. much Thanks to @the-rain-on-kamino as always for being my partner in crime!

Words: 5.5K... Yeah I can't do short.

Song credit: Rainbow connection by Jim Henson & Paul Williams

Don't read under the cut if ya cant handle....

Red...

So much Red....

It was so hard to get out.

You scrubbed and you scrubbed and you poured on more peroxide cleaner yet still it wouldn't go away. It seeped into the seams in the metal of the LAAT, oozing back out after you thought it had been wiped clean. It was unrelenting, never ending much like the stream of injured that you had sent back to the cruiser from the planet surface. Once the injured stopped coming and the battle won then you finally had a chance to go back yourself. Still you found yourself covered in the red that hadn't yet been cleaned from the days events. On your uniform, your bags, and every other surface that had been contaminated by these last few days. You too were contaminated, but unlike the emotionless gear around you there seemed no way to purge the stain on your heart. Gritting your teeth in anger at your failures, 17 lost because you weren't good enough... fast enough... strong enough. So here you knelt in the bloodied craft, trying to right what was in your control to correct.

17 good men gone...

Contrail clenched his jaw, “How long has she been at it?”

“Dunno, saw 'er in the medbay restocking earlier after landing.” Jepp shrugged, unsure how long their civilian medic had been scrubbing out the cabin of the craft. Both men slowly walked up, Jepp leaning on the B post of the gunship studied your expression. You were moving on instinct, not really paying attention to their presence. “Scrub that any harder the paint will peal off.”

You grunted but kept scrubbing.

“I heard the chow tonight is decent, how 'bout it?” He gestured with his head towards the direction of the mess.

Still you just wiped away the most recent clean spot and moved to the next red stain in the cabin.

The two pilots glanced at one another unsure what to do. If it was one of their brothers this wouldn't be a discussion, marching them to the med bay by force if necessary. Fortunately neither man needed to dwell on it much further, the familiar shape of their CMO came into the hangar.

“I've got her boys, you can head out.”

Kix held the restocked bags watching you work, waiting till the others were gone and the hangar empty again to move closer. He knew there was no talking to you right now, he was much the same way after missions. It was simply the last thing to do to finish out the day, you cleaned the gear and your craft to leave it ready at a moments notice. All medics did this, but it was more than for protocol. It was meditative, reflective, a means to try to make sense of the mission that had just been survived.

You glanced briefly at Kix as he gloved up. He grabbed a towel and a brush, taking the spot next to yours to try to finish the job. He didn't speak, there was no need to. The two of you often worked like this in the field, simply knowing what supply to throw to the other or even knowing when the other needed help within the vast sea of patients. Bandaging, medicating, triaging and sending to transport trooper after trooper. Finally the two of you stepped off of the craft, satisfied with the job and replacing the aid bags.

“It wasn't your fault.” Kix was the first to break the quiet, keeping a calm tone. You had that look that some of his older brothers had, one that even he had from time to time. You were standing at the bay slop sink scrubbing your hands raw even though the gloves had kept you clean. Moving to your side he tried to turn your shoulder only to have you jerk away. “Y/n, it wasn't your fault...”

“Then why did they die? We did everything right, So why?” It was a whisper but still it echoed off the walls.

“We can't always save them, try as we might we can't. And there are always more troopers that need our help.” Kix carefully moved towards you, not yet attempting contact again. “We saved more than we lost, that's a victory.”

Your jaw fixed, gritting out the words. “Some would argue that.”

“107 others would agree with me. General Skywalker and General Kenobi would tell you the same.” Kix watched the despair and frustration fill your eyes, needing to place the blame for those losses somewhere. This mission had been particularly brutal, the planet itself was trying to kill them as much as the Separatists. The two of you had been injured, still you had kept working not giving a kark for the shrapnel that had peppered you. Days without sleep or food and very little water, all this and you didn't even have to be there at all. You had volunteered to go, you had chosen to help and heal those who were never given that option. “Y/n, you gave more than anyone could have and that means more to us clones than you know.”

You didn't want to cry, especially not in front of Kix. He was always so brave and calm, unflappable some would say. He never cried and of all people he was the one entitled... they were his brothers after all. But they were also your friends, your shipmates. Men whom you lived, ate and fought alongside. You didn't flinch back this time when his gentle hand squeezed your shoulder, nor did you pull away when he brought you into a hug. You didn't want to cry, but since when in this war did anyone get what they wanted. “Why... w-why Kix?”

Kix held you, gently soothing a hand on your head. How many times had he wondered the same thing, how many times had he begged the Maker to let him save just one more of his Vode? He could feel your wracking sobs against his plate less chest and wished he could take away your pain along with his own. Your sweet soul didn't deserve any of this and yet he was so deeply grateful for your presence. Leaning down to the top of your head, Kix breathed in deep before laying his cheek to your crown. “I wish I knew Sarad.”

Kix stayed closer to you after that, not that he hadn't before. He would show up for shift with an extra breakfast roll or make a smart remark during briefing trying to get you to laugh. He made you come out of your dark feelings and fears, always there even if in companionable silence listening to you ramble. As time past you started to wonder what if it could be more, what if there was more to this feeling?

You were attracted to the man, oh Maker were you attracted to him, but what if he didn't feel the same? Or what if he did? You always shook those thoughts away quickly, it wouldn't be professional and worse you might loose what you did have. So instead you satisfied yourself with reciprocating his care and friendship. Indulging in a hug, sharing your care package treats, or just squeezing his hand when he looked unhappy. Hells one time you grabbed a bedpan and a crutch to sing and dance till he fell out of the chair laughing. It was the little things here and there, but hopefully it conveyed a portion of what you felt.

It was a few months after that mission when you all got sent through the grinder again. Kix had left to go ahead with a small team while you remained back with most of Torrent. Fives and Jesse were telling you another tall tale when the ground violently shook at the LZ. There was no thinking involved, you yelled for Jepp to get the bird in the air and soon located the missing men. It had been a hairy extraction, you lost two en route back to the base. The mission continued but something had changed, Kix was different.

He was quieter than normal, solemn. After landing back on the ship he just took the bags and left to restock, no acknowledgment of your presence or offer to help after handing off the wounded. Kix didn't show up for debriefing with the command staff and half the squad didn't know where he'd gone. When you checked the bay the bird was clean and the bags returned and still no Kix. As time ticked by the claws of dread slowly wound their way around your heart and throat till it hurt to breathe.

It finally dawned on you to scan the ship for his ID chip. You ran the corridors, bumping into more than a few troopers, entering the small supply closet off of the med bay. Kix was there just quietly staring into the dark shelves blankly. He still had his armor on, bloodstained and muddied. The normally rock steady medic, your best friend, was so deep in his pain that he didn't even notice when you started talking.

“Kix I been looking for you.”

Nothing, not a blink or even a flinch. Just blankly staring.

“How about letting a pretty girl get you a Kaf, what do you say?”

A grunt this time.

You were really starting to worry now, this was bad as you had ever seen one of the men. When they got this bad sometimes the troopers were sent back to Kamino, none of them ever came back the same... if they came back. The very though sent shudders down your spine, no you wouldn't let that happen to him.

“Kix, you're gonna come with me okay. We're going to go somewhere quiet so you can rest.” When his head slowly turned you saw the dried tear trails. Swallowing down your emotions and giving him a soft smile as you offered a hand, you begged he would accept. “please take my hand.”

Trembling fingers met yours, grasping tight. His only reply was a nod, but that was enough for now.

It was a slow, robotic walk back to your room. You decided that was a better option than to let any of the brass see him like this. You figured that if you watched Kix close you might be able to cover for him till this wore off. You helped to remove his armor and gave him a push to the fresher, hoping the hot water could offer him some relief. By the time you returned with fresh blacks, bless the supply boys, he sat on the edge of the bed looking lost but in fairer condition than before.

“I'm... Y/n... Sarad...” His jaw continued to move but no sound came out. Mechanically he dressed and then sat once more, still so very lost. Why was he still there? That droid should have killed him, why did he get to live when Ace and Taps were gone? They were good troopers...

“Shh shh, it's ok, you rest now.” Pulling back the covers you eased him onto the mattress, tucking him in. You propped up with the unfinished reports on the floor, holding his hand with a small squeeze before settling in, “Sleep Kix, you're safe here, I promise.”

“Thank you Y/n.”

That was how the next night went as well, you on the floor and Kix in the bed though he had tried to fight you on it. The third night he refused until you had agreed to also sit up in the bed. When he had finally drifted off it was with his head in your lap as you stroked gently through the short buzz trim on his head. You hummed an old song from your childhood in time to your caressing, hoping to soothe and fight away the nightmares. When he did stir with a whimper you'd start the song again.

Just a little longer you figured at least till he didn't cry in the night. Just a while more till he would be fine sleeping without you soothing him; your time was precious and finite and that was how it had to be. Through those nights you had answered every call and attended every briefing, making the excuse that Kix was tending to the men or seeing to requisitions. Every once in a while you thought there might have been a glint in Rex's eye. If the Captain suspected, he never said anything.

The unit made it back to Couriscant for some well earned shore leave and at last you were able to let your guard down. Kix had been able to sleep through the night a few rotations before and had insisted he would be fine returning to the barracks. You were relieved and saddened. Given the many missions and cramped quarters you decided to take an old friend up on a longstanding offer. They had a place that was set up as a short stay vacation apartment and had cleared the entire leave time for your use. Who knew, maybe a few days on terra firma would help your own aches and pains. As you got unpacked and tossed groceries in the fridge there was a com from the Captain, the text simply read, “79's come quick.”

Pulling up on your speeder bike there were your boys in blue bloodied and shouting as a bunch from the 808th Ordinance corp were pulling up stakes. Grimacing you jogged over, “What the heck guys?”

“Those Di'kuts started it, we simply cleaned the floor with them,” Hardcase giggled.

Rex and Jesse were restraining a few troopers, one with a set of all too familiar colored shoulder bells. Rex pulled Kix along, lecturing him in Mando'a until both of their eyes met your very tired ones. Crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow you sighed. “Well lets get you cleaned up.”

Once the last of the bandages were placed and the other company of troopers out of sight, Rex pulled you to the side. The Captain had always been good to you, hell he treated you like one of the boys, the grim look on his face though was purely marshal in appearance. Crossing his arms Rex leveled with you, “Sargent I need a straight answer from you, not that osik from the last few days.”

Flexing nervously under that stare you tried not to crack, “What answer is that Captain?”

“Kix hasn't been himself.”

“He's been tired is all...”

“No it's not.” The Captain leveled his best harsh look at you. “So I'm going to ask you again.”

Your body was twitching from the nerves of the last week, stars knew how scared you felt. “I can't...”

“Why not?”

Damn your body for betraying you. The stress of the previous days, all those fears crashing under Rex's scrutiny. You sniffled and tried to get a grip, croaking out the next answer to Rex. “Cause you'll send him back to Kamino.”

“What?”

“They'll mess up his brain and he won't be Kix anymore.” You started to really shake then, dam bursting tears rolling down your face.

“Hey hey hey, come here now.” Rex's facade instantly crumbled, gently wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He had to give you credit, keeping cool for this long poor little mite. “That is not going to happen. The last thing I want is for Kix to be in pain so we need to help him. I promise that he won't get sent back to Kamino, just tell me how I can help.”

“I don't know, he was doing ok for a bit.” You released a frustrated breath & wiped the tears away. Glancing at the medic who was sitting on a planter with Fives and Hardcase your heart clinched again. “What set him off anyway?”

“Wasn't there when it started, but Jesse said that the 808 were making some noise. Something about us having a lot of shinies and civies around every time we get back planet side.” Rex gritted his teeth, refraining from telling you the horrible things that were really said, especially the part they said about you.

Your face turned red at the implications, temper rising in indignation. Taking another look at your Captain you pressed further while resisting the urge to use some of your troopers favorite slang. “Those... Oh if I get my hands on...Grrrr.”

Rex couldn't help a small smirk given that you had all the furry of a loth cat and were just as adorable. “Easy there.”

Letting out a huff you tried to stay focused on the task at hand, “What do you think we should do?”

Rex crossed his arms, thinking, “Well for one I don't want him anywhere near those di'kuts, so going back to the barracks is out”

“Agreed,” Sighing heavily you tried to think of a solution, “But where can he go?”

Rex always considered himself a fair judge of character. He knew Kix harbored more than just affection for you. Hell anyone could see how Kix tended to gravitate to you like a planet obits a sun. Rex also surmised that you harbored deep feelings for his brother. Having seen you sing or dance, anything to get Kix to smile. “I may have an idea.”

“I'm in.”

Rex knew of course that you had smuggled his CMO back to your bunk on board the ship. He was also aware that your movements and duties to cover both jobs had precluded any possibility that either of you had done anything non regulation. Not that he would blame either for trying to find a little happiness, rare as it was. Maybe all that the two needed was a little nudge and perhaps that was what would bring his brother back. “I don't mean to impose Y/n, but aren't you staying off base this leave?”

“Yeah,” Seeing Rex raise his eyebrows and shrug you realized what he was trying not to say aloud. Under more normal circumstances Kix going back to your place would have been exciting, but right now all you felt was cement churning in your guts. Looking at those golden eyes your head nodded in agreement.

“Good, com if you need anything.” Rex hoped that he was right about this. As his general would so often say, sometimes you have to follow your instincts and pray the Force it's correct. Rex turned to you, one more time. “You know it's not everyone who gets a nickname Y/n... even rarer for one in Mando'a. But I suppose that you knew that.”

Kix was in his own world, he vaguely remembers the few stops that were made before walking into the apartment. He recalled you sitting him on the couch with a movie after making him shower and change into the comfortable clothing you had acquired for him. It was loose and soft against his skin, he wondered if all civilian clothing was like this. He felt relaxed and unrestricted, he felt free.

Kix had savored eating the dinner you had cooked and just sitting at the table, no reports or place to be. He wondered if all civilians did this, just sitting and enjoying their meals without a thought to the world outside. All evening you talked about your friends, life happening outside the GAR, things that had happened long ago when you were a youngling. You chatted all the time about things, sometimes you sang or hummed, but rarely was it quiet when you were around.

His Sarad, a thing of beauty in the midst of the ciaos. Kix remembers the day he gave you the nickname. While waiting for casualties he had suddenly felt a ring of flowers placed on his head. You had giggled and started talking about things he could not grasp: childhood games, playing, happiness. Then the wounded had come and you had remained calm. You talked to the men, sang them your silly songs to put them at ease, and through it all you smiled. You were smiling at him again, asking if he wanted to watch another holo, but that wasn't what drew his attention. It was the dark circles under your bright eyes, it was that your smile didn't extend the way it normally would.

“Kiiiiix? Hello... command to Kix... you there?” Oh kriff the man finally starting to talk with you again and now he was staring right at you but not responding. “So is that a no to the holo?”

Kix stood, walking over and pulling you up and out of the chair. He saw your eyes widen, the hitch in your breathing, flush creeping across your cheeks. Gently he wrapped his arms around you and felt as your soft form molded against him.

Holy Maker stars above... Well this was new, “Kix?”

“Ner Sarad, dral runi.” He raised a hand to cup your cheek, thumb stroking against the downy surface.

“You should probably teach me what those fancy words you're using mean,” it came out a nervous laugh, “they sound so pretty.”

Kix's mouth turned up a bit, you were so sweet. “Dral means bright and runi is hard to explain. It's what makes a person, that which goes on even after death.”

“A person's soul.” Your heart raced, eyes half lidded from the soft caress and his words. Taking a deep, fortifying breath you dared a glimpse of his warm eyes. Amber hues shot with flecks of darker brown studying you in kind. “Kix, why did you get so mad? I don't think I've ever seen you get in a fight.”

“They said something unkind about my brothers. And you.”

“Me?” Swallowing hard you ducked your head to quell the butterflies swarming. Heat was creeping into your body the longer Kix held you, but you needed to figure out what was going on with him, how to help him. “It doesn't matter, you could have ended up in the brig or worse. You know better than anyone what happens when...”

“I couldn't let them call you...”

“I don't care,” Damn your voice for trembling. “Words can't hurt me, whatever it was it doesn't matter.”

“Y/n...”

“No I don't care what they said! I KRIFFING CARE ABOUT YOU!” The panic that you thought had subsided roared back with a vengeance. You were scared as hell for him and now scared as hell how he would react to your confession. He didn't balk or walk away, instead Kix drew you closer as you crumpled into his shoulder. “I don't want anything to happen to you. You can't ... damn it Kix I'm not worth it! I want you to be safe, I don't want you to get arrested or court marshaled or worse. Please!”

“You're worth it to me.” He said it through gritted teeth, as though your words had cut him to the bone. “You are worth everything to me, Y/n.”

“Not if it means they...” The grip you had on him tightened, words coming out a whisper as if speaking them was something taboo. “Not if it means they take you away.”

“Shh I'm sorry Sarad. No more fights I promise.” He'd stop the planet turning if it meant your tears would dry. Kix began to sway with you in his arms, singing the same song that you had used to lull him to rest these past days. Not that he could sing, but Kix tried to keep the tune even. “Who said that every wish would be heard and answered when wished on the morning star?”

“Somebody thought of it (sniff) and someone believed it...”

“and look what it's done so far,” There was a soft smile tugging the corners of his lips as your head turned to look up at him. Your nose was pink and your eyes puffy, but you were the most beautiful being he had ever seen. “What's so amazing that keeps us stargazing and what do we think we might see?”

There he was, you saw the minute the light returned to his eyes. You couldn't help a small sigh as he pressed your foreheads together while you finished together. “Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection. The lovers, the dreamers and me.”

“Sarad don't cry, not for me, please.”

“Can't help it I'm a crier, I cry at everything,” Sniffling again you took a steady deep breath. “But I'll try.”

His thumbs still absently stroked at the apple of your cheek, trying to stem the tide. Kix felt slender fingers gently lay on the side of his face and neck, his eyes closed in ecstasy. How he wished he had said something far sooner, when his mind wasn't tattered at the seams. Yet here you stood unafraid, holding him. “What is it?"

“Don't shut me out.” Stars what was this spell and how could you keep it from breaking? You had him back, please Maker don't let him slip away again. “Please Kix tell me what to do, I want to help.”

“You are ner Sarad, you always do.”

“Kix...” Closing your eyes you concentrated on the sound of his voice as he began to sing again. His baritone could put you at ease, it could make your heart race, but right now it was a grounding tether soothing your weary nerves. Snaking your arms around his neck you let him lead as your bodies gently rocked in slow circles.

“Have you been half asleep and have you heard voices? I've heard you calling my name...” Kix tilted his head to nuzzle his nose lightly on yours, drawing a true grin out for the first time in days. “Is this the sweet sound that calls the young troopers, your voice may be one and the same...”

Moving to close the hairs breath distance, you pressed the softest of kisses to his lips. Kix tilted your face to look up at him, using his thumb to brush at the plump flesh of your lower lip and you kissed the pad of the digit just as gently. Then your eyes went wide, a blush crossing your cheeks. “I'm sorry, I should have asked if it was ok to kiss you. Are you ok? Is this ok? Did I...”

“Sarad, you may kiss me as much as you wish.” He chuckled in his throat, pressing a finger to your lips effectively pausing your nervous babble. “Because I will give you as many as I can... and so much more.”

Dipping his head Kix laid claim to you, slow and thorough in his exploration. He wanted to memorize the pattern of your lips as they pressed to his, their texture and taste. Using his thumb to press your jaw open his tongue made a tentative sweep into the warmth of your mouth, tongues tangling the less timid you became and the more he beckoned. Kix's heart raced with every little moan and sigh you gave as he continued his ministrations. Maker he wanted more of you, to feel your soft skin under his hands, to see what you looked like out of that ridiculous regulation braid. He pulled at the tie in your hair to watch the soft filaments fall to frame your face. A flower in bloom.

Kix crouched down and picked you up,grinning at your squeek of surprise even as your legs wrapped around his hips. You didn't protest, nor cry, just held tighter as he carried you to the bedroom. Setting you down on the soft mattress he sat next to you feeling uncertain. He knew what he wanted, what he so ached to do to show just how much he felt. He stroked his fingers near where exhaustion sullied your bright face and knew that was meant for another night. Still he so yearned to show you how he felt, to reward your courage and care as well. “Y/n you're so good to me, ner kotep cyar'ika.”

“Oh Kix,” Maker you couldn't believe that you finally had the man in your bedroom, but you couldn't bring yourself to go further than kissing. He was vulnerable and you hated to think he may regret any decisions tonight because of that. Above all else you had to do right by him because at the end of the night he was still your friend. Cradling his face you kissed his forehead before whispering softly in his ear. “let's get some rest and in the morning we'll figure things out.”

“Sleep well Y/n, I'll be here when you wake up.” There was a small pang of disappointed, but he would let you sleep for a week or more if it gave you peace. Brushing the hair away from your face Kix started to move away until he felt you holding tighter to him. “Sarad?”

“Would you stay with me?” Nerves getting the better of you, biting the corner of your mouth. “I'll sleep better if you're here.”

His face softened even more, “Are you sure?”

“Only if you want to,” You laid back, ducking your head into the plush pillows to half hide, “You make me feel safe and...”

He was trying to understand you through the muffling of the pillow, a half grin on his face. “And?”

“I want you feel safe with me too.”

Kix couldn't resist or say no to you and frankly he had never slept so well as when he had lain in your quarters. Removing his top and climbing in to settle on his back, Kix snugged you into the crook of his arm. You cuddled in further placing your head on his chest so that his heartbeat was right under your cheek, steady and constant. He caressed your shoulder and back while playing with the fingers of the hand on his torso. It was such an intimate position.

“Kix what does Sarad mean?”

In for a credit, in for a kilo. He hummed, placing a kiss to your forehead, “Flower.”

“Why do you call me flower?”

“Do you know what the first thing I saw when I left Kamino was y/n?” The words rumbled from his chest, he felt as your head shook. “I was sent as a replacement to meet with the 501st, but they were on this little forest moon. When the gangplank lowered all I could see was this field of little flowers, I'd never seen one before.”

You smiled waiting patiently for him to continue.

“I thought that they must be the most beautiful things in the galaxy.” He tilted your chin to look at him, “Until you waltzed into the med bay and I knew I had been mistaken.”

Your cheeks warmed as a blush spread over your face.

“Sleep ner mesh'la sarad,” Kix tucked the comforter more snugly around your shoulders, “we can talk more in the morning.”

Tags: @rain-on-kamino

#star wars #clone wars #star wars the clone wars #clone medic kix #clone medic kix x reader #Clone medic Kix Smut #kix x reader #Kix Smut #clone thirsting

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mr-jaybird · 10 months ago

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actually, reblogging that post about not looking down on community college makes me want to talk about my experiences and career to show like look. you don't have to do what your high school guidance counselor said was best

at 19 (august birthday), i went straight from high school to a four year college. i did really well academically but my mental health was BAD and after two years admin insisted i leave to receive treatment. straight up would not let me be at school anymore (undiagnosed bipolar is a bitch)

at 21 i dropped out and worked for $7.25/hr at starbucks and also got mental health treatment (and meds!!!). at 22 i went back to school at community college part time and knocked out some gen eds (and also a couple classes just for fun, like theater)

at 24 i went to a different 4 year school. i changed my major (to psych), did three years there and graduated with an excellent gpa and extensive research experience (i busted my ass there, and since i took time off to get healthy, it went a lot better!). since i'd knocked out most of my gen eds, i got to concentrate on classes i cared about. my last year i was a part time student and worked as a paid research assistant more extensively, and did a honors thesis. i also taught myself the basics of programming my last year

i graduated at 26 and got my first programming and data science job (in fintech, blegh). it was terrible. my degree was largely unrelated and they didn't give me any training. they also expected constant unpaid overtime. i was just trying to hang in there and make enough to pay my rent. i actually was struggling so much i almost got fired. i had something of a nervous breakdown but stayed there long enough (18 months) to get a better job in the same field

at 28 i went back to the tech side of public mental health health (yay! and my degree is sorta relevant again). i worked for government. their tech stack was...less than corporate, and i was pretty bored. but i did really well there since i was overqualified! but they wouldn't promote me because i had the "wrong" degree :(

i was planning to leave that job because of no upward mobility when i was invited to apply for my current job, which is the head of data science for a public mental health lab at a public ivy university. they had heard of me from my boss's boss at my government job (networking!). i got that job just before i turned 30. my first year there was really stressful because of the neglect of my predecessor. i had another nervous breakdown. but this job was cool about my mental health and gave me a paid leave and i was able to fully recover and come back and thrive. i love what i do now and at 31, i'm getting a significant promotion from where i was when i started here!

the point of all of this is, i did a lot of things people think are "wrong". i took gap years, i dropped out, i changed my major, i went to community college, i had the "wrong" major, i had to take mental health leaves, etc etc. but i'm still successful and happy with my career! when i was working at starbucks and sleeping on a friend's air mattress i thought i'd be there forever. you never know what might happen in the future (good or bad).

if you can avoid having 3(!) nervous breakdowns in a decade that's better than i've done. but listen: i've failed. i've fucked up. i've been kicked out of school and almost fired and i've come back from it! i had to go on a mental health leave from my current job and they are still really happy with everything i've done there (now i'm just working on doing it in a way that's more sustainable). you don't have to be a perfect person to do well.

and seriously, community college saves a ton of $$$ and no one has ever cared i knocked out my gen eds there. you don't have to follow the "traditional" path, you just need to find something that works for you!

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stuffymcstuffsworld · 1 year ago

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A child I love

You spent your time with Murmur-san during the heartbreaker event. He was hoping for a non combat group, but that wasn't the case. You had found Goemon's team. At first, you were both fine watching the team, which basically took itself apart for you.

But you were concerned. Your usually positive and peppy child looked tired and more stressed than you had ever seen them before as he tried to calm down his juniors. Then you saw Murmur-san make a move. It was the wrong move to make.

It certainly increased discord with the group, but you saw that it had pushed your child too far. Goemon was about to have an evil cycle in front of his Kohai's. You quickly threw your cape over the two, covering their eyes. It was too late for you to close yours however.

The number one rule of the Gaap household. Never show your true face. It made more sense to you now as you stared at the boy in front of you. It wasn't a metaphor.

Underneath the lovely silver fur was a morphed and grotesque figure. Twisted and mauled in an unsettling way. It was honestly what you would compare to a living nightmare.

No... that couldn't be right. He was one of your babies. So full of energy and egar to try new things and meet new people. So, how could you possibly think that description matched that of the child you knew?

You tried opening your mouth, but nothing came from it. It was as if you had been silenced. You could only stare at the true face of your distressed child and do nothing. It was heartbreaking.

You couldn't move even as you knew Murmur-san had knocked your child out with his magic. You could one stare paralyzed by what you had seen. Everything soon became a blur.

You woke up in the med tent. You woke up hearing a panicked Goemon and a calm Murmur-san. You carefully got out of bed, making sure to keep your balance. Why was your baby upset? Why was Murmur being an ass and saying that he couldn't see you?

You flug the curtains open and punched the bastard in the jaw. "Leave my baby alone! Of course, he can see me, I don't care if I'm on my death bed. You don't dictate if they can or can't come in!"

Looking towards Goemon, he seemed to stiffen. He was crying and scared. Quickly, you wrapped your arms around your furry child. He squirmed and tried to push away.

That was odd he had never tried to avoid your affection before. "I'm sorry, so sorry. I shouldn't have, I didn't mean to, I-I" His hiccups sobs made you squeeze tighter.

He whined, but you held firm. "I think we need to have a little chat, dear." You proceeded to move him back towards the divider for a small sense of privacy. "I never wanted y-you to see, I just wanted them t-to stop fi-fighting." He wheezed out as you sat him on the bed.

A jumbled blurr of images past through your mind. That face in particular. Oh... realization hit you. You cupped his furry cheeks. "Goemon. I'm not scared, I'm right here, I'm not gonna run away or stop loving you."

"But how I acted was so shameful!" You let out an amused huff. "Baby, if you hadn't noticed. Nobody in this family is all prim and proper. We all have faults." You petted his fur.

"And so what if you got upset? You had every right to be. There you were with two unrelenting and disagreeing parties trying your best to prevent infighting, and they just ignored you completely."

You scowled remembering the two first years. You were going to have to scold the later. "You are one of my children, one of my boys! How you acted wasn't shameful."

His fur tickled your hands as he started to nestle into your touch. "You don't think I should give up?" He asked quietly. "Why should you give up on your goals? So you reached a bump in the road. It's okay, you can learn from this."

Resting your heads together, you sighed. "The truth is, not everyone can get along with each other. And it's not like you can agree with someone about everything. There will be times when you argue or times when you part ways on bad terms."

You watched him slump a bit before nudging him. "But that makes those you do stay with those you can past arguments and understand their differences all the more special. Cause you decided that they were worth understanding. And they thought you were worth it too."

He seemed to perk up at that. Their he was your positive child. "You- you think I'm worth staying for?" The amazement in his voice as he quickly threw his arms around you. You laughed.

"All my children are worth staying for. Even if they cause trouble everywhere they go." You teased. Ruffling up his fur. "Thank you." You didn't respond to that. You didn't need to. You had said enough.

That image still flashed in your mind from time to time. But despite the harsh features and the rather hideous appearance... it was still your son. They say there are some faces that not even a parent can love. Well, shame on them for missing out on great kids like Goemon! You would love that face if no one else would.

#mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #gaap goemon #murmur

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sophiamcdougall · 1 year ago

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So to sum up

This was yesterday: * Wake up with a migraine * Take the last of my "emergency supply" of ADHD meds * Contact Boots to say 'hey, remember how you decided not to bother to reorder my medication, didn't tell me and left me to run out? Well, you said you'd text me when it came in and you haven't, what's up?" * Boots doesn't have my meds * Boots is fucking rude about it too * Already upset. HAHA I know nothing. * Call another pharmacy. Discover that the fucking global shortage of ADHD meds has struck again * Call all the other pharmacies. * Nothing. *Call GP *GP says to call the psychiatric clinic * Tell GP: "They WILL say there is nothing they can do and to call you back." *GP says to call the psychiatric clinic *[Still migraine] *Time to start work! I have a document to edit this afternoon! * Call psychiatric clinic. Psychiatric clinic does not answer. Says to call in office hours. It is office hours *Call psychiatric clinic several more times *[I hate making phonecalls! They make me stressed and uncomfortable!] *Psychiatric clinic answers. Psychiatric clinic says there is nothing they can do and to call the GP back. *Call GP back. *GP says "Oh, you're completely out of meds"?? as if this was a surprise. *GP says they will try to get me an urgent referral to the psychiatrist to get me prescribed something else. * I say I don't! particularly! want! to do that! I just want my normal, boring medication and even if the 40 and 60mg pills are out, might it not be available in another dosage somewhere? *GP, who keeps interrupting me literally every two seconds, to the extent that I think less "man" and more "honestly needs to read the description for the condition we're talking about" has apparently not thought of that. Will call me back *Edit document *[Still migraine] *GP somehow manages to interrupt me several more times to tell me they're trying to do Things which is nice but not! helpful! when you are trying to edit a document WITH A MIGRAINE! *GP finally says that while there is no way on God's earth to get me 120 mgs of my medication, I CAN get 100mg. Which you'd think we could maybe have got to SEVERAL HOURS AGO but OK. GP spends a long time arguing with me that this is a good idea even though I am not arguing back and agree with him. *Finish editing document. Time to go to GP, to get new prescription for 100 mg! Troubles nearly at end! *Migraine maybe fading? * SLAM foot into large box where keep craft supplies. * Wait for pain to subside. * It doesn't. * Think toes are broken. Can't walk. *Have to walk. GP about to close. GP not on bus route. *Hobble, gasping and wincing half a mile to GP. Hobble, gasping and wincing (and occasionally singing Italian pop music under my breath to take mind off pain because it's That Bad and we do what we got to do at this point) further half mile to Pharmacy. *Walking mile not good for foot definitely at all. * Pharmacists watch me limp into their shop in obvious dismay. "Hi!" I say brightly "This is unrelated to why I'm here!" * Pharmacy interested in toes. Says maybe toes aren't broken? Aren't black. *I agree maybe I'm making a silly fuss and only later think that it had been less than an hour at this point and despite what fanfic will tell you, injuries take longer than that to GO black.¹ *Get my 100mgs of meds. *Limp to bus stop, * Get home. Eat a consolatory ice lolly. *Hobble to bathroom to wash hands *Inexplicably, just to add baffling insult to ludicrous injury, a pile of towels falls on my head.

[¹Today still not black, but still cannot walk and even the weight of bedclothes unbearable -- they're broken as fuck.]

#cursed cursed cursed #what did i do to deserve this oh Zeus?

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mugiwara--ya · 1 year ago

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heyyy hi a little life/med update !!

ive been super super busy these past couple weeks w a ton of socialization etc and ngl i think i burned myself out lol last night after we got back home from a con (and the bar stop after it) i had a massive shutdown that lasted hours and im still reeling from it, but ANYWAYS!! med update med update wooo

so! on top of the lifesaving bupropion ive been taking all year & the eszopiclone for sleep i finally !! got put on something for my ocd, lets give it up for fluoxetine to join my beautiful, beautiful cocktail, mwah 💖💝💗💕💞💓

i know it supposedly takes a few weeks to fully Work but im already feeling a MASSIVE difference right off the bat, like yesterday i was at the mall and i ✨ touched the escalator's handrail ✨ i was literally so excited i kept looking at my hand going yoooooo im DOING it im making it HAPPEN like even my friends congratulated me on it kdsfjhakjg it felt silly but massive at the same time lol and of course i still immediately disinfected my hands but the important thing is that I Did It

and idk its like!!! i knew it was BAD like especially these past few months its been just. VIOLENTLY out of control but god the absolute relief ive been feeling is making me feel like i was still grossly underestimating it, it had completely taken over my life. right now its like, i encounter any random trigger and i brace myself for the anxiety spiral to come and then it DOESN'T and its so ??? like i still have The Thought but then i just go "ok" and dismiss it like an annoying notification and thats IT, while the last time i was on therapy i literally described my ocd as having hundreds of those cymbal-banging monkey toys of different sizes just sitting there in my brain Waiting and every single time i got triggered one of them would start losing its absolute shit - for example if im at the supermarket, on top of the everything about existing as an autistic person at the supermarket, thered be like a dozen of them constantly going ALERT ALERT CONTAMINATION CONTAMINATION EEK EEK DANGER DANGER BANG BANG BANG- and now the monkeys r GONE. get turned into mostly-dismissable phone notifs, idiots !!!!!!!!!

the only monkey im willingly keeping!!!!! is the low poly 3d model of monkey d. luffy constantly rotating in my brain <3 kfngskjdfs

also like i still do like, say, my cleaning rituals when i get back home, but idk i just. i feel Normal about it?? like calmly wiping my phone bc phones r Gross and not bc i literally see a green film of Germs And Various Pathogens enveloping it lol. anddd i havent been attacked by violent intrusive thoughts in a minute !! lets see if it stays that way. im generally super sensitive to medications too so im on low doses of everything and i wanna keep it like that lol so heres to hoping it keeps goin like this so i dont have to up my dose 8)

uhh thats about it ! having a bit of Personal Issues tm at the moment tho but im so relieved abt my ocd i kinda have the bandwidth to deal with them lol. i prolly jus need some sleep quiet and to not be perceived by anyone for a solid week.

in other lighter and unrelated news my queue is completely empty rn so it'll be just a liiiittle quiet around here for a bit but ! yeah. also i just watched the latest op anime episode and urhgrhghrghrgh it was so good hhh <3333 so yah if you read this whole thing i am giving you a little kiss on the forehead, mwah, hope you have a great week !!

#a lie. this turned into a long ass post lmfao #tw ocd #sol.txt

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birdy-ooc · 8 months ago

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Alrighty, a quick little health update:

First of all, we do have a bit of a positive, but skip this paragraph if you aren’t in a good place for weight talk. My spite fuelled weight loss is progressing at a good and healthy rate, and I’m down a stone! 🥳 Lots to go before the specialists will see me, but spite propels me onward, and I evil laugh with every bit of progress.

After that ridiculous cough bug, my voice is pretty buggered. We keep going back and forth on whether an endoscopy is going to be needed to see exactly what damage I’ve done. 🤦‍♀️ Likely going to take weeks to get my voice back to normal boooo.

As for the rest of the fuckery: there is nothing they can do about the worsened nerve pain in my damaged limb. 🙃 I cried at the doctor and feel really bad about it omg. It was sheer frustration coupled with her being so sweet and sympathetic. Lady got me like “YOU CAN’T BE SO NICE I WILL CRY AND I AM TOO BRITISH FOR CRYING AT MEDICAL PROFESSIONALS.” I spent so long dealing with dismissive doctors that I can’t handle a nice one. 🤣

I’m still going to see a new physio in the hopes of even MINOR improvement, but it’s unlikely and I am angy.

The meds we were trying to take me off of (unrelated to the nerve issue) are having to be increased again, but hopefully this is only temporary. Also hoping to start seeing a new therapist to just help process and deal with all the things.

TL;DR I am frustrated and would very much like to have at least ONE part of my body that functions correctly, but instead I’m out here doing the injury speed run. 🤦‍♀️

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andhumanslovedstories · 23 days ago

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Well. Turns out she didn’t win.

I was talking to my mom on the phone this morning after my shift, and she was like, “seriously, how are YOU doing,” and I thought about this patient I worked with last night. Not even my patient, I was just answering his bed alarm while his nurse was dealing with a situation she couldn’t leave. I go to the room, and this guy is trying to get out of bed by crawling over the railings. He’s delirious, he’s confused, he’s super hard to understand, and he’s got that look you get when you’ve been very sick for a long time in a really specific way. Basically the kind of patient where you walk in the room and know that on top of whatever else brought them to the hospital, they’re also withdrawing from meth or fentanyl or both. And he super was, oh my god, this guy was withdrawing hard.

So me and a CNA, god bless her, we get him up to the bathroom like he’s trying to do and then we get him back to bed. He climbs in the wrong way, his head is pressed against the foot of the bed, he’s saying over and over that he wants something to drink, and I say to him, “while the CNA is getting you that drink, can I sit you up and get you more comfortable? Is that okay?”

And he shouts in my face, “NO, IT’S NOT FUCKING OKAY,” with this look of pure anger. It’s genuinely frightening to be stared down by someone and to know that if something goes wrong, they’re gonna try to hurt you. And I’m like “okay cool,” and I step back because he’s a spooked horse ready to kick. The CNA gets that drink, and while she helps him with that, I get him his scheduled meds that will help his withdrawal. When I come back, the patient is back in bed properly, tucked in comfortable, as the CNA holds a carton of milk so he can drink it through a straw.

That patient stayed agitated for the whole time I worked with him, but he never got violent. And he never looked at me again that way he had. He stayed pissed, but we got him to be pissed at the situation, not us, and then we worked to fix the situation.

I think about all the ways that could have gone. Stuff like that happens all the time where the margin between violent and not violent is so thin, and so determined by the smallest things. There’s a very plausible world where I got punched or the CNA got kicked and then the patient got drugged or restrained, and everyone in the situation is worse off than they’d been before. There’s a very plausible world where he didn’t get the care he needed because I was scared of him. That didn’t happen. I’m not saying we absolutely crushed it, he definitely was still in a bad way by the time I had to leave, but no one got hurt and he got his medicine and his nurse got to finish dealing with her completely unrelated emergency before she had to come deal with this potential new one.

That’s what I thought about when Mom asked me how I was doing, and I thought this Terry Pratchett quote that had been bouncing around my head all night: “You do the job that’s in front of you.” So that’s how I’m doing. Whatever all that means, that’s how I’m doing.

I am not closely following the election results tonight, but I am occasionally seeing flashes of them out of the corner of my eye. The most obvious sign that things aren’t going well right now is the complete lack of celebrating on my dash. I know what tumblr looks like when it’s happy. Maybe I’ll go to bed tonight and see something different in the morning. I hope to god that is the case. But I’m thinking about the way I’m thinking right now, and I want to get some stuff down before the future kicks in.

In 2016 I was in a period of my life I affectionately refer to as as my fuckup era. I wasn’t even fucking up really. More just chilling out and falling short of the vague expectations I’d had about what I was supposed to be doing after I graduated college. While my friends from college rented apartments in the city and got jobs that didn’t supply you with a uniform shirt, I lived at home and worked as a barista at a fancy movie theater. That’s a real job you can do for almost five years. I didn’t have a clue what the back half of my twenties should look like. The only long term plan I had in my life was moving out west with my best friend, and my plan for finding a job once I was out there was basically to cross my fingers and hope.

Those days weren’t bad on the whole, but it felt like I was not actually living a life so much as I was goofing off in the waiting room. Sometimes that felt embarrassing, sometimes it felt fun, and sometimes it felt like I was completely pointless to the world.

On 2016’s Election Day, I went to bed early. After watching the votes come in, I needed the night to be over. I woke in a world that felt different than it had been the night before—not just in the actuality of who would be president but down to its foundations. I realized for the first time how much hope I’d had in human nature because now I didn’t feel it anymore. It’s almost silly when I think about it—so many horrible things had already happened that year, people had done horrible things as long as there have been people, and I didn’t think I was naive to that—but something clicked into place that morning.

It felt the same way my world had changed a year earlier, in 2015 during my last semester of college. My college victory lap felt like a prolonged downward spiral. Very early in the morning on a Monday, after pulling an all-nighter and overwhelmed by self-loathing that I could not just motivate myself to work on a paper that had been my only thought all weekend, I self-harmed for the first time in a way that was impossible to pretend it was anything else. Earlier that weekend, I’d tried staving off the urges drawing or writing on my arm, something that did (and does) usually work. I’d written this quote in silver sharpie on my forearm: “Good is not a thing you are. It's a thing you do.”

I picked that quote from the Ms. Marvel comics and liked the words so much, I thought that I wouldn’t be willing to purposefully mess it up by hurting myself there. Didn’t work. They just made me feel more ashamed of myself as I did it.

That was the worst I had ever felt. Then, on the Friday of that week, a friend of mine was senselessly, brutally murdered.

It doesn’t feel now like there was ever a time before her death. My memoir class is now where I wrote about her. My favorite professor is now the one who held me as I cried. My final thesis, the culmination of my history degree, never got finished and certainly never got polished. I turned it what I had and got an A minus. Sometimes I think of rereading that paper to see if that’s the grade it actually deserved. We hadn’t been the closest friends, but my name was still on the email admin sent to professors, listing students who might be emotionally affected by this tragic event. Grace’s murder hangs over every memory I have with her and everything she ever touched. It feels like its own type of obliteration to leave her reduced to her death.

Grace wanted to be a lawyer because she believed in justice and also liked arguing. She could be rude when she wasn’t interested in what you were saying. When you caught her attention, you felt like the most fascinating person in the room. She was so proud of being Jewish. I watched her become proud of being gay. She was so universally friendly that it took me a year to realize that she actually liked specifically me. She had a somewhat silly laugh and an astonishingly luminous smile.

I thought less of the world and the people in it because of how she died. Trump’s election in 2016 felt like that.

After he won, I left stasis. From November through December, I thought harder about my future than I ever had before. Who did I want to be? What did I most value? What did I think was worth protecting? What work wouldn’t kill me to do? At one point, in presumably a fit of madness, I thought, “what if I got into politics.” Epiphany eventually hit me. By the time of Trump’s inauguration, I was already enrolled at community college, getting my pre-reqs for nursing school.

Now it’s election night again, eight years later. I live on the west coast with my best friend, in a house that we bought together. I work as a nurse in a hospital in a city where there are homeless encampments off every highway and someone begging for change on every corner. Meanwhile, there’s Palestine. Meanwhile there’s Sudan. Meanwhile refugees drown in the sea and border patrol shoots jugs of water. Even hurricanes have human cruelty now.

I don’t think people are inherently good or the universe inherently kind. But I am very good at tricking myself into thinking it for a little while, and when I do, I can remember the a specific feeling from Friday of my senior year, from that morning in November— how fucking hard the disappointment hit me because I had expected people to be better than this. It makes me want to be better than that.

I believe, and hope that I always will, that we can make a better world. I don’t know what it looks like, but I think I will see it in my lifetime. Those of us who can believe such things owe a bit of that naïveté to the world—not to excuse atrocities or think them impossible but to believe that we can stop them at all. You have to have a couple people sprinkled around who are genuinely shocked when people do bad things. It’s not that the pessimists are wrong, but you need the occasional counterbalance. I want to be a reasonable cynic’s pleasant surprise.

Every shift, I interact with people at their lowest and worst. I see the direct pipeline from pain to anger to violence, and how fragile that pipeline can be. So many situations can be changed by things as small as a warm blanket or a kind word. Violence can be quite easy to avert. Crises can be quite simply to resolve. Even when I know that whatever I do that shift will not change the circumstances of a person’s life, I think that what I do that shift still matters.

I’m lying in bed, writing this post instead of looking at the news. I wonder how tonight will change me. Been thinking about what I’ll do if Trump wins. Been thinking about how whatever I think I need to do under Trump will still need to be done if Harris clutches out a victory. I guess this is a pessimist’s optimism: to a degree the election doesn’t matter. Good is not a thing you are. It is a thing you do. Our better world will always take a lot of work.

But please god please, why can’t it be just a little easier to do it?

#b.#nursing blog

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chasm-connected · 2 months ago

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hey i just need to. i just need to do a medical vent real quick excuse me a second. actually this is long its far more than a second.

it would be cool if everything wasnt fucking up at once so i could actually take care of something before moving onto the next thing but okay.

my ulnar nerve has been shot for a year and i already mentioned this when i was sent to a new PT doctor who kept repeating 'theres just nothing more i can do for you ):' and acted like PT would do nothing but sent me to PT anyways* but um it's real bad. it feels like boiling when it's set off. apparently it's just fibro. but that means my fibro is getting drastically worse considering this, plus how it mimicked all the symptoms of a heart attack in june. plus yesterday

*yeah she... sent me to the wrong PT category and didnt actually write down what the PT was for despite that i repeatedly gave them very specific instructions while telling them that PT requires very specific instructions on body parts needed or they cant actually help if they get hurt in unrelated scenarios. because insurance. i am 100% sure that they wrote down unrelated body parts to PT that i told them were in danger of getting hurt from chronic pain because of this. i guess she deleted the list that the nurse made.

had what i think is a really severe fibro flare yesterday + a neurological episode. was at the dentist and when they tapped my teeth it sent shocks down my entire legs. this is new. when i got home i had severe confusion and hallucinations. contacted the neurologist to get moved from the migraine specialist back to the regular neurologist. my neurologist left and no one told me. 8I but they'll put me through to someone else so i'm not sure why they told me that anyways. by this point my feet went numb so i told them this wasn't great news and to schedule it. they stopped being numb by now. it really hurt.

had to go to an allergist because i'm having a reaction to every antipsychotic and also water and my lymph nodes are acting up. allergist recognizes water reaction is that i have a reaction to heat. um. no idea what the antipsychotic or lymph node reaction is. but i can't take hot showers anymore which is what i do for fibro.

my GP has now asked if i have MCAS.

why does she know what MCAS is.

my psych's schedule system is broken no matter what i do and everything they try to do to fix it makes it worse. i don't feel like getting into this one. just assume that anything you're picturing is correct and that there's like 10 other versions of it. i ran out of a med because of this.

i'm losing weight which is interesting because i literally do nothing all day. i have too much malaise to exercise. i am literally in bed all day. people are finally starting to take this seriously.

i don't really want to talk about my reproductive health but an organ hurts and i am not getting a call back about it.

anyways i told my GP about all of this and she gave me 20 pages of bloodwork. aight so while i did not literally count, i started counting and gave up when it was over 10 and there was still quite a lot

i have never gotten more than 1-2 pages of bloodwork.

what the fuck

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cassowary-rapture · 2 months ago

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Back from NC and kind of sad

Bugfest was wonderful, as always, but seeing happy science people with science jobs...I used to feel like I could do that, like it was only a matter of time and some schooling, but then COVID -> bad relationship -> bad financial and very very bad mental health stuff. But I'm certainly passionate/obsessive and smart enough. I'd just need medication and academic accommodations. Let your obsessions consume and drive you, right

Sitting at a presentation on spiders and being like "Wow this guy doesn't know about Joro spiders or nuptial gifts" but that guy was an employee at a science museum and not an arachnologist but probably an entomologist so calm down

TW vague talk of murder/suicide and (unrelated) somewhat detailed talk of body disposal

Also a somewhat thwarted desire to move back. I didn't even ask T about possibly living on his land someday because he's not even living there and his unstable ex will be there until at least June and I'm not trying to get murdered or have to prevent or witness a murder-suicide, which is actually a valid concern, which is very fucked up, but that's his business

But yeah by the way you really don't need to give anyone a second chance or a grace period if they threaten to kill you. Even if you're a very kind, generous person! Even if you love them! Even if they say they have nowhere else to go!

R did offer to help me commit...benefits fraud, I guess? Should have seen that coming as they have the very least respect for the law or the federal government of all my friends, and that is really saying something

Speaking of which, T suggested alternatives to donating my corpse to the body farm because "You want to help cops?" I think helping homicide detectives and medical examiners is a bit different from helping like...riot squads or whatever, but he did have some good suggestions that would ensure that I could still be eaten by bugs, which is the main thing. He mentioned some kind of cage that would prevent larger animals, like birds or possums, from getting to it

TW end

I guess one thing I could do is apply to NC colleges, take out loans, and live on campus wherever I get in but I would need to get back on ADHD meds for that and for that I need health insurance etc., etc. and god I need meds to get through that. I feel tired just thinking about it

#text #completely normal post-vacation thoughts lol

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blowingsoapbubbles · 5 months ago

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What do you do when you want to climb out of your own skin

Today started out pretty great, actually. I woke up at 5 when my alarm went off and not only did I feel relatively rested, but I realized that the allegedly planned power outage didn't happen. So, my sleep never got interrupted, my fan never shut off and unrelated to the power but very related to my sleep quality, I didn't snap a post off of my dental appliance in my sleep.

I can feel myself clenching my teeth while I sleep some nights. Most nights, if I'm honest. Which is annoying as according to my out of network dentist, should not happen. This high tech, $4,000 piece of acrylic hand crafted for me specifically with state of the art lasers and 3D imaging, is supposed to prevent me from grinding and clenching at night, and help me breathe better.

It does help me breathe better, but I still clench and grind. And when I bring it up, it's explained to me that, "Well, in a perfect scenario, you wouldn't," as if that makes it okay that I spent a year paying it off and months getting adjusted to it only to learn that it isn't exactly what I was promised.

In any case, I didn't break a post off. So I do not have to glue it back together for the third time this week.

I woke up refreshed all things considered. I got out of bed, put in my contacts, dropped my dental appliance into the cleaning solution and followed the little entourage my cats do every single morning as they walk me to the food dish so I can fulfill my obligations as cat mom and feed them, for they have never ever been fed ever.

I got my energy drink, I took my meds, I checked my farm in Klondike and I reviewed what I had to get done today.

Wash the car, get chicken food, cut A's hair, put on her press on nails, meet with the pet sitter, take a 7a.m. conference call, write social media posts for my unpaid side hustle, fold laundry, etc. etc. etc.

I text my partner, tell him good morning and send videos of the cats. He'll see them eventually, I get up before he does.

Then the car. Easy, no problems, I love that car. Washed and half way waxed before I had to stop for the call.

Got on the call, simple. No one really wanted to talk so it was done and over in 20 minutes and we went back to the zero communication this job requires.

Go back to finish the car, get a good morning from my partner finally, text him back a few times, updating on the car progress, telling him I need to make a run into town to get chicken food, that I'm about to take a quick shower.

He replies with, "Can I call?"

I say sure, thinking I just needed the quickest rinse, I can hop in before he even sees this response and be practically done before he calls. And that's more or less true.

He calls and says, "Just wanted to tell you I love you, I can let you go if you're busy," and I reply that I am, but I always feel bad when someone acts like I said I was too busy to talk to them. I am busy, but I'm always busy, you asked if you could call, I said yes so clearly I'm not so busy I can't talk. Otherwise, I would have said that typically. So, I feel a little put out.

Does he not *want* to talk to me? Why would he set it up like that? So that I immediately have to like, reassure him I'm not too busy, even though by accepting the call, I did say that, didn't I?

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We had a little disagreement the night before last, so small in fact that he didn't even realize I was upset. I tried to let it go, but upon reflection, I couldn't. I felt very disrespected when it happened and when I brought it up, it was brushed away.

I wanted to bring it up again, the next morning but swallowed that desire to be understood because he had a very important day ahead of him and I didn't want to trouble him with my feelings. So, I let it go, and tried to genuinely stop thinking about it and I think I did manage to do that. I felt okay, I thought, that was a silly thing to get so upset about, sure he brushed it off and that's actually what upsets me, because it's a pattern but like, I can learn to accept things and is it really worth a whole discussion and would I actually feel better if I brought it up again, in fact, I feel fine now so I should just drop it.

But, I wasn't fine and when he called me later that day, I felt really cheated out of being heard and understood, and since he was no longer doing the very important thing, I figured it was an okay time to bring it up. He had a long drive home, this was an ideal time to have what might be a little longer of a discussion.

Turns out, no and I was wrong and now I have to apologize for making him feel bad for feeling disrespected and I regret bringing it up and he "was just trying to help," but I never asked for help so now he, "will never try to help again, fine," which obviously wasn't what I wanted and now I've ruined the whole thing.

He tells me he's sorry, but he justifies what he did and I don't understand why I can't just express my hurt and be heard and understood, and he probably feels like no matter what he does it's never good enough. And now we're both sad again.

Again, I let it go, I shouldn't have brought it up, I'm the worst girlfriend ever and now I feel obligated to be extra sweet to make up for hurting my partner's feelings for not being grateful for his unsolicited help that didn't feel helpful in fact, made me feel like an outsider in my own romantic relationship. But, I should have just let it go, it wasn't that important.

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So, this morning, when he calls me, I'm sure I'm finally over the thing. But I'm not. He gives his opinion on something absolutely unimportant to our relationship but because it slightly pushes back on something I said 10 seconds ago, it feels like a personal attack and I'm immediately right back where I was last night where I'm wondering why on earth you're trying to justify the actions that caused me to feel insecure in this relationship and why do you always have to contradict every single thing I say, why do I constantly feel like I have to fight to be heard, why are you even taking the side of the thing that upset me...

and there it is.

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I don't know what happened to me when I was growing up that makes me feel like no one ever understands me and worse, never tries to understand me. I don't know what it was.

But I know it's making my adult life feel like I can't make any progress in my relationships and interactions with people.

I don't know if it's even me, but I sure as hell will feel the shame and guilt of causing harm, even if I didn't really do anything. Especially because I don't know if I did anything.

Am I too sensitive? Am I right? Did I express myself in a healthy and mature manner? Am I doing what I'm supposed to but I'm trying to do it with someone who is incapable of doing the same? Is it my job to help them learn? Why are they like that? Why do they meet me with shame and silence anytime I say, "That hurt my feelings, I wish you wouldn't do that," is it because I'm wrong?

I don't know.

But what I do know is I feel like I've worked so hard and done so much reflection, but the near constant feeling of never being truly understood makes me think I've done it all wrong and after all this work, will I ever do it right? Or am I doing it right with the wrong person? I do think I have "wrong people" in my life, but I don't think he is. Which leads me to ask myself, "what more can I do?"

Can I convince myself that I'm understood, even if it doesn't feel like it? Why is it even important?

I sometimes miss my walls. I miss the ability to shut people out and not care if they understood or not. That I could just be mean to people when they hurt me and never felt any obligation to express it in a vulnerable way with the goal of learning how to be with someone. I wasn't necessarily happier. But I felt like I at least understood myself.

#writing #personal #childhood trauma #self reflection

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