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diabetes-reversal-clinic · 1 year ago

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How to Overcome Diabetes Burnout

It’s normal to be annoyed by constant blood sugar control. Here’s how you can take care of yourself and get back on track.

“I felt like I couldn’t do it any longer.” So I didn’t,” explains Sarah Kaye, a 35-year-old South Carolina mother of two who was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes as a preschooler.

Sarah is discussing burnout. Diabetes fatigue. To someone living with diabetes, the word can imply a variety of things, and it can be sparked by any number of events or by nothing more than the daily physical and mental load of living with this disease.

What Exactly Is Diabetes Burnout?

“In my own practise,” says Dr. Soumya Hullannavar, Lead Ayurveda Endocrine Specialist at Diabetes Reversal Clinics & EliteAyurveda Clinics, “I’ve met far too many people who have chosen to ignore their diabetes for years or, in some cases, decades.”

“They are young and old, male and female, new to diabetes and veterans.” They are not evil, ignorant, or weak. They are ordinary people who are dealing with diabetes for understandable reasons. And their fights take various forms.”

According to Dr. Soumya, while some people feel helpless and defeated by the condition, others’ burnout may be the consequence of denial and “never truly accepting the reality of diabetes in their lives.”

However, burnout can take any form, regardless of intensity or duration.

Sarah has experienced burnout at least five or six times in the past 32 years of pricking her fingers, counting carbs, taking insulin, and hoping it’s close to the amount her pancreas would’ve given her in order to avoid frustrating high blood sugars and exhausting low blood sugars.

“I think of burnout as the inability to take care of myself due to mental and physical exhaustion,” Sarah adds. “It’s as if a door in my brain has closed, preventing me from accessing the location where everything I know about diabetes care and diabetes management is stored.”

“I can’t enter because my body can’t take the toll of swinging back and forth in a never-ending cycle from happiness and elation to sadness, anger, guilt, and frustration.” “Like a clothes dryer, but slower.”

Burnout is an individual experience, but it is frequently accompanied by feelings of shame and guilt. Others with diabetes may become judgmental, viewing burnout as a sign of weakness or failure, but it’s not that easy.

Burnout can be exhausting for some people. You manage to keep your blood sugars within normal ranges, but you aren’t as diligent about checking them as you should be.

Others experience burnout as an unpleasant and overpowering sense of defeat, believing they can’t possible keep up with the demands of life with diabetes, whether type 1 or type 2.

Others experience burnout as a result of the difficult combination of managing a very demanding disease with other real-life demands. You, like every other human being, survive by dealing. Coping for some means taking a break from diabetes control to focus on another aspect of your life.

Diabetes Burnout Factors

“Diabetes burnout means I’ve grown tired of everything I have to do and think about in order to try to control my diabetes,” says Kate Cornell, 65, who has had type 2 diabetes since 2005. “It means I’m sick and tired of talking about it, thinking about it, and making the necessary sacrifices.”

Sarah and Kate would both tell you that they know exactly what caused their burnout. Kate’s burnout is the result of caring for her 97-year-old mother while also dealing with her own recently diagnosed fibromyalgia.

“I admit I haven’t given my diabetes much thought in nearly a year. “I made the decision to eat whatever I wanted and deal with the blood sugars later,” she adds. “I still check them at least once a day and try to eat a lower carb diet, but I haven’t been thinking about anything long-term.” That is not good for someone who has diabetes.”

Burnout struck Sarah after a lengthy period of trying her absolute best and attaining her objectives.

“By far my worst burnout period was after my first pregnancy,” she explains. “I knew I had to be on my game while trying to get pregnant.” I held myself under control for a few of years before discovering we had conceived.”

Burnout began to set in about the time she found out she was pregnant—certainly not the time to take a break and replenish her diabetes management energy reserves.

“And thus began the most nerve-racking diabetes management period of my life,” Sarah explains. “I was concerned about more than simply my health. I was constantly concerned about hurting my child. Unfortunately, I never experienced the joy of pregnancy or the sense of awe that many women do.”

Sarah gave birth to a healthy baby boy, but she was fatigued, and the roller-coaster blood sugar levels that come with diabetes control while breastfeeding and adjusting to life with a newborn took their toll.

For the next nine months, Sarah tested her blood sugar once or twice a day, constantly finding a high figure that she’d only treat with insulin if it was above 300 mg/dL to prevent diabetic ketoacidosis. DKA is a serious condition in which poisonous levels of ketones are created as a result of a severe insulin deficiency.

Managing Diabetes Burnout

While it is critical to recognise and overcome your own burnout, it is also critical to take the appropriate precautions to keep yourself safe and out of the hospital. Long-term burnout that leads to long-term high blood sugar levels increases your chance for all of the various diabetes issues you’ve been warned about: neuropathy, retinopathy, and nephropathy, in addition to the emerging concerns of DKA and dangerously high blood sugar levels.

Rather than inspiring change, this list of cautions may, sadly, exacerbate the burnout load. Dr. Soumya suggests “diabetes vacations” to assist alleviate or prevent burnout, but emphasises the distinction between a healthy diabetes vacation and an unsafe respite.

“A safe vacation is brief and involves planning ahead of time so that your diabetes control is not jeopardized,” explains Dr. Soumya. “This does not imply that you should discontinue all diabetes care.” You could, for example, opt to take a night off from your diabetes-friendly food plan once a week. A pleasant vacation can replenish your energy for diabetes management.”

Dr. Soumya defines a dangerous diabetic vacation as one that lasts a long period and may endanger your health: “Perhaps you have been ignoring your diabetes for years, or you take your medications faithfully but decide you don’t ever want to check your blood sugars again.”

Seeking aid and support is critical for those who are caught in a burnout phase that may easily be classed as harmful. If you are unable to acknowledge to your care team that you are significantly struggling, inform a trusted friend or family member. Asking for help does not require you to snap out of your burnout. It simply means that you will acknowledge and work through it in a secure environment with the necessary support.

It is critical to include your care team in a plan for returning to competent diabetes control after burnout. For example, if you’re tired of attempting to keep your A1c near 7.0, talk to your team about aiming for blood sugars that will result in an 8.0 A1c instead.

The point is that involving your team may be a convenient approach to alleviate the load and duties of diabetes care while also keeping you safe. The more severe your burnout, the more important it may be to get professional therapy from a therapist who can assist you.

Sarah achieved a happy medium by keeping her blood sugar below 300 mg/dL and focusing on the fundamentals of diabetes management: taking her insulin, avoiding excessive highs and lows, and checking her blood sugar on a regular basis.

“I didn’t care about correcting mild highs because I had a baby to take care of, and the last thing I wanted to do was go low and not be able to take care of him,” she explains. “I’d let my sugars cruise in the 200s without blinking.” I used to blind-bolus for carbs, rarely even taking the time to guess at the carb-count when I took my insulin.

“Diabetes was the furthest thing from my mind, and I didn’t want it to be.” I despised diabetes and everything that came with it.”

Sarah’s postpartum burnout lasted nine months before she felt ready to return to the everyday rigors of diabetes.

“I truly believe that diabetic burnout is similar to the proverb, ‘Depression is not a sign of weakness; it’s a symptom of being strong for too long.’ Diabetes burnout is very similar—trying to be perfect for too long can lead to a fast fall into diabetes burnout.”

Kate, whose burnout cloud is just now beginning to lift after several months, believes she is exiting the phase as gradually as she entered it.

“Be kind to yourself,” Kate advises. “It was always in the back of my mind that this trend couldn’t go on forever, but I needed time to let other things in my life settle down first.”

Our Outlook –

How are we able to Treat Diabetes Completely?

“Madhumeha” is the term for Diabetes in Ayurveda, which means ‘Sweet urine’. The manifestation of diabetes is through thirst or urination. According to Ayurveda, due to accumulation of Vata Dosha. Vata dosha accumulates in the large intestine and travels to the pancreas, which hampers its functioning.

Sometimes, Pitta Dosha also leads to diabetes. This is when Pitta gets accumulated in the small intestine before moving to the liver and may cause damage to pancreas. As the main constituent of Pitta is Agni, it burns out pancreas leading to Diabetes.

If the above things are taken into consideration, the treatment of Diabetes in Ayurveda starts with proper cleansing of the body and balancing of doshas. The treatment includes herbal combinations that are prepared based on individual Prakruti and Vikruti analysis. Ie. The treatment is based on a person’s body composition & which dosha is dominant. The treatments like Dhara, Udwarthanam, Thalam, etc are followed to reverse diabetes. The treatment also includes Panchakarma & Yoga procedures to address the root cause of disease. We have seen many patients successfully reversing Diabetes and now living a healthy life.

Unlike other treatment procedures that jump straight to symptom management, we address the root-cause of the disease. Our treatment for Diabetes has proved to achieve a near cure and symptom-free state. We focus on diet, use of potent herbs, meditation, massage with herbal oils and yoga. These classical ayurveda practices have proven & shown sustained results in our Diabetes Treatment.

Medically reviewed by Dr. Soumya Hullannavar, Lead Ayurveda Endocrine Specialist at Diabetes Reversal Clinics & EliteAyurveda Clinics. With over 15 years of experience in treating endocrine & diabetes cases

Visit diabetesreversal.clinic for additional details.

Know more about Ayurveda Diabetes Reversal.

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cursed-and-quirkless · 3 years ago

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Chapter 1 - The Curse

Hello all! Welcome to my first MHA fic! This is the first part of a series about if Izuku was a quirkless vigilante, because I really love that trope.

TW: This fic, the first part especially, has some themes of injury, death/being on the verge of death, and ideas of suicide. No suicide is attempted, however. If these ideas bother you, please be cautious. To skip the first part, do not read until the first “~” symbol. There is also weird church stuff (that’ll make sense when you read), so if that makes you uncomfortable please be cautious. Thank you, hope you enjoy!

Ao3: queenofliterature

They say before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. Izuku never thought that was accurate until now.

There had been plenty of times he had almost died. When a shot rang and the muzzle of a gun flashed, the only thing Izuku thought was run, dodge, never anything about who he was, or how he got here.

Now though, now he understood.

Izuku blinked his tired eyes, focusing on the grey sky. The city was surprisingly peaceful, though maybe that was the falling snow coating the sounds of the bustling life under him. Or the ringing in his ears.

Eyes swollen with exhaustion refused to close for too long. If he fell asleep now, he would never wake up. And as much as he lied to himself, Izuku wasn’t ready for that, not yet.

Hypothermia was settling quickly into his bones, his shallow breaths obvious against the cold night. But the gentle flakes tickled his nose, and all he felt was relief when they touched his fevered skin. Besides, he wouldn’t be dying of the cold tonight, the pools of blood gathering steadily underneath him was a testament to that.

Maybe if Izuku tried hard enough, he could roll off the edge. The rooftop had no railing, and if he stretched his arm just enough, he could dangle his hand over the streets below. But that wouldn’t do, he wanted to see the sky when his body finally let go, and his eyes closed and never reopened. Besides, Izuku could barely even move his fingers, let alone roll his entire body. No… he was stuck here.

It wouldn’t be long now.

Perhaps it was the fact that his blood was sluggishly trailing out of his body this time instead of the threat of instant death but…

His mind began to drift.

He was happy.

The middle class apartment he lived in with his mother and father always had the drapes thrown open, rays of sun keeping the apartment a comfortable temperature and bathing the bright green house plants.

His mother would playfully yell and scream, the damsel in distress. His father and him were the heroes.

He doesn’t remember much of his father, but he remembers the warm feeling of his chest, of the hot and smoky breath that would tickle his ears and ruffle his hair.

His father’s hands would hold him in the air as he flew to rescue his mother from the villains that had taken her.

Most of his peers probably wouldn’t want to spend their 5th birthday in the doctor’s office, but to Izuku it was the best present his parents could give him. He should have had a quirk by now, Kaccan said so. But if it was taking this long, it should have been cool and powerful! Just like Kaccan’s!

Izuku buzzed in excitement as the doctor read his file and looked at the x-rays they had taken in the big machine they put him in. Maybe he’d get telepathy, or fire, or a combination! Kaccan and him would grow up and be an unstoppable team and they’d share the rank for Number One hero (no matter what Kaccan said) and they’d save people and fight villains and-

“Quirkless.”

And just like that Izuku’s world shattered. The doctor’s uncaring drawl barely pierced his mind as his stomach lurched.

“W-what?” His mother questioned tearfully. His father simply sat there, eyes clouded with something Izuku would never understand. Sure 20% of the world was quirkless, but most were old and that number was dying out everyday. Only .01% of Japan’s population remained quirkless. And Izuku was now one of them.

When Izuku awoke the next day, his father was gone, and his mother wasn’t surprised.

There was no explosion, no shouted words, no hits or screams. His father was simply gone, any traces of him lingered like a ghost. Sometimes Izuku thought he had made up his father, the only proof he had that the man existed were the pictures Mom had kept in the trunk beside her bed.

It was raining the night he got diagnosed, as if the heavens were weeping for the shattered dream of a crushed child. He sat for hours watching the video of All Might saving all those people at the factory, hitting the replay button until his fingers hurt.

“Because I am here! Because I am here! Because I am here!”

Izuku heard the door creek softly behind him, but he didn’t turn around, he didn’t need to. “S-see that Mom?” Izuku’s tiny voice cracked, and he finally turned around. His mother already had tears springing to her eyes, and Izuku would realize later that’s the moment he would never see his father again.

“He always has a smile on his face, no matter how bad things get.” Izuku’s voice was slowly breaking down along with the little boy. “Even when things seem impossible, he never gives up.” Izuku will never forget the look on his mother’s face, the pain and the sorrow.

“Do you think… I could be a hero too?” Izuku already knew the answer to that question, he saw the answer in his mother’s eyes. His mother rushed forward, gripping him tightly and nuzzling into his hair, murmuring apology after apology. Her touch burned and the ache in his chest choked him, but Izuku didn’t bother to fight her off.

Izuku doesn’t even remember his father’s last words to him.

Izuku and his mother went to church the next day.

His mother was aching for a sense of normalcy, and some foolish part of Izuku believed his father would be there waiting for them.

His father was half japanese, but he never told Izuku what his other half was. Hisashi’s parents and siblings chose to follow the Christian faith, though what branch Izuku also didn’t know, he never paid attention. There was a small church half an hour away from the Midoriya apartment, and Hisashi thought it would be good for the small family to have a sense of community.

His mother must have opened up that day to the pastor before Sunday Service, because that was the first time Izuku was called a curse to humanity.

The little boy sat in the pew, hunching over as every word the pastor said pierced his heart.

“The quirkless are a scourge, a curse, a remnant of the days of old. They are a reminder of the sins of man!” Izuku’s eyes pricked at the cheers coming from around him. “We must stay strong in the face of adversity!” The cheers were stronger this time. Whatever his mother told the pastor must have sunk deep into the man’s skin, because they spent the next hour listening to the talks of plagues and scourge and punishment that were the quirkless population, all while he looked at the little green-haired boy.

After the service, all Izuku wanted to do was disappear. Going home would mean facing the unnatural quiet that now suffocated the once bright household, and staying here meant facing the lingering glares and whispers. His mother was in the restroom preparing for the semi-long trip back when Izuku heard footsteps approaching.

“Hello, Izuku.” The pastor greeted with a soft smile. He supposed it should be comforting, but all Izuku felt was fear.

“H-hello.” A meek voice greeted back.

“Your mother told me of your condition. I just wanted you to know I meant every word I said. But I can help.” The pastor offered, and despite the dangerous glint in the man’s eyes, Izuku perked up.

“You can?” Izuku asked cautiously. Maybe this would make Dad come back! And he could make Mom happy again! Izuku’s heart clenched when a hand grabbed his wrist.

“Come, child, it's not your fault. The children of God are innocent, you are being punished for the misgivings of your ancestors.” The gentle words of the pastor did nothing to ease the bile growing in Izuku’s throat. The more Izuku fought, the tighter the bruising grips became.

“W-wait.” Izuku protested as he was dragged away from the restroom. “My Mom! She’ll wonder where I am!”

“It will be a nice surprise for her, don’t you think?” The pastor ignored the protests and continued dragging the boy through the church.

“What-what’s gonna happen?”

“Simple, child. We’ll get the Devil out of you. It may hurt but I promise you’ll be better for it.” The pastor reassured. Thi wasn’t right. Mom and Dad said never go with strangers! But… the pastor wasn’t a stranger, he said he could help?

“Can we ask my Mom, p-please?” Izuku gave a powerful tug, and that seemed to be the last straw.

“Foolish child! Your mother does not understand what needs to be done! I do!” The others in the church startled at the noise, but turned away when they saw what was happening.

Izuku didn’t know what was happening, but he didn’t like it! In a last attempt, Izuku lashed out and bit the man’s hand, pulling away with a gasp when the pastor yanked his hand back.

“You evil child!” The pastor screamed as Izuku ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. He remembered the way to the restrooms, he just hoped his mother would be there. He wanted to go home! He wanted to play hero and be held by his dad and be tucked in by his mom when he fell asleep on the couch!

“Mom!” Izuku screamed when he spotted green hair. The woman quickly turned around from the couple she seemed to be frantically talking too. Izuku’s own eyes matched the tears that were streaming down his mother’s face.

“Izuku!” Inko yelled in relief as her little boy crashed into her. “Baby, where were you? I was worried sick!” Inko cried.

“M-mom, the p-pastor, h-he, a-and-” Izuku couldn’t get any of the story through the spasming of his little lungs. Through hiccuping sobs, Izuku heard the frantic footsteps of the pastor approach him, and he buried himself further into his mother’s neck.

“Pastor? What-what happened?” Inko hesitated at the teeth marks on the hand of the pastor. Her little boy wouldn;t do that for anything.

“H-he said.” Izuku’s little sobs broke her heart.

“Said what, Baby?” Inko coaxed, ignoring the man above them.

“G-gonna get the Devil out.” Inko’s heart dropped, knowing the implication.

“You were gonna beat him?” The horrified whisper reached the poster’s ears and he scoffed.

“Not him, the scourge. The boy may feel pain, but it would make him better.” The pastor declared. Perhaps if Inko hadn’t already been in pieces, she would have yelled at him. Perhaps if her husband hadn’t left and her son wasn’t falling apart she would have defended her son, but for now she had enough.

“Izuku, we’re leaving.” She said to the pastor just as much as her son, and Izuku saw the glance towards his blackened wrist.

It was the first time his mother ignored a bruise, but it would not be the last.

The drive home was quiet, and Izuku didn’t think he would ever get used to the silence that now permeated his new life.

“Mom?” Izuku spoke up, his timid voice uncomfortable with breaking pure silence. “Everything is going to be okay, right?” He just needed to hear those words as his world was crumbling beneath him, ‘It will be okay’.

“Izuku, my baby, there will be many more like him. From now on I want you to walk to and from school with Katsuki. No detours, nothing.” Izuku nodded at his mom’s serious voice. “We’re gonna get you a phone, I want you to text me everyday at lunch, and before and after school, and when you get home.” Izuku nodded again, and kept doing so as more rules were given to him.

When they got home that afternoon, his mother shut down. From afternoon till night, Inko Midoriya held an empty tea cup, not having the energy to fill it. She sat at the table, and tried to remember the deep voice of her husband that floated around the kitchen like embers, and the light and airy voice of her child that bounced against the walls.

Now all she heard was the stone cold silence of a shattered household.

Meanwhile, Izuku sat at the computer. Mom didn't bother to enforce computer time. So he watched the video, over and over again until it somehow pierced the unfeeling void that was beginning to set in. It never did.

“Because I am here! Because I am here! Because I am here!”

He realized that night with a bitter numbness he was already forgetting what his father’s laugh sounded like.

Izuku was finally beginning to understand, he knew he was a plague on his mother and father’s life, an infestation in his own skin.

He knew he was a curse.

~~~

Disclaimer: Nothing against any religion. Just as long as you don’t use it to hurt others I don’t care what religion you are/aren’t, this specific church, however, was very radical and was based loosely on unfortunate experiences I had in churches with some personal issues of mine. I just thought it would be interesting to explore how radical groups like this would see quirklessness.

I don't usually do this, but each chapter is gonna have a song I think that fits it!

Chapter Song: i can't breathe by Bea Miller

I have a Discord, and this fic has a channel! Same with Tumblr

Discord: https://discord.gg/UpWvDzKC5R Tumblr: cursed-and-quirkless

#quirkless midoriya izuku #quirkless deku #quirkless discrimination #quirkless izuku #quirkless au #cursed au #please read warning #izuku will be adopted eventually #its a surprise who #not Aizawa #although I love those stories #vigilante deku

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petri808 · 5 years ago

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Fandom: Fairy Tail. Rating: Mature. Nalu AU ANGST trigger warning. Based on this post. Just under 10k words

Lucy Heartfilia is diagnosed with a heart defect. Stuck in the hospital waiting on the transplant list, there is only one thing bringing any light to her dreary world; a volunteer named Natsu Dragneel who truly becomes her bittersweet savior.

@uzumaki2810 Here you go, I hope you like it :) Also thank you to the angst queen @doginshoe IM SORRY I FORGOT TO ADD THIS MESSAGE ;-; she beta’d and bore the tears with me to make sure it was a good story :)

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It all started back in her last year of middle school when puberty really kicked into overdrive and she developed a well-endowed chest. She assumed the little pricks of pain related to the added weight cause they sure gave her a backache if she pushed herself too hard. Exercise was overly exhausting, so there went any chances of making the cheer squad in high school. Not that Lucy was really interested in sports, but by the start of high school she realized any physical activity needed to be avoided. But she didn’t want to worry her father since it was a random pain that would only surface if she exerted herself; ergo it was her boob’s fault, and she kept the pain to herself.

As time passed, and her high school years carried on, Lucy did her best to ignore the symptoms, even when something new manifested itself. Fatigue… she was studying too hard. Rapid heartbeat… well, there was that cute boy that just walked by. Shortness of breath when she laid down… it’s just from the weight of her chest. Each and every time, Lucy found a rational explanation. She buried her nose in her studies as an outlet, which she really didn’t mind so much. Her favorite thing to do in the world was to write quick fantasy stories she’d make up, and she’d often spend her breaks holed up in the library researching some new topic of dragons or fairies or whatever had caught her attention.

“Ugghhhh,” Lucy flinches as the blinding white light breaks through the surface of her vision. She shields her eyes and slowly opens them but can only manage a tiny squint. Her mind was groggy, and she swore her limbs felt like dead weights. “W-Where am I?”

She hears the muffled sound of her father’s voice calling for a doctor. Why was there a slight ringing in her ear? Something about she’s awake now, hurry? The rest had been too muffled to understand. Had she been asleep? Lucy was completely confused. But the light… the light was so bright!

“Ms. Heartfilia? Ms. Heartfilia, can you hear me?”

It was a strange male voice talking to her. Where did her father go?

“Yes,” she croaks out, flinching as her body is coming out of its slumber and suddenly a sharp pain hits her again. Lucy winces, this was worse than before.

“Ms. Heartfilia, do you know where you are?”

She shakes her head.

“You’re in the hospital, dear.”

Wait! It was her father’s voice again. What did he mean she was in a hospital! Lucy forces herself to open her eyes fully, though, keeping her hand between her face and the overhead lights. “Why am I in a hospital?!”

Lucy hears the doctor's voice again, seemingly at a distance because her viewpoint was limited, speaking to someone. Fainted. Temporary amnesia. Congenital heat disease. Wait what?! “Hey what’s going on?!” she calls out then is hit by another spike of pain. Damn it! “Dad? Hello?!” But it’s like she was being ignored. Birth defect. Advanced case. Surgery. “Someone please talk to me!” Tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “Talk to me!!!” A third, and now the largest stab of pain hits her. Lucy cries out at the pain and curls in on herself. More shouting and the voice returns, hands probing something near her chest, and machines starting to blare out warning beeps.

“Please calm down Ms. Heartfilia, calm down, don’t push yourself too much or the pain will get worse.”

How could this get any worse…

That was 3 years ago, and the sands of time were running low.

Her father had done all he could, dragging her to specialist after specialist, exhausting a chunk of his fortune on doctors from one coast to the other, only to be told Lucy would need a heart transplant or she may not see her twenty-first birthday. The most they could do for her while she waited on the transplant list was implant a ventricular assist device into her body. It gave her a small measure of freedom instead of being tied to a normal transcutaneous machine, but it was still uncomfortable. Her movements were restricted, she had to be careful of catching a cold, and what ended up being the hardest part, was the breast reduction surgery they had her undergo at the same time of the VAD surgery to reduce the weight and strain it added to her heart.

For so long she’d blamed her large breasts for causing all her pains, but now that she knew they weren’t, it was sad to see them go. They were a part of her after all, no matter how much of a headache they could be. For weeks after the surgery, Lucy could barely look at herself in the mirror. She didn’t recognize herself anymore. This youthful woman with tubes sticking out of her stomach which attached to a device around her waist that helped her weakened heart muscles do their job to keep her alive. That had been the diagnosis, a congenital birth defect that weakened her heart muscles, and as she aged, the muscles would continue to deteriorate. Oh, her father was so furious when they were told she didn’t qualify for an artificial heart because death wasn’t imminent.

It hadn’t taken long after completing high school that the depression had surfaced. All of her friends were moving on to college, most to distant campuses so she had no one to talk to. Lucy would hide away in her bedroom for days at a time as the internal struggle mounted. Why continue to go through this pain and struggle… why not just end it quickly and painlessly. It was tempting. From the research she’d done on heart defects, the end wasn’t very pretty. Her only hope was a donor, but people die every day on the transplant list waiting for a heart that never came, just growing weaker and weaker….

At least the VAD had given her two decent years, but her days of being an outpatient at the hospital had come to an end. Even with the device assisting her heart, Lucy’s body was struggling to deal with the strain. The smallest exertions required fuel from her heart to power her body, so even something as minimal as the fatigue of reading a book for too long could trigger an arrythmia or worse, and the pain that may accompany it. She needed to stay in the hospital so that her heart could be constantly monitored and if there was any sudden change, they could address it quickly.

The doctors were doing their best to keep her alive in the hopes a donor would surface. But you never knew when one would become available, and her time was running short. The original prediction of not making it to twenty-one was fast approaching. Frankly, Lucy felt like it was by the luck of the draw and the odds were better at a Las Vegas casino. It was a lonely experience being cooped up in the hospital and thankfully there was one glimmer of happiness amongst the sterile white halls.

“Lucy!”

“Hi Natsu.”

He smirks, “I brought you something.” The young man was bouncing on the balls of his feet with his hands clasped behind his back.

All the volunteers that visited the hospital were kind people, but there was one that made Lucy smile the most. A young man named Natsu Dragneel. She’d told herself at the beginning of her medical odyssey that she wouldn’t let anyone get too close to her, not only for her protection but there’s. The pain of losing someone you care about was an emotion Lucy had borne at the tender age of five when her mother lost her own battle to cancer, and it was a feeling she didn’t wish upon her worst enemy. But this man sure made that promise a tough one to keep.

Natsu’s adoptive mother was a long-time surgery nurse at this hospital, who had had taught him the value of life. It was because of seeing her kindness towards people that spurred his decision to be a volunteer. Even at eighteen years of age he knew that volunteering would be difficult, and five years later, he would admit it never got any easier. Many volunteers eventually burn out, especially when dealing with the terminal patients, but Natsu pushed through, reminding himself it was those very patients that needed their support the most.

“Oh,” she quirks an eyebrow, “what is it?”

“Tada!” he whips out a single yellow rose with pinkish-red tipped petals and hands it to her. “My younger sister showed me how to dye the tips, isn’t it cool!”

Lucy takes the flower, “wow that is really beautiful! The pink even matches your hair.” She lifts it to her nose and picks up on the light rosy fragrance it exuded. “Smells nice too.” She tries to hand it back to Natsu.

“Tch, my hair’s not pink, it’s salmon, and I made it for you,” he smiles, “something to brighten your day.” Natsu then walks over to the small bathroom and fills a cup with water, brings it back and places it on the small windowsill next to her bed. “For the flower.”

“Thank you,” Lucy blushes a little and hands him back the bloom since she couldn’t reach the cup herself. “It was really kind of you to bring me that Natsu.”

“Nah,” he places the flower in the cup for her, “I’d do anything to make you smile.”

It wasn’t every day, but Natsu would come to see her as often as he could. His regular job as a construction worker wasn’t a regular 9 to 5 kind of thing. Some weeks he might work five days straight, while on slower periods like the winter and early spring months it may only be a couple of days a week depending on weather. He’d told her that working with his hands was something he enjoyed immensely, and the company was training him to be a carpenter.

Natsu sure wasn’t what she’d expected of a construction guy. Oh, his hands showed the roughened appearance of someone who worked hard for a living, but she thought they would be these rough and tumble kind of men. Not Natsu, with his goofy and sweet personality. She could only imagine how well such a line of work helped to keep the man in shape. He always wore t-shirts and jeans, but his trim features hidden behind the fabric were easily discernable.

The light of the sun brought the yellow rose to life along with a slight tremor in her heart, not of pain but of adoration. Lucy smiles sweetly at his remark, her eyes crinkling, glinting with a tinge of moisture she had no control over. She didn’t want to admit her growing affection for this man who always said the sweetest things or made the most charming gestures. Natsu was always so compassionate and supportive, while never making it seem like it was just his job as a volunteer to comfort the patients. It was easy to wish that maybe… he was doing it just for her?

Lucy ducks her head, hiding the hint of jealousy coating her cheeks and tone, “I’m sure you make such kind gestures for the other patients too.”

“Oh, no,” Natsu sits beside her and takes her hand, “just you.” He gently lifts her chin, forcing her to face him. She averts her eyes, but he stares forward, softening his glare, almost wanting to chuckle that he’s had such an effect on her. “You’re special to me.”

Of all the patients in this small hospital, Lucy Heartfilia was the one his heart grieved for the most. It wasn’t fair, at only twenty years old, for this beautiful and intelligent woman to be tied to a hospital bed, watching her life flash by in the form of ridges and valley peaks. The first time they had met was two years ago, but back then she would only come in for overnight monitoring’s or check-ups, and after her major surgery, she stayed for a few months during the recovery process. By now, they were friends, but it had taken work on his part to get her to open up to him.

“No, I’m not…” Lucy sucks the corner of her bottom lip in to stifle the tremor.

His tone deepens in a comeback, “Yes, you are.”

Her eyes finally snap to his, and when she sees the determination behind them, reality kicks in. He was telling the truth! Oh, heaven help her. It was cute to dream, but not for it to be real. She feels a sting in her chest and pushes his hands away. “Please don’t,” her voice is barely a whisper, trembling from the stinging pain in her heart and her soul. “I-I shouldn’t be….” ‘This is so wrong… Because I’m dying and he deserves someone better. I shouldn’t have said anything.’ Stupid little daggers of jealousy! She clutches her chest, willing her heart to still, and pain to subside, ‘please go away!’

“Hey, hey!” Natsu immediately switches his concern from being flirty to concerned. “Lucy please calm down, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you!”

“I-It’s okay, I-I’ll be okay.” She fights the tears back with all the strength she can muster. Lucy didn’t want to cry in front of Natsu. “Please, Natsu, I don’t want to get our hopes up l-like that…. If this… If things were different….”

“Shhh,” he cradles her face, “shhh, it’s okay Luce, I feel the same way.”

After a few moments, Lucy lets out a long exhale. “I appreciate it, I really do.” She looks up and cracks a pained smile. “You’re the only thing keeping me going, but I-I just don’t even want to think about not being there for you…”

It was Natsu’s turn to crack. “Please don’t finish that.” He looks down, holding back the urge to cry or show how upset it makes him. “I don’t want to think about that.”

“But it…”

“You don’t know that, no one knows that, and I,” his voice falters, seething with all the will of his soul placed behind it, “I will cling to hope till my dying breath.”

The sudden change in his demeanor, switches Lucy from feeling so self-absorbed in her own thoughts to realize, Natsu has had an effect on her, but she truly had an effect on him too. It hurt even more now that his behaviors weren’t just a rouse to make her happy, and it killed her to think of what he will suffer when she goes.

“I’m sorry, Natsu. I didn’t realize.” She grabs his hand, squeezing it hard. “Natsu I’m sorry. Let’s stop thinking about this then, hmm,” doing her best to keep her tone soft and comforting. “Look at me, Natsu, please, I don’t want to keep fighting with you.”

He sighs, “you’re right. That’s the last thing I wanna do with you.” It was a surprise even to himself that he’d lost his cool, and for the first time the awareness of his growing infatuation became real.

“Good,” she squeezes his hand again. “Hey, um, you know its lunch time, we could eat outside since it’s a nice day…” her voice grows tentative, “if you’ll join me.”

“Lucy Heartfilia, are you asking me out on a date?” He chuckles, ready to put all the sadness behind them. “Because if that’s the case,” the sparkle in his eyes return, “I would be honored.”

For the next couple of months, Natsu and Lucy’s friendship flourishes, as her physical body slowly deteriorates. It was hard, he couldn’t lie, to watch this happen, and if it wasn’t for the strength of his convictions or his plain stubborn attitude about it that kept him upbeat. He knew that she needed him to be her strength, and that fueled his desire to make sure she smiles every day.

Lucy didn’t know, but his mother would keep him updated on her condition. Not that he needed to know all the technical jargon, for he could see it with his own eyes. Lucy herself would tell him just enough information when she needed to, but he never pushed or pried for it, letting it always be on her terms. The cardiomyopathy was getting worse, her heart muscles barely functioning on its own at this point. She had her good days and bad days but walking around wasn’t really an option anymore aside from brief steps for a purpose. It also meant that the muscles in her legs were weakening too. Physical therapy once a week worked with Lucy on light stretches to keep them from completely atrophying, but it was all they could do for her at this point. But no matter how much weight she lost, or that her hair didn’t hold its familiar luster, to Natsu she would always be the same radiant woman he adored.

She’d resigned herself to this fate a lot better than Natsu would have thought a person could do. When he tried to picture himself in her shoes, he was sure he wouldn’t have the strength to keep going, but that was what amazed him even more about her. On her agreeable days, Natsu enjoyed getting her out of her room, even if for brief periods of time. Lunch or dinner in the cafeteria, the grounds of the hospital on a sunny day, or even stargazing when the evening air was warm. He’d bring a wheelchair, and off they’d go, talking about anything or nothing, avoiding the subject of her condition, just giving her a smidge of a normal existence for once.

Lucy opens her eyes at the knock on her door to see a familiar face pop through. “Hey Natsu,” she cracks a pained smile.

“Hey Luce, how ya doin’ today?”

She starts to sit up in the hospital bed, but when it’s clear to Natsu the woman was struggling, he quickly rushes over and assists. “Thanks,” another light smile. “I’m sorry, I’ve been a little sore today.”

“Never apologize to me,” he smiles back warmly. No matter what, he always did his best to appear upbeat for the patients despite his heart literally breaking for them. He places his hand on hers, “so, tell me gorgeous, are ya hungry? We could dinner date in the cafeteria if you’re up to it. My treat,” he winks.

“Stop calling me gorgeous,” Lucy chides the sunny young man, despite the small rosy glow of her cheeks. “I know I’m not, and that’s okay.” With the help of a psychiatrist and over a year of therapy, Lucy had finally accepted her fate and kept moving forward as best she could. If she will die someday, she will die with dignity. Stress wasn’t very good on her heart, so once she made peace with her circumstances, even her physical ailments had benefitted.

“Pfft,” Natsu pretends to be offended, “are you calling me a liar because I know I’m not blind.” His grin growing along with the deepening of red along her cheeks. “Besides, you know I won’t stop no matter how much you complain about it.”

Lucy laughs and her eyes twinkle, “I know, so we’ll keep agreeing to disagree.”

It was in these moments, and why he did what he did, just to see this woman’s eyes light up, that sent his own heart into palpitations. Deep down Natsu knew that the chances of Lucy making it out of this hospital were slim to none, but you’d never know it when he spoke to her. He stifles the urge to sigh. Oh, how he wished the circumstances were different. In a perfect world, Natsu would love nothing more than to walk this woman down the aisle.

He circles the topic back around, “so… dinner, on me?” he teases lightly with a wink. “We can take a trip through pediatrics where there are a few recent arrivals.”

Her gaze lowers as she hides the seventh heaven emotions the young man stirs in her. “I’d like that.”

Natsu squeezes her hand, “I’ll be right back, lemme grab your carriage milady.”

As Lucy waited the few minutes for Natsu to grab a wheelchair, she closes her eyes and does a breathing technique to calm her heart. She hadn’t wanted to show the slight tinges of pain she was getting as they spoke, because she knew it would have worried him. They’d been steadily increasing in frequency lately, and she fought to keep him from discovering that. But she couldn’t help it. Despite her condition, Lucy was still a young woman with an intact mind, she still had desires like any other, and when a handsome young man close to her age flirted with her, of course she would react to it! She did her best not to let these thoughts sink in too deeply and told herself he was merely doing it to make her feel better. It was a lie, but it was the best way to shield herself.

“Ready?” Natsu extends his hand to help Lucy to her feet.

She nods and takes hold, gripping on while he maneuvers her around and onto the chair. It weakened Lucy to where her muscles were slowly losing their strength because her heart was struggling to keep her body oxygenated and functioning properly. With support she could stand for brief periods, but only with support. At least with Natsu, she could put her faith in his hold that he’d never let her fall.

After adjusting the foot plates and making sure Lucy was comfortable, Natsu takes off towards the cafeteria two floors down. He’d already alerted dining when he’d gone out for the chair they were coming down, to prepare a meal within Lucy’s dietary needs. It wasn’t a terribly restrictive diet, but there were some limits, such as no stimulants like caffeine, or anything with a high fat content.

Natsu loved these little dates as he called them. On warm sunny days it may include a stroll outside for some fresh air, or if it was cold and rainy, merely sharing a cup of light hot chocolate in the visitor's lounge in front of the massive floor to ceiling windows. But if Lucy wasn’t feeling well, he was content to sit by her side in her room, talking, telling stories, or doing anything just to cheer her up. Sometimes he would fantasize during these events as if they were simply at home and relaxing like a normal couple.

“Oh yay, beef barley,” Lucy stirs and lifts a spoonful up before letting it flow back into the bowl. “My fave.” She knew why they gave it to her, but that didn’t make it anymore appetizing. Barley was supposedly good for heart health, and the protein it contained was useful for her body. She crunches up the soda crackers the meal came with and drops them into the soup, letting the pieces soak in.

“I don’t mind it,” Natsu shovels a spoonful into his mouth. He always made it a point to eat the same thing they gave Lucy, so she felt more normal about it. “But if you really don’t want it, I could ask them to make you a sandwich instead.”

“No, no,” she waves her hand, her voice oozing with a sense of longing mixed with frustration, “it’s okay, I’m fine with it. I just would kill to eat a fatty, tasty, slathered in sauce cheeseburger with a side of waffle fries or something you know.”

Natsu snorts a laugh and almost chokes on his food as a mental picture of Lucy chomping down on a burger, with sauce dripping down her chin both amuses and arouses him. “I-I can imagine,” he bangs his chest a couple times to dislodge some liquid that made it down the wrong pipe. “Throw some sriracha sauce on that vision and you just named one of my favorite foods.” Could this woman become any more of his dream girl?!

She giggles, “So, um…” Lucy hesitates for a second. She didn’t want to sound desperate or anything, but loneliness was the quickest way to send her back into a depression and she cherished the time the man spent with her. “How much time are you spending with me today?”

“As long as you’d like,” he winks. “I always do my rounds first and come to you last so I can stay as long as I want to.”

Ugh! The flirty thing again! Lucy wills her body to behave. “Wow, that makes me pretty special, huh?”

“Extremely,” he leans in, letting his gaze grow half-lidded, and his tone mellowing into a soothing cadence. “I’m gonna steal your heart one day Luce, that’s a promise.”

“What?! Pfft,” damn, she can feel the heat rising in her cheeks, “there’s no point in stealing a broken heart sir…” Despite the desire to feel aroused over his comment, it also brought a sense of sadness to her she fought down the urge to let tears rise to the surface. ‘He’s just teasing… he’s just being sweet, trying to make me feel normal… It’s not real Lucy, It’s not real!’ But oh, how she wished it was! Natsu was the perfect man that any woman would kill for. Sweet, strong, handsome, silly, she could go on and on with the list. He was the one ray of sunshine in her dreary world now that she truly was all alone in it. The stress of caring for her had driven her father into his own massive heart attack last year. She had no one, except Natsu.

“I mean it Luce,” he reaches out and takes her hand, letting his thumb sweep over the skin. “Broken or not, I want to steal it and have the person it’s attached to a—ll to myself.”

“Please don’t,” Lucy pulls her hand back. She could feel the tears pooling and if she didn’t stop it now, they’d soon fall. “You know I appreciate it, really I do Natsu.” Lucy looks back up at him and cracks a pained smile. “But you deserve someone who’s not broken.”

The absolute pain measured in Lucy’s eyes, and the sorrow in her voice was like a dagger straight through Natsu’s soul. He could understand her desire of not wanting to believe in miracles or to shield herself from further pain, but that only killed him more. She deserved so much more out of life. Ugh, if only he had a direct line to destiny so he could kick its ass and tell it to leave Lucy in peace! He didn’t want to upset her anymore. “Okay, I’ll stop pushing too hard. But I promise you Luce, one day you will walk out of this hospital a healthy woman, and you can steal my heart instead.”

She sighs, “You can’t promise something like that.”

“I have faith,” Natsu gives her his wide, ear-to-ear grin and a wink. “You’ll see.”

How could she stay upset after seeing that smile of his? That damn ear-to-ear grin that lit up his eyes. The eternal optimist, Natsu Dragneel trying so hard to keep her spirits up. He and that smile may very well be the one thing keeping her going at this point. “Okay, okay,” Lucy chuckles, “I give up, yes it's possible.”

“Woo Hoo!” He pumps his fist in the air in an exaggerated victory, “that’s the spirit! Now eat, so we can go check out the babies!”

Lucy laughs again and nods with a smile, “okay.”

It was harder than she let on to him because she knew how much he enjoyed checking out all the new arrivals, but seeing those babies coming into this world while she would be leaving it shortly was painful. All those hopeful, bright little lives…. They were a bittersweet reminder that a hospital holds two balances; the power to bring life into this world or take it away by not being able to heal a person. She didn’t blame the doctors, for they were doing their best, because sometimes the sands of time runs its course and there is just nothing more they can do. It was simply a part of life, to be born and die, never knowing when the grim reaper would come calling.

“Look, look! I was told three were born yesterday.” Natsu points excitedly as he parks her chair in front of the viewing window of the nursery. He plasters his face against the clear glass. “Two girls and one boy. Awww, one already has some hair!” Turning back to Lucy, “can you see okay, would you like me to help you stand up?”

“Thank you for the offer, but I can see just fine,” Lucy throws on a smile for effect. “They are quite adorable, aren’t they?”

“Are you sure? You know the doctors want you to stand sometimes so that your legs don’t atrophy as quickly. I will gladly bear the weight.”

“Are you saying I’m heavy?!” She was just teasing, but it was the perfect setup to do so.

“What?!” he waves his arms, “n-no way! You’re not heavy, I meant I’m stronger so I can hold you up…”

“So, I’m weak?”

“Wait, what, no!”

Lucy giggles at how much the man was stepping all over his tongue. “I’m just teasing you, Natsu. I know I should, but I’m just a little tired today.” That was partially true.

The man pouts, “so mean Luce,” he whines and throws on the saddest puppy dog expression he can muster, even a sniffle for effect. “But it was an excuse to hold you in my arms.”

Oh, how quickly the tides can turn as his bold little statement sets her face ablaze. He re—ally needed to stop with the flirting, or she was about to have an actual heart attack! “All right,” Lucy groans, “just for a few minutes.” It wasn’t the first time she’s allowed him to help her stand and maintain her balance, but before his little retort, she’d never thought twice about it.

Natsu locks the chair and adjusts the foot plates out of the way so that Lucy can put her feet on the ground. “Just take all the time you need,” his voice grows soft and soothing, “don’t rush.”

She tests her leg strength by pushing with the balls of her feet against the floor, rocking them and applying pressure to warm up the muscles. Brief movements, like getting from the bed to the wheelchair were one thing, standing for a few minutes or walking a few feet were another. It was frustrating and embarrassing, so she avoided it as much as possible, like when going to the bathroom. Lucy didn’t mind when the nurses assisted her with that compromising predicament, but this was embarrassing in a different way.

Once she feels her legs are ready, she holds out her hand which Natsu quickly takes hold of and braces her other on the arm of the chair to push herself up. When she gets to a standing position, Natsu moves around her body, placing an arm around her waist as he gently guides her the two feet to the window. He stays on constant alert, monitoring any change so if her legs decide to buckle, he can catch her. As soon as she reaches the window, Lucy places her hands on the slight ledge of the sill. Natsu then switches his position to stand directly behind her, wrapping both arms around her upper chest to hold her close, but above the tubes in her lower abdomen.

Could he feel how much her body was heating up from the intimate contact? Lucy fought her own emotions to keep from escalating and stressing her heart out, for she was keenly aware of how they would look to anyone passing by. Dear heavens, it was hard to do with his chest pressed up against her back…. She wished they could stay like that forever. ‘Breathe… just breathe, Lucy…. Look at the babies, just focus on the babies…’ That only made it worse.

The babies…. Just a day old. The little angels were like moldable clay. They’ll grow… they’ll change… Will they become teachers or astronauts some day? Oh, look at the one, smiling in his sleep, how precious. Someday, will they make their dreams come true? What will they be like? Good little kids or naughty, friendly, the life of the party or a shy introvert? Like many young girls who dreamt of becoming a mother someday, Lucy had envisioned having a family of her own with the love of her life and the white picket fence. A little girls fantasy. She closes her eyes, praying that Natsu wasn’t paying attention to her. The tears pool behind her eyelids and she stills the desire to sniffle. That fantasy was now dashed like a shipwreck against the shoreline, never to sail the seven seas again. Natsu would have made the perfect husband and father for such a fairytale, and he will one day, just not in her storybook ending.

She’d been so focused on fighting back her emotions, that Lucy hadn’t noticed Natsu’s head was now resting against her shoulder or how his face was curled against the nape.

“It’s okay to cry sometimes Luce.”

His whispered voice, so close to her ear, breaks the dam. Lucy squeezes her eyes tighter and fingertips curl, tensing against the windowsill. Shit, he knew all along. Her knees tremble as the tears flow freely, but she feels his hold tighten around her to keep her from falling. It had been some time since she’d allowed herself to release the pain in this way.

Natsu hadn’t been certain of it until now, but in the last several times they’d come to the pediatric ward, he’d sensed a change in Lucy’s energy. She always wore a smile with a hidden agenda and now he’s confirmed his suspicions. Well, it was his mother really that pointed it out one day when he’d mentioned it to her. The woman was great at understanding human emotions and after years of caring for patients, she’s learned to follow her intuition.

“Lucy was a young woman who may not live to be a mother or have a family of her own, of course it might upset her to see the infants.” His first inclination was to stop bringing the woman to this ward, but his mother gave him a second option. “Help her grieve.” Those three words coming out of his mother’s mouth stunned him briefly. What did she mean to help her grieve?!! “If Lucy has no one to turn to, how can she process what is happening to her. Show her it’s okay to be upset, help her let out the pain before it consumes her.”

“I will hold you for as long as I need to Luce, just let the pain go.”

But it was killing him to do this! Natsu had told his mother that he didn’t think he was strong enough. The woman simply smiled, patted his cheek and said, “I believe in you son. If you truly care, then you’ll have the strength to move mountains for her.” Damn his mother and her intuition, though Natsu realized only a fool couldn’t see how much he was falling for Lucy. He’d sell his soul to a demon to get her a new heart.

Strangely, Lucy’s body wasn’t reacting like she thought it would. Stress usually caused her blood pressure to rise and strain her heart muscles, but that wasn’t happening. She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing like a broken spigot, and maybe that was the best thing, like a release of the pressure that had built up unbeknownst to her. Her hands move from the windowsill to Natsu’s arms, clutching to and resting her head on them. Lucy couldn’t look up, not yet, but she needed to let him know she heard his words, and they meant the world to her.

She would have made an amazing mother, Natsu was sure of it, and it would be a lie to say he’s never thought of or imagined them staring through this viewing window at their own little boy or girl one day. Would the child have Lucy’s beautiful golden waves or chocolate brown eyes? Or maybe take Natsu’s salmon pink hair and onyx eyes. No matter what, the child would be perfect and loved. A child that as the day ticked down on the transplant list was losing hope of ever being born. Crap! Natsu squeezes his eyes closed tight. He couldn’t let her see him struggling with this, but damn if those images didn’t just cut him deep.

Neither of them knew how long they were standing there or even if any of the other hospital staff had noticed. They were in their own little world while time passed them by. It was Lucy who finally let out a small exhale as a last release of all that had struck her today, and with that tension gone, the tears turned into exhaustion. Ever cry so hard and for so long that your body became lethargic? Lucy yawns wide and deep, her eyes growing heavy and clouded, a little lightheaded, ready to go to sleep.

Natsu kisses the crown of her head and without a word, maneuvers her so she can sit back down in her wheelchair. He sets the foot panels in place and helps her feet onto them, then pushes her back to her room. There is a companionable silence, as if all their wordless exchanges had communicated volumes that needed no explanation. Once back in her own room, Natsu helps her onto the bed and set the wheelchair aside.

After helping to re-attach her heart monitors, Natsu checks, “is there anything else I can get you before I go?” She shakes her head. “In that case…”

Lucy motions for him to lean in closer and once he’s close enough, she hesitates briefly then places a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for everything Natsu.”

His eyes widen, shocked by what she’d just done. “Luce?”

“I just felt like doing it,” she blushes. “Tonight… I don’t know, I just feel so much better and it’s all because of you.” Lucy closes her eyes as a yawn cuts through. They were so tired…

“You are very welcome,” Natsu smiles. He moves to leave, but Lucy grabs his hand and squeezes. When he turns back to look, her eyes are still closed, and there is a slight smile on her face which brings a swelling of his pride. He leans down and kisses the back of her hand. “Rest now, and I will see you again tomorrow.”

Mister Sandman beckoned to Lucy of mystical creatures bathed in glittering stars, calling upon father time to bring peace to a weary soul. She didn’t know why, but though the pull was strong, she fought his dreamy reverie. Today had been the most emotionally charged day in a long time. All the tears Lucy had shed brought a new peace to her spirit, something in this entire experience not even a trained therapist could have given her. The amount of love that Natsu provided, whether platonic or wishful yearnings, calmed her, and pushed away the emptiness she had felt for so long…. So long stuck in this pain. She wanted to relive this day forever, safe in Natsu’s arms, drowning in the pool of his obsidian hues. ‘… to steal his heart…’ Lucy knew she already had, just as he had stolen hers in a way. A sense of warmth floods through her body, shielding her to the cool air-conditioned room. Lucy’s smile widens as her mind slips into the abyss of dreams, of a pink-haired prince who’d finally set her soul free.

“Natsu wake up,” the voice repeats as the person attached to it shakes his sleeping form. “Natsu wake up.”

“Huh?” His clouded mind hears the voice of his mother. “What is it?” He turns his head, his eyes temporarily pin-pointed from the harsh lamp light next to his bed. “Mom, what are you doing in my room?” Natsu pushes himself to a sitting position as his mother takes a seat next to him. With his vision focusing better, he finally notices the moisture clouding his mother’s eyes. “Mom, what is it?!”

She takes his hand, squeezing it tightly with her head slightly lowered in pain. “I-I’m sorry, son, but the hospital just called me…. Your friend, s-she had a massive heart attack.”

By the time his mother had finished the sentence, Natsu had stopped listening to anything she was saying. He knew, the moment she’d said I’m sorry… to wake him up in the middle of the night, it had to be…. All the blood drains from his face and his shoulders slump. He felt dizzy, weak, like all of his strength were stripped away, leaving him an empty shell. He turns his head slowly, the tears already flowing down his cheeks in an endless trickle to meet the woman’s sullen gaze. This wasn’t happening! Not yet! Lucy was fine today! Fine!! He wanted to scream! But his throat was closed up, choking back the sobs that wanted to break free.

“Oh honey,” the woman wraps her arms around her son and pulls him tightly against her chest. “I’m so sorry,” her own tears flowing freely and hitting his face. “Don’t give up hope, they were able to save her, but she’s been placed in a medically induced coma.”

It couldn’t be true! Why weren’t his cries coming out?! Natsu’s voice refused to make a sound and all he could do was weep. It hurt so much! His fists clench at his stiffened sides. This wasn’t fair!

“Let it out son, don’t hold it in,” she coos, doing her best to soothe the pain. “They believe she didn’t suffer because it happened while she was asleep, that should give you a bit of comfort.”

No, it doesn’t! She was still in a coma! He’d almost lost her! And, “I-I never g-got to s-say good... good…” he couldn’t finish it. What if she never woke up again? Natsu’s heart ached at the thought he may never again hear her beautiful laughter or that silly snort she would sometimes make when he teased her. This world was too cruel to do this to a woman who should be in college, starting the next stage of her life. A fit of sobs racks his body, ‘I never got to tell her I love her…’

“Would you like me to drive you there, son?”

“Yes, please mom, i-if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.”

Natsu paused in front of the closed door to Lucy’s new room, unsuccessfully preparing himself for what he knew he would find behind it. On the way to the hospital, his mother had filled in a few more details that tore the man up and brought a wave of guilt flooding over him. Had he caused the heart attack?

The heart monitor alarms had gone off only 30 minutes after he had left her for the evening, and the doctors wasted no time in implementing emergency resuscitative efforts. They deemed it a miracle, but after 10 minutes of herculean efforts they were able to get her heart restarted. Lucy was then moved to the ICU unit and placed on other machines such as a feeding tube and ventilator to keep her alive.

Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed her to see the infants after all. Maybe the crying had stressed her out and neither of them had known it. She seemed perfectly fine when he’d left! Happy, in fact, happier than he’d seen in a long time. Natsu’s fingers absentmindedly trail over the area she had kissed. Lucy was at peace when he’d left. His mom told him her sudden fatigue may have been a sign. Or maybe he clenches his jaw, that kiss was her way of saying goodbye, like she knew something might happen once she’d closed her eyes. The way she’d grabbed his hand when he tried to leave…. “Fuck!” he grits outs as the tears pool in his bloodshot eyes again. “I shouldn’t have left her…”

He pushes the door open and his knees buckle instantly at the sight. Tubes… all the tubes, and monitors, the beeping and lights, bright flashing lights of the stat graphs, subcutaneous fluids hooked to her arms, the drips… slow drips of liquid and medicine flowing into Lucy’s body. He wasn’t ready for it. Her beautiful face partially hidden by the feeding tube running into her mouth and the breathing tubes entering her nostrils. If it wasn’t for his mother standing at his side, Natsu would have collapsed to the floor when his legs lose all their strength and crumple. The woman guides him to a chair placed beside the bed.

“Oh god, Lucy!” The tears pour out and sobs take control of his body. He throws his upper body over hers, clutching desperately to the blanket covering her, and burying his face into its folds. Natsu felt a part of his soul die right then and there. “You don’t deserve this,” his muffled words stolen by the fabric. Why couldn’t they find her a heart?!

“Son,” Natsu feels his mother’s hand resting on his shoulder, but he doesn’t respond. “Son, there’s no telling how long Lucy will stay in this state, so it’s best you say your goodbyes now. They say that people can hear you even if they are in a coma.”

But all he can do is shake his head fervently, denying it to the world and himself that Lucy wouldn’t come out of this. He had hope, damn it! Natsu refused to say goodbye because that meant he’d given up hope Lucy would recover somehow.

The woman seemed to understand her son’s frustration and didn’t push. “Then, just talk to her son, let her know you’re here.”

“Mom, could you… I wanna be alone, please?”

“I’ll come back in an hour to take you home.”

Natsu just nods in response. He hears the door open and close, the click of the lock like the final latch being set on a coffin, sealing them to their fate. He’d known the dangers of giving his heart to Lucy and yet despite what was happening, still had no regrets. She deserved the peace of knowing someone loved her, and if this really was the last moments, Natsu could have that tiny measure of satisfaction knowing he was the one who had provided it to her.

“But you’re not gonna die yet, Luce. You can’t, do you hear me, you can’t! It’s not your time yet, so you need to fight for me please…” Oh, how his heart was shattering into a million pieces as if he was the one with the problem. It fucking hurt! Emotional daggers stabbing him in the chest repeatedly. “You’re stronger than this, Lucy! I know it, you’re gonna wake up from this!”

By the time his mother returns an hour later, the sheer exhaustion had consumed Natsu. She finds him passed out, and it takes a bit of begrudging effort to get him to leave Lucy’s bedside. He was so afraid to leave again in case she passed away, because he didn’t want her to die alone. It was his mother that coaxed him into believing that she wasn’t alone as long as he kept her in his heart.

Day after day, week after week, became a never-ending cycle of zombiesque activity. Natsu’s body was there, trudging through routine, but his mind was broken, battling between keeping hope alive and giving up. He went to work, did his job, then headed to the hospital. It got to where the staff had placed a spare bed in the room, and he practically lived in the ICU with Lucy. He was lucky that his mother was a long-time nurse and he a volunteer with an impeccable standing that the hospital allowed him to bend the visitor hour rules. They knew the woman was alone in this world, so maybe they also felt a sense of duty to become that family for her, because nobody deserved to die alone.

He grew obsessed with anything to do with her condition and used the lonely hours to scour the internet for information. Sure, much of the stories about coma patients being able to hear weren’t really solid or verifiable, but any glimmer of possibilities was worth the effort. It couldn’t hurt to try. Whether it was telling her about his day or what was happening in their town, Natsu would keep talking. He bought a kindle and read stories he thought she would like, fantasies of princes saving princesses filled with mythical creatures. He remembered her saying she used to write such stories and wished he had been able to read them.

When he was too tired to read, or his throat was too sore to continue, Natsu wrote her letters. The staff and his family were getting worried about Natsu. So, the hospital’s mental health service counselor had come in one day and spoke to him on the off chance that they could get through to him. While he refused to listen to most of the advice, he found the writing to be helpful. Maybe when Lucy awakens, she could read them. But for now, it was one way he could pour out some of his thoughts in silence.

He was always tired and exhausted, pushing himself through this day-to-day routine, sometimes forgetting to eat. Concerned staff would often pop their heads in to check on him to make sure he had or scolded him when the hours grew late and they knew he needed to work the next day. His bloodshot eyes held dark bags under them, and his mother swore he was losing weight. But he would always push them off saying he was fine.

“No, you are not son. As a mother I am supremely proud to know I raised a son who cares this much, but I don’t want to lose you too.”

“And you’re not, I’m perfectly healthy.”

“You know as well as I stress is harmful to the body.”

Natsu sighs and runs a hand over his face, “mom, I’m fine, I even cut back on work hours to make you happy.”

“And I appreciate the gesture, but you’re still working, just here!”

“Mom, I’m fine! Please, just leave me be, I-I don’t want to fight. I just want… I’m not leaving her. End of discussion.”

His mother sighs, knowing that her stubborn boy would not listen. “Just please, Natsu, eat more, get more sleep, do it for me.”

“Okay, okay, I will.”

“I love you, son.”

“I love you too, mom.”

She kisses his forehead and turns to leave, taking one last look at her boy, and to Lucy. Grandeeney Dragneel pauses with a bittersweet smile as Natsu resumed reading quietly from his Kindle. Somehow, she knew that young girl loved her son back, and it broke her heart to know they were like those star-crossed lovers from a long-lost folktale, never destined to truly be together. She liked Lucy. The girl was smart and sweet, very articulate whenever she visited during her rounds, and her strength through this all was remarkable. Even after being dealt such a cruel hand by fate, she never grew bitter or resentful. Her son couldn’t have fallen for a better girl. Grandeeney slips away quietly before the moisture building in her eyes could be seen by Natsu, bracing against the closed door, and praying for a miracle.

Is this that tunnel people talk about? Lucy wonders as all she could see through her eyelids is the brightest light that seemed just too brilliant to be normal. Her eyes hurt a little from it, but if this was heaven, why is there still pain? She forces her lids open and tries to shield them with her hand that… doesn’t seem to move, huh? But it wasn’t just her arm, her entire body felt heavy. The images filtering in through her vision were blurry, slowly gaining focus as her pupils adjust to the light to see, wait, ceiling tiles? Why does heaven look so much like a hospital?

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

Lucy looks over and sees a doctor standing beside her. “Where am I?” Or more like why am I here?

“Do you remember the heart attack?” She shakes her head. “You’ve been in a coma for two months after you suffered a massive heart attack. But luckily, a local donor came through...” He goes on to explain about the surgery telling her that the transplant surgery went well, her body was accepting the new heart, and while she’ll still be going through three to six months or rehabilitation and monitoring, she was on track to make a full recovery.

“Oh-okay, thank you so much, doctor.” It was a miracle to be alive again with a new heart. But something felt wrong, missing?

“I’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you again Ms. Heartfilia, but if anything feels off in the meantime, be sure to ring the nurses.” He moves to leave, but she stops him.

“Doctor, the donor, can you tell me about them, please?”

The man hesitates for a moment. “Well Ms. Heartfilia, privacy laws don’t allow me to….”

“You don’t have to tell me their name or anything. Please, just a little information. I’d like to know who saved my life.”

The man sighs and takes the seat next to the bed, clearly torn with what he was about to say. “He was a young volunteer at the hospital who tragically fell asleep at the wheel and passed away from a car accident…”

The doctor's voice droned on for another minute as he tried to reassure her that the man didn’t suffer. It was quick and painless from a one-car crash. As if that was supposed to make her feel any better. Lucy didn’t need to be told the name as tears poured down her cheeks, because she knew. She just knew. That was what was missing, for she knew that if she’d had received the new heart, Natsu would have been the one by her side when she’d woken up… unless he could be there. With all the wires attached to her arm, she could barely move them without the sting of the I.V. lines, but she didn’t care. Lucy’s hands cover her lowered face as the tears continue to stream.

“I’m very sorry, Ms. Heartfilia. Would you like me to have someone from mental health support to come see you?”

Lucy shakes her head. She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t even think.

“Mrs. Dragneel would also like to speak to you when you’re up to it.”

More tears and sobs choke out. Oh god that was Natsu’s mom, how could she face Natsu’s mother!

Seeing the woman’s distress, the man nods and squeezes her shoulder, “Again, I’m truly sorry Ms. Heartfilia. We all miss him very much. Please try to get some rest,” and leaves the woman to grieve in her own way.

Her head was spinning. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this! Why was destiny such a malicious bastard to take away the one person she had and leave her in this world all alone? Lucy clasps a hand over her chest, recalling the last conversation, that last night with Natsu. She squeezes her eyes to the pain of the memories… He’d made her so happy… so very happy, and yes, she remembered thinking for the first time since her diagnosis; she didn’t feel alone anymore. Fuck if she didn’t want to just keel over again, but that would mar the beautiful gift that she’s received. Natsu believed with every fiber of his being that she would walk out of here one day and she will live on for him, that’s a promise. “Our heart,” Lucy breathes out… But how ironic that he was right all along. She really did steal his heart in the cruelest of ways…

#nalu #nalu angst #nalu au #natsu dragneel #Lucy heartfilia #fairytail #nalu fan fic #nalu fan fiction #bittersweet ending #story request #uzumaki2810 #natsu x lucy #au modern setting #hospital setting

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axelxmartinez · 4 years ago

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(Hi I love to plot, hit me up and let’s chat!)

Introduction @redridgeimp

FULL NAME: Axel Jose Diego Martinez

NICKNAMES(S): Axe, Ax, Diablo

AGE: 33

DATE OF BIRTH: October 30th, 1986

PLACE OF BIRTH: Red Ridge, Nevada

CURRENT LOCATION: Red Ridge, Nevada.

ETHNICITY: Latino. Mexican primarily and his mother was partially Caucasian (European descent), as well as Mexican and Dominican.

GENDER: Cis male.

PRONOUNS: He/him/his.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual.

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: quoiromantic

RELIGION: Atheist.

OCCUPATION: Owner of Roberto's and Bone breaker for Valencia.

EDUCATION LEVEL: he dropped out of high school in the beginning of 11th grade.

EXTRACURRICULAR: Boxing, lifting weights, playing video games, occasionally reading

LIVING ARRANGEMENTS: Owns his parents house, a medium sized single family home with 4 bedrooms, an unfinished basement, nothing to brag about on the south side of redridge

SPEAKING VOICE AND ACCENT: Deep, smooth voice with a hint of a Spanish accent, especially when he's angry. Normally keeps a steady tone, unless he’s really upset about something.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE, ETC.

FACECLAIM: Manny Montana

HAIR COLOR AND STYLE: black, shaved short

COMPLEXION: Brown on the lighter side with neutral undertones

EYE COLOR: Brown.

EYESIGHT: 20/30 the last time he checked, he probably could use corrective lenses for driving or reading something but he doesn’t bother with it.

HEIGHT: 6’1” or 185cm

WEIGHT: 169lbs or 77kg

BODY AND BUILD: Muscular, lean, well-defined muscles.

TATTOOS: tons, he gets them at random and the only theme to them is that they are black and white. The obvious ones most people see are the skull on his throat and the ones on his fingers and hands. (See his pinterest linked at the bottom for more ideas in this area)

PIERCINGS: none, he fights too much to have piercings.

CLOTHING STYLE: jeans, hoodies, t-shirts, flannels, button down shirts, primarily black for everything.

DISTINGUISHING CHARACTERISTICS: tattoos all over his body, small linear scar on his eyebrow where no hair grows, various scars all over his body - some covered with tattoos and some not. Also wears necklaces and rings, has a few random bracelets made by his nieces and nephews.

HEALTH.

MENTAL DISORDER(S): ADD is all he’s been diagnosed with, though he likely has an anxiety disorder as well.

PHYSICAL DISORDER(S): none

ALLERGIES: the pollen gets to him in the spring but he just ignores it

SLEEPING HABITS: insomniac, he sleeps in small shifts between work and whatever he’s doing during the day.

EATING HABITS: Axel has a high metabolism so he eats a lot and often, he tends to pick things up while he’s moving around town and keeps protein bars and snacks in his car for in between meals

SOCIABILITY: extroverted introvert, he tends to be around people but doesn’t go out of his way to strike up conversation unless he feels it necessary, knows the person already, or is spoken to first.

BODY TEMPERATURE: neutral.

ADDICTIONS: Nicotine, Caffeine, some would argue he drinks a little too much but he doesn’t think so.

DRUG USE: Depends on the drug. He smokes marijuana frequently, but anything else is occasionally and he refuses to touch needles or anything made purely from chemicals (i.e. Meth).

ALCOHOL USE: Frequently, usually has a drink or two everyday. Sometimes more, sometimes less. He prefers brandy and tequila but also enjoys beer and will always accept a free drink regardless of what it is.

PERSONALITY.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Hardworking, Efficient, Honest, Strong, Confident, Curious

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Callous, Insensitive, Secretive, Possessive, Withdrawn, Stubborn

LIKES: Fighting, good food, drinking, video games, smoking, sex, most things physical, some reading, fire

DISLIKES: Schools, authority (mainly police), drama, airplanes, inactivity

FEARS: His only fear that he could ever pinpoint was his father.

HABITS: Plays with his fingers, touches his face, staring without talking, smoking, rain

ASTROLOGY: Scorpio Sun, Sagittarius Rising, Libra Moon

PERSONALITY TYPE: INTJ

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Slytherin.

ELEMENT: Fire

WEATHER: Overcast or Sunny

COLOR: Black

MUSIC: Rock, Metal, 90’s hip hop

MOVIE: Documentaries or Action movies

SPORT: Baseball and Soccer

BEVERAGE: Brandy or Tequila

FOOD: Waffles

ANIMAL: Snake

SEASON: Summer

FAMILY, RELATIONSHIPS, ETC.

MOTHER: Antonia Martinez (Rodriguez)

FATHER: Roberto Martinez, deceased

SIGNIFICANT OTHER: none

SIBLING(S): 5 younger siblings, names and ages vague for future wc

CHILDREN: TBD

PET(S): Ball Python named Slinky

PROMPT.

“ROUTINE”: violence tw, death tw

Ever since he was a teenager, Axel has worked at Roberto’s. At his father’s insistence to teach him some responsibility, as the owner, it was common for him to hire his children and other relatives because he didn’t trust anyone. When Roberto, his father, went to prison and was simultaneously killed while there, his business was given to his eldest son. Axel wasn’t very torn up about losing his father, it made his life significantly easier and allowed him to take over the role as head of the Martinez family. Something he’d been well prepared for and while he wasn’t the nicest guy, he wasn’t the psychopath Roberto was. At least, he didn’t think he was.

With his father gone, his days started with the sun (if he even got to bed the night before). He opened the convenient store, put the money in the till for the starting shift and made sure everything was turned on and stocked from the night before. Once the first shift comes in, he usually heads to the back to double check that everything is locked up and set up for the next shift. After that is usually when he gets word of anything Valencia needs him to do that day. Even though he’s not a soldier anymore, he likes to keep busy so he picks up slack where he can. If not, he starts checking in on his younger siblings and making sure they are doing what they’re supposed to be doing and staying out of trouble. If he doesn’t have anything pressing to get done, he heads to the gym to do his usual workout and possibly some sparring to keep his endurance at peak along with his fighting technique. Afterwards, he hits up Ridge Roasters if he’s going to the North side of town and gets his coffee with a random pastry to go. Otherwise, he heads to Blue Hill Diner for a proper breakfast and chats with the staff there or scrolls through his phone. He heads back to the convenient store if they need him, otherwise he heads home for a nap or just to relax. Most days he can trust his shift supervisors or the manager to finish up the rest of the day at Roberto’s. Only on occasion does he have to cover a shift or go in to change the cash register for a shift.

By five or six in the evening, Axel crosses the threshold of St. Peters and takes a spot at the bar. If he feels like dinner, he gets something to eat. Otherwise he has a few drinks to pass the time and watches the environment. If he’s lucky, he catches something that isn’t supposed to be happening in Redridge without approval and brings it to a higher up. Otherwise, he wastes some time before Rogue’s opens and he can go watch the fights for the night. By the time it’s his turn to get in the ring, he’s usually itching to start fighting. He’s not one to get excited about much, but once he gets sight of his ‘opponent’ a wide shark-like smile will spread across his face. Axel loves the work he gets to do with Valencia and if he could do more he would. Fighting and getting rid of people was something he specialized in, he was damn good at it, too. If he was lucky, he brought someone home with him at the end of the night. If not, he has another drink and heads back to his house to watch something on the television or, if he’s even luckier, gets a few hours of sleep before he has to wake up and repeat it all the next day.

“REMINISCENCE”: violence tw, alcohol tw, blood tw, death tw

“Not everyone gets to just blurt out how the feel about whoever or whatever on a fuckin’ whim, dude.” Axel spoke into his glass, the third brandy making his voice hoarse. Stuck in the reverie that his best friend had pulled from him. That afternoon they’d gotten the news that his father was found dead in the showers that morning. He was out celebrating. That man had never done anything for anyone, nothing good at least and definitely not any of his kids. Axel looked at the brown liquid in his glass and swirled it around. “Remember back in high school, that kid Jake who used to hang around sometimes?” He asked, eyes still on the glass. “We used to mess around or whatever. I was young and stupid.” He shook his head, knowing at twenty-five he wasn’t exactly old but he was a lot older than he was then. “Anyways, it had been a few months and I started talkin’ a big game like I was the boss of my house. My papi didn’t give a shit what I did or who I was with and all that. We stopped at Roberto’s after school to get some snacks or whatever. You know, same shit different day.” Axel paused and let out a slow sigh. The alcohol was getting to his head and loosening his tongue to reveal shit he’d never talked about with anyone. Most people knew his father was a prick that was quick to correct his children with his hands rather than his words, but Axel didn’t ever make it seem like it bothered him. He sure as hell didn’t let on that he harbored a great fear of the man. “We were at the counter paying, right in front of my dad and Jake tried to lean in for a kiss or somethin’ to say thank you or some shit. I just freaked out, I didn’t know what to do because that shit wasn’t goin’ to fly with Roberto Martinez. Not one of his kids. So, I pushed him away and beat his ass bloody right there for all the world to see.” He didn’t want his dad to do it and if he thought for a second that Axel was into guys he would probably shoot him on the spot. Definitely would have gotten rid of him in one way or the other. Even if he still liked girls, too. “My brother had to pull me off of him. I was so fuckin’ scared man, I just kept hittin’ him. He had to go to the hospital and his parents didn’t even press charges, they straight pulled him out of school. I never even saw him again.” Axel finished off his glass and exhaled the burn it left in his throat and chest. “Out of all the people I’ve beat in my lifetime, all the shit I’ve done, man. That’s the only one I regret. But you know the sad part?” He let out a bitter laugh. “If I could go back and do it over, I’d still beat his ass. What the fuck does that say about me?” Axel shut up after that, didn’t even really pay attention to what his friend had to say about any of it. He drowned himself in a bottle and had no idea how he got home at the end of the night.

BACKGROUND. ( abuse tw, death tw, violence tw)

Born and raised in Redridge, oldest of six children. Some of his siblings still live in Redridge, others have left and spread around the country. He has a large extended family. They live all over the country, Mexico, and South America.

His father was a very strict man and ran his household with an iron fist. He believed his children should be seen and not heard. If one of them were to step out of line, show defiance, or generally make him angry in any way, he normally responded by correcting them physically instead of with words. He owned Roberto’s, which he started before Axel was born. Roberto was also a member of Valencia working up from street rat to lieutenant. He was arrested when Axel was twenty and died in prison when he was twenty-five.

Antonia, his mother, was a reserved woman. She was hard-working and loved her children. However, she listened to her husband and he was the head of the household. When Roberto went to prison, Axel took over the role of head of the household. His mother fell ill in his late twenties and currently lives in an assisted living facility in Redridge. Axel visits her regularly.

As for his siblings, he keeps up with all of them. One attends the community college and he is adamant that they keep up with their grades and continue their education. He keeps in almost daily touch with each and every one of them and adores his nieces and nephews. Whenever he can visit, he makes a point to but hates to fly so it is usually only once or twice a year at most for those who live outside of Nevada.

School wasn’t Axel’s strong suit. He could never focus and everything just made him feel like he was stupid when he knew he wasn’t stupid. He just wasn’t book smart. So he dropped out right before eleventh grade and worked at Roberto’s. As soon as he was able to, he joined Valencia as a street rat and moved up the ranks to Bone-breaker once he had proven himself. However, he enjoys doing soldier work still so he will pick up any spare jobs if they are available.

As far as romance goes, Axel has never been with anyone long. He enjoys both women and men and their company, but he has a hard time letting anyone past his walls. The few times he has tried, he fucked it up in one way or another. So, he stays single and just holds casual relationships.

He loves to fight and he is good at making people disappear, getting jobs done efficiently, and intimidation. Axel is very loyal to Valencia.

Currently, he is always on the move. He doesn’t like to be idle for long. So he is either doing work for Valencia or Roberto’s, moving around town, drinking at a bar, eating somewhere, fighting at Rogue’s, at the gym, watching fights, or sleeping in between any of those activities.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

Friends With Benefits/One-night Stands (unlimited): He likes physical activity and touch, he tries to pick people up often and especially after a fight. This could have been happening for a long time or just a night or be brand new.

Best Friend (0/1): This person knows him better than anyone. They just get him and is likely the only person he’s ever opened up to.

Close Friends (0/6): These people know him better than most, but he probably has only opened up about one or two things to them. He trusts these people and likes to be around them.

Employees: Anyone who wants to work at Roberto’s

Budding Romance (0/1): could be a fwb that progresses, someone who’s always been around but neither of them made the move to advance it past anything.

Enemies: Self explanatory, but they always butt heads in one way or another. Possibly have fought in the past, but definitely never have anything nice to say about one another.

Past relationships (0/4): People who tried to break through his walls and didn’t get through. Or they just didn’t work out for any multitude of reasons.

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/kitmeowza/c-axel-martinez/

#redridgeimp #intro #; about #//have my child #//hope this is okay

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rpgwrites · 5 years ago

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Diabetes Day: My Story

For Diabetes Day I decided to say how my experiences have been over the years including how I was diagnosed. Please know I’ll only talk about Type 1.

I also have a diabetes blog @lifeofadiabeticlove

Warnings for needles and medical equipment. And please note that I was diagnosed at the age of six.

So, I have been a diabetic for 16 years which is a very long time. I remember when it was 10 years I had to stop and think. Because, I couldn’t believe that I had this thing for so long. If I remember correctly it was in a doctor’s office. Another person asking how long I had this for, I started to count on my finger as I’ve done countless time and then I realized...it’s been 10 freaking years.

But, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let me first tell the story of how I was diagnosed.

Although I was diagnosed at the age of 6 I showed clear symptoms at 5. My mom used to say I already had diabetes by then. I remembered the symptoms I’ve shown. I was so tired all the time. I slept a lot. Thirst was a big big problem with me. I would have this thirst that would never go away. I would drink and drink until I was so full of water, but yet my thirst wasn’t clenched. Later my paents, my mother mostly, had this rule of not drinking anything past 6pm. And this was really hard for me. I also went to the toilet A LOT. Like really a lot. And so so hungry. People used to say they couldn’t believe how I could eat so much yet be so thin. My family used to joke there was a hole in my stomach to where all the food disapeared too.

These are the most memorable symptoms I had. I also remember what I now know is to have a low. My hands were shaking my tongue felt numb and I felt weak. But after I ate something I felt so much better.

My mom is a nurse and she used to talk to her co-worker and friend about these symptoms I had. She used to tell my mother to just test my sugar. Months went by where she didn’t until one day she took a testing meter from work. They said she could borrow it. The one morning I was getting ready for school, not wanting to go to school at all because I hated kindergarten. So she told me to sit on my bed I thought I did something wrong but did as she told. Then she began to test my sugar. It was strange, I didn’t understand why she pricked my finger or why my blood was needed. She was shocked by the results. Please forgive me it has been 16 years and I was really young at that time but the results were nearby 32 point something. And that’s really high.

But I didn’t need to go to school which I was very happy about. We went to the doctor’s office and the doctor called one of his co-workers. The other doctor thought I was in a coma and was shocked to hear I was playing with toys at the time. I went for blood tests and I remember this so well. My mother promised if I behave well she buy me a chocolate. Which of course I wasn’t even allowed to eat. I can’t remember if I ever got the chocolate or not. But the funny thing about me at that age was that I didn’t have much love for sugar, sweets, cookies, etc. I loved healthy food and fruit, that type of thing.

Things were strange when I admitted at the hospital. I didn’t understand what was going on. And when the trolley with sweets came and nurses said I’m not allowed to get any I didn’t understand why. But lol the girl that was in the bed beside me gave me something(maybe she saw how shocked I was) for which I was thankful for. At visiting time my mom came so I told her about this incident. She gave me a strange look and explained to me that I’m a diabetic and I’ll need to make some lifestyle choices. My kindergarten classmates made me this book of pictures they made to wish a speedy recovery. Then the nurse came with my insulin just before she wanted to inject me my mother stopped her. “She should do it,” my mother said.

I looked at the injection and didn’t want to do it. “You need to learn how to inject yourself,” she explained. I thought it was cruel. I didn’t understand why I should do it. I didn’t want to put a needle into my skin, it seemed unpleasant. The nurse excused herself and my mom looked at me and said, “You’re a big girl now. Kids you’re age learned this a long time ago”. So for just the sake of proving myself I did it. And it wasn’t so bad.

In the end I was thankful that I learned then to do it. Adults would come to me with sorry looks, which I hated, and they couldn’t believe that a 6 year old could inject herself. And then the comments came.

Comments like, “Why are you a diabetic? Did you eat too much sugar?” It made me mad because what they said was that I did this to myself. And today I hate comments like this. But if you hear something a lot you’ll start to believe it. And I started to think, that maybe it was my fault and I had this struggle. Because I knew I didn’t eat too much sugar. I knew a lot of other kids ate a lot more than I did, so I wondered, why did I have to become a diabetic but they don’t. It didn’t seem fair. So one day I asked my mom if this was my fault, if I ate too much sugar. She assured me it wasn’t true, that, that wasn’t a cause of diabetes.

And speak about all of this because I was a kid that was diagnosed if you feel sorry for them because they need to go for blood tests, prick fingers, and inject themselves do it so that they don’t see it. I get it. I really do. A kid doing these things isn’t the best mental image but they don’t see it like that. I can only say how it was for me. For me it was like a basic need. We do it because we have no other choice.

As a kid I’d get these awful lows. It was attacks. I’d wake up screaming like something horrible was happening. And yes, I made some people freak out. Not on purpose of course. This was terrible experiences for me. But thank goodness I don’t get them like this anymore.

As a kid my mom used to say, “You can be a sick diabetic or a healthy diabetic.” I get what she was saying and that is all good and well. But if you try and not succeed it’s not the best thing. Which leads me to this. Do not talk about other people losing their leg because of diabetes. We know the risks. Believe me the diagrams at the doctor offices puts enough fear into us for that. We know what diabetes can do to us. That there can be awful consequences. This is really important. And my mom used to use this tactic a lot. We’d go to the mall and there would be a man in a wheel chair that had an amputated leg so she’ll say, “You see that man. He have diabetes. He didn’t look after himsef they had to amputate it.” It’s not an assuring thought.

Well folks that’s from me. 16 years of sitting with this have taught me a thing of two. This post ended being really long so I’ll make another post. Explaing some things I’ve experienced what people said to me, etc.

May everyone have a fantastic Diabetes Day 2019. And for those that did not know, Diabetes Day is on 14 November because it was Sir Frederick Banting ‘s birthday. Who is he? In 1922 he and Charles Best co-discovered insulin. And this diabetic right here is very thankful for it. I probably wouldn’t have been here without insulin. Which makes the fact that some can’t afford insulin heartbreaking.

#Diabetes Day 2019 #My story #TW needles and other medical stuff

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nunaya-business · 5 years ago

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Hi, Let’s Talk About Some Controversial Shit Yeah?

So lately people have been telling Horikoshi Kohei to go kill himself, because they’re trying to be a shitty version of Shane Dawson exploring conspiracy theories that have no right to exist. I don’t even know where to fucking start, but since I’m not a YouTuber, but I’m a writer, I decided to ditch my phone for this one, and am currently typing this shit out on my laptop. Yes, that is how pissed I am.

A new decade and a new start to the shittiness that was 2010-2020. More and more people of the LGBTQ started coming out of the dark and trying to accept who they are to the chagrin of assholes who have no business in their lives anyway. I feel like there’s been a lot more racism here than there was from 2000-2010, or maybe that’s just me. I think it’s because people are getting more vocal with their opinions as the earth goes to shit. We are slowly killing it after all. Not only is there more racism, sexism, anti-LGBTQ pricks, and people prejudice against other religions (the prejudice against Muslims is a big one. Poor Muslims, it’ll be okay, Brookie’s on your side), but there are now people who don’t like freedom of speech, or the right to write a story, and people who are just plain pussies because they don’t wike dere wittle feewings huwt 😥.

I could write for hours about all of those subjects. But since I’m an aspiring writer myself, I picked the right to write. What do I mean by that? I mean the right for an author of any kind to write their story, their way, without these little pussies coming around and being like, “bro can you not mention the Mongols breaking through the Great Wall of China? Yeah, because I’m from a Chinese family and I don’t want to be reminded of my ancestor’s tribulations even though it was 800 years ago. Thanks”. Let me break this shit down like I’m in debate class and my entire University grade depends on me winning this “argument”.

Writing is an art. Duh. People don’t write because they had a good life, I don’t care what anyone says. Writers write because it relieves stress, allows them to get their feelings out in a healthy way, take them away to their own little world in their own special way to escape the hell they’re living through, lets them vent the dark desires and thoughts they may have, and get their opinions out there when they feel like no one listens. Writing is a cure for depression for some people. It’s a healthy kind of drug that doesn’t make someone overdose (unless they’re like me and write’s for hours on end losing sleep and starving themselves just to write an idea down before they forget it).

People write about what they can’t speak. My mom has this saying “say it forget it, write it regret it”, and in certain contexts that saying is a good moral to have, but that’s not always the case. My mom and I watched the movie “Her” the other day and (spoilers) at the end of the movie, the main character Theodore, who’s a writer, writes a letter to his ex-wife. He writes about how they met, how they grew up together, how they grew to be the best of friends, then lovers, then built a trust they couldn’t replace, and the sorrow he felt when the relationship started crumbling. Joaquin Phoenix did an amazing job lamenting about the character’s past, most likely because he’s been through a lot too, and the character did an astounding job putting his words to paper (or in this case email) and getting out years of stress and sadness so that he can start loving life again.

The point of me describing that scene was to show the impact writing has on some people. It’s the escape they need and sometimes the emotions they feel put into a context where they can explain it all they want without having to waste a breath.

Now, picture if you will, that you’re a writer down on your luck. You have an amazing story to tell and the audience in mind that you want to tell it to, but no one believes in you. They want to alter your story to suit a wider audience, but, you don’t give a shit about appealing to people, you’re telling a story that helped you and may help others too, no matter the money you might lose or recognition you’ll never gain. Imagine that you found a way to both appeal to a wider audience and tell that story you have in your mind’s view. It gets more popular than most media to come out of your country and helps you bring in more than enough money you need to survive. Suddenly people are falling in love with the characters you wrote in more ways than one. People are starting to call it a modern classic and then, you start getting letters from people all around the world telling you how much your writings helped them and that they’re living better lives because they were inspired or motivated by the words you oh so carefully put onto a page, with the art you spent hours, upon days, upon weeks on opening people’s eyes to what they’re capable of.

I may have put some personal shit in that last paragraph, but I was mainly talking about the subject of this... (essay?) Horikoshi Kohei. A man who never gave up because dammit, he had a story to tell and fuck anyone who doesn’t want to hear it. All that matters to real writers is that someone feels special because of the words you put together on a page. Horikoshi puts a lot of time and effort into My Hero Academia, and what does his fans do? They tell him to kill himself because he dared wordplay to get the names of some characters. Y’know it’s funny, I don’t hear a lot of Jews, trans, gay, or Polish people complain about the shit their ancestors went through 70 years ago during the Holocaust like they went through it as well, but I always hear about Korean, Chinese, and Black people (off the top of my head don’t @ me) complain about shit their ancestors went through from 70 all the way back to a thousand years ago. Not to say that everyone in those races do that. because they don’t. I’m sure a majority probably doesn’t give two flying fucks what someone writes as long as they aren’t being personally targeted or threatened. But go on Horikoshi’s Twitter once and tell me that you don’t see hundreds of his followers (mostly Asian) threatening him and criticizing his naming of his characters. If you’re Korean or Chinese and you find issue with the fact that Horikoshi named a mother fucking villain character after a place where your specific race was tortured and experimented on, decades before were even fucking thought of, please tell me why. If you feel personally attacked then you’re... (I don’t wanna use retarded because people will automatically stop reading and DM me about my word choice) doltish. That’s a fancy word for stupid by the way. Maybe if it were one of the heroes named that way then I would completely understand, but it’s not. It’s a fucking villain.

But hey, what do I know? I’ve never been through shit. I’m just a plain, short and chubby little white girl with a big mouth that’s never been the victim of prejudice or racism. No one’s ever taken a look at me and judged me based on my ancestors or religious choices. No one’s ever made fun of my accent or the color of my skin, or the birth defect that effected my feet and slightly effected my hands.

Oh by the way, my mom’s a closet Psychopath that wasn’t diagnosed because the rest of the family is too fucking psycho for anyone to notice her torturing animals at a young age. My dad was a Paranoid Schizophrenic with an undiagnosed Psychosis and severe PTSD (diagnosed) that grew up in a home with an abusive father and a mother that was too busy grooming her oldest son (take that how you will) to pay any attention to him. Not to mention she also killed him. It’s not like my dad’s dad was also a psychopath that purposefully killed my unborn brother and laughed when my mom miscarried It’s not like my life was at risk because there was people shooting at my house (where I lived with my grandfather) and I could hear the bullets bouncing off of the trees. It’s not like I was bullied when I was little leading to a brain injury that caused my memory to be fucked up and my speech to slur and stutter. Oh and I definitely didn’t have to start being a second mom to my brother, and an actual mom to my little cousin because my family doesn’t give a fuck how their actions effect others.

I didn’t have the worst life by all means. There’s a lot more people that I know personally that have had it way worse than I have. I’m just saying, don’t take shit so fucking personally. Grow some goddamn balls and stop telling people to go kill themselves because they named a character something you didn’t like. Stop bringing up shit from the past unless people ask about it, or you’re telling you life story. It’s 2020. It’s time to stop being pussies and act like functioning members of society.

Oh and one last thing. Ya’ll are telling a man to kill himself while the corona virus is spreading like the plague. I think we should be more fucking worried about the fact that humanity could easily be wiped out thanks to the Chinese government silencing a scientist who know about the damn virus a year ago. If anything, we should be targeting them and Trump for being awful, not a poor mangaka that was just word playing with the names of his characters.

#fuck this shit im out #horikoshi kohei #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #corona virus #shane dawson #japan #china #south korea #her #jaoquin phoenix #im taggin all this shit so people see this #go i hope it works #i spent an hour just typing this shit #rant over #*mic drop*

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asking-jude · 5 years ago

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Hi. I just realized there's a huge possibility that I might have PMDD. Literally all the symptoms are there. However, my "great" father, as stupid as it sounds, somehow doesn't believe in mental health issues and both myself and my mother have diagnosed chemical imbalances. He truly believes that our own thoughts, because apparently we like worrying and being dramatic af as he likes to call it, are what cause our anxiety and depression. [1]

(ask continued) ...So we've established he's a prick. But his behavior affects my health because I want to get this PMDD thing sorted out and he always comes with me to doctor appointments (I'm still a minor). I won't be able to tell the doctor my symptoms and discuss them properly because he'll twist my every word around. And if I do get diagnosed, he won't accept me taking the appointed meds. So great. What the hell am I going to do...?

I’m sorry Dad is not helpful in this situation. :( The sad part is that your and your mother’s experiences are not unusual at all; society in general and the medical community do not take most women’s concerns or health problems seriously. You’ll notice that anything related to menstruation, menopause, or reproductive health in general is a really uncomfortable topic for a lot of people, so that’s where a lot of the stigma and unhelpful comments like your dad’s come from.

Definitely go to your doctor’s appointments with dad, but talk to your doctor alone if you can. Share your concerns; they are there to help you and advocate for you. I promise that any doctor worth their degree will listen to you and be in your corner. They can talk to dad alone, as well, so you don’t have to listen to dad’s comments. Since this will be coming from a professional, he’s more likely to listen. Look into getting mom on your side, too, since she’s also dealing with this.

If anything, do some research and send it to him. Look for scholarly articles and medical journals/articles and send them dad’s way. He really should research this on his own because this affects his loved ones. Parents who have kids with any sort of disorder should research their children’s conditions so they can better care for their children. Likewise, partners should research their partner’s conditions so that they may better support their partners. I have PCOS and my bf went and did some research without me even suggesting it because he wanted to learn more so he could possibly help me. That’s what dad should be doing, but it’s uncomfortable for him, so he’s not doing it.

To elaborate more on your dad’s likely thought process, he probably comes from a generation where nobody talked about anything meaningful; he’s likely from the era where people struggled in silence because of shame. Not only that, but it sounds like dad’s attitudes about mental illness stem from common misconceptions. Think about it like this, the way dad sees mental illnesses is comforting to him; if he thinks mental illnesses are just the products of “bad thoughts” or certain behaviors (essentially mixing up cause and effect), then it empowers him to think he’ll never be susceptible to the misery of mental illness. He thinks he can keep it away with mere willpower and that anyone who has to deal with mental illnesses is weak. In other words, this attitude makes him feel strong and in control. He’s completely wrong, of course, but the kernel of truth is that some of the behaviors people with mental illnesses exhibit don’t help their current situation. That being said, he definitely has cause and effect mixed up overall. None of this excuses his behavior; he is making your struggles more difficult with his nasty attitude. I also suspect that he uses your condition to justify his poor behavior; if he can dismiss you and mom as crazy, he thinks he’s immune to accountability. In other words, he thinks that he can dismiss your concerns and save himself trouble of having to actually help you and mom and behave like a decent human being if he just says it’s all in your head, etc.

Hugs,

Angelica Barile

Asking Jude needs YOUR help! Donate pocket change here and save our safe space.

#ask #advice #mental health

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drunklander · 6 years ago

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Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 411

This week, on Outlander: Claire carries all of the water for Jamie! Lord John can’t decide if he’s dumb and creepy or a cool dude! Roger is still my designated tea refill break! Bree is back to being the worst! Murgsali remains the best!

It’s week two of my drunk recaps being done while not drunk *shakes fist at the concept of Dry January* and my willpower is being aggressively tested.

I hate this fake-out with Roger as much as I hate the fake-out in ep. 1x03 with Claire and Mrs. Fitz.

Are we going to get Roger back at the stones and his decision to stay and him being recaptured and stuff next week? Or are we just going to pick back up at the village and we just need to fill all that in ourselves? Tbh, I almost would have preferred Roger just not being in this episode...

Oh the title card... Bree is suddenly now a great artist! (Seriously, how the fuck did she never draw Roger at any point before Rogergate happened?! Like, cool if you don’t want to share who raped you, literally this whole thing could have been avoided without sharing that tidbit if Jamie KNEW WHAT ROGER LOOKED LIKE. Oh, thanks for the heads up, Lizzie, but it turns out that the guy you saw is Bree’s boyfiend. I punched him for leaving her, but it turns out he’s just a dick, not a rapist.) (Second week in a row that I’ve made that typo. It’s like even my subconscious doesn’t like Roger.)

And Bree loves drawing the enslaved people on her great-aunt’s plantation! Which she apparently is totally cool with!

Also, Bree says Aunt wrong. It’s a minor thing but one that is driving me up a fucking wall every time she says it. (People in Massachusetts say it like Ahnt, not Ant.)

Geez, Lizzie, Bree doesn’t need to easily forgive Jamie. Jamie doesn’t deserve to be easily forgiven. Honestly, Lizzie is the least to blame for this whole fiasco. She saw a dude being rough with Bree and then the next time she saw Bree was post-rape. Jamie was a complete prick to Bree, beat the shit out of a random guy without letting him get a word in edgewise and had his nephew get rid of him. And then didn’t fucking tell Claire, who probably would have put two and two together, about it. Fuck that guy.

I simultaneously can’t believe and 1000% can believe they read this shit heap of a story line and were like “Yep, this is great stuff! Let’s definitely spend half a season on it!”

ROLLO! THE GOODEST BOY!

Ugh. Young Ian being like “Oh hey, Auntie Claire, how about you go do the emotional labor of making Jamie feel better about being a fucking dumbass!” Hard pass, Ian. Hard fucking pass.

So here for Claire’s “what you *both* thought.” Like yep, Ian, you’re at fault too. I know you love your uncle, but you gave that whole big speech at River Run about being your own man and yada yada, so maybe fucking own your part in this. You didn’t fucking have to sell a guy into fucking slavery. BUT YOU’RE STILL NOT AS MUCH TO BLAME AS JAMIE. FUUUUCK THAT GUY.

Also, Jamie, you dumb fuck. You should have been fucking groveling by now. You get no points for keeping your distance. Nut up and mea culpa the shit out of this situation.

Honestly, if they wanted to make the show just about Fersali and Murtz, at this point I’d be totally on board.

Wait, so Fergus has been unemployed this whole time? How the fuck have they been living for the past year then? What happened to his job at the printer? I have so many questions...

So Bree, who grew up in civil rights era Boston and had a Black roommate, is totally just chill about living on a plantation and being waited on by enslaved people? Like, we’re not going to mention this at all? Cool. Cool cool cool.

Also like fucking mother like daughter. She’s like “Oh hey, Phaedre, I’m going to draw you. Sit there. No, I’m not going to ask if you want to be drawn. Or take into account what Jocasta might do to you because of my decision to make you not be doing what you’re expected to be doing. Like my Mom did with asking you to call her by her first name, I’m just gonna disregard what the consequences might be for you because treating you like this will make me feel better about myself.”

Maria Doyle Kennedy continues to be awesome.

"Sorry! Did I wake ye?” I love Marsali so fucking much.

I really like them giving what was a convo with Jenny and Jamie about Ian in the books to Marsali and Murtagh about Fergus. But man, women do so much of the emotional labor in this fucking episode. Marsali is running a house, caring for a baby and risking having a wanted man sleeping in her kitchen but she also has to like fluff the pillows for Fergus’ feelings.

Yes, I know that spouses should support each other and be there when the other one needs something. But since we see so little of Fersali now, we’re not seeing this as a two way relationship. Just Marsali doing it for Fergus.

That being said, I do think it’s very sweet of Marsali.

“If I wanted him shot, I’d do it myself. And it wouldna be Fergus I’d take aim at first. He doesna put his boots on my blankets.” I just fucking love her so much, y’all.

Does Murtagh know who Marsali is yet though? Does he know about Jamie marrying Laoghaire? Were we robbed of the glorious Murtz reaction we could have had? Le sigh. If I had a drink, I’d pour one out...

Oh hey, Gerald. Is your name going to stay Gerald? Or are you randomly going to start being Neil in a couple seasons?

“Have you been enjoying your time at River Run?” “Yes, I love River Run. I love living with a bunch of racists, benefiting from the enslavement of Black people. I never once bring up how uncomfortable I am, or even look like I’m uncomfortable about the situation. I am not at all morally conflicted about my current situation. Everything is totally cool.”

I raged a lot during ep. 4x02, and honestly that rage all still stands.

Oh hey! John Grey, Lord of Convenient Appearances is back!

Fergus talking to Germain is my everything. “It seems there are some here who do not appreciate your contribution to the cause.” *swoon* I can’t wait for him to teach his lil dude the fine art of pickpocketing...

I LOVE THE FERGUS AND MURTAGH RELATIONSHIP A LOT AND I’M VERY GLAD THEY’RE GETTING SCREEN TIME TOGETHER.

BASICALLY I LOVE MURTAGH’S RELATIONSHIP WITH EVERYONE.

I JUST LOVE MURGSALI OK.

Bree’s like that obnoxious college freshman who comes home on break and is like all insufferable because they took like one intro to psych class and now want to like diagnose everyone they know with random shit.

“Must I close my eyes when you are before me?” “Yes.” Well played, Bree, but I still do not like you at all in this episode.

Man, 18th century tinder fucking sucks.

I know this show isn’t subtle at all, but jfc, they’re like punching us in the face with the judge being gay.

Bree, Claire and Betty fucking Draper should start a club for women who drink like fish while preggo.

Ok so I’m on board with the convo with LJG and Bree about his vision or whatever, but then it crosses over into creepy later on in the episode.

Can Lizzie please fuck off already? She’s annoying af.

Also, she blurts out that Bree’s pregnant but managed to keep it a secret that Jamie kicked the shit out of a guy for weeks? I’m calling shenanigans on that.

I get that the convo with John and Bree about Jocasta trying to marry off Bree to some rando is supposed to like be clearing up the handfasting is marriage vs. not marriage thing that the show can’t make up its mind about, but it still bugs me, tbh. A lot.

I still am lowkey annoyed that they expect us to be so invested in Roger and Bree when they did like nothing to build up their relationship before it went to shit (both times). Like, you’re lazy when it comes to your characters, show. You’re doing a bad job. If no one is invested in the characters then all the plot in the world won’t make the show good.

The amount this show relies on book readers backfilling shit is absurd.

Jocasta, as a woman and figure in society, is a far more understandable giver of this speech about Bree needing to be married than Jamie, a dude who can have her live with him in his and Claire’s house in fucking bumblenowhere backwoods. But still, WHY DON’T THESE FUCKERS JUST TREAT HER LIKE SHE’S MARRIED. SHE TECHNICALLY IS. SHE’S HANDFAST. WHO GIVES A FUCK IF THERE WEREN’T WITNESSES. NO ONE IN CROSS CREEK KNOWS THAT. PEOPLE WILL JUST ACCEPT WHAT YOU TELL THEM. I HATE THAT ALL THESE FUCKERS WON’T PUT THAT TOGETHER.

Ok, cool that Lord John is getting some action, I’m am 10000% here for him to be happy with a man who actually wants him back instead of creepily pining over Jamie forever. But FFS YOU ARE NOT STUPID. WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU BANGING THIS DUDE IN THE GODDAMN HALLWAY?! YOU ARE A VERY CAREFUL PERSON. YOU KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF PEOPLE KNOW YOU’RE GAY. YOU FUCKING GOT SHIPPED OFF TO ARDSMUIR BECAUSE OF RUMORS ABOUT YOU AND HECTOR. YOU ARE SMARTER THAN THIS YOU STUPID FUCKING FUCK.

All that aside, I totally ship John and the judge and they should totally be boyfriends and bang a lot, but FUCKING NOT IN THE GODDAMN HALLWAY OF SOMEONE ELSE’S HOUSE WHEN THEY KNOW THEY LIVE IN A HOMOPHOBIC AF SOCIETY.

Ok, fuck Brianna for this blackmail bullshit. Fuck her so fucking much. She is the literal worst right now. Like are you fucking kidding me, Bree?! You’re garbage. I know this shit is in the book, but fucking christ. It’s bad. Fucking have Bree talk to John like “Look, my aunt is trying to marry me off. That fucking hobbit is going to propose as soon as I go back inside. I don’t want to marry him, you know I’m waiting to see if my parents can find my quasi-husband. Can you please do me a solid and say we’re engaged so people leave me the fuck alone until my parents get back?” We *know* John would say yes to that, because he eventually fucking goes along with it for THAT EXACT FUCKING REASON. SO WHY ARE THEY HAVING FROM-THE-POST-STONEWALL-FUTURE BREE THREATEN A GUY WITH THIS SHIT. SHE KNOWS HOW QUEER FOLKS ARE TREATED IN HER OWN FUCKING TIME, AND THIS IS THE PAST AND THE PAST IS THE FUCKING WORST. FUUUUUUCK HER.

“That sounds like a threat.” BREE, YOU DON’T GET TO BE BUTTHURT ABOUT BEING THREATENED WHEN YOU LITERALLY JUST TOLD A GUY YOU WERE GOING TO RUIN HIS LIFE, YOU ABSOLUTE ASSHOLE.

“I wouldn’t have said a word to anyone. I’d just threaten you with your worst fear. Because I’m a raging asshat.”

It’s creepy af that they’re like talking around John being in love with Jamie. I honestly hate that part of John so fucking much. Like he could be such a great character if they could fucking lay off the him pining over and being weirdly possessive of Jamie shit.

Ok, so with Bree now just telling everyone that it was Bonnet who raped her it’s really coming off that Jamie’s manpain was the *only* reason she didn’t tell anyone but Claire before. Which is so fucked up! She was raped! Fuck Jamie’s manpain! If she wants to tell people, she should fucking tell people! Sorry not sorry, but if you were brutally raped and possibly impregnated by some fucker and you want to let people know who it was because it turns out he’s a fucking sociopath, that fucking trumps “oh, my bio dad might feel icky about it.”

“The union of our families is a blessing to us all. Except for the second someone better comes along. Because omg he’s a *lord*! Bye, Neil. Go have yourself some second breakfast.”

Oh fuck you, Jamie. You don’t get to be butthurt at Claire. Claire didn’t beat the everloving fuck out of some rando at the word of a maid, send him into slavery and then keep it a fucking secret. Also like, why the fuck did he even keep it a secret from Claire?! Why not do what Bree did and tell Claire but have her not tell Bree? And he’s still keeping him asking Murtagh to track Bonnet down from Claire. Seriously, fuck Jamie.

Oh Rollo, this isn’t Terminus. We don’t eat people in this show.

I literalol’ed at them pulling an Everest and using a dead body as a wayfinding tool. Probs not the reaction they were going for.

“He is... very much like his father.” DON’T MAKE IT WEIRD, JOHN.

"Good doesn’t come into it. I love him more than life itself.” I love the convo about loving a kid even if you’re not the bio dad, but this “It’s only new because there is hope.” bullshit while they’re sitting on the FUCKING PORCH OF A PLANTATION, LOOKING OUT AT ENSLAVED PEOPLE WHILE THE REST OF THE FAM IS OFF LOOKING FOR THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE LIVED ON THE LAND FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS, IS SO FUCKING TONE DEAF IT HURTS.

“I was upset, but not with you.” Uh, Claire? YOU SHOULD BE UPSET WITH JAMIE. WHAT THE FUCK. YOU SHOULD ABSOLUTELY BE UPSET WITH JAMIE.

I get Claire’s reasons for not telling Jamie. I think Bree should have told Claire to tell Jamie since it seems like her only hesitation for doing so was Jamie’s #feelings. And I 100000000% think that it makes *zero* sense that she never told Jamie what Roger looks like. But Claire is doing way fucking more than her share of apologizing here. JAMIE IS THE ONE WHO SHOULD BE DOING THE BIG DRAMATIC APOLOGY. THIS IS LIKE 99.7% HIS FUCKING FAULT.

I HATE ROGERGATE SO FUCKING MUCH.

“Frank made plenty of mistakes.” UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE FUCKING CENTURIES, BEAUCHAMP.

Aaaand then they couch it as an “all parents do” thing. BECAUSE OH NO, CAN’T ACKNOWLEDGE THAT HE WAS AN ABUSIVE JACKASS. NOPE. CAN’T DO THAT.

This show is fucking *killing* me with its refusal to make the male characters accountable for their actions.

And then we get the same sex scene we got in the premiere. Because even though Jamie and Claire get freaky in oh-so-many different ways in the later books, the show has decided that from now on they need to be vanilla and boring. I mean, in the book this bit is described as fierce with blind desperation. I know I always say I want them to deviate from the book, but ffs, I didn’t mean make all the sex the same when the situations and emotional states of the characters when they’re together are very different...

And no, Balfe, I’m not a “horny granny.” (Seriously, fuck her for that comment, tbh. I know what she was probably trying to say, but word choice, Caitriona. It’s fucking important.) I’m not watching this show for the smut. But the core relationship, what’s supposed to be the heart of the show, is now monotonous af.

Jamie and Claire as characters have always been a couple who express themselves passionately and physically. But now suddenly they’re just like soft af all the time? Where’s the fire? Where’s the spark? You don’t need to have nudity to show passion, show. I’m not asking for a parade of boobs and butts. (If there was contractual stuff involved with that for actors or whatever, more power to them.) But ffs, the show is managing to make me bored with the main fucking ship.

And then Roger gets the shit kicked out of him again and I’m here for it.

Because I still don’t like that guy.

(But seriously, framing the various Native American tribes as the “bad guys” is getting old af.)

#*#outlander starz #outlander 4x11 #drunj!der yells about outlander #rogergate

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highfivecalum · 6 years ago

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Our Home Place {CH} 2

“HE’S SO FUCKING hot,” Natalie exclaimed through the phone to her best friend. “Like, seriously? It’s actually unfair how hot he is, Allie.” She chewed on her lip as she slowed down at the yellow light that just turned red and rested her head against the headrest in her car.

Allie snorted and even though Natalie couldn’t see her she knew she was rolling her eyes at her. Natalie had been complaining and gushing about how hot Calum was for ten minutes and Allie stayed quiet on the other end of the phone. “Jump his bones then.”

“I can’t just jump his bones! He’s, like, technically my boss.”

“You’re babysitting his daughter. That doesn’t make him your boss, Nat.”

“But he’s paying me! And if I had sex with him, which won’t happen- by the way, it would feel like he was paying me for sex. And-” Natalie paused, throwing her hands up and honking her horn at the person in front of her. The light changed to green five seconds ago and they hadn't moved. “Fucking drive, idiot!” To say she had road rage would be putting it lightly.

“Are you driving?”

“Yes, I’m driving, Allie.”

“That’s not safe. Where are you even going? It’s, like, six in the morning.”

“Where do you think I’m going?” She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to see my mom at the hospital before I have to go to Calum’s house.”

Natalie’s mother had fallen sick and was diagnosed with breast cancer just two years prior. Natalie spent most of her free time, when she had any, driving twenty minutes to the hospital her mother was in to visit her and see how she was doing. The doctors hadn’t caught it early on, Natalie’s mother already having stage three cancer, so the treatments were limited. Natalie knew her mother didn’t have much time left to live, maybe less than a year, and she hated the thought of losing her mother so young, but she tried not to dwell on it, and tried to spend as much time with her as she possibly could.

“Shit. I’m late. Again.” Allie cursed at herself for being late for work for the second day in a row. She wasn’t too great with time management and always slept through her alarm. “I gotta go, Nat. Tell you mom I say hi. Love you!”

“Love you.” Natalie mumbled before ending the call, the music that was playing before Allie called her now filling the car.

After searching for a parking spot for ten minutes, Natalie finally found one way too far away, and rushed inside of the hospital. She had limited time since she had to be at the Hood residence at eight o’clock when Calum left for work and it was already nearing seven. She greeted the receptionist who she was on a first name basis with and quickly signed in and got her visitor pass.

“Hi mama.” Natalie whispered to her mother while quietly shutting the door behind her. She was getting blood drawn and tests done to her and Natalie didn’t want to interrupt the doctor. Natalie sat in the same chair she had hundreds of times before, pulling her knees up to her chest, and resting her chin on top.

She cringed as she watched the doctor stick a needle in her mother’s arm but her mother didn’t even flinch. She had lost count of how many times she had been pricked by needles, so it didn’t phase her anymore, but Natalie hadn’t gotten used to watching it and she knew she never would.

“Hello Natalie.” Dr. Irwin smiled at her happily. He had gotten used to her constant unexpected visits, so her interrupting didn’t bother him anymore. He was fond of her and it made him happy that she visited her mother as much as she could. He thought it was sweet, even though Natalie was a twenty-two year old woman and could have been out partying at night, she would stay the night at the hospital instead of going out, and Dr. Irwin found it refreshing.

“Dr. Irwin. How are you today?”

“I told you that you can call me Ashton, you know.” He smirked. “I think that after all of this time we’re on a first name basis now.”

“Mom told me it’s disrespectful to call you anything but Dr. Irwin.” Natalie winked at her mother jokingly, making her laugh, but not too hard, since she was in pain. Quickly changing the subject to her mother’s heath, Natalie was serious now and the smile on her face had disappeared. “How is she? Is she okay today?”

“I’m right here, sweetie, you can just ask me.” Michelle reminded her, but Natalie just waved her off, her attention still focused on Dr. Irwin. She knew that her mother would just tell her that she was feeling fine, even if she wasn’t, so she always wanted Dr. Irwin to tell her.

“She’s doing well.” Dr. Irwin assured Natalie with a smile. “Alright.” He tucked his chart under his armpit and smiled at Natalie and Michelle. “Tests are all done, so I’ll leave and get out of your hair. Rest up, Michelle.” He gave her a pointed look and then turned to Natalie with a small smile on his face. “Natalie; always good to see you.” He bid them a goodbye and shut the door behind him, giving them the privacy if they wanted it.

“How is your job hunt coming, Nat?” Michelle asked Natalie.

“I actually found a job!” Natalie clapped her hands excitedly and Michelle’s face lit up, motioning for Natalie to give her more details. “Well, you know Katie, who I used to work with?” Michelle nodded her head. “Her brother’s friend needed a babysitter, so she gave me his number and we talked and now I have a job.”

“That’s great, sweetie.”

“But, like, I’m going to be over at their house a lot, you know? He works Monday through Friday, so obviously I’ll have to be there, which means I won’t be able to come here as often.” Natalie frowned. That was the only downfall to this new job of hers. She would have to be at Calum’s house almost everyday, eight to six, to watch Lily and as much as she appreciated him offering her the job, she just wished she wouldn’t have to be there as much.

“Oh, Natalie, that’s okay. You can come early before you have to be there, or after you’re done, and on the weekends. It’ll be fine, sweetie.” Michelle loved that her only daughter visited her in the hospital as much as she could, but she also hated the fact that Natalie wasn’t out doing things and living her life like a normal twenty-two year old should.

“Yeah, I guess. We’ll figure it out.” Natalie sighed. She checked the time on her phone and frowned seeing that it was already almost seven-thirty and since the drive was twenty minutes and she didn’t want to be late, she would have to leave already. “I have to go already. I’ll come back later today after I’m done.”

Natalie leaned down, giving her mother a quick kiss on the cheek, careful of the tubes and wires on her, before making her way out of the room. “Love you, sweetheart!”

“Love you too!” She called over her shoulder as she shut the door. Natalie sped to Calum’s house, not wanting to be late on her first official day of ‘work’ and praised herself for getting there in under thirty minutes.

Lily was the one who answered the door this time, not Calum, and Natalie was so happy to see the little ball of sunshine that she would be babysitting. “Natty!” Lily hugged Natalie’s legs and Duke came running up to the two standing in the doorway.

“Hi buddy,” Natalie rubbed Duke’s head as she wrapped one arm around Lily’s small body, giving her an awkward hug, and Calum appeared in the doorway in a much different outfit than he wore the first time Natalie saw him. Instead of the athletic shorts and white t-shirt he wore when Natalie and him officially met, he was wearing a pair of black dress pants, a button up shirt, and a tie tied loosely around the collar of his shirt. He had a blazer draper over his arm and a pair of dress shoes on.

To say he looked attractive would be an understatement. He didn’t just look like a snack, he looked like a full fucking meal and Natalie’s mouth watered at the sight of him.

“Lily, let her go,” Calum laughed at the sight of the two of them and he shook his head. Flicking his wrist up, he checked the time on his watch, and cursed. “Shit. I’m going to be late.”

“Daddy! You said a bad word!” Lily covered her mouth in surprise. Calum usually didn’t cuss around Lily, he tried really hard not to, but sometimes a few bad words would slip here and there and he would scold himself for saying them in front of her.

“I know, baby.” Calum patted her head and Natalie pulled her lower lip in between her teeth. Hearing Calum say the word ‘baby’ did so many things to Natalie. Calum shoved his arms through his blazer and patted his pockets to make sure he had everything. “Alright.” He huffed. “You have my number, Natalie, so if you need anything just call me or shoot me a text. And I mean it, don’t hesitate or think you’re bothering me, because you’re not, so if you need anything at all, let me know. Okay?”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine, Calum.” Natalie assured him, but all he did was give her a pointed look and she exhaled a breathy laugh. Of course he would be worried about leaving his daughter with a new babysitter, but she didn’t want him to worry. “But I promise I will call if I need anything.”

“Be good for Natalie, okay Lils?”

“I will be, daddy.” Calum leaned down to hug Lily and she gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. He ruffled her hair before standing up straight. He said his final goodbyes and rushed to his car, leaving you and Lily on the front porch. “Can we go watch Peppa Pig now?” Natalie laughed and nodded her head. She followed Lily inside, making sure to lock the door behind her, and Duke followed behind the both of them.

Natalie’s day was uneventful, really. She and Lily watched Peppa Pig for hours on end and when Natalie swore her head was going to explode from staring at the pink pig all day. Lily refused to change the channel, until Natalie convinced her with ice cream, and then Lily didn’t hesitate to let Natalie finally change the channel.

And that’s how Natalie’s day went. Her, Lily, and Duke, cuddled up on the couch, watching Disney movies all day and night, until Calum got home, and she made dinner for the three of them. They ate dinner at the large island and talked and laughed as Lily slurped her spaghetti and got pasta sauce everywhere. And Natalie wasn’t ashamed to admit that it was the most content she had been in months.

❋ ❋ ❋

Taglist: @mariellelovescupcakes-blog @bumblebet20 @mermaid-merrick @katelynmusic @cliffordcntrl @bbylonxcal @poppedpins @rexorangecouny @ashton-ma-bestfriend @calumsbabydolll @datchickaree @babylonshood @boytoynamedcalum @sisterawesome-blog @fangirlingovereverythingblog @calistajs @checkeredcalum

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diabetes-reversal-clinic · 1 year ago

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How to Overcome Diabetes Burnout

It’s normal to be annoyed by constant blood sugar control. Here’s how you can take care of yourself and get back on track.

“I felt like I couldn’t do it any longer.” So I didn’t,” explains Sarah Kaye, a 35-year-old South Carolina mother of two who was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes as a preschooler.

What Exactly Is Diabetes Burnout?

However, burnout can take any form, regardless of intensity or duration.

Burnout can be exhausting for some people. You manage to keep your blood sugars within normal ranges, but you aren’t as diligent about checking them as you should be.

Others experience burnout as an unpleasant and overpowering sense of defeat, believing they can’t possible keep up with the demands of life with diabetes, whether type 1 or type 2.

Diabetes Burnout Factors

Burnout struck Sarah after a lengthy period of trying her absolute best and attaining her objectives.

Burnout began to set in about the time she found out she was pregnant—certainly not the time to take a break and replenish her diabetes management energy reserves.

Managing Diabetes Burnout

“Diabetes was the furthest thing from my mind, and I didn’t want it to be.” I despised diabetes and everything that came with it.”

Sarah’s postpartum burnout lasted nine months before she felt ready to return to the everyday rigors of diabetes.

Kate, whose burnout cloud is just now beginning to lift after several months, believes she is exiting the phase as gradually as she entered it.

“Be kind to yourself,” Kate advises. “It was always in the back of my mind that this trend couldn’t go on forever, but I needed time to let other things in my life settle down first.”

Our Outlook –

How are we able to Treat Diabetes Completely?

Visit diabetesreversal.clinic for additional details.

Know more about Ayurveda Diabetes Reversal.

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multiple-ideas · 4 years ago

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Journal 000-21-03-21 TW/ Abuse, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Mentions of Dark Humor/Dark Jokes , Panic Attacks, Sexual Harassment, Undiagnosed/Self-diagnosed Depression, Undiagnosed/Self-diagnosed Anxiety, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of Death, Trauma (Past Trauma), Mentions of Helicopter Parenting, Self-Harming (not cutting) CW/ Running Away From Home, Deafness, Blindness, Repetition, Fidgeting, Stuttering, Financial Problems, Insomnia, Intrusive thoughts, Not Sharing Anything To Anyone, Religion, Dismissive Attitude, Nonchalant Attitude to Stressful Situations, Bad Coping Mechanisms

BEFORE ANYTHING

Im not sure if I missed a tag, so any other topic relating to those up top, will be discussed, so please PROCEED WITH CAUTION AND THESE IN MIND!

Thank you! Stay safe, and look out for help if you need any while reading these!

--------------------------

Have I told you that I'm literally breaking? That I've been breaking since the 8th grade or probably even before then when my father told me not to tell you that he beat me up in the car parked in-front of our church in grade school?

Have I told you that my back cracks because I slouch a lot to help me curl up into myself and feel safe? Or how I move my leg a lot because if I don't it would feel like tons of needles are pricking it and either way I get tired?

Have I told you how my panic attacks are silent? And that they last for days and days on end but I can't do anything about it because everyone at home calls me and I feel really bad about snobbing whenever I get asked to do something when I'm in that state?

Have I talked about how my brain comes up with the most intrusive thoughts that I couldn't easily comprehend so many things around me? Why I end up staring at something without moving because my body decides to stop everything and stare at literally nothing?

Have I talked about how I couldn't get a lot of your jokes because I genuinely struggle understanding when people tell jokes or not if I haven't heard them before? Because I have an internalized fear that if I'm diagnosed with a mental illness that it'll be twice the struggle you already have with my brother?

Have I told you that I've thought about running away from the house and bringing my brother with me because I couldn't tolerate him being mistreated and beaten up at home all because he couldn't communicate well or he did something because he couldn't tell us what it was? How everything at home seems to be against him? How I took up this course solely for him and no one else, not even my parents?

Have I mentioned how I couldn't think well most of the time? How everything at home confuses me because one minute there'd be shouting and I want to run away with my brother, but the next it'd be safe and sound and everyone's laughing and I don't know whether to label our family as ok because other families fight too, or if there's genuinely something wrong and I have helicopter parents?

Have I talked about how I was gay and not a female? When I was screamed at on the phone in 11th grade by my father who said that I was off with guys around me, who were my close friends that were protective mind you, dating them? How my father told me that maybe I should go home with a boy instead? And that I'd get pregnant at such a young age?

Have you noticed how I didn't rebut saying "IM GAY! WHY WOULD I BOTHER?" because I knew my family was heavily homophobic and religious? How I can't tell them I'm nonbinary or that I'm asexual, or that I'm in the aromantic-spectrum because they wouldn't even bat an eye to listen to me explain how I could like girls more than the 0% of romantic interest I could get from guys?

Have you noticed that I have internalized homophobia? Because even if I was as gay as I come, I still held the strongest to my religion and I feel very dirty and in pain every time I see someone or my brain would link it up to being wrong even if I told someone God Loves All? Because I never truly went by all the things I told someone to comfort them? (Truly, a hypocrite, in the worst way possible) Because I look at my chest or my bottom and I think I deserve to live in whatever I got because of the way everything works around me?

Have I mentioned how I ask for fidget spinners, fidget cubes, rubber bands, lots of pens, lots of rings, earrings and bracelets, because these genuinely help me fidget and calm down to think about something, ONE THING, for that moment? How I don't understand why a lot of my things disappear, even if I know I probably left it somewhere and genuinely forgot I did something?

Have I talked about how I know my sleeping schedule is trash, and that I have a sick sense of humor? That my body is deteriorating and how I can't even hear or see well anymore to the point that I learned sign language (both american and british) because I fear that one day I might need it? And how I used to, and still sort of do, close my eyes walking around home and feeling the walls or the floor to practice if I went somewhat blind?

Have you heard how loudly I laugh when you're at home, or when I think someone is outside of my room (a skill I learned when I was a kid about if my dad was around the house), and you ask why I laugh so loudly, but in reality I'm usually so quiet on my own? How I think about how I want to live alone in a dorm/apartment but even Jillian knows that if I did, I'd starve myself unintentionally & intentionally, and that I'd refuse to talk to anyone or laugh because days like these drag on, but I act like they don't?

Have I mentioned that I talked to my best friend about how I have one twitter account extremely hidden with no followings or anything linked to my others because it's the most hidden and deep account that spills my most traumatizing-centered thoughts and has all my passwords and accounts there too because I fear if I die no one would know why or what I was? That they'd think I was such a loving straight female who didn't even talk to her sibling much or cook?

Have I said that I genuinely do want to learn how to cook, ride a bicycle, learn multiple instruments, get to have pets, know how to clean my laundry, but because of you guys telling me to get away from the kitchen or the laundry place at home when I was younger and until high school, I grew afraid of even cleaning at home, even if cleaning is one of my most favourite things to do at school, at home, or anywhere? How organizing and cleaning is a comfort for me? And that I can't do any of those because I genuinely fear so many things linked to our household?

Have you noticed how I make fun of myself a lot because I never knew how to talk about it before until I saw other people make fun of themselves too? I keep saying I'm not real, or that I'm going to die, did you notice those? How I couldn't remember something and I'd say I have the worst memory ever then proceed to laugh? How I'd stutter like hell doesn't know me and proceed to stop abruptly only to say I have a stupid stutter every time? That I joke around about how I know nothing about household things and I'd be a useless partner?

Have I talked about how I have tried multiple times before to tell someone my problem, but if they talk about it lightly, dismiss it, react softly, don't react much at all, or something, I feel offended, but then put it off as if nothing about it mattered? How I impulsively make everything come off so nonchalantly and it's fine with me, but if I bring that habit up, someone starts to worry about a lot of the things I say?

Have you seen the way I couldn't get close to most people? How I shiver internally whenever someone bothers to hug me if they're not batch 2920 or Tanya, Florence, Mave, Alweya, Farhana, or Salwa? That I can't stand the thought of being kissed anywhere (unless it's Jillian, for personal reasons) that I would literally shiver and freeze at the slightest touch anyone does (especially family members like my Mother or Grandmother who are very touchy) yet I won't explain why?

Have you noticed that I can't stand guys? For if you knew, then you'd know I was sexually harassed and I didn't like how those THS students looked at me, how I didn't like when they surrounded my computer used in the computer laboratory in 10th grade, or how they catcalled me whenever I used to pass by their hallway to pass something to a teacher, did you? How I, even when my clothes are the closes to masculine over feminine, were still being catcalled and looked at like I was an object? How I learned to hate people looking at me and glare back but was also just annoyed that I stopped looking at people in general unless I glare?

Have you noticed how I started to show my love for girls more these years? How I couldn't at all look at romance kissing scenes without going to look away with a face of disgust because truly, I couldn't understand how that works for me? How if I tell someone I like them, I don't genuinely think they would ever like me back and if they do, I don't know what to do and I think I lose my way and lowkey hope they didn't like me too? But feel hurt that they like me back and I should have seen that because now I'm responsible for their emotions too and if they get hurt because of me, it's better that way than getting hurt because of themselves for now knowing I was like this?

Have you seen how I couldn't say my words properly? How I genuinely can't get my thoughts across without blabbering for so long? Or that I've wanted help with my brain's thoughts and my antics, but I didn't want to spend my family's money on something that's so small (I think)? How I didn't want my family to worry about me at all so I don't tell them about these?

Have you noticed how I don't like buying things for myself unless it's for school? How I literally keep my money in the wallets you give me and I put my money only in the slingbag because the wallets are full and I don't know when to bring it up to you that I have money saved for you to use? That I told you "thank you" every time you gave me something but I was so hesitant to receive it every time because, why would you spend money on someone like me?

Have you noticed how I was so confused on my 18th birthday when my Grandfather said "We wish to be like her (me)" because I genuinely didn't know and still don't know what you guys see from me? What do you see? What part of me seems like I could be a good role model?

Have you seen the way I comfort other people? How I can't last any second seeing someone sad, hence why I can't take jokes easily because I worry that they're genuinely sad or in need of help? That I'm open-minded and understanding to a lot of things because my family members weren't? Because I grew up reading and being alone even with a barrage of people surrounding me as friends in grade school, I couldn't recall anything about myself from then unless told about?

How I thought about my undiagnosed depression, anxiety, and other things I still refuse to mention in fear that I might be making all of this up? How in 9th grade I walked around the science laboratory room banging my head on the wall and ending up curled up under the main desk trying to silence myself while 3 other classmates were there, who then proceeded to call my best friend for help? How the 9th to 11th grades were me in my deepest eras that I couldn't walk at school for hours and days and how Jillian had to help me walk around to get used to it before I got to go home and act like it never happened?

Have you seen how I keep sleeping on days I get silent? Because though sleep is hard for me, I force myself to sleep and hate myself through my thoughts for more reason to avoid being awake and drift into a space where I can't recall what happened when I wake up?

How I keep typing all of these, over and over and over again, yet I could never get over the past? How all of these are things that happened before that I drag on until today because I couldn't see them leave my life at all?

How these keep piling up and crawl up my back like the simplest air dust speck flowing through the wind to bother me? But I act like it's not there and keep living on my days?

It's... a lot. And if you reached this point, I'm sorry that you did.

It's a whole lot-

Why are you reading this

I should be studying for my 2020-2021 2nd semester midterms... I really should... but I want to sleep... I probably will... Maybe...

'Till then. This is log 000-21-03-21

I know there's a lot more I wish to add, but for now. This is it.

#jays brain journal

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rositaspigtail · 6 years ago

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Don’t talk about it

Sometimes a Tumblr post hits you where it hurts most. So I’m going to share, and hope no one ignores it because it’s pretty important.

I’m pregnant with my first child. I’m so nervous, scared even. I browse forums for advice. People say parenting is the hardest job in the world. They say ‘it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but the reward is so worth it’. But they don’t actually discuss individual challenges, it’s all kept to vague, trite sentences repeated verbatim. I’m scared. What if I’m not a good mum? What if the first thing I do is drop the baby on it’s head? But all the other expectant mums just talk about their excitement and how they can’t wait to meet their little bundle so I don’t talk about it. I’m the odd one out.

Everyone talks about how you get a rush of overwhelming pure love the moment you first hold your baby. No one says they didn’t feel this. No one talks about what it could mean if you don’t feel this. I’m expecting it, but when the midwives put my new baby in my arms I just feel... tired. No rush, no surge of emotion. Just a detached observation that his face looks weird and squashy. Within minutes of his birth I’m thinking ‘Am I a bad mother?’ But I don’t talk about it, because I can’t let anyone KNOW that I’m weird.

This boy doesn’t sleep. He screams for hours through the night. His daddy is asleep upstairs because he has to go to work in the morning so it’s just me and the sound of screaming bouncing off the walls at 3am and I’m exhausted and I’ve tried EVERYTHING and nothing works, he just cries and cries and cries and in the end I’m crying too because I’m so tired and I don’t know what to do. But I don’t go into detail with anyone, I just say ‘he just doesn’t sleep’ because everyone knows babies keep you up at night. I get about two hours sleep a night for over a year and I can’t function properly. I just drag myself through each day feeding, changing nappies and all the rest in a numb haze. But this is normal right? Everyone else manages, why am I so useless? Just a bad mother.

Breastfeeding hurts. Every time I feed him it feels like my nipples are being put through a shredder. My whole body clenches every time I feed him. I mention this to both my mother and mother-in-law. They both say ‘it’s normal for it to hurt a bit at the start’ so I don’t talk about it any more. I shut up and clench my teeth and get on with it and dread the next time he’s hungry. His weight drops even though he feeds so often I can’t bear it. It’s the most natural thing in the world and I can’t even do that right. Bad mother.

Having my second child is an eye opener. I’m still the same person, but this is a different baby entirely. In the night when she wakes I feed her, put her back down and go back to sleep. A totally different experience and I have no idea why one child would scream so much when the other goes back to sleep like a dream. Even though she wakes me several times a night, I’m not tired, I can function. The local breastfeeding counsellors have finally had the training and when I go to them and say ‘it’s hurting’ they say ‘that’s not normal, it shouldn’t hurt’ and help me correct the way she’s latching on. It’s the same way her older brother latched on as a baby, and if I’d had the same help back then feeding him wouldn’t have been so miserable and he wouldn’t have been hungry all the time.

Everyone says parenting is hard, but they never share their frustrations and struggles. They just post instagram shots of their adorable kids and gush about how much they love their kids and their lives wouldn’t be the same without them. I look at these other parents who have it all together and wonder why am I like this? Why can’t I manage when everyone else copes just fine? There are days when my brain starts telling me that I should walk out, leave the children behind because they’d be better off without me. But I can’t bear the thought of never seeing them again and I stay and I hate myself for it because how selfish can I be. Bad mother, weak and useless.

He’s six years old when I sign up for a parenting course because I still feel like the worst parent ever and why can everyone else do it but I can’t? And sometime in that course I mention that I never really felt that I bonded with him. You don’t say that (bad, BAD mother) but the group leader pricks up her ears and asks me a couple of questions and then says ‘That’s post-natal depression’ and now it makes sense and if I’d only been able to talk about it sooner I would have been able to get help. But I didn’t because everyone knows parenting is hard and if you can’t handle it why did you have kids in the first place?

I go on anti-depressants and it takes time but it helps eventually. There are still struggles and I still don’t feel that I can be open about it because I have a diagnosed mental illness and if I share maybe they’ll report me to social services and maybe I’ll lose my kids and I can’t have that so I still tend to hold back. But now I’m starting to see people sharing more about their everyday struggles. The times morning just go so damn wrong and they end up getting the kids to school late, women making funny videos about the challenges of parenting and I feel less alone, I feel more normal. I realise that, actually, I’m doing about as well as anyone else.

And now here I am scrolling through my dash on Tumblr and I see a post ‘I wish parents would stop talking about how hard it is. Everyone knows parenting is hard if you can’t handle it why did you have kids in the first place?’ ‘parents should love their kids unconditionally’. And it throws me right back. I feel that damned heavy weight in my chest again and that little whisper in my head pops right back up: bad mother, bad mother, selfish, useless, weak pathetic. I scroll past but now it’s bothered me for two days so I have to let it out and open up.

Everyone knows parenting is hard, but this means that sometimes we need support, a shoulder to lean on. Not talking about it cuts you off from that support, and it makes you feels worse, which makes your parenting abilities suffer so the kids suffer for it too. I’m convinced that my son had some kind of physical issue going on as a baby but I will never know what it was because ‘babies cry, babies wake at night it’s normal’ so I didn’t realise how profoundly NOT NORMAL it was and couldn’t get him any help. So when you don’t share those experiences and gain insight from the experiences of other parents, the children suffer for it.

As for unconditional love. Struggling doesn’t mean you don’t love your children. There were so many days (more than I can count) when I would be in the kitchen cooking or cleaning up and I’d find myself holding one of our sharp knives just ready to end it all and find some peace. An end to all the pain and doubt and self loathing I felt. Every time I’d end up putting the knife away because ‘who will look after the children?’ I only stayed for them, and if that’s not unconditional love I don’t know what is. So fuck anyone who says parents shouldn’t talk about how hard it is. We absolutely should. We should share and support each other and seek help when we need it because that’s how we resolve our problems and become better parents.

#parenthood #family life #personal #tw depression #tw suicide

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lolainblue · 7 years ago

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Thunderbirds -- Chapter 41

Jared's POV:

Without a word Roger pulled me into his bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind us and turning the lock. Like the rest of the apartment it was decorated in tones of charcoal and slate with wood accents, understated and urban, and although it didn't seem much like Jane, it did seem to suit Roger quite well. “I like your place,” I told him. “Did you guys hire a decorator or did you do it yourself?”

“I mostly did it myself,” Roger confirmed. “In bits and pieces over time but I'm pretty happy with where I've gotten it right now. I've always had an eye, it just took a while before I had the money to do things the way I wanted to.”

“I guess that's not an issue now,” I pointed out. “You've really done well for yourself. Your career, I mean. I'm kind of surprised you and Jane still live together, actually. I know it's none of my business but by my estimation, either one of you could easily afford your own place, even in Manhattan”

A lot had changed since the first time I met Roger and Jane, not just their financial circumstances. I had been a little taken with him right from the start, he was witty and fun, bright and sharp, and if I hadn't already been knee deep in the first Jane mess then things might have gone a little differently. We were very different people now than when we had started but I had enjoyed reconnecting with him. When he called to check up on Jane after the whole Angus gossip debacle, we found ourselves talking again and things just clicked. We had a lot of similarities, Roger and I, and we got each other in a way that I don't think a lot of other people did. When he told me about his breakup with Daphne and I invited him to come hang out for a while and get his mind off things, I swear I didn't have any ulterior motives. Things just happened. But watching Roger jump the rails like a speeding commuter train reminded me how fast my train was going too, and how quickly it could all fall apart.

Roger considered my statement then shrugged. “I don't think we ever really even considered being apart. We've been together so long. We don't get to see each other much when we're working though – I travel a lot and when she's promoting her work she does too.” He gave me a wry smile, that sharpness of his seemingly directed inwards today. “A therapist would probably tell you we're co-dependent. Plus I'm pretty sure I'm depressed and I have abandonment and daddy issues. But hey, who's keeping track?”

He sat down on the bed and I joined him, thinking about the assortment of “daddy issues” I had collected myself over time. “I have the “out the door before I was even born” variety,” I confessed. “What kind do you have?”

“The “beat the insolent, blasphemous queer out of him with a two-inch barber strop” kind,” Roger said matter-of-factly before breaking into a dangerous grin. “Didn't work.”

“Fuck, I'm sorry.” I wondered if I should tell him about my experiences with my stepfather, but there was something in his demeanor today that told me he probably didn't want to commiserate. It had only been two weeks since I had seen him last, but he looked thinner and paler and tired, and I was reminded of Jane's misgivings moments before. I wanted to ask if he was okay, but it was a stupid question. He obviously wasn't okay, I just didn't know what to say. Everything felt awkward, like visiting the bedside of a friend who had just been diagnosed with cancer. You wanted to help, you wanted to reassure them, but you didn't quite know how, and in the back of your mind you're just busy being grateful it's not you. I decided to just keep feeling my way forward. “That must have been a hell of a way to grow up.”

“Wouldn't be so bad if the rest of the lot of them weren't completely brainwashed by that so-called church of theirs. I'm the youngest you know, I have four brothers and three sisters. None of them speak to me.”

This was more about Roger and his life than he had shared in all of the time we had spent together. I hadn't known he had any siblings at all, let alone seven of them. It hurt to know that it took him coming apart to trust me with something so mundane. It hurt even more to know that it would take something similar for me to be this honest. At least I could sit here and listen. He seemed to need that right now. “Again man, I'm sorry. That's pretty fucked up...”

“It isn't even because of that church though. Not really,” he continued, picking at the bedspread underneath him while he avoided my eyes. “I mean they're pretty full of poisonous ideas about a lot of bullshit, don't get me wrong. But see, my unforgivable sin was rocking the boat. I didn't do enough to cover for my father when people questioned what was happening. Not that I actually told on him, or that he got into any trouble over it. The congregation is good at circling their wagons if nothing else. But he was inconvenienced, and you know, we can't inconvenience John Harrington.” He gave a small laugh. “Or maybe it is their church after all. Honor thy father and mother. No matter what they do or if they deserve it.”

“Fuck your old man,” I told him. “Pretty sure you're better off.”

“Yeah, so am I. But I'm not going to pretend like it doesn't hurt to lose the rest of them too. You know my mother died, a few weeks ago. My sister Marsha called to tell me about it the night before the funeral, just to make sure I knew I shouldn't come home. I'm not welcome.” Whatever little bit of stoicism he had been trying to hold on to melted away and his voice started to break. “She was my mother. I thought that meant something. I didn't even know she was sick. I didn't get to say goodbye. I didn't even...”

“What would you have said to her?” I asked him. I couldn't wrap my head around where he was right now. If I had been raised by those people, if I had been treated like that, I don't think I would have given a shit if any of them died. Obviously, though, he still carried a lot of hurt from it all. I thought maybe saying out loud what he would have said to her might help. I hated to see him floundering like this.

Roger swallowed deeply and gave his head a little shake. “I don't know. Part of me wants her to hug me and tell me she still loved me, in spite of everything. Part of me wants to scream at her and ask her why she never stood up for me. Either way...” He swallowed again, and quickly wiped his cheek. “It doesn't matter. She never took me back, she threw me away and I'm never going to get that answer now.”

I probably shouldn't have done it, Roger had made it very clear he was through with me when we parted in Wisconsin, but I leaned over and slipped my arms around him, pulling him up against me. “You are not some thing to just be discarded, Rog. You are amazing. I am so sorry they don't see that but that's on them not you.” He was shaking and I think fighting back tears, and I gave him a little kiss on the side of his face, right by his ear. I meant it to be reassuring. He didn't take it that way.

Roger pulled away from me and sat up with a defeated sigh. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.” His face had gone slack and his glassy eyes avoided my gaze. “Like it even fucking matters anymore. I guess we're just back to finding something to fill the ache.” He pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it across the room. “Do or don't, it's not like it changes anything, so what the hell. I mean you did come all this way.”

“What? No, that's not what I fucking meant. That's not even why I'm here.” I was horrified by the casual, detached way he seemed to be offering his body up to me. I got up and picked up his shirt, and as I handed it back to him I noticed how marked up his chest and back were. I don't think I was the only one he had made this offer to recently. “What's happening to you, Roger?” I didn't know what to say, I knew I was drawing a lot of conclusions but I had seen a few people hit rock bottom before and if Roger wasn't there already he was dangerously close. I reached forward before I realized what I was doing, my fingers tracing over a bite mark on his shoulder. He immediately jerked back away from me.

“Fuck you, what did Jane fucking say to you?” Roger snapped, his mood swinging around in an instant. He hastily pulled his shirt back on. “It's not like she thinks. She's such a fucking idealist. She doesn't get what it's like for the rest of us...”

“Okay stop. Please. Jane didn't say anything to me. I honestly just came down here to apologize to you. I was an asshole when you left that morning and I'm really sorry about it. I just wanted to make sure we're good.”

“Yeah sure, we're fine,” Roger mumbled. “Sorry to interrupt your plans. Feel better about yourself yet?”

I wanted to snap. He was being impossible, opening up and shutting down again so fast I couldn't hope to keep up. I fought back the urge to storm out. “Not really. But that's not why I'm here. I mean it, Roger. I'm sorry for the way I acted when you left. I like you a lot. I'd like it if we were friends. I can find a piece of ass anywhere. Friends are a little harder.”

“A spectacular piece of ass,” Roger protested with just a hint of a smile.

I laughed. “Yeah, okay, a spectacular piece of ass. But I think maybe a good friend. I could really use one of those right now. It looks like maybe you could too.”

“Maybe.”

“I'm trying to be less of a self-involved prick. Granted, it's not going very well...” I confessed with a shrug. “I am who I am. But I'm trying.”

“You're not that self-involved,” he conceded. “As a matter of fact, you've mostly been really kind when I've been around. You're just focused and I think you forget other people more than you mean to. It's still kind of shitty but it's fixable and you're a good person underneath it all.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“Sure. Don't mention it.” He sighed and leaned back on the bed. “Are you sure she didn't say anything to you? Jane, I mean.”

I shook my head. “She said it wasn't a good time when I told her I wanted to talk to you. That's all. I know this is a stupid question, but I don't know how else to ask. Are you okay? I mean, is there anything you want to talk about? Can I help somehow?”

“I don't know. I'm trying to sort it all out. Jane's all wrapped up in Shannon and I'm pretty sure that's not a good thing but she's not listening to me so there's nothing I can do there.”

I tried to keep my face neutral. Roger didn't know the half of it. Shannon was my brother and knew I had to have his back but I was certain Jane would not have been cool with the way he had behaving on tour without her if she knew. I had considered spilling the beans when I had spoken to her on the phone. I had thought about maybe just leaving hints. I was thinking about it now, but it wasn't my secret to tell. I had warned Shannon, however, that if he fucked this up Jane was, in my opinion, fair game. I had only ever agreed to back off from her in the beginning. Recent misjudgments aside, Jane had only improved with age in my opinion. I didn't hold out a lot of hope, once she had finally seen Shannon it seemed that she only ever had eyes for him. But I could see the way things were going, with or without my interference. Time would tell how it all played out.

“She has made the plans and I have followed for most of our lives,” Roger went on. “Which is fine but, again, she's all wrapped up in Shannon and I don't think she knows where she's going anymore.”

“So make your own plans,” I suggested. “There must be something you want to do.”

Roger smiled. “Co-dependent, remember? But I have been branching out.”

He just continued to sit there with that wry smile on his face. “Are you going to tell me into what or do I have to guess the password or something?”

“I'm kind of embarrassed, actually. Especially since it's you. When I was a kid, I wanted to be an actor. I was in a few school plays but I was really awful at it. I mean really, truly awful,” he confessed. “But Daphne was hounding me about branching out. She really was just fame chasing and thought I could be her ticket, she thought I could get into acting, and as far as she was concerned that was better than just being a model. I tried to tell her how bad at it I was but she just kept hounding me, so eventually I agreed to take lessons. I'm finding out I actually like it, and I'm not as awful as I thought, I was just clueless. I've really been putting a lot of work into but I think it's paying off.”

“You know, that's always been my plan. I just throw myself really hard at things. If you like it and you're willing to work for it I absolutely think you can do it.”

Roger laughed. “Okay, let's not pretend like you aren't gifted as hell. I believe you work for it but we are not exactly starting from the same place.”

“You have no idea where I started from,” I told him. It didn't feel like the right time now but I promised myself soon I would sit down with him and tell him about my early days in L.A. “But you're right, it wasn't the same place. You have a lot more resources now than I had then. It's going to play out differently than it did for me. Is the class going well?”

Roger blushed. It seemed strange on him. “Well, I was in this play this spring. The play was terrible but I got some good mentions in reviews. But...” He took a deep breath. “Turns out I had a flair for something I would never have suspected. I'm going to be doing Shakespeare. It's a fall festival and then some traveling. The director I'm working with is grooming me to come back and do Shakespeare in the park for the season next summer...”

“Seriously? That's amazing! That's a huge deal!” I was really impressed. For someone with Roger's experience level to be getting this kind of an opportunity, he had to be good. “Don't even try to tell me you aren't talented. This wouldn't be happening if you weren't.”

Roger shrugged but I could the smile on his face. This meant a lot to him, and he was proud of it. Probably more so since it was a childhood dream he never thought he was going to be able to chase. “Why hasn't Jane mentioned it?” I asked suspiciously.

“She doesn't know yet. It's going to be a lot of work and travel and I probably won't see her much this year. With everything she's been through, I feel like I'm abandoning her. I'm thinking of turning them down.”

“Don't you fucking dare. She would not want that."

“She'd give me her oxygen tank if she was drowning. Doesn't mean I should take it.”

“Look, I know it's not any of my business, but we're having this discussion so you're getting my opinion anyway. You need to do this. You two need to cut the cord a little bit. You're both a lot stronger than you think you are but you're never going to know it if you don't try to stand up on your own. This is your dream. Chase it. I bet you'll be amazing.” Roger shrugged. “What play? What part?” I asked.

“Of all the parts in all the plays, which one would you cast me in?”

I thought about it for a minute. I wasn't a huge Shakespeare fan, but as my mind wandered back to high school English classes one part did indeed stand out. “Puck.” I ventured.

Roger laughed and smiled. “Give the man a prize. Midsummer Nights Dream it is.”

I laughed back, enjoying seeing him smile. “You are going to be perfect. Send me dates and locations and I'll try to make a show.”

“I will.” He nodded but then the smile started to fade and his face started to darken again. “I'm afraid though. Things have gone really well for me so far. Better than they should have. It feels a little cliché, the model/actor thing, and it feels a little greedy to chase something else. Like I'm just tempting fate.”

This was one area I was very familiar with. “Look. Not everyone fits in one box. You can't let your expectations be shaped by what everyone else thinks you should be doing. You especially can't let fear of failure stop you from chasing something you want. Besides, failure is a great teacher. You learn as much from failing as you do from succeeding. Probably more." He looked so uncertain, and I knew that confidence that he normally seemed to be brimming with was in short supply. Now was the time he was going to need it. I wanted to hug him again but I didn't want him to get the wrong idea. “I think this is exactly what you need right now. A sense of direction and purpose, and one that wasn't assigned to you by Jane.”

“I don't want her to think I'm abandoning her.”

“She won't. She's going to be proud of you and excited for you. You'll see.”

He let out a breath he had been holding. “Thanks. For listening to all this. For being a friend.” Roger leaned forward and hugged me this time, and I pulled him in as tightly as I could. I felt better about things than when I had walked in there but I wasn't put off by the slight uptick in his mood. I was still very worried.

When he let me go I tried to measure where we were at. I knew Shannon would be ready to hit the road soon, but I wasn't ready to leave Roger just yet. I forged ahead one more time. “Can I ask you some things?” I ventured.

Roger sighed in obvious anticipation of where this was going. “Go ahead,” he replied.

“Are you okay? I mean I know you're going through some things right now, but are you safe? Can you be left alone? Are you going to do anything stupid?”

“I'm not going to off myself if that's what you're asking," he replied gruffly.

“No, that's not what I asked. There are a lot of dumbass, self-destructive, bad decisions you can make short of that. You're hurt and you're angry and you're turning it in on yourself and I'm really fucking worried.”

“She did say something.”

“No, Roger, Jane did not tell me shit. Why? What is there to tell? What did you do?”

Roger closed his eyes and exhaled shakily. “Something I won't do again. I promise.”

“Until the next time temptation comes along?” Roger didn't reply. He obviously wasn't going to tell me what happened. From the way he had reacted, I figured it had to do with those marks on his skin. “Okay, make a deal with me. Promise me that you will stay safe, that you won't do anything stupid, and that if you think you're going to you will call me. Day or night, it doesn't matter. I want you to call me. And I want you to promise to see someone.”

Roger huffed and shook his head. “Like a therapist?”

“Yes, like a therapist. Jesus, you said it yourself, you're probably depressed, you're in a bad place. You need to talk to someone. A professional. Promise me.”

He was quiet, and I watched him turning everything over in his head. “Fine,” he finally conceded. “I'll call around on Monday.”

“Thank you.” I gave him another hug, now that he had given me one and I knew it would be okay.

“You're a good friend you know.”

“And a spectacular lay,” I added with a laugh as I tilted my head and bit my bottom lip. Roger broke into laughter again.

“Spectacular asshole is more like it,” he said as he gave me a gentle shove.

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