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theroyalmile · 4 years ago

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No Returns, No Exchanges

Disclaimer: I have debated for quite a while whether or not I should post this blog. Social media is such a curated space for joy and happiness, it can feel oppressive at times. There is so much life-changing positivity, from engagements to new jobs; and don’t get me wrong, that happiness is great to see. But on the other hand, all of that positivity makes me feel like sharing any kind of negative information is attention-seeking and an immense overshare. So let’s ask ourselves why I feel that way. Why is happiness celebrated while the sad, sometimes harsh realities of life are thought to be oversharing? More specifically, why do we feel like life-changing news can only be shared when it doesn’t make other people uncomfortable? Our expressions of pain should not be regulated by the comfort levels of the people who surround us. There comes a time when not sharing something begins to feel like hiding something, and hiding something turns to shame. That is a feeling that I refuse to welcome into my life right now. So here we go.

It has been a while since I posted anything… a really long while. It has been rare, these past few years, that I have even felt I had anything much to say let alone write anything, mostly because my life has been fairly normal, fairly unextraordinary, and I am rather blessed to be saying that during such a difficult time for so many. The few moments where I have felt like I had something to say have been fleeting, and after a good 2am word vomit on paper, I have filed these musings under “not to be seen by the light of day” which is probably for the best.

Sometimes in the past I would find myself wishing I had something interesting going on in my life, something worthy of commentary… I don’t know, I was thinking like a cool hobby, an interesting skill, a kick-ass career, or a run in with Tom Hardy like I’d always dreamed of… something.

Well, to whoever is in charge, this is not what I meant, and I would like to request a refund.

Because as its final parting kick in the ass 2020 decided to gift me with breast cancer. This isn’t a bad punch line, it’s just the truth.Let me give you a second to process that one. I certainly needed a few.

The thing is, a little itty bitty 3-centimeter tumor- that’s not something I can give back, as much as I might want to. It’s not a too-large sweater you can return with a gift receipt, and it’s not a bad haircut you can complain about and get your money back (though it certainly will include one in a week or so!)

A lot of you already know this story and frankly it’s not one I can tell with much finesse or humor, so I will keep it brief. It was a dark and stormy 6pm when I found a lump in my breast in the shower back in November. My initial thought was “you’re a crazy lady and a hypochondriac, let’s give it a few weeks since this is probably nothing.” A few weeks, when my imaginary lump seemed to not actually be imaginary, I figured okay, it’s time to see my doctor, it’s probably nothing but we need to make sure. I was in fact so unconcerned about it that I didn’t even see my regular doctor. I figured I just needed a medical professional to feel me up and let me know what to do next. I didn’t even bother mentioning it to my parents. (For context of my laissez-faire, when I was 14 I found a lump in my breast that turned out, after little fanfare, to be a cyst which was unceremoniously drained on a cold metal table by a male doctor in a somewhat traumatizing but ultimately benign event. That’s a longer story for later).

Cue a physical exam, confirming I was not crazy and there was a lump, but it was probably nothing; an utltrasound, confirming the lump was a shape that they did not like, but it was probably nothing; and an ultrasound guided biopsy, in which the probably nothing was sampled. The week between Christmas and New Year’s was spent impatiently waiting for the news, increasingly feeling that my probably nothing was maybe, actually something.

On December 28 around lunch time I received a phone call in the middle of the work day from the radiologist, who while very nice, was someone I had only met once while she shot a needle in and out of my boob. She asked me how I was doing and then told me my test results were in. “I’m sorry to say it’s not good news,” she said.

And believe it or fucking not my immediate thought was “It’s not good news… it’s great news!” My brain supplied this as if on autopilot like some kind of 90s game show host, knowing fully well that I would not be so lucky because we are not living in a Brooklyn 99 episode. It’s weird where your brain goes under duress.

It was one of the most uncomfortable phone calls I have ever had, wherein I found myself trying to reassure a complete stranger that I was okay and I’m pretty sure I even said, “it is what it is.” I was told a breast surgeon and oncologist from my provider network would be in contact and the call ended. Ultimately, I was diagnosed with Stage 1B Triple Negative Invasive Ductal and Lobular Carcinoma. No returns, no exchanges.

I am two months into my diagnosis, and 1/8 of my way through chemotherapy, the first part of a three series treatment (to be followed by surgery and then likely radiation.) This Friday, after my second chemotherapy treatment, I will begin to lose my hair. Anyone who knows me at all knows that the hair loss will be a pill likely far harder for me to swallow than the chemo itself. And while the look may have worked for Demi Moore in GI Jane, I do not have her bone structure, nor her body. I anticipate I will look more like the yellow peanut M&M, which while obviously the best M&M of the bunch, I think we can all agree is not a cute look for me.

I do not say this to be melodramatic, I just say this because I am cynical and pragmatic by nature: I am not particularly surprised that I have cancer. And this is for several reasons, some of which probably deserve a longer blog later. To put it simply, I have been surrounded by cancer, both by choice and by cruel fate and happenstance, my entire life.

Cruel Fate and Happenstance: Having several relatives who have gone through cancer, and a mother with a BRCA 1 genetic mutation (which I had a 50% chance of inheriting, and in fact did) I always figured it would eventually happen to me. The odds this condition dealt me? “About 13% of women in the general population will develop breast cancer sometime during their lives. By contrast, 55%–72% of women who inherit a harmful BRCA1 variant… will develop breast cancer by 70–80 years of age.” That 55-72% is the kind of percentage you want winning the lottery, but the lottery this most certainly is not, and that much I understood. So, I always figured something like this would probably happen. Did I think I would be 28? No. But I figure that just makes me an overachiever.

Choice: I volunteered at a cancer support non-profit from the time I was 12 to the time I was 22, and I wrote my college senior thesis in anthropology on women with ovarian cancer, the cancer that killed my aunt Lizzy when I was 4 years old. I have likely read more books on cancer than your average newly diagnosed person, which I find to be both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, I know some of what’s coming. On the other hand, I know some of what’s coming. Of course I don’t think any of these things gave me cancer but you might say I have been training for this my whole life. I think this joke is far funnier than pretty much everyone I say it to except my immediate family, because the Tenney/Koss folk are very big on gallows humor, in which case this is hilarious. Comedy is our family coping mechanism, and I am guilty of occasionally forgetting not everyone is wired like that.

So where are we right now? Taking it day by day. Do I frequently find myself wallowing in self-pity these days? Sure. But all the same I feel truly lucky. This is a feeling I am trying to hold on to, because I think the other options might be truly unbearable. Why? Well, I found this tumor. I’m 28-years-old, which means I am hardly old enough for a regular mammogram and MRI. My last yearly physical was a TeleHealth appointment (hence no actual physical) and I will be honest, I never made a habit of regularly checking myself like I should have. But this tumor just presented itself casually during a shower. Breast cancer, when caught early, is highly treatable and curable, and I am fairly confident, knock on wood, that is where this particular nightmare is headed. The fact that it was caught early: pure luck.

Another reason I feel lucky is for the most part, I feel like I actually have the stability to handle the oncoming struggle. I have a large and wonderful support system, an incredible and supportive partner, a savings account with actual savings in it, and a job where I am cared about as a human. If this had happened to me three years ago, almost none of these things would be true. There will never be a good time to have cancer, but some times are apparently better than others. Of course, the ongoing pandemic means I can’t have people go with me to chemo, or my wig fitting, or my surgery consultations, and alone a lot of this seems much more daunting and difficult than it might otherwise have been, but I am trying to make a habit of counting my blessings, and despite this terrible thing I’ve been given, my blessings are many.

There isn’t a “right way” to have cancer, but I think there might be a “right way” for me. I am a private person and I find sharing some of these details difficult and more than a little uncomfortable, but I am also intimately familiar with the healing nature of writing and comedy, so I am going to give it a shot.

And now that I think of it… the peanut M&M is going to make a really great Halloween costume.

#cancer #breast cancer #personal #newly diagnosed

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khangowrites · 4 years ago

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Is it a Complaint Essay or is the Workplace Unsuitable?

Ah, what am I writing today? Oh, well I suppose it’s almost 12am. Seems like a good a time as any. I wanted to just jot down a few re-occurring experiences I’ve had in the workplace and sometimes in other social spaces, and attempt to analyze them.

CW: mild mentions of abuse and bodily ailments.

A bit of forward: I tend to mask myself heavily whenever I am in any social situation; whether it be at work, at home, with friends or online (although I’m getting better at being myself on Discord at least. I owe a lot to my friends who accept me and whom I care so much about.) What this means is I often plan out what I’m needed to say in advance of a situation. I have an arsenal of about 5 minutes of small talk before I tank and several small greetings/placations I can cycle through on any given day if I’m not overloaded. I also limit my natural inclination to movement.

It’s called unprofessional/unsightly to sit with your legs folded under you, or to sway and shake your arms and legs back and forth in time to music in your head. But it’s okay if you tap your pencil. Everyone does that.

I have to wonder how noticeable my ‘masked’ self is. How real or fake it appears.

There have been a few trends I’ve seen with the way people treat me as an employee in the time I’ve been in the workforce. For clarity, I am a 23 year old 5’1” AFAB person with a face that looks like it stopped aging when I was 12. I’m non-binary, but I’ve seen that many have a hard time using a different pronoun for me because I look ‘so feminine’. I had one old man repeatedly tell me that my body was too pretty and that I shouldn’t hide it and ‘pretend’ to be something else. I was and still am quite unsettled and disgusted by that comment.

I haven’t used my full preferred pronouns at work simply based in fear of being fired or discriminated against further. Same thing at home- I haven’t told all my family out of fear. I may look back on this at some future date where I fully respect myself and I’m confident. I look forward to that day.

Oh, and I’m autistic.

Perhaps it is one of these things or all of them that cause people to treat me certain ways. I’d like to find out.

I worked outdoors at an Orchard for a season. They called me Cinderella because of the way I looked when I cleaned. They gave employees gloves and heaters. Only not me. When I asked, I was given a broken one and told to fix it. A coworker who had intellectual disabilities and poor eyesight was not offered a heater at all. I did not renew for the next season. Kim and I stayed in touch though.

I worked next at a gift shop at a historical site. I loved the history and the old buildings, but the cashier work was admittedly difficult. Most of the employees were kind, retired old ladies who treated me gently, like a child. Sometimes too much like a child. The assistant manager seemed wary of me, and she often avoided me. I don’t know why. I’m not good with eye contact, and I always fear that people will mistake my zoning out as being creepy or disrespectful; maybe it was that. She never brought her kids with her on days I worked.

The head manager was courteous, but always called me Special. We had an older man work in the last 2 years I was there who had a strong inclination to associate with the children at the shop, and in turn, me as well. He would always want a hug or pat me on the back, but ignored the other workers. I told the managers my uncomfortable feelings about him, but it went mostly unnoticed.

When it was found that I was decent with computers, I was tasked with entering jewelry into the system and creating labels with number associations. I enjoyed it, and they promised me a decent raise. My pay was raised a dollar several weeks later, and I found myself being tasked with more and more computer work, to the point of becoming an office manager myself, earning a grand total of 9 dollars an hour while my counterpart who started a year earlier owned a home on the same work.

I left that job after 4 years to be the music director at a local church. I love music and was excited. Maybe too excited. I developed acid re-flux and was hospitalized the week before my start day due to a panic attack. I realize now it was from stress. I also had an ovarian cyst removed a year later- it took up my entire pelvis and its formation was also attributed to stress. I’ve since been diagnosed with generalized anxiety, and I continue to have ever changing digestive issues, muscle problems and panic attacks.

After realizing I was autistic and also non-binary, so much of the stress of life started to make sense. The past few months I have been making life changes, and working towards finding a workplace that is accommodating and safe for me. My stress has lessened.

I worked at the church for 2 years. My last day is actually at the end of this month. As is the trend, I was not treated with respect when it came to my job. My pastor started choosing the hymns over me, and would make comments about me during services. His favorite was to say that my music made him fall asleep, and wait for laughter from the congregation. He had no musical knowledge, and forced me to play every song as fast as I possibly could. He didn’t believe I could do my job. Any attempts at mutual work failed to manifest. I unfortunately was groomed by a member of the hiring committee there as well, a type of abuse I didn’t even realize I had fallen into until several months after it was too late.

I currently work at a high school as a choir accompanist. I use she/they pronouns there, but no one uses they and I’m too worried to be fully they like I am outside of work. I am wary of soiling my relationship with the director further. She’s quite religious in the ‘gays don’t have rights’ way, so I have my fears.

The director is kind, but sees me as this innocent child that happens to have natural piano abilities, and the mutual respect that I’ve come to dream of just isn’t there again.

The director has the key to the doors and lets students in without fail, but conveniently forgets to let me in almost every day. At one time, I was in physical therapy and had a hard time standing and walking for any period of time. I almost went home because she didn’t answer any communication, class started 20 minutes previously, and it was 90 degrees outside and I needed to sit down because my legs were cramping. She plans the music weeks in advance, but doesn’t give them to me until the day the students get it, despite my repeated asking for time to prepare.

One day I was on zoom and she and the student teacher greeted me and then ignored my presence and played the piano herself for class. She struggled with the parts and commented to the choir that, “wow, Ms. Khango is actually pretty dang good at this- that little girl can play!”, but didn’t listen to me when I offered to play. I left the zoom after an hour.

The online students seemed to share my surprise at least, and I am grateful to them. They kept me grounded and reminded me that I matter and should have the same respect as everyone else in the room, zoom or not. They talk to me about not being heard and their chats not being read during class. It bothered me, too. The next week I brought it up to her in the form of making sure the zoom students were heard and she quickly dismissed it, like it was a puff of smoke. The students online now ask me questions directly and I relay them. It’s met with annoyance by the director.

They have voices too.

One of the scariest moments of my life was last week- I wore my ‘disability rights are human rights’ shirt to school. (Okay, maybe not scary to some, but it very much was for me.) After class, one of the students came to me and asked if I could help him find a way for his grandfather to get a seat at the concert, as he was disabled and he didn’t know how to proceed.

It filled me with joy to help him, and it filled me with rage when the teachers asked if his grandpa could just get out of the wheelchair instead.

My overall conclusion to all of these things is that people simply don’t understand, or don’t want to because it makes their lives harder.

Is discrimination and ignorance really easier than respecting people?

I’m not sure if this is all just one big complaint essay. I guess it is. What I needed to do was write it all out. All the things that make me uneasy or feel like lesser of a person. And I wanted to know why.

I note that at every job I am perceived as a child, or as someone naïve. I am not treated the same as another adult employee. I was ostracized for my way of moving and talking. Taken advantage of. My needs were not accommodated.

Even now, I feel guilt for writing this, like I’m just playing the victim for attention or something.

I want to be strong enough to stand up to it and ask to be treated with respect and have it follow through.

I want to unmask myself more and let myself move and talk naturally, and use my real pronouns.

My respect for myself and for others must become a powerful force.

My friends on discord- my real, genuine friends, have become monumental in my life. Most of my life I did not have true friends. Without them and their unconditional love and support, I would not be where I am right now. We are all equals. I want to embody that strong respect and bring it to others.

It’s getting late. 1 a.m. now. Well, I have tomorrow. Plenty of time for Star Trek.

#workplace problems #actuallyautistic #essay #nonbinary #figuring out life

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beauty-brains-and-booty · 4 years ago

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I need insight on some female-reproductive health issues I have going on.

First, I’m not asking for any sort of medical advice, simply if other people have had a similar experience or can relate. I have NO idea what’s going on, and my first appointment with my new OBGYN isn’t until the 19th. I just would like some peace of mind in the meantime I guess? Warning: I’m going to get VERY TMI and put things in a timeline.

So, a bit of backstory. I’m 26. I’ve been on birth control for over 10 years now (first the combo pill, but I had to switch due to having certain types of migraines). I’ve now been on Nexplanon (the arm implant) for almost 5 years, and yes I’ve had it replaced after the 3 year mark. Before Nexplanon, I always had heavy periods, they were regular, but rarely any PMS symptoms or cramps or anything like that. After starting Nexplanon, I only had a period about twice a year, and they were always very short and light.

Within the last yearish, I started having periods more frequently as well as PMS symptoms and cramps. They’ve now become more regular. I’ll get a period every 5 weeks now, they’re heavy, and I get terrible PMS and cramps along with them. I’ve also been having light spotting between periods too, usually around the time I’m ovulating. I realize that’s normal. However, things have become very NOT normal lately.

My last period came a week early (the standard 28 days instead of 5 weeks). It started on September 25th and ended after only 4 days and was super light compared to usual (mine usually last 5-7 days). I had one of those weird gut feelings that something wasn’t right. I ended up taking a few pregnancy tests over those days of my period just to be safe. This may seem like overkill to some, but I wanted to be absolutely sure. I took a blue dye stick test. I wasn’t sure if I saw a VERY faint 2nd blue line or it it was just my anxiety. So, I went and got that triple pack of First Response tests (pink dye, digital, and rapid result). All of them over the next few days came back negative. So I just figured everything must be fine

A week ago (1 week after my last period had started), I began having pain in my lower abdomen/pelvic area. It was a dull ache and kind of felt like I had a 10 lb rock sitting inside me. I’ve had that feeling before and it tends to go away, so I just waited it out. But then on Thursday and Friday of this week, the pain got SO much worse. I have a general dull ache in the center/left of my pelvis/lower abdomen as well as on and off sharp pains on the left side around where my ovary should be. I have a LOT of pressure too as well as spotting, on and off nausea, and an on and off low grade fever.

Yesterday (Friday) when I woke up and went to the bathroom and wiped, I had some light yellow/green discharge and a bit of pink spotting. That was the only time I’ve had that discharge. I went to urgent care, they tested me for a UTI that came back negative and said to follow up with my OBGYN and go to the ER if the pain got worse, as they were limited in what they could do for OBGYN issues. Later in the day, I started having a bit more spotting that was dark chocolate brown (sorry to make that comparison but that’s exactly what it looked like. I checked my period calendar, and based on a 28 day cycle (which my body recently decided it was going to start), this was the day I was supposed to release an egg during ovulation. I chalked it up to maybe I’m just dealing with that weird syndrome where you have spotting and some pain during ovulation.

Today (Saturday), I woke up and felt okay at first. But then as I got up and started moving around, the pain and pressure came back and it’s SO bad. It’s radiating to my lower back, hurts to move, the spotting is more to where I have to wear a pad now and is more red than brown. I’m SO bloated (which I always am to some degree, but moreso now). A few hours ago, I started getting what sort of felt like a cross between menstrual cramps and diarrhea cramps. It came in a huge wave and I immediately went to the bathroom and pooped (important because I haven’t been able to do that in days because of the pain and pressure). Felt a bit better understandably, but I’m still having more menstrual-like cramp pain in addition to the sharp pain on my left side that’s now pretty constant instead of occasional. I still feel like I have to poop, and it feels like I have an inflated water balloon on my left lower abdomen. I feel like whatever is going on down there, there’s just so much pressure that it’s pressing on my bowels and making me feel like I need to go to the bathroom when I just can’t.

I did take another pregnancy test earlier. My reasoning was if it for some reason came back positive, I might be dealing with an ectopic pregnancy. It was negative though.So now I’m stuck here wondering what stage of medical issue am I at: 1) Is my period just fucked up due to something undiagnosed like cysts or endo? 2) DO I have a cyst and that’s what’s giving me these problems? 3) (the least likely but still on my worry list) WAS I somehow pregnant and the tests came back negative because I’m going through a miscarriage now?

I don’t want to go to the ER unless I feel it’s absolutely necessary. I’ve already been twice this year for other unrelated things and know how they can be about women’s reproductive health. I’m terrified of going and them just telling me it’s IBS and an irregular period and to follow up with my OBGYN. But at the same time, I’m not sure I can wait another week and a half if this issue doesn’t start to get better. Urgent care can’t do anything. I can’t get into Planned Parenthood until AFTER my OBGYN appt is scheduled for. I may not be able to get into my primary doctor either. So I’m stuck.

Has anyone else had similar issues? What ended up being the cause? Did anything help? Currently, OTC pain meds don’t really help and I’m just in bed and only moving when I have to. I know no one can tell me with certainty what I’m dealing with, I just hate feeling confused and alone and in pain not knowing what the issue is. Thank in advance for any insight or advice or kind words.

#personal #period #periods #menstrualhealth #menstration #women #woman #womens health #women health #female health #pcos #endometriosis #endo

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xtolovers · 4 years ago

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The Best of Us

The Last of Us Joel/OC Rating:M

AO3

Joel and Ellie nearly die on their way back to Jackson, Wyoming. Traumatized, tired and with a tentative new bond between them, they move forward into a new, very different life. Luckily there are new friends to be found that are not easily deterred by their wounds and flaws. And there is a woman who likes to laugh, to get into other people’s business and help and heal were she can. Maybe she can help heal their bond. Maybe she can move more. It has been long since either of them had a home.

Diligently she blocked the doors by hooking a chair through the handles. Liv tied Apollo up in the entryway where he couldn't make as big of a mess. The added benefit was that he'd hear anyone approaching outside and warn her, and this way he was close enough to the door should they need to make a hasty escape. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. It was unlikely that something was going to happen, but they were in a pretty exposed position, and she the only healthy person. It made her feel uneasy.

No helping it. Gotta get us through this. You got this.

And she really wasn't alone . Liv knew that most of Tommy's skills, he'd learned from Joel. As long as she could keep him conscious, he'd be able to fend off attackers. She wasn't really worried that he was going to attack her himself— she was his only chance of saving the girl, and getting them to Tommy. Besides, while she wasn't the best fighter in Jackson, she could handle herself. Maybe she couldn't win against him in his prime, but he was weak, tired, starving, and his ankle was cut open pretty badly. She'd be able to take him, if necessary.

Joel was still working on the first sandwich when she returned to him, and Liv was pleased to see he'd listened to her.

"How are you feeling?", she asked as she handed him Jesse's bedroll and blanket. He cleared his throat, trying to get his voice back.

"Better."

Not a man of many words, huh.

" That's what I like to hear." She grabbed two cups from the bar, filled them with hot water and put some mint in. She was glad she'd taken her stash of herbs with her. Sure, it was the beginning of May, and if it came down to it, she'd be able to find most she'd need outside, but she had learned the hard way that it was better to be prepared. "Here. Drink that; it'll help settle your stomach."

"Thank you." He accepted the cup before he looked at the girl, brow furrowed. " How's it looking? And no sugarcoating, please."

Liv followed his gaze and ran her hands through her hair with a sigh, tightening her ponytail.

"Well, there is no pus visible on the outside, which means at least outwardly, it's healing well. But you see that swelling around it? Means it's infected and filled inside. Not uncommon if there's dirt in the wound."

"I tried cleanin' it with our last water, but it kept raining." Joel's voice was raspy, but no longer from disuse. The guilt was plain on his face.

Liv shook her head slowly, her voice sympathetic. "Not much you could've done about it given the circumstances. Honestly, considering, this really is the best case scenario," she sighed and rolled up her sleeves. "I'll still have to cut it open to get the pus out and clean it, otherwise she might get really sick. But once it's clean, I've got iodine here and we have some antibiotics back in Jackson… I won't make promises, but I think she'll be fine."

"Can I help?"

Liv shook her head with a smile." You just keep eating. I should be fine. Honestly, you probably shouldn't even watch. Maybe even move away a foot or so, this'll reek." She looked over to him, and almost laughed as a stubborn look crossed his face, almost a little insulted.

Just like Tommy. Stubborn fools.

"I'll be fine."

"Suit yourself," she answered with a shrug. " But please try and keep the food down, for you sake and mine. We don't have much to spare and I have neither time nor the will to clean up right now."

Joel only scoffed as an answer, so Liv let him be and got up to ready everything. She took the mixture with the bandages off of the fire so they could cool down, then she poured some hot water into the basin Eugene had readied and washed her hands in it once it was sufficiently warm. She soaked the rag in it and wrung it out, before turning to Ellie. By force of habit she started talking to her, even though she was unconscious, as she deftly ripped off the already cut sleeve.

"Alright, let's get you cleaned up."

Next to her she felt Joel stiffen as she grabbed Ellie's wrist and lifted her arm to clean it.

"Sorry, the shirt was already ruined, we'll get her something— What…?" Her fingers had caught on ridges on Ellie's inner arm, and she'd turned it to inspect them. Liv froze, her question caught in her throat. She stared down at the upturned arm, her thoughts racing as her stomach dropped. Immediately she saw in her mind the half-submerged corpse of a runner she'd spotted in the ditch.

It was days old. It's too long. She'd have turned by now. But that's a bite.

Joel rose along with the hairs on her neck. " She's not infected, I swear." His voice was hard and choked, and the way he said it, the tone of defense and wariness, didn't help at all.

She didn't look at him, instead Liv kept her eyes on the crescent shaped scar. Her eyes wandered over the silvery-white ridges and knots, the discoloration and cysts, the teeth marks clearly visible. She took a deep breath to calm herself, as Joel gave voice to her thoughts.

"Look at the scar: it's old. She ain't infected, I swear. If the runner had bitten her, she'd've turned by now, and you know it." He swallowed hard and leaned forward slowly, placing his hand gently and slowly on her arm. "Careful." Liv looked down to see that her fingers were digging into Ellie's skin, her knuckles as white as his on her arm. For the fraction of a second they met eyes, and what Liv saw equally calmed and worried her. He was right; Ellie was not infected, her gut had told her so after the first shock, too. But she knew that she was right too: He wouldn't stop at anything to protect this girl. With a swallow, she nodded and let go of her arm.

"Yeah, I can see that. I'm sorry."

Joel released her arm and leaned back, nodding. "I get it." He cleared his throat, occupying himself with his cup. "She uh— Apparently she was bitten back two years ago or so in a struggle— bitten by a human, I mean. Got infected and all, that's why it looks like that. Snuck out of the QZ and crossed some wrong people."

Liv studied him for a moment, then the scar. As far as she could see there was no fungal growth anywhere, so his story might check out as well, and to contemplate the other option was too much for her right now. She decided to do what had always served her best; focus on the problem before her that she could solve. For anything else, she was too tired, to terrified, too needed right now. Ellie showed no signs of turning, so the most important part was true. She nodded, more to herself then to him, and set to work with the cloth, cleaning the arm of dirt.

"So you haven't been together that long?"

"Uh, no. I was… tasked to get her somewhere, as a favor to someone. Took us damn near a year. When we got there, nobody was left there… so we came back here together." She felt him look at her, but she kept to her task. " Tommy didn't tell you?", he asked, his voice a little higher than she'd felt was natural.

"No, he just told me that his brother came through a couple months back. I didn't ask."

"You guys close?"

She smiled a little as she got up to wash out the cloth and wash her hands. " Somewhat, yes. I've known him a long time." Liv stood and dried her hands, then grabbed her knife and stuck it in the boiling water. " So she was an errand. But not anymore." When he looked at her with raised eyebrows, she shrugged. "It's not hard to see that you care about her."

"It's hard to travel the country with someone and not grow close." He sounded defensive, almost a little embarrassed.

Liv nodded. "Especially with a kid." She plucked the knife out of the water and laid it on the clean table, before she grabbed the bottle of alcohol to clean her hands. "What's she like? I need to concentrate for a moment, so I can't talk, and it'll keep you occupied and conscious," she told him with a grin.

Joel snorted. He watched her clean her hands and ready everything to cut into Ellie's arm. He was pretty sure he wouldn't pass out again. The food, water and rest had already done wonders, but the knot in his stomach had returned full force.

She'd seen the bite. Again, someone was readying knives next to an unconscious Ellie. He tried to stay grounded, but his nose was filled with the scent of copper and his heart was hammering away.

This is different. Tommy is on his way. She knows Tommy. She doesn't have it in her eyes. This is different.

He repeated the thoughts over and over, but he couldn't help being forcefully aware of every weapon, every asset, every exit. And Joel knew that she was aware of it too. When they'd looked at each other briefly over the scar on Ellie's arm, while Joel was cursing himself for his recklessness, he'd seen it in her eyes. She wasn't harmless, but she was no danger to them. Most importantly, she was smart. Silently he cursed himself for his fumbling attempt at diversion. She'd accepted it wordlessly, to his relief, but it made him realize that he— that they needed a story. Ellie couldn't run around with a bite mark on her arm, making people have questions, or worse, telling people she was immune. He'd screwed up with his story to her already, and now he needed to rectify that. Protect her. He figured that this was his best choice. Liv didn't seem like a gossip, but as a nurse and with connections to Tommy, whatever they may be, she probably took a central role in the community. Having her as an ally was valuable.

Joel watched her grip Ellie's arm and quickly, efficiently cut the wound open. He gagged as the scent hit his nose, and he turned his face away, jaw clenched. Behind him, he heard Liv scoff.

"Told you so."

"Fine, you win." He pushed himself further down the couch, away from the stench.

"So, you were gonna tell me what she's like."

Joel studied his thumb tracing the rim of his cup, and couldn't help but smile. "Disrespectful and a smart-ass. Stubborn as hell, and reckless. A real troublemaker. Haven't met anyone so prone to get herself in a bad situation. Doesn't listen to a word I say. She's a decent shot. Obsessed with comics and cursing and the worst puns you'll ever hear. Overflowing fantasy. Cares more than is good for her. Heavy, in a ways. Her mother died at birth, she's grown up in the Boston QZ as an orphan. But it made her tough, having no one to rely on. She's a fighter."

"But now she has you." Liv said it as a fact, not looking up, still focused on her work. The way she said it made it sound so simple. It was a million ways more complicated than that. But true nonetheless.

"I guess."

"No?"

He sighed. The old instinct to lock up, to hide and defend reared in him, but Joel was tired, and he felt no judgment from her. And a little vulnerability would go a long way for helping his plan. Only now, here in the calm of the lodge, he realized what it would mean to return to a form of society that was secure and had room for anything else than survival. Even if it went against his instincts, he'd have to get used to it anyhow. Especially if he wanted to keep Ellie around.

"She does… If she wants to."

He saw Liv's eyebrow lift, her hands unfaltering. "Why wouldn't she?"

"She no longer needs me to survive now. She's free to choose now."

Liv seemed to contemplate that. Instead of encouragement, she simply said: "I see."

His stomach dropped at her admission, even if it gave him the slightest hope that he was at least doing the right thing. Ellie would get to choose. Tommy's accusation still rang in his head.

I still have nightmares from the shit you did to protect us!

Joel swallowed and stared down into his cooling tea. " It was… hard for us. We're both stubborn— that probably ain't a surprise to you, if you know my brother," he said with a slight smile, and he heard her snort, " and it took a while for us to get used to each other. There were a lot of close calls… After we left here, we ran into a hunter encampment down in Colorado. I nearly died. She saved my life, but was caught." He swallowed against the lump in his throat. His dreams were either filled with the hospital or filled with smoke, fire, blood, a sobbing Ellie cradling a machete. "She wasn't harmed. Physically. But the things she saw… They had no food, so they… made it."

For the first time, Liv stilled her work and turned to him, eyes wide and face pale as she understood his meaning. " Jesus, " she whispered. She shook her head to clear it, and he saw blood drop to the floor next to the couch, turning his stomach. Liv followed his gaze, and returned to her work. "Don't worry, it's clean now. She'll survive the blood loss. It's good that it flows, it helps me clean the wound." At that, she pulled the basin filled with herbs closer, and started preparing bandages. He saw her clench her jaw as she grabbed the small bottle of iodine. "These fucking hunters. They're worse monsters than the infected. At least they have no choice. It's a fucking farce..." Joel watched her wrap Ellie's wound carefully, all the while shaking her head incredulously, and it almost made him smile how outraged she was, as if that wasn't the world they had all been living in for the last fifteen years.

Liv sighed and stretched her neck and shoulders. Silently he watched her grab needle and thread, focusing himself on watching her work, watching Ellie's face twitch in her sleep, to ward off the images in his head. Liv worked quickly, clearly having done this a hundred times. She was silent, probably occupied with thoughts of killing as well, as she wrapped the bandages around Ellie's arm and secured them. When she was done, she pulled the blanket over Ellie and touched her forehead to check her temperature.

"Alright, we'll leave it for now. I'll change bandages again later, unless the bleeding doesn't stop, but it's looking good. Right now she needs rest, water, and later, food."

He watched her wipe the blood from her hands and picked up bandages soiled with blood and pus, throwing them into the dirty water. " And now, to you." She came over to him and knelt down in front of him, and at his puzzled look, she laughed. "Your leg?"

"Oh." Honestly, he'd forgotten. There were few parts of his body that didn't hurt and throb.

Joel watched Liv kneel down and gently grab his foot. "I'll take off your shoe, and then you'll put your foot against my shoulder."

He wanted to argue that he was reeking and she certainly didn't want his shoes off, but quickly realized that there was no use for vanity. She hadn't flinched over Ellie's wound, and he doubted that she'd be doing her job if she was that sensitive. It wasn't a luxury she could afford.

As if that isn't the world we've been living in for fifteen years.

At his nod she made short work of his laces and pulled his boot of, and even though she tried to be gentle, at her yank, he was painfully aware of his leg again. Grinding his teeth, he lifted it up to her shoulder with her help, were it fit surprisingly comfortably.

"I'll have to cut open the jeans, I'm afraid. You could take it off, but this'll be easier, especially for checking on the bandages later. Too complicated to get you in an out of it with the wet bandages, to cold to keep it off altogether. I can sow the cut back together when we get to Jackson."

There was no teasing to her voice, but Joel felt the slightest blush anyhow, much to his annoyance. "Just do what you have to."

Gracefully, she ignored his blush and slid her knife beneath the seam of his jeans. For the moment, she seemed satisfied to work, no questions shooting his way. As he watched her wrap the cut fabric up and grabbing a clean rag to wipe the mud from his leg and wound, Joel took his time to study her. He realized he hadn't really looked at her the whole time, too wound up in the anxiety to survive and Ellie's injury.

Sure, his brain had scanned her briefly, the way he was used to: she was a head smaller than him, neither skinny nor particular muscular, probably around Tommy's age. His brain had categorized that physically, she wasn't much of a challenge, then moved on to study the men. It wasn't that he thought women were no threat— he'd lived and fought with Tess long enough, god knew. His brain was just used to getting the necessary information and moving on.

Now that the immediate danger was over, his brain moved further. Up close, he was sure she was younger than Tommy, at least by a couple of years. Joel guessed she was in her mid thirties, even if her face looked younger. No lines around her eyes, no grey or white in her dirty blonde hair, that was longer than he was used to seeing. Joel assumed that was due to her living in a secure settlement, in the outside world, no one bothered with long hair or risked giving the world and others one more opportunity of getting caught or grabbed. Her face wasn't as gaunt as he was used to, helping her look younger, he assumed. She looked… healthy.

But Joel noticed the other signs too, the look in her eyes, the worried wrinkles on her forehead, the scars she carried that he could see. A cut at her throat, left by a knife pressed there. The edge of a ridged scar that peeked out above the collar of her shirt, looking like she'd been stabbed. Cuts on her arms and hands, a sizable silvery line running along the left edge of her jaw, a newer, red scar on her right temple that broke her hairline, no hair growing where the injury had left a small breach between the strands. She had seen violence.

The hands that were currently finishing wiping down his leg felt soft but calloused, obviously used to hard work, and despite their small size, they were strong.

This world had made him good at judging people out of necessity, and he wasn't surprised that she was a friend of his brothers. He wondered if there had ever been more between them. He knew his brother, and she seemed to be a good, sturdy person.

Liv poured alcohol over her hands and wiped them down, before she tilted the bottle above his leg. It stung, but Joel bit down the grunt as she cleaned the cut. As she readied himself to sew his wound, his curiosity won out.

"So, how long have you known my brother?"

She briefly glanced up at him, a small smile appearing on her lips. "Uh… We're going on seven years now."

Joel lifted his eyebrows. Tommy had told him he'd been in Jackson for four years, so that meant she'd met him before. Again, she seemed to guess his thoughts.

"I met him and Eugene in the Denver QZ, back when they were with the Fireflies."

He felt the hairs on his neck rise. "You a Firefly?"

Liv shook her head. "Nah. I've served with them for about eight months, because the only alternative was joining the military, but I never considered myself part of them." She was silent for a moment, lost in thought. " I did go to Denver to join them, but I was young and stupid and had only heard the good stories. Reality caught up fast, and I disagreed with their methods. " A grin broke across her face. " In the end, it turned out well though, because I found Tommy and Eugene, and brought them both back here."

That surprised him. "So you were livin' in Jackson before, but left? I thought this was one of the places that was more or less secure from the start?"

A sigh escaped her. "Yes, to both. I lived here with Maria— Tommy's wife— and her father. We built this place up. I was only twenty on outbreak day, and my … temper is very different from theirs, so we disagreed over the years. I was young, and thrilled by the idea of saving the world. I thought we ought to share our resources with the Fireflies, make Jackson a base. We disagreed, had a horrible fight, and I stubbornly left for Denver. Luckily, I was smart enough to first get my opinion on them before I told them about Jackson. I was disillusioned pretty fast. Denver was horrible. Violent. There was no hope in that place." She grew silent for a moment. With a sigh, she dipped her head toward his leg and bit off the thread, tying it off neatly. Joel hadn't even felt the stitches. "I befriended Tommy and Eugene though, and since they weren't happy either, we escaped a few months later when we had the chance, and came to Jackson."

He studied her and tried to draw comparisons, but he truthfully couldn't for life of him recall Maria's face. Joel was fairly sure she was blonde, too.

"So Maria is your sister."

A small smile as she pushed herself up after dressing his wound. "In all ways that matter, yes."

Joel scoffed. " You always this vague?"

Liv grinned. "Keeps you on your toes. Have to make sure you're awake. Oath and all that jazz." As he rolled his eyes, she laughed openly. " We're not sisters by blood, but she is my sister. Don't worry, there is no great mystery, there are just more pressing matters right now."

She picked up the remaining basin and placed it next to him, pushing a piece of cloth and small slip of soap into his hand afterwards. "Get yourself cleaned up. I'll go out to the stream and get some fresh water— I'll leave the door open so you can hear me. I'd rather get enough water for the rest of the night in while it's still light outside."

At his nod, she turned and carried the basin soaked with Ellie's blood outside. Joel took the cloth to the warm water and rubbed the soap into it. Now that the option to clean himself was there, he noticed how much he reeked after their days in the pit. He felt the dried mud crack on his skin whenever he moved.

The relief he felt upon rubbing his face with warm water never failed to catch him by surprise, no matter how often he was caught in the wilderness, unable to clean himself properly. Joel wiped his face, his hands, eventually surrendering, unbuttoned his shirt and dipped his head into the basin. As he started working on his chest, he heard Liv return, and murmuring to her horse in the entryway, followed by the sounds of greedy drinking.

A minute later she returned with another basin, after having secured the door again, and filled the pots on the fire. They payed each other no mind, her feeding the fire and busying herself, and him, battling the dirt on his skin. Joel thought that maybe he ought to feel embarrassed at sitting half-naked, but Liv seemed unbothered and paid him no mind, and he was too tired to care.

That was until he winced while trying to reach past his shoulder and a hand appeared next to him, softly withdrawing the cloth from his hand.

"Let me help."

Efficiently but gently Liv took the cloth to his back, wiping away the dirt. He'd had no doubt about her skill, having seen her patch them up, but the way she washed and gently massaged his sore muscles showed a skill beyond the simple stitching of a wound. Joel bit the insides of his cheeks, stifling groans of pain and the pleasure of its relief. A shiver and violent goosebumps broke across his skin, both from the icy air against his now wet skin, and the simple, almost entirely alien pleasure of being touched without the intention of harm. It shook him more than he would've expected. It was too easy forget that care was part of being human, too, when you were surrounded by nothing but violence. The things he had seen. Joel fought down the urge to run, to fight, to protect himself. He had made a choice when he had turned them back to Jackson. Ellie needed them. He couldn't be afraid, even if this all went against his instincts.

"There you go." Joel could hear the smile in her voice as she took a small dry towel and dried his back. Once she was done, she handed it to him and grabbed his shirt, caked with dirt, and studied it with a frown. "I'm afraid if I wash this, you'll freeze to death. Better to get you a bit dirty again. I'm almost sure that shouldn't kill you." With a grin, she went to one of the vacant tables and started beating his shirt against it, the dry mud cracking and bursting into clouds of dust, before returning it to him again.

"Thank you."

Cleaner, dry and warm, he already felt a lot better, and now that the most pressing matters were taken care of Joel felt heaviness settle into his bones. The muscles Liv had just cleaned and massaged felt like lead, and a yawn broke its way out of him.

A second later, a blanket hit him in the face.

"Get some sleep." It was a command, but she was smiling. "I'll make us some food and you need rest. I'll wake you once it's done. You need it… and honestly," she said, glancing about and across the huge windowed front, "I'd rather have you sleep now while it's light outside and be awake with me once it's dark. Better safe than sorry."

"Any reason to worry?" Joel thought about the ambush on the plant the last time he'd been at Jackson, and her reaction to the Hunters.

Liv hesitated. "The last time we saw Hunters was two months ago. The last stragglers, five weeks ago. Some infected cross this valley now and then, but they aren't what's worrying me. … We'll probably be fine. "

"Still. Wake me when you're done." He nodded at her, understanding her worry. He spread the blanket above himself and lay back dutifully, sleep gripping him almost immediately.

#the last of us #Joel Miller #tlou fanfic #joel x oc #tlou1 #tlou2 #the best of us #fanfic

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booatlantis · 4 years ago

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“The Pain”- Part 2

When my doctor mentioned endometriosis I felt panicked, but oddly relieved that all my reading and research may not be in vain (I mean it still could be, I still don’t know what the hell is wrong with me). I have very much become one of those people that reads too much into their symptoms...but when you don’t know what’s going on with your body it’s easy to spiral down that rabbit hole.

A couple of months ago I read the book Conversations With Friends by Sally Rooney (highly recommend) and spoiler alert (stop reading now if you want to read this book or are reading this book) but the main character ends up being diagnosed with endo. Now, at the time I had only seen endometriosis pop as a term when googling ‘severe period pain’ - providing a brief synopsis of what the condition is. The character experiences this black-out level, nausea inducing pain and I remember reading this and thinking, “this sounds familiar.” She gets a diagnosis of endo through an ultrasound alone...which is rare, and this happens quite quickly- for most women a diagnosis can take up to seven and a half years.

(Okay you can start reading again now)

This began my research into endo, a disease which apparently affects one in ten women, yet most people don’t seem to have heard of. And this, even if I don’t have endo, is why my research has not been in vain.

The condition can only truly be diagnosed through a laparoscopy (surgery) to search for the endometriosis (so, endometriosis causes tissue similar to the lining of the uterus to grow outside of it, elsewhere in the body. Normally, during your period, your uterus sheds this lining. However, as this tissue has nowhere to go it causes pain) and to remove the tissue and any cysts that may have developed. This, I dread, is something I may have to face if my ultrasound (when I eventually get an appointment) does not reveal anything.

Honestly, lately this has been playing on my mind a lot and just the general stress of not knowing what is wrong with my body as well as the thought of, “well, it could also be nothing...” Having to process all of this through a time of covid has not helped ease my spiralling mind and the thought of even going near a hospital scares me and has stopped me from seeking help when I’ve been at my worst. My parents told me people would go to A&E for less, but in the world we live in now I feel that option doesn’t quite sit the same. So, I would rather ride the pain out, as nightmarish as it is.

However, part of me is grateful that I am going through this in the time of covid, as through most of it I have been at home on lockdown. On days where the pain has struck hard I’ve been able to suffer alone in my room with water, meds and a heatable cuddly fox. Only on one occasion have I experienced the pain in work- luckily I had experienced the worst through the night, so I was exhausted and in pain but I could just about cope (I was slightly delirious but that’s cool...). With this in mind, it makes me wonder how “the pain” would affect my work...how it could and may affect my work in the future. One does not wish to call in sick over “period pain” (since I still don’t know what “the pain” is), especially when this is not just a “bad period.”

The term “bad period” has been so overused and normalised people and medical professionals have become accustomed to brushing aside a woman’s pain. No, our pain is valid. Periods, pain and conditions relating to them should be discussed. People should be able to discuss their pain and not feel judged because it is taboo, or just a “bad period.” Fuck that shit.

Anyway, this is the point I’m at right now...stuck in a limbo not knowing and only knowing what “the pain” might be...my mind still tells me it might be nothing...and I hate my body more...

So, until then I wait. I endure.

#pain #endometriosis #endo #ibs #health #help #personal #writing

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shespainting · 4 years ago

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when my description became my first post

“I'm trying to heal. Painting is so therapeutic for me, I can clear my mind and listen to music or a podcast, and just create. But when I find myself without distractions, my subconscious decides to intervene. I've been told keeping a journal on your cPTSD, your trauma, or writing down your anxiety attacks can help.Just some background on me ~ I'm in my 20s and I've always been too curious for my own good. Introduced to drugs at 12, I used for over a decade while my brain was trying to mature. I stopped partying daily in 2015 and haven't picked up a needle since. I'm scared of who I used to be, I don't remember a lot, but what I do remember is very hard to come to terms with. I'm having trouble processing all my memories and the past and present get jumbled together. This is starting to seem like a post rather than a description... maybe i'll post it instead.”

Today I haven’t had as much anxiety, I’ve been feeling relieved actually. It probably has to deal with the election being over, and not having to hear my mom refer to Trump as “He Who Must Not be Named” anymore. (Which I hated by the way, why give him that power? He’s no Voldem-)

It’s crazy to see how much she’s spiraled in that last few years.

My mom and I have the strangest relationship now. Now that I am clean, and she is using (alcohol only, but still- to me that is the worst drug of all) I feel like the mother, and she the daughter. She used to be addicted to pills but when I was 13 she went to rehab on the fly. Didn’t plan for it at all, which now that I’ve been in the shoes of someone who uses drugs regularly to stay sane, I understand the “snap” feeling. The “I cannot do this anymore, I need help now” feeling, but at the time I didn’t understand. Neither did my father, he wanted my mom to come home so bad. Two days of my mom being gone, he drove up to the rehab facility and called her outside. He was on a new motorcycle he’d just bought and he said, get on I’ll take you out of here. You don’t have to stay here. My mom, shocked at the fact that my Dad bought a motorcycle, didn’t go with him. She stayed and pointed out that him buying that bike was basically him going thru mid life crisis. And she would say that all the time to everyone, oh he’s going through a mid life crisis, but now that I’m older I don’t think he was. I think he couldn’t believe the audacity she had to check into rehab, for 30 days, leaving the house and children unattended without even discussing it with her husband first. So he went out and did something HE wanted to do, without discussing it with her first, because she had drawn the line there, set that boundary by not asking for his opinion/care in the rehab matter. That’s what I believe, it makes sense to me and I feel bad for him. He was still drinking too, but my Dad was always a functioning alcoholic, and if he got belligerent or violent it was always behind closed doors. But those are stories for another time.

When it comes to my daughter/mother relationship, we’ve had so many ups and downs, but usually we’ve been close. The last five years is the farthest apart we’ve been which is weird because we still talked weekly up until July 2020, I moved back into my childhood home, into my mom’s house so that I could save rent. And the pandemic just made stuff difficult, like it has for everyone. My mom and I don’t relate to each other as much anymore. She likes to start drinking pretty early in the day, which is annoying because she is also the type of person that can’t be in the same room as someone without engaging in conversation with them, or talking at them. Recently, because my memory is bad, I’ve asked her if she could try not to throw random thoughts my way because I have enough thoughts in my own head that I’m trying to sort through being back in this house and I don’t need more. She just says, oh honey I know, I can hardly remember things too! But I’m like, you’re in your 60s and I’m in my 20s. Our memories shouldn’t be near the same. While I love her, I cannot trust her. She likes to play addict games, lie for no reason or just to get away with it. She likes hiding things, and acts childish and gossipy in the evenings because that’s when the alcohol she’s been drinking all day long finally hits her.

I’ve caught my mom going through my things for medication before, so now I have to watch my purse, my room, my things. If I’m upstairs and my mom is downstairs, or vice versa, I wonder... is she going thru something of mine? If she got to my medication, which is in a safe so she can’t, would she take it from me? Knowing I have panic attacks, would she steal it from me? I know she would. And she would lie to me about it afterwards. Or she will say, I’m sorry but I’m an addict and you know I can’t control it if they’re around. Blame it on me for leaving them somewhere she could find them, where they may have been visible or I have even heard “you didn’t hide them good enough” from her when I was a teenager and I had gotten a painkiller script for ovarian cysts.

Before I got clean, my mom and I were so close, I think because she felt needed. I was always calling her to come help me out of a bad situation, and she did, always. She is an enabler, and I guess I am too now. I don't want to be like her, but how do I react? I don’t buy her alcohol, I don’t drink with her, I don’t give her pills and if she’s about to leave the house, I don’t let her drive drunk. But I hide things and keep secrets for her. I know things that could get her in trouble. She knows she has a problem, but she doesn’t care. I’m constantly scared shes going to be drinking and driving and get pulled over, or that worse, she could hit someone! She says the stupidest things when she’s drunk.

It’s very embarrassing, especially when she triggers some memory of mine by asking, “Do you remember when your dad burned my couch pillows in the fireplace?” or “Do you remember when your dad said/did, x y or z...?” “Do you remember that one guy you brought home, what was his name?” And I hadn’t remembered until she said it then the flash of that memory comes, and then another memory resurfaces because something about the last was similar, and then I walk into the kitchen to get away from her and I see the sliding glass door, and another memory hits me. I start to cry and turn around and see the sink, I see myself at 13 standing over it, bleeding. I hear yelling coming from the backyard. My knees hurt all of a sudden and I remember what it felt like to be pushed down, my kneecaps hitting the terracotta tile as I went. The fight continued, but slowly blurs away from my thoughts, I’m in a different room now. I must have walked out.

#description #writeaway #intrusivethoughts #addiction #recovery #panic attack #trauma vent #vent post #alcoholic parent

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nischelatte · 4 years ago

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JUST A STRANGER REVIEW

I write half of this unsolicited thoughts of mine last night and slept, kasi dinama ko pa din yung movie. And woke up to continue write whatever is on my mind, but still idk why its still heavy. This is my personal opinion and take sa movie. Watching this movie left me with a heavy heart, it is beautifully heart breaking. It made me realize things that I’ll enumerate below. So if you haven’t watched the movie, I suggest you stop reading from here. There will be spoilers. I’m warning you. 😉

Anne Curtis as usual, panalong panalo ang ganap. 🙌 Damang dama mo, and yet very sophisticated. Parang the whole time nanood ako ay puro praise kay Ate mo Anne, kahit anong angulo ne. Pinaramdam nya sakin na ang unfair ng life. 😂🙈🤣 Dyosang dyosa! She effortlessly delivered her role as Mae, a beautiful young wife of a successful and wealthy business man, Phil. She’s experienced, matured, and sophisticated however unhappy with her marriage.

And Marco Gumabao, which I would say that he gave justice to his role too. Pero kulang, kulang ng kanin yung baon ko sa sinehan kasi nasa harap ko na ang ulam! Hahahhak! At ang butt exposure cyst! 🍑 Yung pinaka aabangan hahahhaa! 🙈 Charing pero magaling to kasi his gestures and acting is great! He delivered it well, Just like the way he delivered his role to Los Bastardos! 💯✔️ 👏 His acting as a 19yr old baby boy that definitely knows how to fuck, immature, young and full of life but cant stand his ground because he values his relationship with his family and girlfriend.

Cinematography is also great! I love the colors, and scenes. Ang galing. 🙌 It gave the best story telling and ~*fEels*~ in each scene.

From those moments, yung sa lisbon, sa museum, sa town house, and yung pinaka heart breaking yung scene sa ending, when Mae had a dream about jekjek and saw that morning that he passed away, yung scene ni Anne sa veranda, yung scene sa kitchen na kita yung laway nya thats very authentic and yet damang dama mo. Ang galing! 👏

Maganda rin yung plot ng story. Mapapaisip ka tapos feeling mo alam mo na yung mga susunod na mangyayare pero girl you do note. Hahahak. Ang ganda. It was really heart breaking. So here’s some take aways after watching the movie.

* You will meet someone in your life unexpectedly, and in just a snap, yung buong mundo mo maiiba yung ikot.

* Cheating is never right, but we all have reasons. Its more than that. Girls dont cheat for sex, they cheat for love. On the other hand Boys cheat for sex.

* People will always have an option, and power to choose whatever they desire or truly want. But is afraid to face consequences with their choices.

* There will be events that will definitely affect the way you make decisions in life or moments that may cause you loneliness. But it was never enough reason to cheat on someone.

* The more you resist, the more it will come to you.

* Funny that somehow somewhere universe will collide for you to be in another situation you’re trying to avoid. Sometimes, sinusubok ka lang kung marupok ka pa o hindi. Wala kaso marupok ka e. 😂🙈

* You will meet someone, and in some level you are undeniably click. You learned a lot of good things about him. Theres connection between you and him. You will meet someone in strange time, and will make you feel special. Feelings that you never felt before, and there you are wishing that there will be something more. Because you allow to see perfection to somebody else.

* If you’re unhappy, leave. Be brave enough to take full responsibility of your actions and accept consequences. Like Mae, she was brave enough to choose Jericho and left everything for him and face her consequences.

* Everyone can make you feel loved, pero wag na baby boy. Masyado magkaiba yung timeline nyo sa life and you might just end up hurting each other. Thing is you’ll be willing to give up everything for him, pero sya he cant. And he wont. It just so happen na nakilala mo sya, nung mahina ka. Malungkot ka.

* “We’re going to pay for this..” Every actions, and decision you make in your life will have consequences. We have what we call Karma right?

SCENE STEALERS! Eto yung mga tumatak talaga sakin while watching the movie.

- That fart in the midst of their sex is hillarious! That shows sobrang comfortable na nila sa isa’t isa.

- Yung confession sa simbahan and yung reactions ni father hahaha

- That tricycle scene nung dumating yung girlfriend ni Jericho madam na madam si Anne

- That scene when Mae’s friend said,” Its either sobrang lungkot nito or sobrang saya” that club scene where she broke down

- DIABLITA! 👹

- That scene where she ranted to Jericho and did let him know that she left everything for him

- Iconic crying scene with a dripping saliva is a golden moment 👌 watch out!

This movie has the most powerful ending! Grabe lang! Twisted and heart breaking!

“No one, I’m just a stranger” this line!!! Cyst! Heart breaking! Kahit hindi ka heart broken ma bbroken heart ka teaaa!!

Crazy that you’ll meet someone, then you’ll be undeniably click, and immediately that the two of you, on some level, belong together. As lovers, as friends or something entirely different. You learned everything about him, the real him. Real things that made him, him. Amazingly you’ll know everything about him, but you’re not part of his world, not his reality.

Because you were just out there, you were a history that not everyone needs to know. Because not everyone will understand. And Sometimes, its fine that both you exist, once upon a time. Heart breaking it is that you’ll only remember them in your heart and mind, and you had special moments but not everyone will know, because you’re not allowed to be officially visible in his life, and that you were someone’s dirty little secret.

BUT AGAIN, CHEATING IS CHEATING AND IT WILL NEVER BE RIGHT. NO ONE DESERVE TO SLEEP AT NIGHT WONDERING WHATS WRONG WITH THEM.

Until now, sobrang bigat pa din cyst. Like anona self hahahhak anyway, OVERALL RATING 10/10 ⭐️💯

I wrote this and posted on facebook a year ago, and it was on my today’s memories. After Just a stranger was release in netflix few months after it was on cinemas I never had the chance to watch it again because it left me with a heavy heart because I was really moved and caught up with the story line, as in damang dama ko ganoin.

So today I decided to watch it again, and sis here I am again with my heavy heart, same feels grabe talaga still cant get over with this freakin movie. It was really good.. and I cri again for the 898492302th time lol! I did took notes again and I realized that when you follow your emotions when you are vulnerable and unstable you end up messing up again. You end up making poor decisions thats why its really important to have a strong EQ so you wont end up hurting yourself or putting yourself in a situation where you dont even know the true meaning of love, or just the love you are looking for.

We live in a day where God is our emotions, thats why we up making poor decisions to find the love we think we deserve.

So you better take it slow, breath and try to process your emotions first. ;)

#mema #braindump #moviereview #JustaStranger

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thebibliosphere · 6 years ago

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Hey bibliomum! Sorry to bug you with more EO shiznit, but I was wondering if tea tree oil is in fact beneficial for treating acne. I have come into a rather large quantity of tea tree eo, and while i'd love to use some, i'm not quite sure how. And I struggled to find a trustworthy online source. Any advice for using it?

It can be good for some people, particularly if their acne is being caused by ongoing bacterial issues (happens). Depending on the kind of tea tree oil you acquired, it may already be diluted with a carrier oil for skin use—a lot of tea tree oils found in pharmacy skincare aisles for example, tend to already be diluted for this purpose, and it will state explicitly on the bottle if it is. If you can’t see anything of that kind, assume it is undiluted and must be mixed with a carrier oil first before being applied to the skin.

The ratio I tend to use for my acne is 2-5 drops per half cup of carrier oil. Jojoba, coconut, sweet almond, grapeseed etc are all good choices for the skin provided you’re not personally allergic to any of them. I like to use tea tree inside a roller ball applicator, so I can spot treat problem issues. (I get cystic acne from my menstrual cycle, it helps keep my jaw from erupting into giant painful cysts.)

What you absolutely do not want to do is apply the mix to your whole face cause that’s one way to ensure eye irritation and possible nasal and lung irritation as well as well as sensitizing yourself to it as a whole. Tea tree is for spot treatment, not entire body application.

You should also do a tiny test dab on your skin, preferably on your inner arm, and watch for any irritation that might occur, as some people can be quite sensitive and react poorly to tea tree, so that’s just something to be aware of. As with all essential oils you can become sensitized to it over time, so if the skin gets worse with application from tea tree, don’t persist with it. Contrary to popular myth, burning and worsening of symptoms does not equate to “working” and can worsen acne scars in the long term. (Pro-tip, some people find that applying honey to acne scars can help reduce the scarring over time.) Allow it to dry into the skin and them moisturize well, as essential oils even when properly diluted can be quite drying on the skin depending on your skin type.

If you need to remove it in a hurry, using more carrier oil to further dilute it on your skin is the quickest way to get it off. Then flush the area for 15 minutes with cool water. If you’ve run out of carrier oil, any oil in your kitchen will do, olive, veg, sunflower, whatever, you just need something to further dilute the oil down until you can wipe it off with a clean cloth and cool water.

Absolutely do not use it near your eyes. This applies to all essential oils. Do not pass go, do not collect, do not ever use essential oils near your eyes. If you do manage to get it in your eye flush the area with water (or preferably a saline eye bath rinse) and call your local poison control or nurse line. If after 20 minutes of rinsing your eye is still burning, get to an ER so an eye bath can be administered and reduce your chances of corneal damage. Antibiotic drops may also be required. I’m not saying this to scare you out of using it, I’m saying this so yourself and others know how to use it safely and what to do in the event it somehow gets it in the eyes, or you have an adverse reaction. Safety first, and all that.

#essential oils #EO #dibidibidismol

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phoenix-angel-suyari · 5 years ago

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Mi Gente, I’m going to be 1000% honest with you. (New followers, I am SO sorry!)

But, I’m going to do it behind a cut because I care about you and you should be able to scroll past unburdened. Absolutely no judgement here. (Phone app users, again, I am so sorry.)

I am not okay.

To be fair, I don’t think any of us are right now. It’s a really rough time to be living through and I do think for the most part, we’re all doing our best and that’s all we can really ask for.

But we touch in with each other, and everyone is being really delicate about it. We’re so concerned about laying even more on other people - especially people we care about, who care about us - that no one’s really being honest. Oh, sometimes you get a bit of it, here and there. No one really expects anyone to be thriving, but I don’t think we’re having very many open conversations about what this is doing to us. And because I can literally feel myself sliding at the moment, I figure, I may as well start.

Because I am at an exceptionally high risk for covid, I was essentially locked down by my own medical team fairly early. Which means I was already in isolation before it became a thing that was asked of everyone else. So, I have a little more time in this box weighing me down.

Let’s get the basics out of the way just to catch up, for anyone who may be reading this who are unfamiliar. I suffer from Depression, Debilitating Migraines, Insomnia, Asthma, IBS, Dysmenorrhea, Ovarian Cysts, Uterine Fibroids. Tachycardia, Hypertension, Diabetes & Declining Liver Function. The last four of which are a direct result of being treated for the first two for 22 years with severely heavy doses of prescription medication. Which has also affected my Kidneys. (I used to be an organ donor. The irony.) With seven major organs regularly telling me to go fuck myself and expanding on the amount of medication I need to take on a daily basis just to keep functioning, I was told in no uncertain terms that if I contracted covid, my chances of survival would be low at best. I am a person who lives from appointment to appointment. I have a very dedicated team of doctors who work very hard to help me find a balance. But, I am also an individual who is getting constant tests as a means to keep my treatment up to date. And I haven’t been able to get any of those done, for obvious reasons. I am a person who requires regular physical therapy in order to keep my prescription requirements from increasing (as my doctors are trying to keep me on the least amount of prescription medication as possible) and I haven’t been able to get that assistance. But, the absolute worst bit by far is that protecting myself from covid has made me completely dependent on my abusers.

I am absolutely trapped here, with them. I cannot leave. It’s not just food and shelter anymore. They’re the ones going out. They’re the ones picking up my medications (of which I no longer have any privacy - but that’s a whole other story for another day). They’re the ones making all the decisions. Everything from the food to the sanitary products, to how time is being spent. I have lost all agency and every day the strain of that gets worse and worse.

I am luckier than some, I know, because I have both a Psychiatrist and a Therapist and I had them prior to the outbreak, which means that at the very least I am getting mental health care, where there are so very many who need it and cannot seem to find it now. But, it also can only do so much. Our mental health care workers are stretched so thin and are doing the best they can. But, I feel like part of that means they are prioritizing things in different ways from their patients.

My therapist and I have to work around my invasive, intrusive family. She talks and I mostly make appropriate noises and agreements because I am not free to speak with her. She asks me to elaborate and I can’t. We are constantly interrupted. And then she gives me homework and I have to wait for my connection to work to look into said homework and it always ends up being way more than I can process. I have tried to explain to her that I cannot do many of the things she suggests because of how it will upset the balance in the household. She is getting frustrated with my lack of initiative. In her office she would always start her sessions saying, “This is a safe space.” And it was, because it was far removed from any potential session subjects. But, I am not. And I will not be for some time.

I do not have my own money. Which means anything I need must be weighed by how much I am willing to exchange for receiving it. My entire life right now revolves around maintaining a very fragile peace for my own continued survival. I do not have my own home. So I have to maintain a stable subsistence by any means necessary for my own well being. Growth and healing are simply not possible in this scenario. The only thing that matters is not upsetting the status quo. I absolutely cannot afford to do anything that might compromise my position because if I do, it could literally be a death sentence.

I have so many wonderful friends. Truer family to me than any blood could ever hope to be. Without some of whom, I would be in far more dire straights. And I want you to know that I love and appreciate every one of you. I am so grateful for your presence in my life.

That being said, according to my Therapist, all of my relationships are measured in exchange. Wherein I am apparently compelled to provide a service in order to accept any sentiment show toward myself. I am driven by a need to earn my relationships and any intimacy derived therein. And, I may not be able to fix much, but I wanted to say that if anyone reading this has ever felt that way, like our friendship was weighed down with a need for provision, then I want to say now that I am so very sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way and if that was a reason you felt a need to distance yourself or pull away or leave, I absolutely respect that and I sincerely apologize for any actions on my part that lead you to have to make that sort of decision. It was unfair of me and even if I was unaware of it, I was still at fault. I hope you’re happier. I really, truly do. And if anyone feels that way now, I would appreciate it if you told me so I could actively try to work on it, because you are important to me. And it matters.

So yeah...I am not okay. I am so very far from okay that I couldn’t find okay on a map. But, if you ask me, I will be polite about it, because that is what we do. I just wanted to take a minute and just be level with everyone. Because I feel like it’s not something any of us do enough because we’re so worried about being a burden, or being too much to handle, or like if we were honest even for a little bit we would lose the people in our lives we need most. And maybe some of them will go away, and if they do that’s a decision they have to make for their own health and safety. But, I also feel like we need to start having real conversations or we’re all just going to collapse. There’s no need to suffer in silence when there are so many people willing to be there for you. We need to be reminded of that more.

Be kinder to yourself; especially now. Be a little more honest with the people you love. Sometimes all it takes is being there. All it takes is a little time. And I don’t know about the rest of you, but I certainly have a lot of that.

#my life #my family #my friends

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