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thememoriesofaqueen · 3 years ago

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In Another Life - Part 8

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A/N: Hello & welcome back. First of all, I want to thank you all for your continuous support and feedback. It means a lot to me ♥ Chapter 8 of 'In Another Life' is by far the longest chapter I've ever written with its 13k words and I can promise it's going to be a rollercoaster full of feelings. I also decided to update this chapter on Katherine's 548th birthday, so please enjoy and wish our queen a good birthday. Regarding the question about Nadia's whereabouts: She's not involved in this story yet. That's either because she wasn't introduced yet or because she had left after Katherine killed her boyfriend in 5x08 and told her to rot in hell. Still need to think about what option it's going to be. :) Little hints of Klaroline will be present in this chapter. I hope you enjoy it and please make sure to leave feedback ♥

English is not my first language

→ I do not own anything of the TVD - Universe and I’m not affiliated or associated with the writers etc. This is only a headcanon/fanfiction.

Pairing: Kalijah ( Katherine / Elijah )

TW: death, accident, hospitals

Word Count: 13.141

Please read also: AO3 and FFnet

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After the car stopped in the parking lot and the engine turned off, Elijah didn't immediately get out of the car. Instead, he took in a shaky breath and leaned his head back against the headrest. His eyes closed as he tried to compose. Not once had he thought that visiting a hospital would be as unnerving as it is now. And while he often donates generous sums of money to hospitals, he never really felt emotionally impacted by them. They were hospitals, people die there but people could also be healed. People are born in them, people get diagnosed with diseases in them, people are treated in them. Nothing that affects a vampire in the slightest, nothing that's even worth paying attention to. For some vampires, the blood bags stored in them were interesting but apart from that, vampires don't concern themselves with it.

Perhaps his donations are made out of a guilty conscience to give humankind something back to lessen the evils of his family. Nonetheless, he has never dreaded to set a foot in a hospital as much as he dreads it right now, not knowing how his visit is going to turn out.

During his drive, he had tried to not think too much about the 'what if it's her'. Because he, perhaps foolishly, believed that his Katerina won't die because of a mere car crash (however, how many humans already did die because of them?). That would not be an end that befits a person like her. A person as attentive as she could not be run over by a car. But didn't the article said something about a car crash? Some accidents cannot be prevented, no matter how attentive that person is. But no! He didn't even want to consider the possibility of such a thing as the mere thought, the mere thought experiment made him sick beyond repair.

Elijah shuddered and his eyes snapped open as that dreadful imagine started to form in his mind again: Katerina's pale, petite body strained with blood that kept flushing out her gaping wounds, her bones smashed, her chocolate brown eyes wide open but empty and lifeless.

He gritted his teeth and tried to compose himself to not let his despair out on something. The horrible apprehension that his search could come to an abrupt end when he finds her dead body drove him mad and let him almost forget his confidence that it's not her the article was about.

Nonetheless, he gulped hard, his gaze wandering down to his shaking hands which he clenched into fists in a weak attempt to get control over his body. Without success. His gaze began to become rigid as he continued to stare down at his hands, his subconscious letting him think that his hands started to be soaked with her blood, telling him that her death could have been prevented if he had just been a bit faster, a bit more forceful and energetic. If he hadn't left her, if he had made sure that Katerina was doing well after he had left.

Eventually, he found the strength to fight the inner demons, the blame he subconsciously gave himself, and he blinked, the imagined blood vanishing from his hands. Nonetheless, the guilt was still there.

"What happens if something goes wrong? You know that there are many people who'd do anything to gain power over you if they need something from you. What if someone thinks I'd made good leverage?" "Is that the reason why you refuse to officially accompany me to the meeting with the local witches?" "I'm not really keen on witches, Elijah. And a girl is going to look out after herself. I don't want to get involved with Original's drama because I certainly don't like being a weak spot." "Oh, I doubt that you're ever going to be a weak spot." "Unlike you, I can easily die. A witch doesn't even have to touch me to drive a stake through my heart." "You have nothing to fear from these witches, they are associates. Besides, I won't ever let anything happen to you or anyone harm you, Katerina. You have my word."

The memories echoed through his mind as he opened and closed his fists, still trying to prevent his hands from shaking. What a hypocrite he had been.

He went to New Orleans to prevent her from coming to harm at Niklaus' hands but at the same time, he was too mindless to properly think it through. Whatever led to Katerina's transitioning into a human, he should have been supposed to know it earlier. Not finding it out because of some unanswered calls and a conversation with his sister. He should have tried harder to keep a tap on her, no matter how much it would have broken his heart to know he cannot be with her at that time. He should have considered the other dangers, especially with the cure and Silas still being around whose intentions were unclear at the time being. Of course, he believed that Katerina could take care of herself and never get herself into a life-threatening situation because, in his eyes, Niklaus had always been the greatest threat, and with him going and being occupied in New Orleans, Elijah thought she would be safe. That she'd be safer without him. Furthermore, Elijah believed that Katerina is an extraordinary person who is very capable of fighting her own battles.

He shouldn't have assumed that everything is going to be turn out okay after he left. And that had been his mistake, his fault. The reason why blame kept weighing him down because she obviously had needed him, even called him, and he wasn't capable of helping her. Because the dagger in his heart, put there by his own brother, prevented him from protecting her and not coming sooner to her aid.

His promise, an empty shell of words if the worst comes true.

He wouldn't have caused her death directly, but her death would still be indirectly his fault if he should find out that it's indeed her that was stored in the hospital.

Elijah pressed his lips together into a thin line as he finally lifted his gaze and stared out of the windshield, directly at the hospital building. His hands closed into tight fists again and he took in a deep breath, telling himself that there's still hope. Still hope that it's not her and instead some stranger he doesn't know.

Yet he still couldn't get out of the damn car, his muscles still immobilized by the tight hold of fear that grabbed his heart.

As long as he didn't get out of the car and didn't enter the hospital, he could still hope that he'll find her alive. Oddly enough, he felt himself being reminded of the thought experiment of Schrödinger's cat that illustrates a paradox of quantum superposition. In the thought experiment, a hypothetical cat may be considered simultaneously both alive and dead. Katerina still could be both, both alive and dead, although Elijah clung to the hope it's going to be the latter.

But if he's not getting out of the car, he won't find out. He can end his own torture and can either enter a different kind of torture or can get salvation. If he's being honest to himself, he's being pathetic. A man like him shouldn't be paralyzed by fear, shouldn't be frightened by results which were also to some degree his fault.

His hands slowly unclenched and despite them still being a bit shaky, Elijah blindly grabbed his phone before his gaze finally averted from the building. The pad of his thumb hovered over the contact 'Kaitlyn Sawyer' and despite knowing it better, he called her again.

It took some time until it connected and started ringing before he was being led to the mailbox again.

“Hello. I’m currently not available and my time’s precious, so whoever this is, make it short.”

Hearing Katerina's lovely voice again, gave Elijah a stab into his heart. He didn’t leave a message this time and hung up when the beep sounded before he slowly put the phone back inside of his jacket. He would have never assumed that a simple spoken text on a mailbox could elicit such feelings in him. He recalled the tone of her voice again and again, and somehow, that gave him enough strength to get out of the car.

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Entering a hospital in a haste has always been something that Elijah had only seen from afar when Rebekah had watched some of those incredibly over-dramatic doctors- and hospital shows. He had tried his best to ignore his younger sister's comments and exclamations when something apparently tragic has happened and it had happened not only once that she was in need of a handkerchief because sometimes those shows seemed to touch her to an extent that was unbelievable. Elijah himself could never comprehend those emotions his sister managed to muster up.

And yet, as he hurried towards the entrance of the hospital in which the deadly-injured woman was kept, he felt a toxic cocktail of anguish flooding his veins despite having told -no, convinced- himself on the way from the car to the entrance that it's just a routine visit. Just to make sure it's not Katerina. Just to make sure he has covered all hints.

It didn't take him too long to orientate himself after he had entered the hospital and found himself in the reception area despite the countless humans partly hurrying, partly strolling around. No, Elijah was focused on his task and would do anything possible to get fast assurance so his eyes quickly found the information center and instantly approached it.

There were a few people of different ages waiting in front of the only two staffed service desks that both suggested a longer wait because one of the visitors seemed to have communication problems whereas the other apparently had a thousand questions the woman behind the service desk couldn't answer. Elijah, however, didn't have the time nor the nerve to wait in line in front of the information center and pushed to the front, his cold stare instantly quieting all complaints that were caused by his behavior. Once he was in front, Elijah compelled the woman with the unnecessary questions to leave.

"Excuse me sir, but it's not your turn yet. Please-"

"I'm in a hurry, you understand? I need to speak to Dr. Johnson. I'm expected."

His compulsion is fast and inconspicuous, not having the nerve of having an argument. Elijah was too distressed to muster up any patience or silly chitchat and it pleased him to see that the employee paged the Dr. instantly. Nonetheless, his fingertips drummed nervously on the surface of the counter while he's waiting for Dr. Johnson to arrive, all the while mentally renewing his belief that it's not her. That it's just a routine visit. Nothing more. There's nothing to fear. Katerina can't be here.

It can't be her. No, it can't be her.

"I'm curious, how do you muster up the drive to keep going on for so long?" "What do you mean, Elijah? Why I haven't given up yet?" "Sometimes the prospect of eternity can be scary, Katerina. "It may sound strange but to me, death is scarier. All I know is that I don't want to die ... and I don't want to find out what it feels like."

The memory of a conversation he had with Katerina shortly after they started dating came into his mind. He had always wondered what kept her going for so long. Only a few people possessed the strength to endure an endless life under such circumstances as Katerina's. Many go mad or lose themselves in things that numb their pain. Most don't make it so far. Katerina, however, had a clear idea, a goal she wanted to achieve, and that had fascinated him. Somehow she managed to not dwell too much in the past but instead was forward-looking -- quite on the contrary to him who, unfortunately, did dwell too much in the past.

The fear of dying, the fear of death was something that was essential to who Katerina is. It kept her going, it kept her making her careful and very aware of her surroundings. And although it may be foolish, Elijah tried to find an anchor in that. It's absurd that she had lost her life in a car accident ... isn't it?

Thankfully, the voice of Dr. Johnson tore him out of his thoughts.

"Mr. Mikaelson was the name, wasn't it?"

"Exactly."

"Why do you believe you can identify the injured woman? Don't get me wrong, we would be glad if we can finally close the case but she's been here for some time and no one seems to miss her."

Elijah swallowed hard and tried to get those hideous fears out of his mind as the image of a dead Katerina flashed through his mind again.

"Unfortunately, a person is missing that shares the same traits. I hope it's not her," he sincerely hoped it's not her, "but I need to make sure."

"Has she been reported as missed, Mr. Mikaelson?"

"Of course", a lie because of course the police weren't involved with Katerina's disappearance. Yes, he could compel some officers to look for her but a sufficient search would only be successful if they make a profile and that's something he cannot risk. He can't have her data be spread around for anyone to find or see, risking that the wrong people become aware of her and her current situation (or status).

"Then I can assure you the chance is low that it's her. Otherwise, the police would have been able to identify her and notify you."

Elijah's lips curled up into a weak smile despite knowing that Dr. Johnson's well-intentioned words could not do a thing to calm his nerves and as the doors of the elevator closed, he knew that there's no running back anymore. That he has to face the truth no matter how painful it's going to be.

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His restlessness had increased since they've left the elevator and walked through the small labyrinth of corridors until eventually reaching the destination.

The premises in which the deceased people were kept until they were picked up by the undertaker were immersed in cold light, making it uninviting for any visitor.

Subconsciously, another memory came into his mind as his gaze flickered over the surroundings.

"You once mentioned you were born in the Old World but your parents settled over in the New World so you basically grew up in Mystic Falls. Have you ever visited your actual home village?" "No. I hold no memory of my birthplace. I was too young to remember. Perhaps I should have made an effort and see the place I was originally from. Have you ever been to Norway?" "No. I don't like cold places. Usually, I try to avoid all cold and windy areas. But I admit I would have visited to see what your home village looked like if it still existed."

Katerina wouldn't have liked it here. More so, she would have despised the idea that she was kept in such localities. She wouldn't have liked it to lie on an ice-cold stretcher, stored away in a cool cellar whose scent of disinfectant bites in the nose. Nevertheless, he was thankful for the circumstances because at least it would prevent the body from starting to rot. He tensed at the thought, his hands clutching into fists for a short moment in order to remain calm and focused.

"I’ve already prepared her body for your visit. Usually, we keep them stored in boxes so we can assure their safety. Sometimes it's a bit hectic down here," Dr. Johnsson explained which only elicited a slow nod from Elijah.

"Here. She's in that room. I'm not coming in so you can take all the time you need to get ready. I have to warn you, the sight of an accident victim isn't easy so please prepare yourself. I advise taking deep breaths before and during you pull back the sheet and look at her. I know it's going to be hard and I sincerely hope she's not the person you're missing." Dr. Johnson looked at him in an encouraging way before briefly touching his arm, "I'm right behind the door if you need me. Take your time."

All Elijah could do is nod. While he doesn't need to be told that the sight of the dead can be nasty (he had been the reason for many nasty deaths or at least had to clean the particular hideous messes his brothers had made), he appreciated Dr. Johnson's well-meant words because he is aware that the next steps won't be easy, no matter if it's her or not.

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The room was empty with the expectation of a simple metal treatment table on which a covered body laid. Elijah had to swallow hard as he slowly approached the table and then eventually came to a halt in front of it.

Elijah almost didn't dare to take a closer look, too afraid that it's Katerina he's going to find underneath the sheet. The fear only got worse when he noted that the person seemed to have the size of the missing brunette.

The Original couldn't remember when he had last dreaded the sight of someone deceased as much as he did now. It's like an inner barrier prevents him from going ahead, from finally allowing him to come to the knowledge of the truth.

As he slowly reached out, his hand trembled again and he took in a deep breath, praying to all gods he knows of to not let this person be his Katerina that was unlucky enough to have died under such fatal circumstances. He focused on his breath as he gently grabbed the sheet and slowly moved it away from the head of the woman.

A gasp left his lips when it revealed brown, matte curls. His heart dropped and his movement froze, a pained expression on his face.

No, no, no. Please! Please for the universe's sake don't let it be her!

He shook his head more than once, gasping as his gaze was rigidly fixed on the dull curls that lacked the rich brown tone Katerina has. A circumstance that may be due to the long stay here.

Elijah didn't want to continue moving down the sheet more to reveal the face, didn't want to have certainty. In fact, he was too afraid to go ahead -- it immobilized him.

So he stood there, frozen, not knowing what he should do.

What the revelation of her death would mean.

His world would fell apart. It would crush and crumble down. It would break him, beat him down.

Once again he's reminded how important she is to him. How much he needed her. If she's gone, what is left of him? Him, as a person, not him as the eternal redemption seeker of his brother?

He assumed, has recently discovered again and again, that he had just taken her existence for granted. That she is, to some kind, as immortal as he is. He had hoped, relied on, that someday is going to be the right time, the right place. That, if he stays patient, he'll eventually find his way back to her.

But staring at the pile of dark curls so similar to Katerina's -- whether they are hers or not -- made him realize even more that nothing can be taken for granted, that his hope, his anchor, might be gone and he wasn't even there for her.

He didn't know the last moments of this person laying in front of him. They said she was immediately dead. But what if she wasn't? Even when she spent only two minutes in agony, what torture must it have been as the life faded from this body? If this woman was afraid of what is going to come? If she wished to hear the voice, feel the touch of a loved one for the last time?

Elijah knew, although he hoped he'd never get into that situation, that he wouldn't have left Katerina's side if something had happened to her which couldn't be fixed in time. Although not overall worried, there had been a time during the search for the cure where she had been alone, potentially having to deal with Silas, a creature his brother Kol was afraid of.

He didn't believe in the nonsense his brother spread about an ancient plague should Silas be released but it had filled him with unease knowing that Katerina had to deal alone with that creature if he were to be real. She wanted to handle this on her own, insisting on it's her part of the deal she needed to fulfill. Nevertheless, he was very relieved when she called him later, telling him she had the cure and everything was alright. But if it hadn't been the case and she returned to him with a hex or something, causing her to suffer, he wouldn't have left her side.

A shake of his head followed as his mind snapped back to reality, his gaze still set on the dark curls spreading out on the treatment table.

He should man up and face reality and either find torture or salvation because it's not her.

He owed her that.

What right has he to delay the knowledge about her fate just to give him a few more minutes of 'what ifs'? To spare him the torture her death would cause him?

None, absolutely none.

And, although he wanted to think otherwise, there's no way to prepare for such a situation. No matter if he wanted a few more minutes or days, it would just hurt as much as it would hurt now.

He gritted his teeth, the muscles jumping in his tensed jaw as he reached out again, his hand trembling to grab the cover and slowly and respectfully pull it down after he had muttered another silent prayer.

His heart beat loud, it drummed in his ears all the while shudders after shudders ran down his spine.

He held his breath when the person's face finally came to light, his heart stopping when he finally could see her.

His legs gave way and he fell to his knees, a single tear managed to find its way over his cheek.

Not because of the shock, but because of relief.

Gasps left his parted lips as the realization settled in, as the relief flooded through his veins.

It's not her! It's not her! There's still a chance she's alive and well. There's still the chance he's going to see her again.

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After he had testified that he did not know the unknown deceased, he was allowed to leave Dr. Johnson's office and made his way through the hospital to go back to his car, his steps lighter than when he first stepped into the building.

The relief that it hadn't been Katerina was still present, spurred him. There's still a chance she's alive and well, as well as someone in her situation can be. There's still hope. He hadn't lost her forever, fate has still granted him a chance to reunite with her and gave him more time to find her although that wasn't an excuse to slow down his search. If anything, he became even more aware of how critical her new situation is. That, if only one other person made a mistake, her life could be ended.

Oddly enough, his thoughts and worries seemed to be confirmed when he needed to stop in his track in order to make room for a nurse that pushed a hospital bed through the hallway, occupied by someone who apparently had broken their leg. His brows furrowed as he watched her vanishing into a room shortly after.

Right after, his phone vibrated on the inside of his chest pocket but when he pulled the phone out and saw who it was, his gaze immediately darkened.

Apparently, good news was always linked with bad ones. Or, in this case, the incapability to accept someone's choice. Elijah didn't even have second thoughts when he pressed the ignore button. If he had to take a guess, the reason for this call is the same one as the previous ones he had ignored already.

It gave him a headache, really, and changed his plan of leaving the hospital immediately, just in case some spies were lurking around outside. With Niklaus, coincidences are hardly possible and the timing of the attempted call had been almost too perfect. He'd follow through with his threat of killing any possible minions he's going to send but after this day, Elijah didn't want to enact violence.

A seating area near the main entrance of the hospital caught his attention and he decided to sit down there and calm down from the anger that was flaring up again.

He closed his eyes and focused on his breath. It angered him that his brother still didn't get the message that he wanted to be left alone but his unbelievable incapability of accepting other's choices shouldn't ruin the day, especially not after what he had gone through when he feared he had lost his love forever.

Lost in thoughts, Elijah pulled out the wallet from inside of his jacket to pick out the picture of Katerina. He was still beyond relieved that the person found dead had not been his Katerina although the worry about her whereabouts and state persisted. Even more so, the relief that managed to suppress all his uneasiness and worries was only short-lived and the guilt and the dread slowly crawled back into this mind and he sighed because he hoped the good feeling he had would have lasted longer.

His gaze flickered over the passport-photograph-sized picture of Katerina that he had kept in his wallet the entire time. This way, he had ensured that a part of her will always be with him although their ways have parted and right now, it's one of the few things he still has of her.

He had never believed that it's going to be so uncertain if they ever going to see each other again. Of course, he had expected that it won't be easy, especially after he had realized that unfortunately, Katerina had interpreted another meaning behind his decision of going to New Orleans. However, he would have never assumed it's going to be uncertain if she's still alive the next time he reaches out for her.

Perhaps she's not in this hospital but who says she's not stored up somewhere else? He quivered at the thought and tried to remind himself that she's smart. That she'd hopefully had found a way, a safe one, to take care of herself.

Nonetheless, the longer he stayed in the hospital and when he had walked through it, Elijah was repeatedly reminded of how fragile human life is. How easily a human can get hurt. How easily they can get sick. He had seen a number of injured humans with bandages who were attached to hospital beds that passed him as he sat in the waiting room. He had smelled the mixture of blood and chemicals that were either pouring out of them or injected into them. He had overheard a conversation about a family father that had passed away. He had seen how overtired some humans, no matter if staff or visitors, had looked like.

Today he realized more than he had ever that humans can get sick, can get hurt. They can catch diseases some have to deal with for years, decades, or the entire life. They don't heal as quickly -- or at all -- if they get hurt. They suffer from pain and uncertainty because no one can help them or know what is happening to them. Some lose all appetite and get weaker and weaker, some cannot keep food in. Some are put into a coma no one knows if they wake up anymore again.

There are so many risks, so many things that could end a normal human life or make it unbearable. Some things can be treated, others can't.

His sister romanticizes humanity to no end but his short stay in the hospital made him realize that being human always meant vulnerability.

He had never been so aware of it, although he deals with humans and values humanity. He even did his best to keep a human side and habits.

But if he has to admit to himself, especially while for the first time really noticing and becoming aware of all the downsides of humanity, he has no idea what it's like to be human. In fact, he doesn't even remember what it's like to be a human being.

He has no idea what it means and he believes, that if he were to be suddenly human again, it would be a shock from which it would be difficult to recover. He wouldn’t know how to deal with such a sudden change. The possibility alone of catching a sinus infection seems to be from another world. Fortunately, he'll never be in that situation.

Katerina, however, is.

He can only imagine how hard it must have been for Katerina to be human again, knowing how much she loved her vampiric nature. How hard it still must be for her to adjust to the new circumstances.

Her health is something Elijah worried about as well. He assumed she doesn't have a functioning and strong immune system because it wasn't needed in the past five centuries. What if she's severely sick and is in treatment?

"Excuse me, sir, can we please have this seat?" a nurse called out and approached him with a limping woman on her arm. In an instant, Elijah raised to his feet and blindly put the picture of Katerina back into his jacket where his handkerchief was, too lost in thoughts to notice that it, in fact, slipped and glided to the ground.

Perhaps the disturbance was much needed anyway to make him become aware that he didn't have a reason to stay in that hospital any longer. He's been in here long enough to bore possible minions Niklaus had sent to spy on him. Katerina is not here, so why should he stay? Strangely enough, however, he had the feeling that he was much closer to the missing brunette in this place than anywhere else. This was probably due to the fact that this place visibly showed him what he feared the most: That his beloved Katerina is hurt, that she needed (medical) help.

And, although he had no part in her becoming human, seeing all the misery in this place, made him blame himself even more. Because if he hadn't left, she wouldn't be in this situation, she wouldn't be human. Of course, it's only an assumption. Perhaps it would have still happened as he didn't know what exactly led to the two doppelgänger's sparring. He doesn't know but at least he would have been present afterward, he could have taken care of her.

Any suffering or damage could have been prevented if he hadn't left.

"Sir? Sir?!"

At first, Elijah did not feel addressed but as the voice came closer, he finally turned around and looked at the nurse that had just brought in the limping woman. She held something tiny in her hands and waved with it.

"Sir, I believed you have lost something. Is it yours?" she questioned and showed him the pic of Katerina. His hand immediately moved up to the pocket in which he had believed to have placed the picture. It wasn't there. Not that he would have needed to check it because he doubted anyone was in the possession of a picture that looked like his picture. It just happened to be a somewhat natural movement.

"Yes, it is mine. Thank you for being so attentive. I wouldn't know what I'd have done without it." he reached out his hand so the nurse could give it back to him but she refused.

"Do you know this woman?", she asked and Elijah frowned, not knowing why she came up with such a personal question.

"Yes, I do. Can I please have the picture back?" he felt uncomfortable seeing that someone else had it. As if he couldn't protect her if someone else was in the possession of her picture. Not that a nurse could do any harm to Katerina if she’s in possession of a picture.

"I know her too...."

"I beg your pardon?", suddenly Elijah's impatience of getting the picture back turned into curiosity and interest. How did she know her? And, did she really know Katherine or does she just somehow know Elena Gilbert?

"Yeah, she was brought in several weeks ago -- perhaps it’s been even two or three months."

Elijah's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he took a quick glance around before he pulled the nurse gently with him to a more quiet place. This was beyond important.

"Define 'brought in'"

"She came in an ambulance. I helped to bring her to Dr. Brown who checked up on her. She was unconscious so we gave her the name 'Elisa' until we found out more."

Elijah absorbed this new, unexpected information, not believing that he just found out about this coincidence. She may have been here. Was that the reason why he felt so strangely connected to this hospital?

"And where is she now?" he impatiently asked, needing to know what has happened to her.

"I don't know. Dr. Brown has his own staff, I'm not responsible for that area."

"Where can I find him?"

"3rd floor, Station C"

Elijah nodded and offered the nurse a smile. "Thank you. I'll make it worth your while," with that, and after taking back the picture, Elijah turned on his heels and quickly moved to the elevator to get to Dr. Brown.

He needed to find out what has happened and where she was. Perhaps, although he feared that would be too much luck, she was still here somewhere.

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It wasn't too hard to find the office of Dr. Brown. In contrary to his first entry into the hospital, Elijah didn't care to ask someone for arranging a meeting with the doctor. Instead, he went straight into the office and even had luck as the doctor was present. His protest was quickly silenced as he compelled the human to be quiet before he compelled him to comply and answer his questions.

"I was told this girl, patient Elisa was brought in this hospital several weeks ago." to underline his words and to make sure the doctor knew of whom he spoke, Elijah showed him the picture of Katerina, earning a nod from him.

"Yes, I remember her. She had been here but several weeks have indeed passed since that."

"Is she still here?"

"Unfortunately, no"

She's not here anymore. Elijah closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to sort his thoughts before he finally took a seat. He'd thought they could leave quickly to go to her but the reality was different. She could be anywhere by now. How comes he's always too late? Nonetheless -- and despite his worries -- his voice and tone remained calm and collected.

"What do you mean by 'unfortunately no'? I was told she was unconscious. What happened to her?"

"I cannot give away personal information to a stranger. Or are you in any kind of relationship with the patient?"

This astonished Elijah because apparently, Dr. Brown was really serious about and devoted to his job, otherwise, it wouldn't have been possible to work around the compulsion and hold information back. However, it also had to be said that perhaps the compulsion wasn't specific enough.

"I’m Elijah Mikaelson and she's my girlfriend. Unfortunately, she’s missing for quite some time by now." The lie left his lips without hesitation. Moreover, the word 'girlfriend' slipped his tongue quite naturally although he knew that they were no longer a couple, that he could no longer address her as his girlfriend or partner.

"I understand. Well, Mr. Mikaelson, under these circumstances I can give information. A moment please." He stood up and left the office only to return with a file two minutes later.

"Miss Forbes was brought in with severe hypothermia. She had collapsed on the streets and was nearly hit by a car. Fortunately, the driver was able to brake in time. She wasn’t responsive when she was brought in and in a state of unconsciousness. When I examined her I noticed that she was slightly malnutrition so we gave her some infusions to help her regain strength."

Elijah listened attentively to the doctor and frowned when he addressed Katerina as 'Miss Forbes'. How did they come up with that name? And what had happened that she'd collapsed and was brought in with severe hypothermia? His concern increased even more and he didn't know how he should put that information together because it confirmed his worst suspicions.

But why isn't she here anymore? If her state was so worse?

"Go on please, I need to know every detail," Elijah stated and leaned slightly forward to intensify the compulsion.

"After she regained consciousness, she had a panic attack and acted aggressively toward the staff. It took some time until we managed to calm her down and convince her that she's in no danger."

Elijah nodded because he can comprehend that it must have been terrifying for her to wake up in entirely new surroundings and somehow it relieved him to know that her natural survival instinct still seemed to be there if she acted so hostile towards the staff.

"She stated that her name was Katherine Forbes and that she wanted to call her sister to come to get her."

His confusion only grew because Katerina had no sister and certainly no remaining family.

"Has she called that sister?" Elijah asked because he needed to know who it was.

"Yes, she has. I also talked to her about the next steps because I wanted to keep her in for a few more days. Somehow, however, Miss Forbes found a way to leave the hospital unauthorized on the fourth night. She has no discharge papers so we cannot take responsibility if anything happens to Miss Forbes."

"And the sister wanted that?"

"No, Miss Katherine Forbes seemed to have acted on her own. Her sister agreed on having her stay a few more days until we're certain that everything's okay."

"What's the name of the sister?"

"Miss Caroline Forbes".

Caroline Forbes.

A blurry memory of a blonde girl found its way to the surface. Elijah didn't remember too much about her but he believed that she had been (or is still) friends with Elena Gilbert. And, if his memory doesn't play tricks on him, he recalled that his brother fancied her presence and companionship the night their mother threw that deceptive ball for their family.

He could not understand the connections. Neither Caroline's Forbes connection with Elena Gilbert nor her questionable connection with Niklaus made any sense in regard to Katerina as Katerina despised both Elena Gilbert and Niklaus. So how comes that Katerina would want to call her of all people?

Elijah tried to dig deeper into his memories about that Forbes girl but couldn't find anything relevant. Truth be told, he hasn't really paid attention to her. She had been an embellishment to his plans and main focus although he remembered that it had puzzled him that Niklaus was so eager on getting the blonde's attention. He could also recall that Niklaus had been keen on staying in Mystic Falls although there was nothing that could hold someone like him there.

Although Mystic Falls hasn't been Elijah's birthplace, it had been the location of his family home. All siblings after him were born there and yet none of them held a too pleasant memory of that time. Rebekah was probably the most sentimental about it but apart from her, none of them really thought much about their human days in Mystic Falls, Niklaus even less.

He didn't question Niklaus's reasons behind staying in Mystic Falls though and he certainly won't start now because it won't bring light into the darkness about Katerina's connection to the Forbes girl.

"I do recall Caroline Forbes. Do you have her number?"

"Yes, it is recorded in the file."

Elijah nodded and decided to call Caroline later on. Hopefully, she knew more about Katerina's whereabouts although he really can't comprehend why the two of them were even in contact. He, however, believed that whatever the reason was, they must have been in contact even longer if Katerina's first doing was addressing herself as Katherine Forbes which implied that she knew exactly what she's doing and that she could count on the other one.

The Original leaned forward, took the file in his hands, and opened it. A few medical terms caught his eye: Hypothermia, malnutrition, hypoglycemia, hypotension. Hematoma, probably because of the accident. A remark about older injuries, including the possibility of sprained ribs in the past, let Elijah frown but it has not been discussed in more detail.

"Allow me a question, Dr. Brown: What was your impression of Katherine and her health?"

Her health was something Elijah did worry about. He was already concerned about how she’s going to survive out there, especially after he learned that she didn’t seem to have money. After he had realized how fast something serious and fatal can happen to a human, however, his concern grew even more.

And apparently, his concerns were justified.

The doctor sighed and folded his hands on top of his desk.

"In all honesty, Mr. Mikaeson, it appeared as if Miss Forbes had a couple of rough weeks. She seemed ... paranoid when we wanted to take her blood to test it in our laboratory. It wasn't the usual fear we see from other patients when it comes to needles or blood, she seemed to not agree on being it taken in the first place. We also have reason to believe that she has suffered violence-," the doctor glanced at him sharply but Elijah ignored it, instead, his frown only deepened, "-domestic abuse perhaps."

Someone had dared to lay a finger on her. Elijah did his best to suppress a snarl.

"Are you implying someone has hurt her?"

"We have reason to believe so, yes. Although we cannot be sure because the marks were already almost healed but she had a whiff of bruises on her neck and arms. As already mentioned, it could be from an old accident perhaps but the location of them implies that it was violence against her."

Elijah inhaled sharply, his hands clenched into fists under the desk. If he learns that someone has hurt her, hell will break loose for that person!

"Anything else which may be relevant?"

"We weren't able to run the necessary tests but I suggest someone should examine her blood, her lungs, and her heart. There seemed to be irregularities but that could also be because she was under a lot of stress lately. I would also recommend a lot of rest until she's healed properly and her levels are back in the green area as well as seeing a doctor soon in order to make sure she doesn’t develop pneumonia."

Elijah nodded, hoping that her condition was better by now because he had no idea why Katerina left the hospital in a hurry despite being told that she needed to stay and rest.

"Thank you for your time, Dr. Brown. Her bills are probably not yet paid so please send them to this address" Elijah gave him the business card of the hotel he's currently staying in but didn't hand back Katerina's file. It's better such valuable information stays with him.

"Mr. Mikaelson?"

Elijah stopped in his trails and turned around once more, having already been on his way to the door.

"I forgot to give you this", Dr. Brown surrounded his desk and handed him a white envelope. "We wanted to give it to the lost property office after Ms. Forbes didn't return to us but somehow it must have been overlooked. Unfortunately, we're often in a hurry and I apologize if it caused any inconvenience. We had to take them off because of the scans."

The Original didn't know what he was talking about but took the envelope without any further inquiry.

"Thank you, Dr. Brown."

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Elijah had pondered when it's going to be the right time to call Caroline Forbes. His impatience said immediately, his reason told him to wait until he's back in his hotel suite. He didn't want to waste time but he also needed to make sure he's calm and collected. Right now, however, he wasn't any of it.

His sorrows are riding rollercoasters. It appears as if he's never going to reach a phase in which everything seems to calm down.

Elijah hasn't studied Katerina's hospital files entirely. In fact, he had only looked for Caroline's number before he's going to indulge in more details of Katerina's report.

Nonetheless, there's something which had struck him and which wasn't good at all. The report was from two months ago, meaning that too much time has passed already to rely on the belief Katerina's still in the area, not to question in what state she is. From what he has gathered and was informed, her state was critical at the time she was brought to the hospital.

However, it's probably better if he focuses on his next step instead of worrying too much about the 'what if's' again. Perhaps Katerina is staying with Caroline by now and all his worries have been for nothing.

Before Elijah called Caroline after he finally arrived back in his suite, he changed. He felt more comfortable in a new suit that didn't smell like a hospital. In fact, his convenience increased which was a good condition for staying focused. And patient. Patience is a trait he seemed to lose the longer his search for Katerina continued although he continuously reminded himself why it's so important to act calm and with patience.

A quick glance at his watch told him that now it's an appropriate time for a serious conversation so he took in a deep breath, reminded himself of his goals and aims, and then tipped in the number of Caroline Forbes.

Mercifully, it didn’t take long until the call was answered.

"Miss Forbes?"

"Who's this?"

The Original exhaled in relief as he recognized the voice of the blonde, although admittedly, the memory of her is almost non-existent. He never thought he'd interact with her or even call her. However, despite the lack of interaction, he's aware that she'll know exactly who he is and that she's going to have reservations about talking to him. Let alone share any possible valuable information. Another reason why he needed to act smart and calm.

"Elijah Mikaelson. I know this must come very unexpected, but I require information you presumably have."

He heard her sucking in a deep breath as she went awfully quiet for a few moments.

"Wait a minute. The Elijah Mikaelson? Where did you get my freakin' number?"

He'd probably be amused by the panic and disbelief in her voice, but the reason for his call is urgent and he can't muster up any amusement.

"The same reason why I called you. It was in Katherine Pierce's medical record. Apparently, she poses as your sister nowadays and I hope you perhaps know where she is now."

Again, silence is filling the line and he could basically hear her thinking. It must come very surprising for her.

"How did you get- ... wait! Why do you think I'm going to tell you anything about Katherine Pierce?"

"I believe we have shared interests. Apparently, you don't want her dead, neither do I."

At least that's what he hoped. Katerina has had a rather troubled past in Mystic Falls, leading to her gathering a few people that weren't exactly fond of her. He hoped that his assumption was right and the relationship between Katerina and Caroline was friendly, although he still can't comprehend how it comes she seemed to trust the blonde as much as to put her on the emergency contact list. If there's anyone who knows about Katerina, it's Caroline Forbes. As unbelievable as it is.

"And I'm supposed to believe that? Even if I had knowledge about anything regarding Katherine, why should I tell you? Aren't you the one who wanted her dead for all her life?"

The accusation came unexpected and he tried to ignore the knot in his gut, his fingers tensing around the phone while he tried his best to remain calm. While he had expected some resistance, he hadn't prepared himself for such an accusation that stirred up anger within him. However, he tried his best to swallow it down and answer neutrally.

"I fear you're confusing me with my brother."

"It's still the same. I was told you locked her in the tomb. Doesn't sound like you're too interested in her well-being."

His fingers cracked as he closed his hand into a fist, his eyes narrowed while he stared out of the window that led to the balcony of his hotel suite. He did not tolerate any false allegations, didn't approve of the lack of respect Caroline voiced. Although she's of course right because he had compelled Katerina to stay in the tomb. However, his main intention had certainly not been letting her rot there. It has been the only place she had been safe from Klaus.

"And now I fear that's where you're wrong. I am concerned about Katherine's well-being, that's why I need to know where she is now."

"Is that how you Mikaelson's think the world works? You snap with your fingers, demand something, and expect you immediately get it?"

He blinked in confusion at her words, not really knowing where that came from. Apparently talking to him from a distance seemed to give her some confidence.

"Miss Forbes ... I appreciate your concern for my intentions regarding the woman known as Katherine Pierce but I assure you the information is needed. I ask you to share every information you have about Katherine's whereabouts."

"I'm not dumb if that's what you thinking. Let's say I have information about Katherine Pierce, why would I want to share it with you? A friend's loyal to their friends, I'm not going to throw her under the bus if she's my friend and I have knowledge about something regarding her life."

He relaxed because although probably not intended, Caroline has just let him know that she indeed has information about Katerina. Otherwise, she wouldn't have mentioned matters of loyalty. And loyalty was something he appreciated, something he was indeed thankful for, especially in that delicate matter.

Elijah knew that it was now up to him to convince Caroline that his intentions were true, that he didn't intend on using the information to harm her. Although that required exposing details he wasn't keen on sharing with everyone. He rather keeps his private life well ... private. However, it was needed if he wanted to find Katerina as soon as possible.

"Katherine and I ... we've been in a relationship shortly before ... before she turned human. It would ease my mind knowing she's doing okay."

There's another pause but he could fill the mood change.

"Oh my god ... you... you and Katherine? How come no one has told me about it? I mean ... you two ... you two don't really fit each other. I mean ... I mean no offense but you're this scary, intimidating, and stoic Original whereas she's this scary but very vivid and fun-loving woman. How can that work out?"

She sounded genuinely surprised which finally elicited a little smile on his lips. It had something pure and admittedly, she hit the nail on the head. Katerina and he were an unlike pairing but -- although he never admitted it out loud -- that was just what he had needed. She completed him in a way he hadn't known, gave him the things he lacked himself.

"I believe Katherine and I have always shared a certain connection. It surprises me the Salvatores didn't lack respect in that matter as they always do."

His tone didn't imply how much he missed her, how much he worries about her. Instead, he focused on the dreadful Salvatores and wondered why they haven't mentioned their little encounter around, especially because usually, they aren't that cautious.

"Wait, they knew about you two? How could I miss those things? But ... but Katherine didn't seem to be in a relationship anymore so you two broke up? Why are you even interested in her anymore? Apparently, you didn't care before?"

His lips pressed together into a thin line and he tried to swallow down the bitter taste on his tongue.

"Look, it's an understatement to say things have been complicated but I am interested in her well-being and it would help me a lot if you could share information if you have any."

"Oh -- so he was right? I swear he only mentioned it because he needed an excuse. It sounded so lied..."

Now Elijah started to frown because he has no idea what she was talking about. Who was 'he'? And what had it to do with his request?

"What are you talking about, Caroline?"

"Klaus. He came to Mystic Falls saying he wants to look for you because you're jumbled and you need to come back."

The color drained from his face at the mention of Niklaus. While it didn't surprise him that his brother attempted another poor try to get him back to New Orleans, it surprised him that he'd chosen Mystic Falls for his search. While Mystic Falls had been their home once, Elijah didn't hold much sentimentality for this place, unlike the rest of his siblings. However, Mystic Falls had been the place where he had told his brother about Katerina and his intentions with her.

"My brother was in Mystic Falls? Has he gathered any information about Katherine?"

"No, I don't think so. I think she was the latest that's been on his mind that day...."

Was she? If he knew anything about his brother, it was his boundless vengeance and need to control. If Katerina were to get into his hands ... No, he didn't want to think about it and could only hardly hold back a growl. Rebekah has assured him that Niklaus doesn't know about Katerina's new status. She wouldn't lie to him about that.

"Are you absolutely certain?"

"Yes! Oh my god, I thought you were the one who values privacy!"

His eyebrows raised in surprise at Caroline's reactions, again puzzled by how this conversation turns and twists.

"Listen, your personal matters are non of my interest," he assured her, suddenly remembering his brother's odd fascination with the blonde. Perhaps that was the reason for this unusual reaction, "All I care about is the whereabouts of Katherine. So, do you have any information or not?"

"Before I tell anything I need to make sure you're telling the truth. Is this the number I can reach you?"

"Yes"

"Then I call you after I verified your words. Bye."

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The ticking of the clock seemed to mock him and his malaise.

A part of him had hoped that Caroline is going to call him back in a matter of a few hours but as time passed, his phone didn't ring once, making him question the blonde's intentions.

What if she doesn't call back?

The solution is simple, although he wasn't particularly fond of the idea. He didn't want to leave and travel to Mystic Falls to compel the truth out of Caroline or anyone else that he gets his hands on, especially because he knew that it's likely they are on vervain which meant he had to wait for 24 hours until it's safe to assume the compulsion works.

Time he wasn't keen on wasting on people who better not dare to show themselves before him because he can't guarantee anything. His nerves and patience are strained to the utmost and he couldn't ensure he won't kill someone, especially if it came to the pesky Salvatore.

He can't risk causing messes right now because his main attention should be set on Katerina and her well-being.

Eventually, he managed to calm his nerves enough to study Katerina's file again because he thought that is going to help him make the right choices if he's going to find her. Furthermore, it may help him to put together the pieces of her journey.

Which, in hindsight, was probably all too optimistic.

But as he browsed through the admission and medical reports, the white envelope that he had put quickly in the file caught his attention again. He recalled the words of Dr. Brown 'we had to take them off because of the scans' but because of the important conversation he had to have with Caroline Forbes, Elijah must have forgotten about it.

He had already noted that the envelope was quite heavy for a simple letter when it was handed over to him and he noticed it again now as he took it in his hands.

Whatever it was, it belonged to Katerina and he wasn't sure if he should open it. If he was even entitled to do so. Although on the other hand, he also wasn't quite entitled to have her medical file in his possession.

Elijah's thumb brushed thoughtfully over the flap as he considered the pros and cons before he simply opened it and peeked into the content.

At first, there was nothing much to see or even identify. Just a pile of silver material. But as he carefully poured the content in his palm, Elijah's eyes widened slightly as he finally realized what it was.

Katerina's daylight jewelry!

He gently detangled the delicate necklace, careful to not break anything until it was neat again before the pad of this thumb brushed over its Lapislazuli pendant.

Although Katerina was no longer a vampire, he assumed that she mourned its loss because it certainly holds some sentimentality in it. It surprised him that Katerina hadn't taken the necklace she sometimes used as a bracelet not with her, perhaps she was in such a hurry that she either forget it or wasn't able to find it immediately. He remembered that she didn't take it off even once, not even when she was showering or taking an almost impressive long bath in the middle of the night. Something which was quite understandable because daylight jewelry is rare and especially someone like Katerina was dependent on having it as it made it possible to travel during the daytime.

Elijah watched the necklace in his hands a while longer, feeling so connected to Katerina as he had never felt before. It was different than looking at photos because this necklace is actually something that belonged to Katerina, which was a part of her.

For a short moment, Elijah wondered if this necklace would allow him to detect her whereabouts but as thrilling as the idea seemed to be, he didn't want to hand it over to a witch, potentially having it destroyed or damaged, especially not now after he had a good lead with Caroline Forbes. Furthermore, spells didn't seem to be all too clear when it came to Katherine Pierce.

Nonetheless having it with him now held importance to Elijah, even managed to bring a little smile forth as he took another paper and wrapped the necklace carefully around it so it won't get tangled again before he put it back into the envelope.

Elijah is going to make sure it's going to return to her and until then, he's keeping it safe for her.

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Two whole day have passed and it was already late in the night as Elijah's phone suddenly vibrated. The Original wasn't asleep yet (sleep was something which in general didn't seem to find him), instead, he was focused on a book of human healing arts.

Of course, he had hoped, wished, that it was Caroline that finally called him back, unfortunately, however, that wasn't the case.

It was his sister.

Elijah debated if he should answer the call or not as he had no real desire to talk to his family, knowing already how their conversation is going to turn out. In the end, however, he decided to answer the call.

"Yes?"

"Elijah! Thank god. I feared something happened to you."

"I appreciate your concern, dear sister, but just because I chose radio silence doesn't mean something has happened to me", although she's right, of course. It wasn't like him to cancel all contacts with his family. Usually, being silent meant that their brother has stuffed them in a coffin.

"Have the two of you still not made peace?", Rebekah asked, and although she didn't mention any names, Elijah was aware that she was talking about Niklaus and him.

"As I've already told our brother, forgiveness is earned. Right now he still doesn't seem to understand the concept.", Elijah simply retorted, having his brother's several annoying attempts of luring him back to New Orleans in mind.

"Is it really just because he daggered you? Because I know I am tearing furious if he does it with me but it's been months and you aren't the unforgiving sibling if it comes to Nik."

Elijah exhaled, his gaze fixed on the open sides of the book he had previously read.

"Our brother needs to learn that there are consequences for his treacherous actions, that his siblings are no deposit for him to use as he wishes." Of course, there was more to it because Niklaus' actions had resulted in Elijah's current search for his beloved, always having to fear that he's coming too late, that she's forever lost to him. And just as if his sister could read his mind, she made the conclusion of the real reasons.

"Please don't tell me you've decided to take your time off because you're still after Katherine. Our family finally has the chance to start new, to have an almost human experience."

"What if I do prefer my own luck for once?"

"With that manipulative wench? Elijah please, she can't possibly be the one who finally makes you desire a life without being chained to Klaus. She'll burn you."

Elijah's gaze darkened and he clenched his free hand to fist.

"Watch your language, Rebekah.", his voice is calm but there's obvious disapproval in his tone. And he meant it. If his sister is going to continue to insult Katerina, he'll end their conversation.

"But it's true. You're being blinded by something that probably doesn't even exist. When she was still in Mystic Falls, she was pretty much focused on getting back into Stefan Salvatore's pants."

Elijah can't deny that a wave of jealousy swept through his veins, along with a hint of pain as he imagined the two of them together. The muscle in his jaw jumped at the thought that perhaps, Katerina preferred someone else.

"Well, Katherine can organize her private life the way she wants. I'm hardly in a position to judge her for her choices."

"Then what do you want from her?"

Yes, what did he want from her? Of course, he wanted to make sure that Katerina is safe and fine. He didn't want her to be scared and have no idea how she's supposed to survive the next day. However, there were also more selfish reasons why he needed to find her. Elijah needed Katerina. He needed her in his life to make it worthwhile. And yes, he wanted, hoped, to get her trust and perhaps even her love back.

This is, however, something that's none of Rebekah's concern so he chose to simply ignore her question and picked another topic.

"How's Hope?"

"Oh, she's doing fine. You can't believe what a lovely baby she is. I could kiss and cuddle her all time," Rebekah stated and Elijah relaxed because apparently, Rebekah let go of the previous topic. Furthermore, it relieved him to know that everything was okay with his little niece.

"I wish I could be a part of her life and see her but it's safer the way if she stays with you." Yes, Rebekah taking care of their niece somewhere far away and safe was the better option, although it filled him with regret that he wasn't there for Hope as he should be.

"Someday you're able to visit, Elijah. I really believe in that. Things just have to settle down in New Orleans so she can return to her parents." Elijah's lips pulled upwards at the thought because he is actually looking forward to finally meeting his niece properly.

"There's something else I wanted to ask you..." Elijah's eyebrows furrowed at his sister's question, hoping that she won't come to the Katerina topic again.

"Please go on"

"I was thinking about our family lately. About our siblings both alive and unfortunately already deceased." Elijah had honestly no idea where Rebekah's sudden interest in digging into their past came from. However, he continued to listen to her words.

"There's one sibling I never met, one who was hardly mentioned. I don't even know their name...."

It took some time until Elijah remembered that there was indeed another sibling. One he had also never met, despite being older than Niklaus and Rebekah.

"Mother mentioned we had an older sister. She must have died because of a disease, a plague, somewhere before I was born. Apparently, her death was the reason why our parents decided to settle over to the New World after I was born" These were old stories, so old that it certainly didn't cross his mind nowadays. Oddly enough, she must have been loved dearly by their father, and perhaps it explains why Mikael was way fonder of Rebekah than he was of his (biological) sons. It surprised him that Rebekah suddenly harbors any interest in such old stories.

"But do you know her name?"

Her question let Elijah frown even more because despite wanting to recall their older sister's name, nothing came into his mind.

"Our parents didn't like to speak about her. Actually, I don’t remember them ever talking about her any longer." Their older sister seemed to be some kind of red flag for their parents. "Is there any reason why you want to know?"

"No, Elijah. Just curiosity."

The older Original squinted his eyes slightly, something telling him that there was a reason why Rebekah had asked about their late older sister. He knew that Finn as the oldest had known their older sister but he also never spoke about her. Elijah had never questioned that, perhaps he should have. Now, however, it's too late.

He’s thought about it for a long time, even after his conversation with his sister had ended because he couldn't shake the feeling that something was odd about her request for information. He couldn't explain it, however, although he could also not tell the reason for her question.

He has been separated from his family for some time now, although, measured by their lifetime, it seemed like a mere few seconds. Elijah didn't know what Niklaus was up to, didn't know what his siblings had going on although it would be smarter to not attract attention for their niece's sake. There's certainly something going on and Elijah wished he would know what it was although he'd rather brush it off as a mere interest in family stories. Perhaps spending time with a baby and allowing it to take care of it had changed Rebekah's view on family. He certainly hoped it would.

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Another day had passed without any call back from Caroline Forbes and Elijah started to become restless because time passed without him doing anything. Something he considered as fatal because he knew how precious time was nowadays, that even a minute can make a difference. He also couldn't comprehend what took the blonde so long to verify his words because firstly, he wasn't a liar, and secondly, his relationship with Katerina seemed to have been a topic of conversation. Although he wasn't too keen on making such personal matters public, he knew that unfortunately, many people seemed to think they're allowed to have an opinion about it, even dared to question his sanity.

Elijah wasn't capable of sitting still at his desk and focusing on the lecture in front of him (another book about healing arts). His eyes flickered to his watch every few minutes while at the same time, he thought about the given possibilities. Perhaps traveling to Mystic Falls and using compulsion is the best opinion. Perhaps he should consider using Katerina's necklace. Perhaps he should call one of his witches. Perhaps he should just go on searching in the blind. Perhaps...

The vibrating of his phone tore him out of his thoughts and finally caused him to stop from his restless wandering around in his suite. Without any hesitation, perhaps even impatiently, he answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Elijah?"

The Original exhaled in relief as he recognized Caroline's voice.

"Yes, you're having the right number, Miss Forbes. I assume you could verify my words right now?" he asked politely although his impatience ascended into the Immeasurable.

"Yes, I had. And sorry for the wait. I had to develop a tactic. Can't possibly go to Stefan and ask what had happened while they were away searching for the cure and if he can confirm Elijah and Katherine were a thing." By the tone of her voice, Elijah could tell she seemed to be amused by the thought of it. But there's also a prouder tone swinging in her words because apparently, she enjoyed having been successful in her 'detective' work. At the mention of Stefan Salvatore, however, Elijah couldn't ignore the memory of what his sister had told him about Katerina and her apparent desire for the younger Salvatore. He refused to believe it, of course, but the slight hint of jealousy couldn't be denied.

"Surely then you can grant me my desired information about Katherine's whereabouts?"

"Yes, I can. Although I still can't understand why you want to know now. Wanting to know she's safe or not. Which is actually kinda cute, I suppose." Elijah's eyebrows raised in surprise mixed with confusion at Caroline's words because it was unexpected to hear such a thing. Nevertheless, it's not what he had hoped to hear and he'd be thankful if she could quit the chitchat now and get to the point.

"Caroline, the location please..."

"Oh right ... Katherine told me she's staying with someone in Charleston, near White Point Garden."

"Do you have a name?"

"No, unfortunately not. But it's an older woman, apparently."

Elijah's eyes widened slightly at the mention of an older woman, being reminded of the locator spell done so many months ago which had shown him an elderly woman. Is that the same person? It can't possibly be because Katerina had been spotted at other places after he had started his search. If she had planned to go to Charleston the entire time, why hadn't she chosen a different route? The shortest path wouldn't have led over Charlotte or Columbia and everything that's in between, including that dreadful gas station.

The Original exhaled and pinched the bag of his nose as he tried to sort his thoughts.

"And do you know if she's still staying there?"

"No, I don't. Katherine's not exactly the type of person who gives daily updates. But I assume she's still in that area because she hasn't told me anything about moving. But I don't even know if it's right to tell you anyway, you know? Katherine hasn't told anyone but me, not even ...."

"Yes?"

"Well.... she hasn't even told Stefan. "

"I see....", although Elijah understood nothing. He hadn't been aware that apparently, Stefan Salvatore seemed to hold such a big part in Katerina's life. But now both Rebekah and Caroline have mentioned the younger Salvatore independently of each other and he wondered if perhaps it's true what his sister had said: That Katerina had moved on.

Not that this new revelation would change anything about his mission because he still sought to find her and offer her his help in this difficult situation she was in. Nonetheless, he can't deny the sting in his heart to know that perhaps, Katerina had given her heart to someone else, to someone who can't possibly value her.

Stefan Salvatore and the doppelgänger Elena Gilbert always seemed to be an unmatchable team. He doubted Stefan's interest in Katerina -- if there even was any -- is wholehearted, therefore he can't comprehend why Katerina should be so keen on getting the younger Salvatore's attention.

"I'll make sure she won't find out from where I've gathered the piece of information. You don't have to worry about possibly betraying her trust in you," Elijah spoke and meant it, especially because he started to consider the blonde vampire as a reliable source of information. He certainly won't shy away from using every detail he can get in order to find Katerina.

"Thank you. And Elijah?"

"Yes?"

"I can't believe I'm really saying this because she certainly can be a big bitch but ... don't hurt her. I came to like her and I don't want her to get hurt."

"You have nothing to fear, Miss Forbes. As I've already told you, it's not my intention to harm Katherine."

"That's not what I meant...."

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After having pondered about Caroline's words and the obvious meaning behind them, as well as getting other things done, Elijah started to pack his things, having a new destination in mind.

"Please bring the bags in my car, will you?" he ordered and didn't look up when the people of the hotel's staff grabbed the bags and his suits that were neatly packed in protective garment covers.

It's drawing outside, the sun is just about to rise and Elijah was ready to hopefully start the last part of his journey in his search for Katerina. He had showered and shaved. His entire appearance looked impeccable, ready to meet Katerina again.

As soon as he had finished the call with Caroline, he had ordered a few of his people to travel to Charleston in South Carolina with the order to look for a house inhabited by an old lady with flowers on the outside of the window. That's what he had remembered from the vision giving to him by his witch in Lafayette. Of course, he's aware that there're going to be plenty of homes to which the conditions would apply, but Elijah hoped he'd find it fast. And with a population of about 135.000 people, it's definitely gonna take some time. At least he had a rough direction, knowing that apparently the old lady is settled somewhere in the south of Charleston.

Elijah folded the map of the area that laid in front of him neatly after he had studied its structure. Then, he carefully took the white envelope with Katerina's necklace in his hands and placed it into the left inside of his suit jacket. He's going to make sure nothing happens to Katerina's daylight jewelry until he's having the opportunity to give it back to her.

Then, he switched off the lights and left his hotel suite, knowing that he's going to be in Charleston and therefore closer to Katerina in not even two hours.

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A/N: I hope you've liked this enormous chapter and are excited for the next one. Do you think Caroline told the truth? And how do you think is Elijah going to handle meeting Katherine again? What will he do? Will he talk to her right after he finds her? I'm also not sure if I should continue to write in Elijah's POV as I come to like it or should switch back to Katherine's POV. What do you think? Please consider leaving feedback as it keeps my muse for writing alive.♥

#kalijah #katherine pierce #elijah mikaelson #tvd #tvd ff #fanfiction #ff #katherine x elijah #elijah x katherine #katherine stan club #elijah stan club #in another life #ial 8

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akatsuki-celeste · 3 years ago

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I can feel my anxiety medication wearing off so before I re-up it, because if ever there was a day that I just need to keep it going - I feel the need to scream into the void first.

I haven’t talked about my personal life that much save for a few depressive, anxiety-fueled rants before, and maybe this is just one more of those but longer. But today was the last day in a long saga of days that has just made me....really question *everything*. It’s probably the closest I’ve ever felt to being absolutely done.

So the last year and a half has been quite the roller coaster and occasional hell for me, as I imagine it has been for everyone else on the planet. Everyone has their own 2020 story to tell, everyone’s is important, so I haven’t made a huge deal out of mine. I’m luckier than most. So this isn’t a post where I’m going to go on and on about how rough I’ve had it, etc, etc. This is just going to be about...me. The facts, as seen by me.

In March 2020, my work began efforts to roll out a remote work plan that I qualified to start early due to being immunocompromised thanks to a fun little auto-immune disease called ulcerative colitis. I’ve been diagnosed since I was 18, so basically half my life, and the medication I had been on then, Remicade, was one I’d been using for the last decade with absolutely no issues except maybe I get really tired and like naps afterwards. All of that went smooth. I felt relieved that I, at least, was going to be at home. One of my roommates, also a co-worker, was able to work out the same situation so we didn’t even need to deal with transportation for her until the official lockdown.

And then a week - possibly less, my memory is hazy - my roommates (my then-best friend and her brother) got into a screaming fight of such epic proportions that I had an actual mental breakdown in the middle of (first for me). I remember hiding in my room with my laptop - I was still trying to work for some reason, I do remember eventually telling my boss I had a family emergency so I could log off - I remember calling my mother in a panic, and then I remember waking up at my parents’ house about 6 hours later and finding out that my mother had told my former roommates to gtfo, which I did not attempt to rescind (not at the time, because apparently I was there when it happened but I don’t remember this, and not later) because I knew living with them was no longer feasible for a number of reasons which I will not go into. I’m still dealing with five years of mental abuse and trauma on that one.

By the first week of April they were gone, and I was able to busy myself for the next few months with making my place habitable for one person again, which was a good distraction. And then September came around and I started to notice these, well, patches on my skin. At first I thought it was just eczema or dry skin irritation, it happens sometimes. But with each month they got worse and worse, until December finally rolls around and the only conclusion anyone can come up with is that my trusty Remicade, which had successfully kept my UC in check for a decade, had finally decided to stop playing nice with my body and I was having a “psoriasis-like” reaction. So for the first time in a long while I was starting the medication shuffle again, steroid creams and a new UC medication that took nearly 4 months to get approved. I’m still not recovered even though I’ve been off of Remicade for 7 months now. It takes 6 months for that stuff to fully work its way out of a system, so the reactions didn’t stop until a few weeks ago and I’m still struggling to heal. I’d say it’s about 75% better than it was, but showers still suck, pants also suck, and I can’t tolerate temperatures higher than 70 degrees (hi summer, you suck). Also during this time I got the COVID vaccine (woo!) but seriously, if not for remote work I probably would have lost my job. I used up most of my sick leave in the beginning of the year because I couldn’t move without pain, even to sit at the computer for 8 hours. I also have a ton of PTO, but my boss told me that I couldn’t necessarily use it for sick leave (news flash for me) and again, could lose my job if I tried to use it too much. So trigger my anxiety. A lot.

Fast forward. In one week my office is reopening for 50% capacity, which apparently means to upper management that we have to all work 3 days a week in office, 2 days remote, which doesn’t match the math but whatever. They’ve also stopped screening temperatures, have nixed the social distance requirement, and are only requiring masks for the unvaccinated - but aren’t requiring anyone to say whether they are or not. Needless to say, not exactly the best reassurance for my still-immunocompromised ass, not to mention the dress code will murder my skin. So I ask about continuing remote work and get told I need an ADA accommodation. Okay. I get the paperwork and pass it on to my GI; I was already on FMLA for my UC, figured this wouldn’t be that different.

Except my GI has refused to sign the paperwork, saying there’s no medical reason for me to continue remote work. Despite still not being recovered from the skin reaction I got back in December from the Remicade, despite finding information that Remicade potentially interferes with the vaccine, I’ve been told to just adhere to social distancing and mask-wearing despite my employer not requiring that of anyone else. And with all the information about the delta variant coming out.... yeah, I’m scared. Probably paranoid, probably anxious. I have no idea how I’m going to get through a work day without having to medicate and I won’t be able to function if I have to do that. i see my psych before RTW-Day, but only a few days before.

My last chance is that the dermatologist I’m seeing on Wednesday might be able to fill it out based on my condition, but at the moment I’m in a cycle of panic that I’m going to be told it’s Not That Bad and not get taken seriously. Which is a feeling I’ve been having a lot lately. I know it’s partly the depression and anxiety ramping itself up, but I just don’t know what to do now. All I want to do right now is press the restart button. Sell my place, relocate to a new place so radically different from where I am now that I can’t even compare it, start over. Get a puppy, write a novel, not be in $33k worth of debt. This wasn’t where I’d hoped to be at 36, and now it feels like it’s going to be another 5-6 years before I can get there. If I can get there. It seems like another lifetime.

Anyway. That ends my void screaming. TLDR, I have to start working in the office again in a week, I’ve been told by my GI that my auto-immune disease doesn’t qualify me for an ADA accommodation to keep working from home, my anxiety is now living with me instead of me living with it, and my last shot is a dermatologist I’ve never met before.

#personal #anxiety #depression #immunocompromised #COVID #psoriasis #but not exactly psoriasis #Remicade #ulcerative colitis #someone please just get me out of here

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llunawrites · 6 years ago

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REALLY A SESSION? | Loki Laufeyson

Prompt: None

Summary: THIS IS DAY FOUR. After joining the Avengers, Loki is subjected to mandatory therapy. He was reluctant, but he wasn’t expecting you.

Warnings: Nothing really, just fluff, a bit of Avengers conflict again, a bit all over the place I’m sorry xx

Word count: 1048 (wow this is what writing at 2 in the morning can get you)

DAY ONE DAY TWO DAY THREE

Day Four

After the nice day you and he had out in the streets of New York, Loki had been spending more time with you outside of sessions. He found himself going to you when he was upset or angry at someone. He’d sit on your couch and listen to you talk and ask him minor questions such as what he had for breakfast, and he’d do this while absentmindedly drifting his hand across the paper of his sketchbook. After an hour or so of this, he found he wasn’t as angry as he was originally.

You would invite him to watch movies or introduce him to your music. A lot of these visits were always calm and comfortable, something Loki had never really had but had definitely craved now that he did.

It was almost routine by now, he’d appear on your floor of the tower every afternoon and the two of you would have lunch and find some sort of activity to engage in.

Once, while you were making some movie snacks you told him to go sit in his spot on the couch and that you would join him in a moment. It was incredible how happy that sentence made him feel.

His spot on the couch.

He had a spot, a place, somewhere to belong.

Sometimes he would get there super early, which he decided to do more often once he saw you sleepily roaming the kitchen with a fluffy blanket around your shoulders, insisting that you would make him some breakfast.

He started wearing more laid back clothes, and the fluffy socks that you bought for him (though he wore dark black dress shoes to try and cover up the fact that they were lime green. It didn’t work.). He became more loose.

Loki was polite. Not only to you, to a few of the interns in the building as well. He’d send his signature cunning smiles to everyone he saw. His brother, Thor had sometimes joined him in walking around the halls before Loki joined you on your soft couch. The funny thing was, he didn’t mind these moments spent with the blonde as he normally did. He actually liked them.

Problem was, he wasn’t showing this same assured personality to the rest of the Avengers.

Not surprising, the rest of the team still doubted him and, as it seems had started doubting you.

Tony would constantly look for updates on Loki’s behaviour. To which, you would ignore saying he was your patient and you weren’t allowed to spill details unless it was to director Fury.

Steve would try to sweet talk it, he’d bring you a coffee and casually bring up the conversation. He would ask how spending time with the trickster god was. You would give a short one word answer and then go off to talk about a dog you had seen earlier that morning.

Natasha never really cared and Clint was with his family most of the time, so he wasn’t ever around to ask. Bruce was a bit wary, but had more trust in your abilities than Loki’s.

So it was just the man of iron and the man out of his time.

Apparently, they had been so worried that they did contact director Fury. Which led to a little investigation where Tony searched through the ‘therapy room’ footage. Doing this, they realized that you hadn’t even touched on the fact that he tried to take on the world. All you had been asking were stupid little questions.

So, they held an Avengers meeting. Fury, Loki and yourself included. Tony was almost steaming asking you what you were trying to do, steering away from the attack and only asking Loki what sort of hair product he used.

Steve was also asking, why would you agree to be his therapist if you weren’t going to do your job.

Everyone else in the room listened closely for your reply. Especially Loki, who was just as curious as they were.

You took a sharp breath, ready to unleash hell upon anyone that would question you. You started with the fact that yes, you weren’t asking questions about the attack but how many therapists before went for that angle and came up dry. You knew, going in there you had already known what to expect. You had already diagnosed him.

They only gazed at you, confused as to what kind of diagnosis he had other than clinically insane.

You however, didn’t mind them. You looked directly into Loki’s eyes instead. You told them.

His diagnosis was that he was incredibly lonely. Understandable, as he was a rare kind of being. Rare beings often find it difficult to find friends, especially when they don’t even have a family.

Thor objected to this but you silenced him quickly.

Because when was the last time Loki really felt like he had a family.

You told them, you went into that office armed with a smile and a million get-to-know-you questions. You took interest in his interests, you payed attention to his emotions.

Who else on the team could say they had given Loki that same chance.

Not one of them.

And with that you informed them that he was in fact making great progress. He’d no longer be as vicious toward people, he preferred to sit silently in his spot of the warm couch in your flat and sip at his favourite cup of tea while you told stories.

When you had finally finished your ranting behaviour, stating that Loki had only needed a friend, Tony looked exasperated and Steve looked mildly understanding. Fury watched you with his one good eye proudly. He knew that putting you in this position was the right decision, and you delivered with flying colours. He even claimed that Loki would no longer see a therapist, for it was no longer mandatory. He then walked out without so much as a goodbye.

Loki was partly confused at everyone’s very human lives and decisions but was nonetheless happy when you gently grabbed hold of his arm and told him about a new movie you wanted him to see.

For now, he was just awaiting each day and greeting it with excitement knowing it would be another day spent with you.

So it isn’t incredible, it’s a bit all over the place but I quickly ran out of ideas for how to continue sessions.

I decided I would just end it the way I had wanted to. So! Day four is officially ending the Therapy session series, I kinda want to work on another series but I wanna keep it in the works until the whole thing is finished, so i don’t feel any pressure to get them out and all of it turning out crap. I will be doing just random imagines in between that time though, so look for those. ALSO please request, I’m not great at coming up with ideas and honestly I want to see what situations other people can think of. Also, this was written at 2 am but I scheduled it to come out at 8 am bc I know my friend has my post notifications turned on lmao.

I want to thank the people that supported this so fiercely, thank you all so much and again, I’m sorry to leave on such an anticlimactic note. I may do a few parts of this such as other days reader and Loki experienced but I think this idea is a bit tired.

Hope you enjoyed, love you guys xx 💕

Tags:

@arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @try-again-try-harder

#loki laufeyson reader insert #loki drabble #loki reader insert #loki imagine #loki x reader #loki #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson drabble #please request #request #therapy session

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statusquoergo · 5 years ago

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Part I

Back with Samantha and Lucas, we’re getting right into the unofficial PTSD diagnosis with all of Samantha’s usual tact and subtlety (“You have PTSD, don’t you?”). Lucas denies it, claiming that he went to an MD while he was on tour and begged him not to put the diagnosis in his file, resulting in his being diagnosed with and medicated for anxiety and sent on his merry way with the hope and expectation (Lucas’s, not the doctor’s) that it would clear up all on its own once he got out of the military. Of course, it did not, and Samantha’s solution is to get someone other than his (now former) employer to “pay.” I assume for treatment.

I have a few problems with this whole scenario.

For one thing, it doesn’t make any logistical sense; it sounds like Lucas is well aware that he has PTSD, but is desperate to avoid that specific diagnosis for some reason. He has no problem going to a doctor for psychoactive medication, but dammit, he does not have PTSD. The thing is that while a diagnosis of PTSD, or anxiety, for that matter, would have prevented him from enlisting in the military, and should have prohibited him from continuing to serve, research data suggests that many are skirting the rules; if PTSD could have gotten him kicked out, anxiety should have carried the same risks, and either way, a diagnosis was unlikely to do him any actual harm. Or much good.

For another thing, from a narrative perspective, this probably sounds terrible of me but I genuinely do not care about Lucas, or his problems. I’ve never heard of him before and I just met him like twenty minutes ago, and all I’ve picked up in that time is that he not only didn’t seek treatment for his illness but actively avoided it, despite seemingly knowing and acknowledging, at least privately, the reality of it; it sounds like his employer did his best to accommodate him (e.g., rearranging the furniture in his office so that his back wouldn’t face the door) but was completely justified in letting him go. The script ticks off the usual PTSD symptoms—flashbacks, nightmares, aggression, trouble sleeping, trouble getting out of bed—but this is all the usual Suits MO of telling without showing. (No seriously, it literally ticks them off in a list: “Of course I saw a doctor.” “And why was that?” “Because I had trouble sleeping.” “Because of nightmares, flashbacks?” “I don’t wanna talk about this.” “Well, we’re gonna talk about it because I can’t defend you if you’re not being honest with me.” “Honest about what? About how there are nights I’m afraid to close my eyes and days I never get out of bed?”)

The problem is that the show puts much more focus on Samantha trying to win Lucas’s case than it does on demonstrating the difficult position Lucas is in, or the allegedly close relationship the two of them have (or had); she keeps insisting that he’s suffering, that she feels bad for getting out of the service while he stayed for two more tours, but we don’t spend enough time with him for me to see it, and they don’t seem to have much more camaraderie than, say, Harvey and Teddy Doyle, his old client who shows up in “Inevitable” (s07e13) to ask for his help. I keep being told to empathize with Lucas, or maybe feel anger at what he’s suffering through, but I just…don’t. It feels more like the show is capitalizing on an increasing public awareness of PTSD as a legitimate disorder and is banking on viewers having some reflexive response to the words being thrown around; “anxiety,” check, “nightmares,” check, “flashbacks,” check. But in reality it’s so much more complicated than that, and the symptoms can be so varied beyond what people have been taught to expect. And this may all boil down to my hypersensitivity to PTSD stories being told right, but this one is done so, so poorly that I’m really annoyed by it more than anything.

On a lighter note, Harvey approaches Thomas to take the firm back as his representation, thereby avoiding the need for Faye to meet with him about his departure. Harvey lays out his “Yes we asked you to perjure yourself but technically if I’d followed the law you would’ve lost out on your expansion” argument (well done, sir), and Thomas…brings it all back around to Donna. Who is she to Harvey? Why, she’s the most important person in his life, he claims monotonously with deadness in his eyes, and furthermore, she knows it. Thomas agrees to hire them back on the condition that Harvey represents him instead of Alex, on the grounds that Harvey just honestly answered “the most difficult question [Thomas will] ever ask,” and all is forgiven. Well, that was easy.

Faye sees through Samantha’s bullshit story about taking Lucas’s case before Faye showed up and forbids her (I’m just going with it now) from using firm resources to work on it, so naturally Samantha asks Katrina if she can use her expense account. Katrina, being of sound mind, refuses; Samantha bemoans the fact that Lucas has PTSD while she wears expensive dresses and has a good job, and Katrina, having apparently lost her marbles all of a sudden, agrees to help on the condition that they do it “on the up-and-up, and pick a fight [they] can win.” Not at all sketchy.

Harvey drops the bomb on Alex about Thomas, Faye has what I’m going to call a bonding moment with Katrina, and we’re back to Camp Darvey for a late-night chat.

So in the last episode, I was none too pleased about the writers taking Rick Sorkin and trying to make it into a Darvey thing, but they’re really dead set on going for the jugular here as Harvey boasts that he always makes it feel like everything’s gonna be okay because…he’s Superman. Recall, if you will, this lovely observation of Louis’s from “The Arrangement” (s03e01): “[Harvey] always was [alone]. Harvey’s not Superman anymore. He’s Batman. And Batman needs Robin.” Now tell me with a straight face that they’re not Darvey-fying everything Marvey.

Next up, Faye derails Louis’s attempt to tell the associates that her presence is a non-issue and Alex interrupts him yelling at Benjamin for not hacking the Bar’s password-protected digital bylaws (again, freely available), and Alex and Louis decide to relieve some stress by going bowling, because why not. Louis hasn’t tried it since he was a kid and his fingers were too fat to fit in the holes, but once he starts imagining Faye’s face on the pins (top-notch CGI here, truly), it turns out he’s a natural, and the guys have some cute bonding time as the writers finally manage to fit Dulé Hill’s tap dancing ability into the script.

Meanwhile, Samantha’s case hits a bit of a snag as she tries to bully the CEO, whose name is apparently Tom, into admitting that he knew Lucas had PTSD and didn’t get him treatment (conveniently forgetting the part where Lucas specifically avoided a PTSD diagnosis because he didn’t want treatment) and Tom points out that doing so would require an official diagnosis, which Lucas doesn’t want (there it is). Samantha bitches to Katrina that the company’s $25,000 offer is too low and she wants to exhort a higher settlement, and Katrina seems to regain her lost marbles enough to point out that Samantha’s emotional involvement is blinding her to the fact that what Lucas really needs is treatment, and this isn’t the way to get it.

We’re back to Louis being awkward as he tries to tell Donna how happy he is for her and Harvey— Well, he’s thrilled for her but even happier for Harvey, because she’s “the best thing that’s ever happened to him.” I’m officially convinced that a threesome with Harvey and Donna is somewhere near the top of Louis’s bucket list. Also that Louis and Donna would be a way better couple than Harvey and Donna.

But I digress! Turns out Thomas hiring them back wasn’t so easy, because he can’t actually handle being Harvey’s client when he’s apparently not quite so much over Donna, so Donna takes it upon herself to fess up to Faye about why he really left.

Almost.

She does sort of gloss over the part where he left because Harvey made him lie at the deposition, implying instead that he left the first time around for the same reason he left the second, i.e., they were a couple and now they’re not. Faye buys it, and I’m a little disappointed in her, but I doubt Samantha is over Robert’s name being taken down, so maybe there’s hope it’ll come up again later.

Samantha informs Lucas of the result of the not-a-lawsuit, namely that he’s being awarded $25,000 and also that she invented a company to contract to SW Industries for $100,000 for a year’s worth of treatment for him, which he’s suddenly tearfully willing to admit that he needs, and this is such a hollow storyline that now I’m just offended.

A small saving grace comes in the form of Faye grilling Louis for getting Benjamin to hack the Bar’s (freely available) bylaws and delivering the truly inspired accusation that the firm is populated by “a bunch of wild dogs running around, defecating all over the legal standards [they] swore to uphold,” which I would dearly love to see become this season’s tagline.

Donna and Harvey put a damper on things by contemplating celebrating having successfully lied to Faye by breaking out the can opener, but thank god they’re interrupted by Louis loudly trying to fire Benjamin for getting caught doing the exact thing Louis directed him to do. Donna and Harvey storm the…IT department, I guess, to stop Louis from acting crazy, and let me tell you, the Darvey red flag that’s raised here is big and it is bright.

I’ve been worried for awhile about Harvey losing his agency and sense of self once he enters into a relationship with Donna, and this is a great example of why. Donna tries to stop Benjamin’s termination by putting it to a vote, Louis says that the hiring and firing of support staff isn’t subject to a vote (I’m inclined to agree), and Donna furiously retorts: “The hell it isn’t! Right, Harvey?”

Right here is a perfect encapsulation of Donna’s habit of using Harvey’s affection for her against him (see again the COO example [s07e02]). They’re in the middle of an argument where she has no standing, and rather than try a different tactic, or try to convince Louis to come around to her side, she turns to Harvey to back up her original point. And he does it, promptly replying “Right” (despite the fact that she is probably not in fact right). Louis, thankfully, accuses Harvey of siding with Donna because he doesn’t want her to be mad at him now that they’re together, Donna claims that that’s ridiculous, and Harvey’s anguished expression and refusal to answer immediately validate all of my concerns. And I hope they follow this up in the coming episodes, I truly do, because this is a very real issue that’s been oncoming for a very long time.

Then Faye corners Louis in his car and stops him firing Benjamin and strips him of his status as managing partner, but like…whatever. The promo indicates that he tries to resign, but he’s done that before and we’ve only just started the season, so I don’t know that it’s going to stick.

#suits usa #season 9 #s09e02 #analysis

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themyskira · 6 years ago

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The Life of Captain Marvel - issue #1

So here we are. Issue #1 of The Life of Captain Marvel, the miniseries that was touted as a bold new origin story that would change everything we thought we knew about Carol Danvers.

And it starts strong by exploiting family violence, trauma, mental illness and traumatic brain injury for melodramatic effect, with no intention of dealing with any of these complex themes in any depth or sensitivity.

For all that, infuriatingly little actually happens in this first issue. No exaggeration, the issue actually includes a stretch of nine months wherein Carol essentially does nothing except mope and grow her hair out. The dang plot doesn’t even arrive until the final seven pages.

Content warning: This issue begins with a flashback to Joe Danvers verbally abusing and hitting his kids. I haven’t included any images, but I talk at some length about Margaret Stohl’s abysmal handling of themes of abuse and family violence. Just a heads up.

The story opens on a flashback to an idyllic childhood holiday in Harpswell, Maine. There’s a montage of Carol and her brothers flying kites, wrestling each other, splashing in the water and stuffing their faces with candy, while adult Carol muses that she used to think her family was perfect.

Then the flashback takes a turn. One of Carol’s brothers rips the kite from her hand, tearing it. Their father, Joe, descends on the boys in a rage and begins verbally abusing and physically beating them as Carol looks on, because — surprise! — it’s Traumatic Past Retcon time!

Goodbye Joe Danvers, well-meaning but hard-headed dad who’s never understood his daughter and whose approval always seems to be out of reach. Hello Joe Danvers v. 2.0, scary unpredictable drunk who hit his kids and terrorised his entire family. Aren’t comics fun?

The flashbacks are interspersed with shots of Carol in the present day, where she’s battling supervillains Tanalth and Moonstone. As the flashback progresses, present-day Carol lashes out violently, alarming friends and foes alike.

“That’s why fighting’s easier than remembering. I tell myself that if I’m strong enough… I’ll beat the memories down so hard they’ll never come back.”

What’s strange to me about this page is the way it deliberately draws a parallel between Joe, snarling and raising his fist to strike his powerless young children, and Carol, snarling and raising her fist to strike down a powerful villain. By implication, it places Carol in the role of abuser, indicating an intergenerational cycle of violence.

Which of course is never explored or discussed beyond this, because Stohl doesn’t want to actually talk about the lasting impacts and terrible toll of family violence, she just wants to exploit it for THE DRAMAS.

As Joe whales on his sons, kid!Carol tries to run to their defence, only to be held back by mother Marie, who tells her, “You’ll just make it worse. Now’s not the time.”

We will be told numerous times over the course of this book what an incredible, loving mother Marie Danvers is, and how she’s prepared to sacrifice everything for Carol. Her actions, though? Her actions consistently portray a woman whose number one interest is in not creating more work or emotional angst for herself, even when it means hanging Carol out to dry.

This is not to say that Marie isn’t a victim as well in this scenario: though she never fears for her life or safety (she could pummel Joe into the ground without breaking a sweat), it could well be that constant gaslighting and emotional abuse have left her feeling unable to oppose her husband in anything.

It could well be, but that is nuance that Stohl is not interested in exploring, and all we get throughout this miniseries is Marie making excuses for Joe’s abusive behaviour and prioritising her own comfort over Carol’s emotional wellbeing and safety.

So anyway, flashback!Marie says “Now’s not the time”, and in the present day Carol shrieks “WHEN - IS - THE TIME?!” while damn near beating Moonstone into a pulp.

The other Avengers are disturbed by this.

Iron Man: Hey, Carol? Could you maybe leave a little something on the plate for… you know… bad guy jail? Black Panther: Would you call that rage… disproportionate?

hellooooo unfortunate paternalistic implications. A female superhero has a hysterical outburst on the battlefield, while her almost exclusively male colleagues look on in bewilderment. (‘This is why women can’t be superheroes, they’re too emotional!!!’)

Cap and T’Challa have to physically pull Carol off Moonstone, as Carol begins to hyperventilate.

Adding to our list of things that this series has zero interest in exploring:

What it’s like to experience a panic attack or traumatic flashback

What it’s like to live with an anxiety disorder

What it’s like to live with trauma

The Carol of this story is not a woman living with trauma and mental illness, she is a woman who swoons hysterically whenever the narrative starts drag a bit. Her panic attacks are purely a plot device used to ratchet up the dramatic tension at convenient moments, and it’s some of the most insensitive handling of mental illness I’ve seen in comics for a while.

Next comes the obligatory scene of Carol getting a full medical in Tony’s lab, only for Tony to throw his hands up and declare, ‘welp, there’s nothing physically wrong with you, are you sure there’s not something else going on????’. Because apparently neither Tony — who has personal experience with trauma — nor Steve — who lived through a FUCKING WAR — know PTSD when it’s punching them (well, Tanalth and Moonstone) in the face.

I mean REALLY.

Tony: Look, the breathing thing is probably some kinda nervous tic.

hi, hello, person with an anxiety disorder here, please do not tell somebody having a full-blown panic attack that it’s just a ‘nervous tic’, you absolute insensitive fuckstick.

Carol: [sigh] It’s… Father’s Day. Not my favourite day of the year, you know?

waitwaitwait, so CAROL recognised that she’d triggered and experienced a traumatic flashback, but for some reason decided to play dumb about it until she’d after she’d had a pointless medical examination??

Tony tells Carol she needs to get herself sorted out or else somebody is going to get hurt, so she goes to visit her mother and younger brother Joe Junior at the family’s holiday home in Maine.

Carol flies into town past a sign that reads, “Harpswell Sound / Summer Home of Captain Marvel” Carol: [narration] Oh, brother.

‘Oh, brother’ is right. I guess at least it isn’t as embarrassing as the time Stohl introduced a D-grade Captain Marvel TV series.

“Sugar’s Donuts / Official Donut of Captain Marvel”

hoookay yep that’s a bit much now.

At the donut shop, Carol runs into childhood friend Louis Lee, who’s grown into a Designated Love Interest with an obnoxious phonetically-spelled accent

“Better keep that to yah self, Ms. Danvers. Wouldn’t wantitah get out that yah cheatin’ on us…”

I despise him already.

Carol goes up to the house and hangs out with her mother and brother. Over dinner, Marie and JJ ask her why she’s dropped by so suddenly. Carol evades and JJ blows up at her because apparently he’s been holding in some anger about how he feels she abandoned the family and didn’t even bother to come home when their dad was terminally ill. (Which, hey, here’s another potentially rich thread to explore — PITY IT NEVER COMES UP BETWEEN THEM EVER AGAIN.)

Carol shoots back that he knows full well she was avoiding home because of their abusive father, only to be interrupted by the door slamming as their mother walks out.

…eeeeeexcept apparently that was an art mistake, because the very next page is Carol chasing after her brother, the one who actually stormed out. She finds him at their father’s grave, drinking booze.

He offers his recovering alcoholic sister the bottle, and when she lightly turns it down he gripes that she’d always thought she was better than everybody else and she should feel free to piss off any time now. Then he gets into his car and Carol lets him drive home drunk like the responsible person she is.

“Part of me knew I should go after Joe Jr. I mean, nobody in my family was any good with a bottle.”

WHAT IN THE HELL, CAROL.

But nah, see, she has more important things to do, like scream at her dead father and desecrate his headstone, because that’s sure not going to upset her family further, nope.

Her little tantrum is interrupted by the sound of tyres screeching and a car plunging off a bridge because YOU FUCKING MORON you stood there and watched your brother stagger drunk into his car and made the conscious decision that ‘nah, I’m gonna let this one play out’.

and ohohohohoho how ~poetic~! He crashed right through the ‘Summer Home of Captain Marvel’

god I hate everything in this comic.

JJ is rushed to hospital, where he is diagnosed with a traumatic brain injury, leaving him in a catatonic state.

And of course, Stohl’s Carol makes it all about her-fucking-self.

“In an instant, everything changes. You ruin someone’s life… it ruins yours right back. You’d give everything to have gone after him… and acted like the hero you’re supposed to be.”

Yes, JJ is in a coma with a traumatic brain injury, but let’s talk about how his near-fatal car accident ruined Carol’s life.

Anyway— NINE MONTHS LATER.

No, really.

We just skip over nine months.

Wherein apparently Carol has been doing nothing but poor-me-ing over her brother’s hospital bed.

Like.

She gave up her entire life and career.

Stopped saving the world.

Stopped interacting with everybody.

Just sat by JJ’s hospital bed looking melancholy and growing her hair out so that comic bros would stop complaining that she looked like a lesbian.

Tony tries texting her and she turns off her phone. So he appears beside her in an explosion of pixels.

which-- how?!?

There’s no visible technology at work here, nothing to indicate what’s projecting his image or enabling the two of them to communicate. Tony might as well be speaking to Carol via magic, for all we can tell.

Christ, it’s a superhero comic, it’s not like you have to work that hard to sell it to the reader. Two lines of dialogue: ‘What the actual hell, Tony?’ ‘Well, you wouldn’t return my calls, so I [insert technobabble here].’ That’s all you need. How lazy can you get?

Tony asks her to come back to the Avengers — we miss you, we need you, this isn’t good for you, etc. — and Carol’s like, ‘nah, I’m too busy wallowing in self-pity’.

And yes, like Carol’s PTSD and panic attacks, like the family violence, JJ’s brain injury exists solely here as a plot device. It’s not a disability he lives with or a trauma he survives, it’s a vehicle to bring melodrama to Carol’s story and a weakly-fabricated excuse for Carol to stay with the family and discover what she’s about to discover.

Because now it’s time to bring the still-catatonic JJ back home. And since the downstairs living room is more accessible than his upstairs bedroom, he’ll be taking the couch, where Carol has been crashing.

Yes, even though Carol has her own childhood bedroom in this house — we see it next issue — she has been couch-surfing for nine months. But now that somebody else has claimed her spot, she’s got to move into… JJ’s bedroom.

So she goes up the room and rather rudely starts going through her catatonic brother’s wardrobe and pulling his clothes out to make room for her own shit. Again, I cannot stress enough that she had her own bedroom in this house. She’s just… weirdly choosing to impose on everybody else.

In the wardrobe, Carol finds a box belonging to her dead father. The box contains a love letter, in Joe’s handwriting, addressed to a woman who is not his wife — along with what is obviously a piece of alien technology.

This is a comic with a goddamn identity crisis. It keeps tossing out plot hooks, only to abandon them pages later in favour of the next shiny idea.

It begins by announcing, ‘This is a story about Carol returning home and confronting her childhood trauma.’ Then it abruptly swerves: ‘wait, scratch that, this is a story about Carol struggling to hold her fractured family together after her brother is hurt in an accident she had the power to prevent’, and then, ‘hold up hold up what we meant to say was, this is a story about Carol discovering a hidden truth about her family and parentage’.

It’s like Stohl doesn’t know editing exists. Because spoiler alert: this story is not about either of those first two things. The first fifteen pages of this issue are a dead fucking weight. They do not need to be there, and in fact a lot of problems could have been solved by cutting them.

Carol decides to spend some time with her family because she’s working through some personal shit, and discovers a letter hinting that her late father was leading a double life. That’s it; that’s the story.

All these convoluted logistics around who gets the couch and who gets the bedroom? Not necessary. Again, Carol has a bedroom in this house. Since she’s not around much, it makes sense that Marie might be using it as a general storage space. So: Carol is staying in her old room and has to shift a few boxes to make space. In the process, her dad’s shoebox gets knocked loose from whatever nook it was stuffed into. THERE. EASY. DONE. PLOT UNLOCKED.

Like, the car accident actually makes it harder to get Carol to that point. The only reason I can see for it being there at all is to force the passage of time so that Carol can grow her hair out and dudebros can stop complaining that she’s unattractive. Because I guess it just never occurred to anybody that they could draw her with long hair to start with?

But ‘oh no, the aliens and the superpowers I can accept, but in the last comic I read Carol had short hair and I AM SORRY BUT there is NO WAY human hair grows that fast, this is BEYOND THE PALE’.

Oh, and can we talk about how Carol’s response to finding OBVIOUS ALIEN TECHNOLOGY is to go, ‘huh, I wonder what this is, let’s see if I can open it by smashing it repeatedly with a hammer’??

Carol: Huh. Let’s see if we can open it. [starts bashing the device wildly] Gah! Why — won’t — you— Marie: [off-panel] Carol! Can you help me with Joe’s tube? Carol: [wandering off as the device activates] Coming, Ma!

And then IMMEDIATELY GETS DISTRACTED AND WANDERS THE FUCK OFF, failing to notice that the OBVIOUS ALIEN DEVICE has suddenly activated and is now beeping ominously????

So while Carol blunders around obliviously, the obvious alien device sends a signal to a galaxy far far away, which in turn activates what is seriously and embarrassingly called a Kree Kleaner. A small spherical vessel orbiting a distant planet lights up and begin speeding towards Earth, while inside some kind of Kree cyborg gestates and grows to maturity at a rapid rate.

Meanwhile Carol sits by the sea with Digital Tony and mopes that “I knew my family wasn’t perfect… but I thought love was”.

you.

you fucking.

Look, I recognise that trauma is complicated and that family shit is even more so. I know people process and cope with things in different ways and at different speeds. And for Carol to suddenly discover that, on top of all the grief he was causing at home, her father was leading some kind of secret life with another women, must surely feel fucking horrible and bring up a lot of deeply painful memories.

But her reaction doesn’t gel with everything Stohl has told us about Carol’s relationship with her father.

We’ve been told that Joseph Danvers was a physically and verbally abusive alcoholic who terrorised his family to the point where, to this day, Carol struggles with PTSD and anxiety attacks. We’ve been told that Carol thinks of him as a mean, violent drunk who even in death haunts her family. She doesn’t understand why her mother stayed with him or why her brother still defends him, when all he ever did was make all of them feel small and powerless.

The idea that Carol would think all of this and yet still be totally blindsided to learn that Joe and Marie’s marriage was not a true-love-fairytale-romance is utterly, outrageously laughable.

Stohl presents the letter as bombshell that overturns everything Carol thought she knew about her family, indicating that Joe was leading a secret life she never knew about. It’s not. All it is is a confirmation of everything we’re told Carol already thinks about her father: that he was a cruel, self-absorbed bastard who treated his family like crap. You know what is a fucking bombshell?

The fact that Joe Danvers apparently had personal access to OBVIOUS ALIEN TECHNOLOGY.

AND AS FOR THIS LINE.

“And like they say, families were made to be broken.”

literally nobody says this.

I even checked, just to be fair to this comic, on the off-chance that it was in fact a thing.

One of the six search results is somebody on instagram quoting this comic. The other five are all related to the title of a single playlist on 8tracks.

But hey, like they say, Margaret Stohl is a fucking hack.

#comics talk #the days of our lives of captain marvel

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docboots · 7 years ago

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On Medical Judgment

Reading this blog, you may get a distinct idea I might desire anarchy. I do not, I simply wish to alert people to the problems of a broken system. I have had an odd obsession with fixing things for a long while. It seems to be one of the common traits of the decade, the critical eye and mind. While judgment is nothing new, I feel there has been a distinct increase in negative feedback with a sharp decrease in constructive criticism. This leads to this thought being scrutinizing, instead of a compliment. One would think having a critical mind is a good thing, and it is, should it purely be a layer.

Why I decided to ramble on this is thanks to an issue that has plagued me for a long time. I have mentioned ADHD plenty, but I am uncertain I have fully expressed how difficult it is to prove I have it to the ones pushing out the pills. Not that I could find any to diagnose me as an adult (Was diagnosed as a child just fine. Fling all KINDS of drugs at the kid boots. FLEE from adult boots.)

It is when they use my strengths to try and prove otherwise. School was difficult due to boredom. I would be interested in the material, immensely in a number of cases, but get bored out of my skull from reiterating the same material the thousandth time. So I began to suffer academically from my mind wandering elsewhere, namely the worlds that would eventually be detailed into my fictional landscapes. I would try to explain my issues, but most teachers reacted to me like a simply a rowdy child. The flurry of bullying did not help any. I began to adapt, I learned to spread my attention properly without losing the lecture. Teachers argued with me about it, even if I was minding my own business in the corner You know the types. See you doodling and call on you to prove a point. Problem is that when I proved I was listening I was being a smart ass or..SOmething.

Anyway, the point is how I eventually was able to start getting good grades… Much later on in college. To the point that in Morrison, sure it was a scam school but they still were pushing out the material and tests, was a school I managed to get a 4.0 in. Got a certificate and anything. Least for a period. See, at that same time I was (and am) still in my eternal struggle to be treated, given guidance, something from my ‘medical professionals’ that turned useless. 60 minutes of waiting after my appointment time only to get a ten-minute piece with someone impatient. Even less for someone who ended up pushing some terrible antidepressants on me. Including one that, even though I went there initially asking for help on ADHD… Though admittedly vague since at this point I had plenty of people accuse me of wanting to pop off and sell the medicine on the street. Instead of taking the fucking things for the fact my mind is like having a series of hyper children try to explain you different subjects that fascinate them all at once. It is disjointed, voices overlapping, chaos, madness, and eventually, one of the trains of thoughts get lost in the scuffle.

They instead look towards my records. Claiming ‘Well if how did you do so well in school if you had ADHD?’ Well, though I was certain I explained this (as well as you can with a medical ‘professional’ rushing you, having you take these written tests and then saying they tell her as much as looking at them through mud) it wasn’t easy. In fact, I wasn’t all that great at first. There was a period where I was fine and dandy… ish. That period I was on Dexedrine (hilariously, the one they will only give to children) before being shuffled through medications that you do ‘better’ but instead made me claustrophobic even in open fields. The academic achievement award I put on my wall isn’t up there because I consider it a trophy in standard academia, especially given the scam college that gave it to me, but as a milestone.

Even as doctors would refuse to diagnose, treat, or even give much guidance towards controlling my ADHD… I managed to get one of those. It had involved week after week of swollen limbs and organs. The stress of college does horrid things to HAE. Especially when stressing over affording your pot, and having to deal with that nightmare pre-legalization (in my state.) and more all culminate in one lovely festering stress god. Controlling your life through your blood, keeping you from going or doing certain things at the flick of the wrist. ONe moment you can plan to go for a 3-mile hike, the day comes and you have to cancel because apparently, your lower intestines are now the size of a golf ball, along with all the lovely little issues that likes to cause for the next few days.

So, yeah, it was a WEE BIT fucking difficult to do well. Especially with doctors like that trying to use my struggle as the hammer of justice against the drug dealer I am not.

This same rage can be spread so far with me though. Treated like a criminal because I use pot for my difficulties, to the point I have lost jobs or never been hired at all for a drug test because I wouldn’t take the things TRULY ruining my mind and body. To supposedly protect me from this green herb from destroying my mind and body. I haven’t hurt a DAMNED soul in my attempts to get my medicine, barring maybe ranting their ear off for telling me to meet them in a shady parking lot next to a bus station at 1 in the morning, leave me waiting for a few fucking hours to the point I search for them. Only to return to find my window broken into and my e-cigarette missing. My medicine would have been wonderful for the stress that caused, and the swelling that followed.

Against, it is fucking laughable the bad luck I have. Plenty that have had bursts of FAR WORSE luck don’t get me wrong. It just seems like I have dealt with a lot of uniquely weird and infuriating issues that made me feel disgusted, humiliated, hurt, or just... Confused. Most of which leads, of course, to the demon of Hereditary Angioedema barking in my ear. Then instead of some advisement, knowledge, or what have you… More often than not you get treated like part of a grander problem.

Now here is why I am typing this. This is the little cliff-notes bit of knowledge I want to make sure so many know. The thing I want to scream at the world. I just haven’t yet figured out how to do so in a short and sweet manner:

When the world has beaten you down; when it has slammed your cheek and face against the curb and you have the yank yourself up. If you, at any point, attack an innocent party in some way… If done right, don't count venting, passionate ranting… When you begin to treat them as part of a problem they never had anything to do with you have a very high chance of becoming a part of that person’s bad day. A story about their bad life.

I am certain none of the people I rant about were out to get me. They were trying to protect their careers (especially thanks to the deserved scrutiny the prescription business is getting), trying to go on with their lives, trying to assist others, or maybe just a little spacy. I am no better at this than anyone else. I have had days where I am so angry I am a walking demon.

I try to be conscious of it. I try to fix my situations quickly, try to contain my rage and leave it for rants on the internet where I don’t use names. Specifically, because I try not to remember the names of my darkness. It is the good things in my life I like to assign names and labels to. They’ll stay longer in my memory. And, theoretically, the darker elements would stand out so strongly.

I don’t even know if the medicine will be any better than the medical marijuana. Thanks to having to buy from specials, I can’t quite get exactly what I need. The strains work, I am still figuring out the...er.. ‘Dosage’ if you will. Though the best part is no fear of overdose. Of frying my mind. Of becoming an emotionless rock.

I’ve been through many flavors of hell. Physical, emotional, fictional… I have studied horror for ages and tried to think of every traditional and pop culture monster from multiple angles.

Yet still, nothing terrifies me like the idea of being trapped in my own mind again. Going through the entire process of getting and finding a medicine. After years of hoping and praying, only to instead find yourself everything D.A.R.E warned you about when it comes to the medicine that ACTUALLY helps me. Mind you, I stopped taking it for a period for fear it wouldn’t allow me to properly judge the effects. Minus when an HAE attack happened. Was my ONLY pain relief. As I am sure you may have gathered, I’d be opposed to opioids or any other pain medications that my fry my mind. It might be due to ADHD causing my dopamine productions to be faulty, but marijuana has proven oddly helpful.

Pot never made me feel like I was melting into the couch. My mind still was working on something in the least. On some of those medications? I… ‘heard’ them in my minds eyes. They were murky, in a haze. It was like you were expecting to watch Death Note but got the Netflix version instead, on a staticy channel. On a tv where half the screen is broken because some alcoholic asshole punched it.

I would just sit there. I’d hear the outside world like it was in another room. See it through constant tunnel vision. My thoughts all restrained. I truly and completely felt trapped inside myself. COuld move around otherwise fine, I just had so little energy to do so. Motivation, which already is a concept I struggle with, now seem just... Missing. I wasn’t just lacking it. I suddenly seemed devoid of the piece of me that care or ever felt such things.

The final story I think I’ve mentioned, but I surely will never get over. Two, technically, but they are short and connected. Disability requires a comprehensive packet on your health to be filled out. I, of course, checked it first. Even after explaining in detail and there being plenty of resources, such as official websites, for them to consult... They got EVERYTHING wrong. They even put, under how it affects me, nothing more than ‘When he is not having a flare up, he is a perfectly healthy 20-something male.’ Which, given the packet is about my DISORDER not those brief stints when I am not having a flare up... Not only that, they ignored me entirely and put that the Epi-pens works on me. When not only did they not, they just seemed to make the whole matters a hint worse thanks to suddenly feeling like I had been hit by a bolt of adrenaline.

Maybe this is why the last denial letter I got(what feels like a year ago since I filed for that appeal) claimed that while they recognized me as disabled, I could stand it.

The lot of them are probably why my sanity feels like it is dwindling. It is almost like they are trying to gaslight me. If this is true, all they are managing to do is give me confirmation the lot of them are incompetent and incapable of handling my medical care.

The worst part is all of this seemed to snap something in me. That 4.0 began to gradually drop. Now I am pretty sure I never let myself dip down below 3.0, but still... I stopped caring for that perfection. What was the point? If it was justing going to be used as a tool to cut away my personal achievements... I figured the one piece of paper was enough. I figured I shouldn't try so hard. All it lead to was pain and agony, then judgment for it.

I never seem to keep that thought for long, since here I am. Whining to the internet in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, my words can help pound away the problems in this machine. CLear the rust and stains. Maybe then they'll stop making me feel like such a broken cog.

So… Do you see the problem?

#Hereditary Angioedema #disability #medical professionals #real life problems #nonfiction #rant #anger #academic achievement #problem #education #morrison university #diamond

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destruction-personified-blog · 7 years ago

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*HIATUS* (+ an explanation for my absence)

Hey guys. How’ve y’all been?

...I know, recently I haven’t been very active on any of my blogs, except for a few art reblogs here and there. I felt it was unfair to leave my followers in the dark as to where I have been, so here I am with an explanation (which may double as a vent.) You can unfollow if you want, I don’t care anymore, I need to say this.

(sensitive subjects below)

Recently - as in, for the past few months - I have felt like absolute shit, both emotionally and physically, for no apparent reason. So much so that I have felt too tired to roleplay on Tumblr, and stuck to Discord for any interactions, which is why my blogs have been inactive with no explanation. My shitty emotions have been affecting my muse and the way I roleplay, so for the most part, I’ve been trying to avoid it, because so far I’ve ruined several of my muses most close and long-running relationships by trying to roleplay in my current emotional state.

Only a few days ago did I hit a critical low.

I was home alone, nothing to do, sinking into a deep state of emotional numbness, when I began thinking things I usually don’t think. The thoughts scared me.

“Life has lost meaning.” “You find no joy in anything anymore.” “Not existing would be so much nicer.”

“You’d be better off dead.”

I broke down. I’ve never felt suicidal before, in my life, I’m not diagnosed with any mental illnesses, and I don’t really want to kill myself, but I do want to stop existing. I’m just too much of a coward to do it myself. And I know there are people - family, friends, schoolmates - who would be destroyed if I just up and left. My clinically depressed mother depends on me, my friends (though few in number) presumably care about me a lot, or so they say, and I’ve experienced the sadness an entire school, an entire community, can feel from the death of a peer. It crushes people. It makes a bustling school into a ghost town of sadness and quiet mourning. No matter how “unpopular” the student was, the entire school feels their death. So, no matter how unhappy I get, I don’t think I could ever go through with ending my life. For the sake of everyone who cares about me.

Still, the thoughts were there, and I was terrified for myself. So, I did what school had always taught me to do in this situation. I called a suicide hotline for young people. The lady I spoke to was very nice, I explained to her what I was feeling, and she told me to go to a room with another person in it, and call my mother. I thanked her, hung up, went into the living room with my brother, before calling my mum. When I told her what happened, she immediately came home from work and broke down in front of me. She spent the whole night with me, making sure I was okay, we both cried and I finally told her what I’ve been feeling the past few months.

Then, she made me an appointment to see my doctor. She said a psychiatrist would maybe help me feel better, but to get a session, I needed a referral from my doctor, so two days later we went to the clinic and I explained to my doctor what I had been feeling. Luckily, he was very understanding, and gave me a referral.

Three days passed and we got a call from a mental health facility a few towns away who were willing to let a nurse see me for a session. So, the day after, we travelled there and I finally saw a psychiatrist.

Over an hour and a half, I unloaded everything to her. I poured out all of my stress and fears and struggles, told her I have few real-life friends due to where I live and the only real friends I can have are people I meet online, told her I’m lonely, that I always worry about how people think of me, that I crave affection and physical interaction but I get overwhelmed easily and isolate myself, that I barely find joy in anything anymore, that school has lost all enjoyability and I dread going every single day, that I’m overemotional, then finally told her about the suicidal thoughts I’d been having, and in a nutshell, her feedback was this;

“You tend to worry too much about other peoples feelings when you interact with them. Your empathy gets in the way of taking care of yourself, and so you end up isolating yourself from people to avoid interaction. When you offend someone by saying the wrong thing, you blame yourself and call yourself a bad person, when you’re not, you just said something you thought was innocent and ended up hurting somebody without intending to. You put too much pressure on yourself to be a good person, and so you let yourself be walked over, which brings you down and causes self-loathing. So you turn to online interactions to avoid the face-to-face consequences of messing up what you say, which has been affecting your sleep pattern and appetite, which has also caused your physical and mental health to decline even faster. You barely exercise from your constant exhaustion, and this too has caused a decline in physical and mental health. My suggestion is, you find a way to put less pressure on yourself. Take care of your own emotions, find different coping mechanisms, talk to people face-to-face, and try to get more sleep and physical exercise.”

I think the psychiatrist really helped me calm my nerves and open my eyes to what I need to work on. I have another session in two weeks, which I am looking forwards to, and I may even update you guys on how it goes.

So, from what the nurse told me, I made the decision to take a long break from roleplaying. I realised that the negative interactions Guzma keeps having due to his own decline in mental health is badly affecting me too. (Hell, recently his boyfriend, the love of his life, decided to take a long break from him due to the mistakes he’s made, and every day since has been a struggle to keep his overwhelming negative emotions from seeping into my thoughts and dragging me down. I know IC =/= OOC, but my muse is a big part of me, and his emotions are greatly affecting me, which I know is not healthy.) So for now, I’m putting him to rest, and letting us both take a break from stressful interactions.

Yes, I have depression. It’s not officially diagnosed, but I know, because my current emotional state is not normal, or healthy, and my mother before me, and her father, and his father all had the same experience as me, at roughly the same age. In fact I recently found out that when my mum was my age, she swallowed a bottle of pills, and only survived because my uncle found her and called an ambulance. She would have died. I never would have existed. It’s terrifying. And she blames herself that I’m feeling this way. I assure you it’s not her fault; it’s mine.

TL;DR:: Basically, my emotions and the emotions of my muse have made roleplay completely unenjoyable recently, and I need a break. I’m so sorry to anybody who was planning on interacting with me, or anyone who even enjoys reading my roleplays, I feel like I’ve failed you.

To all 500+ of you: thank you so so much for following, and I’m so sorry for not taking care of my blogs. I need to take care of myself right now.

To anyone my emotions may have hurt, I’m sorry. All of you please take care. I’ll be back soon. Promise.

#ooc #negative #depression #suicide mention #hiatus

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eats-the-stars · 5 years ago

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you know, for how much anxiety my sister has, and the way it makes her super insecure about a lot of social interactions, she has always been good at keeping a handful of really close friends. i was always more of a loner since i was weird (autistic, but not officially diagnosed until i was older because my mom refused to acknowledge it but it never stopped the kids at school from calling me the “r” word and shit). i never minded it much, though. i was very self-contained and although i was quiet and kept to myself, i wasn’t insecure about myself like my sister was. lots of bullies were frustrated when i wouldn’t respond how they wanted. and also terrified of me in like 1st to 3rd grade because i would not hesitate to bite a kid and the teachers would always side w/me when i told them who started it. adults were always kind of a grey area for me, but it was way easier to get on most of their good sides. other kids was hard. i could never figure out what behavior they wanted from me. but adults? they just wanted me to be polite and nice and to smile, not break the rules, be honest. super easy. also i talked “like a baby?” when i was in elementary up until like 5th grade? I don’t know what that means exactly but i know i sounded different and it made teachers kind of treat me like i was made of glass which was irritating but useful when some kid manages to rip my stuffed toy in half during recess. they probably thought i had, like, the mind of an even younger kid or some bullshit. which meant they had mixed opinions on my reading level, which was always super high, like adult science fiction books high. I was reading Dune and Lord of the Rings in 2nd grade and they HATED it. no idea why teachers would hate a kid being able to read? but they did. but my mom was pleased as hell because there was “no way” i could be autistic (and my mom and her friends and my aunts used the “r” word when I overheard them talk about me but they honestly also thought that was the correct medical term so I know my mom didn’t mean it in a bad way, it still just kind of stings even now). my dad was actually my favorite adult for a lot of reasons, but one reason was that my mom religiously kept any suspicion that i was autistic away from him. which was easy since he’s kind of oblivious and she took me to all my school things and doctor appointments. and he was just super happy that i liked science fiction because he’s a huge nerd. so he was always the one taking my interest seriously and he’d let me info-dump endlessly whenever we were in the kitchen or in the car. asked a few questions or just quietly let me keep going.

i think my interests were more valuable to me than friends if i’m being honest. friends were great in concept, but in reality kids were either nice to me because they were “good kids” or because they were legit nice in general, or because they wanted something from me like help with homework or to convince the teacher of something, or to try to trick me even though it would never end well for them.

but i am happy that my sister managed to make and keep as many friends as she has. it’s funny because they’re all so wildly different, too.

her first friend was the shyest girl i’ve ever met. like all the way up through middle school she refused to speak to anyone in the school except my sister. so if anyone wanted to talk to her, they had to get my sister to translate. teachers, classmates, didn’t matter. the good thing was that they were basically inseparable so you didn’t have to look far. they used to have sleepovers at her house and her parents lived next to an ice cream shop so they’d go get ice cream and color together outside on the bench and their friendship in general was just super cute.

meanwhile my sister was nearly as shy, but for anxiety reasons, and had “resting murder face” and intentionally kept her hair over her eyes and face most of the time to hide from ppl due to her anxiety. like she would literally just drop her head and let her hair cover her face if she was done talking. she also has problems with her speech, so she talks low, quiet, and a bit slurred when she’s in public (she’s louder at home). people tend to have a hard time understanding her if they aren’t used to it. she also got mistaken for a stoner even though she’s never touched weed in her life. doesn’t even drink. only thing she’s been on is prescription anti-anxiety meds.

her second best friend was the most loud, aggressive, popular girl in her grade. blonde hair, blue eyes, short, and with no indoor voice. she basically just walked up to my sister one day on the playground in like 2nd grade and just decided they were going to be friends. my sister says that she’s the reason she barely had to deal with bullies at all. nobody wanted to deal with getting chewed out and ostracized by the whole girl gang for making fun of her. of course, she also evaded bullying in places w/out her friends by looking like she was low-key plotting murder, and because she had me with her on like the bus, and they already knew that i was the crazy kid who would bite you (also pepper in liberal uses of the “r” word which apparently made me more of a threat but i’d take it). i also came up w/really weird threats as a kid because i read so much that i didn’t want to make them boring and generic. so i had one kid (kind of a general bully in my sister’s grade) who made fun of my sister exactly once in my presence and then never again, and he confessed at graduation to her that it was because when we were in elementary on the bus together i leaned over to him right after he kicked my sister’s backpack under the seat, and I grabbed his leg and threatened to rip his thigh off and eat it if he did that again. i literally don’t even remember that but it did sound like me as a kid so...yeah i did not have many friends.

#personal #i should just label this as my diary now #i used to have an actual written diary but i have no idea where it is #probably buried in my room under some old school notebooks or shoved in the back of my closet

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boatagainstcurrent-blog · 7 years ago

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An odyssey

I don’t even know where to start.

I guess I will begin by saying that I created this blog, at the suggestion of my boyfriend, as a safe haven for my thoughts. There’s a lot going on in my life right now. I need a space to let it all out.

I guess I’ll give some background: I’m an (almost) 25-year-old woman living in Virginia and my best friend is a cute, blonde-haired dutch guy that I am happy to call my boyfriend. We’re doing the long distance thing while he’s finishing school in the Netherlands. Generally speaking, long-distance relationships are pretty hard, but I think we’re managing smoothly.

Right now, I am working as a marketing coordinator for a non-profit, but my degree is in journalism and I worked in newspapers for a while. I live in an apartment with my roommate, Kassie. Kassie is 26 and works at one of our local hospitals as a nuclear medicine specialist. Kassie is probably the best roommate I’ve ever had. She loves to craft and bake cookies, and she and I share the same affinity for mint chocolate chip ice cream. Maddy lives close by and has been my best friend since I turned around and started talking to her about magic tricks in the 7th grade. She works for a clean energy company and is obsessed with rocks (one of the side-effects from being a geology enthusiast, I guess.) I have a 5-month-old puppy named Koda, who is a cross between a Beagle, German Shepherd, Red Heeler, and Mountain Feist. We call him our “Heinz 57″ dog.

I have two sisters, Meghan and Lauren. Meghan is 29 and is getting married to her long-time boyfriend, Erik, in December. I have always been very close with Meghan - we are very similar in a lot of ways. Lauren is 31 and has a husband (Michael) and two children (Eamon and Julian). Eamon just turned 2 and Julian is only one month old! Both of my nephews are adorable and I love them so much!

My parents are the reason that I feel I need to vent. Growing up, they were wonderful. Their relationship was what every little girl dreams of: High school sweethearts, married by 22, first child by 23, first house by 26. They were always very affectionate and sweet to each other. Money was tight when my sisters and I were young, but we never noticed it. By the time I was in high school, I think I started to notice things falling apart. My dad has always had a bit of a volatile temper, but his chronic illnesses were starting to make it worse. My mom was diagnosed with a weird condition that made her vocal chords spasm, so she could barely talk above a whisper -- think Diane Rehm, but worse. Then I went to college and was separated from any problems going on in their marriage, at least for a little while.

When I was a sophomore in college, we my sisters and I were contacted by a woman who claimed to be the daughter of my parents. This was a secret they kept from us for nearly 30 years. Apparently my mom and dad had conceived a child when they were only 15. My mom’s parents were public figures (my grandfather was an anchor for a national news network) and it was the 70s, so of course they couldn’t have a daughter who was pregnant. My mom was shipped off to Ohio to give birth to their child and was forced to give her up in a closed adoption. She lost the weight, moved back to Virginia, and her life went back to normal. The only people who knew about this trauma at the time were my parents, my mom’s parents, and the couple who took care of my mom in Ohio. Fast-forward 30 years and my parents are being contacted by their estranged child. After a lot of consideration, they decided they wanted to stick to the terms of the closed adoption and not forge a relationship with her. It was a difficult decision, but after talking to their lawyer, they decided that nothing good could come from re-establishing a relationship. Most reunions like this don’t end well for either party. It’s not like how it is portrayed in movies and television, there are too many hurt feelings and you can’t make up for all of that lost time. They felt like not reaching out to her was the most humane thing they could do. To this day, I still haven’t talked to my long-lost sister. I can’t really explain why right now, that’s a post for another day.

This all occurred between 2012-2013. Things between my parents were kind of rocky for the next couple of years. Come 2015, another event would rock the boat. My grandfather on my dad’s side passed away. My dad was incredibly close with his father, and he idolized him like a hero. Hell, my grandpa was a hero; he fought in Korea and Vietnam. My dad always admired my grandfather’s quiet humility and dedication to his family. My grandpa rescued my grandmother from an abusive relationship and moved them out of Baltimore and into Northern Virginia. He wasn’t just a stepfather to the four children she had with another man, he actually went a step further and adopted all of them. My grandfather was a mechanical engineer and actually built his family their first couple of televisions. He was smart as a whip, all the way up until the very end of his life.

My dad was devastated by the loss of his father, and as he was reflecting on his childhood and all the good times they had together, some other memories started flooding back. I don’t want to go into too much detail, but will say that my dad started to remember memories that he had suppressed about being sexually abused by one of his oldest brothers for years when he was very young. He never told anyone about what his brother was doing to him. I think part of it was shame, but a larger part was because my dad was a little kid when all of this was happening, and his brother had threatened to kill him if he said anything. My uncle was a really messed-up teenager and always had violent tendencies. I know that in his adult life, he’s gone to jail a few times for alcohol, drugs, and for domestic abuse. So, my dad obviously had reason to believe that his brother was capable of killing him.

My dad fell into a deep depression as these thoughts and memories that he had worked so hard to push down started boiling to the surface. He won’t talk to me much about what he’s going through, but I know that he feels an immense amount of guilt. My uncle has four kids (that we know of). I think that’s where most of my dad’s guilt stems from -- he’s terrified that his silence has made way for his brother to sexually assault more people, like his children, or his current/ex-wife.

Back at the beginning of 2016, my dad announced that he was miserable in his job and he needed to find a new one. He wanted a fresh start. He had too many bad memories of the city where we grew up -- and the place where he was abused for years. In the beginning, he told my mom, “I need to do this and you can come with me if you want.” Since then, that sentiment has evolved into the mindset that he needs to move away to heal, and he doesn’t want my mom around while he’s doing that. My mom is a strong woman. She took what he said and decided that she wanted to move closer to her grandchildren in North Carolina rather than being stuck in a house with this shell of a man who, frankly, doesn’t treat her like a friend, let alone a wife. She found a new job and moved into a new house much quicker than my dad ever expected. She’s now settled into her new place and my dad is living on his own. He’s still on the job hunt, but he hasn’t been hired by anyone yet.

My dad has been talking to a therapist for a few years, but honestly I don’t see much of a change in him. He’s more mean than ever and is completely pushing everyone out of his life - particularly my mom. They are officially telling people they are “separated.” I feel very confused about the whole situation. I am devastated for my dad. I can’t even begin to understand the pain he is going through. But also I do not understand how isolating himself is going to make anything better. He’s ruining his relationship with my mom. He’s hurting everyone around him.

My sister Meghan put it this way: What he’s experiencing now is so strong that he emotionally can’t put up with anyone’s feelings but his own. He’s is constantly reliving these painful memories of his childhood and he is therefore processing things like a child would. He has tantrums about the tiniest things. My mom was around him the most, so she had to deal with his anger issues more than anyone else. That’s not healthy for her and she shouldn’t have be around that. She also said it’s just too painful to have to be around him, and pretend that they are a normal couple and everything is okay. That’s why she moved. That’s why she’s telling people that they are separated.

I know that from a reasonable standpoint, I should be able to deal with this. I am not a ten year old whose parents are getting a divorce. I don’t even know if divorce will be the outcome of this horrible situation, but I don’t think it is smart for me to count that out. My parents have both said that they would be willing to work on things, both only after my dad takes the time he needs to recover. I don’t know how long that would take, and I don’t think that anyone would expect my mom to wait for him to come around.

I am 24, almost 25, and I should be able to take this in stride and accept that this situation they are in now is what’s best for both of them. My dad needs to be alone to be heal. My mom may not like it, but she knows that being around my dad when he’s acting this way isn’t going to make her happy. But I am so upset. I don’t know how to deal with it. I cry about it all the time. I hate that this is happening and I want to fix it, but I can’t. I can’t do anything. All I can do is try to be there to support both of my parents. But I feel angry at my dad. It’s hard for me to talk to him about it because I feel like he’s being selfish and he’s hurting my mom. I never know what to say. And then I feel bad for feeling that way because I know he’s not selfish. The reason that this has become so bad is because he suppressed his memories to try to protect everyone else.

See? It’s a rollercoaster of emotions. I am just so confused and upset. Maybe I need to talk to a therapist about all of this...

#family #depression #parents #abuse #sexualabuse #dad #mom #divorce #separation #relationships #marriage #therapy

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viper-no-viping · 7 years ago

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Wweelp. I guess it's Rambling Time.

Not even sure how far I'll get in any particular topic, but, we're still kind of rusty with blathering shit for school assignments, so.. Here I am, exercising my shit-blathering pathways, or whatever.

I guess an initial General Weather Report would be suitable, given that seems to be how our collectively chronophobic ass keeps track of things that we will Almost Definitely forget in the nearish future.. But that would require thinking in detail about Various Things and that's kind of Not My Bag rly, heh, so. I dunno, I guess we'll see what happens.

Suppose starting with the current thought process will suffice. There's this trans chick on YouTube we follow, who posted recently that she's getting bottom surgery, now that she's recovered from her facial feminization surgery. From there I ended up at.. One or two other videos, pretty sure it was two, about her transition timeline.

And now "transition timeline testosterone" is sitting there in the YouTube search bar staring back at me and I'm just like :\ lol dunno, or someshit.. sigh.

This video made some Feely Feels rear their dysphoric heads, because of some Hashtag Relatable shit about the way he described stuff.. And I'm sure the seething jealousy that he got top surgery means something, heh, meanwhile we're over here crossing our fingers that the body isn't too fucked up for even a breast reduction, which, even for that, the co-pay alone.. ugh.

I mean, not like I actually know how much it would be yet, hopefully Tahni will remember to ask about that when we see the primary again for the results of the next ultrasound to make sure that ovarian cyst isn't fucking cancer, fucking goddamn cancer, never would have thought we'd be stressing over that as a possibility but here we fucking are..

Well. I personally don't have much history, hehe, what with the Iiii don't, exist, Iiii don't, exist.. et cetera.. yeeup, not sure where that was going, but anyway. Yeah. If not from the fucking ovaries, possibly from the goddamn thyroid, which is Fun. Apparently there are no actual known causes for the thyroid cancers, shit just fucking happens, more commonly in "women." Yay.

But I mean, even if it is some kind of fucking thyroid cancer, at this point just take the shit out and put us on thyroid meds for the rest of our life, just make this shit stop.. ugh, but it's probably not even one thing, is it, this whole fucking body is going to shit, and how many months will it be until we've done enough tests and shit to figure out what's even going on..

It's so funny, two years ago they Really Thought it would just be an endoscopy and colonoscopy to find the cause, just a couple tests.. xD Ahh, funny in a kind of lol kill me way.. But at least shit is actually showing UP on tests now. Just having the vague undiagnosable bullshit is a different kind of agony, like before the LPR was diagnosed, it is Fucked Up trying to get any kind of answer on shit when your main symptom is just a constant hellish nausea, not anything that comes back from a lab test with Actual Results that doctors will Actually Respect.. To say nothing of how family and friends start slowly but surely deciding to themselves that it's just you making a fuss out of "nothing."

So, yeah. Different kind of hell, but godfuckingdamn I would take almost any other ailment aside from this fucking Everlasting Period bullshit. Talk about fucking dysphoria, haha. You really hate acknowledging the existence of this entire section of the meatsuit you're stuck in? Here, have some as-yet-undiagnosed ~menstrual issues~ that make the most unpleasant thing that section of the meatsuit does last TWICE AS LONG AS IT USED TO!! THAT SURELY WON'T MAKE YOU WANT TO STAB YOURSELF AT ALL!!!!

Yep. Look how well I'm coping. XDD STFU self, damn.

Or, well, I guess don't STFU, still need to exercise the word-vomit muscles, god knows how the fuck I'm gonna get by the rest of that godforsaken pass/fail How To Actually Do Shit With Your Psychology Degree Part I class.. Due tomorrow is an assignment in place of a midterm, to make a resume and goal list of shit to do that'll make said resume better.

Except there are no accredited fully-online law schools yet, so what in the ungodly fuck are we gonna even do with the degree? It's not like having it is gonna make the body less of a complete medical fucking wreck, it's not like it'll erase the fact that we can never know when we're going to be suddenly fucking incapacitated with dizziness/ridiculous cramps/intense don't-fucking-move-or-you'll-gag nausea for days on end so we can't actually keep a consistent schedule of doing anything outside of the house, what the fuck good is it gonna do me to make a fucking resume reminding me of exactly how worthless of a job candidate we are at this point?

Whoops, that Got Deep real quick, haha. But like, seriously, what the shit do I even put on a resume aside from the fact that we accidentally started the Psychology Club at our high school? If we use the non-chronological resume format it'll make the employment gap stand out less, but it's supposed to emphasize skills and experience instead, and what fucking skills or whatever can we even put on a resume? What fucking skill set will make you a viable job candidate when you can't even stand for the length of a shower without your legs getting shaky, but you don't have a fancy enough degree or the social stamina to handle a job that doesn't require some form of physical labor? Not to mention I think there's also supposed to be a made-up cover letter, something like "Hi I'm XYZ and I'm applying for ABC job with this resume", what the fucking shit can I even put for that when I know how Ridiculously Limited we are at this point?

A bunch of blathered nonsense to fill a page with lots of words and hopefully conceal the fact that we're completely making shit up. That's what. Because I can't just say "I'm Pretty Much Fucked in terms of traditional employment because chronically ill autistic multiple, and am trying to plan out a career in online comics, or if online law school becomes a thing I'll gladly use my psych degree for that." That's how you fail an assignment, even if it's the truth. I can't exactly write a cover letter to the internet announcing our intent to try that shit. So. Yeah. All aboard the Blathering Train, instead.

But yeah, anyway, that's enough financial/career angst for right now. Back to dysphoria angst!, lolol.

Yeah, so, here I am staring at this shit in the search bar and just.. Like, I don't even know if it would be medically safe to try HRT at this point, but aside from that, I don't even think that's what we want, ideally? Not interested in dealing with facial hair, armpit and "downstairs" hair already pisses some of us off enough..

Not sure if we're interested in being perceived as male, I guess, but not really wanting to be perceived as female either? I'm pretty sure at this point most of us are either specifically agender, or don't subscribe to the concept of gendering traits at all and just call themselves non-binary..

Like, the vast majority of us have fucking hated the body's boobs since they first showed up in middle school. We gave Not A Fuck for gendered shit, in general, but on an autistic sensory level we Fucking Despise pressure on the body's chest and these bitches are heavy. Even moreso than usual, recently, what with the hormones being fucked up. Fucking hate it.

But like, how do you explain to a doctor that you want the boobs off completely? The best we can probably realistically hope for is a reduction because back pain, but I dunno if it would Raise Questions if we asked what the smallest possible size they could do was. Could we settle for As? Would it be weird to ask to go from DDs to As? Weird enough that someone would take the time to be like "now hang on a second" and start trying to make us go through the red tape bullshit to be on record as Officially A Trans TM?

If we could get away with not wearing a bra without looking like we're wearing weird droopy melons under our shirt, I feel like that much would be enough for several of us, even if the body did still technically have some small boobage. As long as it didn't impede us or anything we wanted to do, if it didn't get in the way or weigh down on our chest, if it didn't make our shirts fit weird, I feel like we could deal with that..

But then I see this trans bro on YouTube here and hhnnghh why can't we just not have themmmm..

I mean, ideally, why can't the fuckers be detachable so those who don't hate them can put them on when they feel like it and the rest of us can go on our merry way without them, but, heh, science isn't quite there yet.. Next best thing seems like it would be getting top surgery and letting whomever felt like having boobs just stuff a bra when they wanted to. But of course, insurance won't pay for it if it's just because We Really Want It, we'd have to either be Officially Trans TM and jump through all those hoops and hope top surgery is covered, or we'd have to just settle for a breast reduction covered under back pain.

I guess it also Says Something, that so many of us in the system are asexual-and/or-gay dudes, or simply never thought about it and are female "by default" aka because the body was categorized as that and we didn't care enough about gender to think there was any other option, we just accepted the narrative presented to us, that we were just "not like other girls." None of us have ever felt super masculine or super feminine, that I can recall, because What The Fuck Even Is Gender, and why the fuck is it necessary to divide up traits into human-created categories anyway..

But it makes it hard to figure out exactly where we are in terms of transness.. We've known Basically Forever that we "aren't like other girls," but gender means so little to us that we never particularly wanted to be a boy either, so calling ourselves a trans guy or even just non-binary transmasculine still seems odd, even though it seems like the latter should fit..

But then, how much of that is just cisheteronormativity in action? Because I know we've had several dreams wherein we had a wang and it felt pretty natural, not foreign and out of place like the body's current genitalia setup. But like, what the fuck does wang-creating surgery even look like, that sounds like a whole mess of complicated shit to figure out, and we're already medically compromised..

With the arrival of our newest non-straight dude, one of several in the system, some of us have had to seriously reexamine where we stand on gender shit. I guess at this point it's generally accepted that we would have been much better suited to existence as "semi-effeminate AMAB homoflexible non-binary ace," rather than "pan-quoiro AFAB possibly transmasculine non-binary ace"..

I guess it feels like masculine should have been the starting point that we feminized to our liking, instead of starting off with feminine and not knowing if we want to be "masculine enough" to be categorized as "transmasculine".. Is it "masculine enough" if we want the boobs off but can't do HRT because half the shit this other video mentions sounds just as bad as having the boobs? We can't stand body hair and acne and all that, and god knows how HRT would even work with all the hormonal issues the body's already having..

The more I think about what we ultimately would ideally want, the more it seems like we would really just prefer having no AFAB reproductive parts/periods and no boobs, maybe a wang and a lower voice, and that's it. I guess maybe we could try out the aesthetic of some minimal beardage, but body hair in general already irritates several of us.. So like, for various reasons I don't see HRT happening.

We already know most of us would have the boobs off tomorrow if we could, but I guess what's tripping some of us up now is the fact that Vern is way less genitalia-repulsed than most of us, and in fact seems to generally handle the notion of Having A Body better than most of us.. And he definitely identifies as a guy, a non-binary semi-effeminate robot guy but still definitely masc-leaning, so.. What does it say about us if so many of us have already been questioning this for so long, and now the one who's most secure in his gender identity out of all of us is one of our masc-leaning non-binary guys?

I don't even know how we would.. React to it, I guess, if we did try to.. I dunno, embrace being transmasculine or something.. It doesn't feel like we'd prefer to do anything drastically different, behavior-wise, and we don't care enough about pronouns to try to figure out something gender-neutral that isn't "they" because gender-neutral "they" within a plural "they" system is confusing as fuck.. So like, I don't think most of us on the fence about being transmasculine would change our names or whatever, or use he/him pronouns, it would just.. Feel better to not have certain anatomical bits be perceived as part of who we are?

But then that just kind of makes us wonder if we're being a Bad Trans TM or something, like if that counts as reducing gender to body parts or something.. This is all so goddamn complicated.

Hot damn, finally got around to looking up some YouTubeage about how the fuck a phalloplasty actually works.. Taking skin, fat, a nerve, and an artery from the donor site to make it, that sounds so fucking unnerving to even think about, taking body stuff from one area and like.. Making a wang? Ughh, there are so many stages.. Yeah, no, even getting the AFAB reproductive bits out seems like possibly too much intense surgery for us, I don't see how we could ever manage this kind of bottom surgery, shit sounds fucking terrifying, I guess the notion of taking so much shit from another area on the body just kind of gets us in a body horror kind of way..

So yeah, I don't see us being able to do that.. And I mean, we're not really sexually-focused to begin with, so like, aside from just the base-level comfort of Having It, it's not like we'd desperately Need a wang or anything to have a fulfilling life? Just NOT having the AFAB reproductive shit/periods, that would be the main thing, not having that shit and not having the boobs. If we had a lower voice we could pass as a guy if we wanted to, and we'd probably like that, but weighing that one thing against the whole list of other shit that comes with HRT, it's probably not worth it.

But how do you ask for, much less get covered for, removing the boobs and reproductive stuff with no Official Medical Reason, just "because I don't want it"? Non-binary dysphoria doesn't seem like it would be considered a Valid Enough reason for it to be covered, but we don't want to go into a Full Transition either, so.. yeah, I dunno how we'll end up being more comfortable just existing in the body, with so many roadblocks.

I dunno, objectively it's probably internalized transphobia/nb-phobia or whatever the name for that is, not feeling "trans enough" and whatnot.. But I guess part of it is also, why can't we just be a fucking gender mystery and be allowed to exist that way? It's our fucking meatsuit, why do we have to pigeonhole ourselves into either Male or Female just for our insurance to believe that certain bodyparts cause us extreme dysphoria and we'd be better off without them? Why can't we just be a person with no boobs and maybe a wang and a voice that can't be readily identified as male or female?

I dunno why I'm even rambling about this, I know why, cisheteronormativity and various historical fuckeries, et cetera. I guess it's just frustrating trying to figure out where we are on the gender spectrum when we're blocked from making the modifications that would make the body feel less alien to us. Maybe if we could actually get top surgery, we would have a better idea of whether we consider ourselves transmasculine or just some kind of masc-leaning genderfluid non-binary, which is where several of us seem to be right now..

Hnngh. This guy seems like a good example of where we might end up one day if we do end up trying out HRT, but the idea of the body being more of a pain than it already is in terms of body hair/acne/et cetera just seems so shitty..

Haha, is it weird that I'm kind of hoping that ovarian cyst will end up being cancer and they'll give us an option to remove the whole reproductive setup in there? Because we would do that shit in a heartbeat. What's that called, a hysterectomy? A total laparoscopic hysterectomy with bilateral ovary-something-something.. How do you convince insurance that you Need that to improve your quality of life, without establishing yourself as Fully Transitioning?

Wow, this guy's scars are so small, huh, would have thought it'd be worse.. Goddamn, we'd love to have all that shit taken out. Not like we're fucking using any of it, it's just been causing us more and more agony since puberty, can't be doing this fucking 11-day period bullshit anymore, the dysphoria was bad enough on its own..

ugh, why the fuck am I even looking at all this, not like we can do any major surgeries for a while yet, if at all..

I don't know, I guess trying to work out what we would collectively be least-dysphoric with is useful, it's just extra depressing thinking about how hard it'll be to get the boobs off, or even reduced, much less the whole reproductive removal biz.. feh. Time to ramble about something else.

hmph, actually, should probably do the other quiz for that pass/fail class.. -.- That way we can just deal with the resume/goal list bullshit tomorrow, mmmmboy.. meh, that would require more focus than I probably have though, guess it'll be tomorrow.

I dunno. The 10th-to-12th anniversary is fast approaching, probably best to just disappear into distractions a bit longer, at least until it's passed. Still not sure if it'd be best to avoid tumblr or what, on the 12th, but I guess we'll see.. meh.

#this is mostly collective-wide shit but i Cannot Be Fucked to properly tag all this so #i'll just leave this here for now

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