#if you feel a headache coming on or a bodyache

[vulcaner]

suffering makes you feel safe because you know it so well. but there is really no reason to suffer. take some ibuprofen

[morwap]

Hi, this is gonna be an odd ask but.. I got diagnosed with covid and honestly reading has been the only thing I can cognitively do, and when I say I'm really desperate for some soft possessive ghostface or legion frank, man I'm touch starved and could really use a hug

omg i remember when i got covid 😟 the headache and bodyache was no fucking joke

you laid in danny’s arms, his fingertips tracing shapes on your skin as you relaxed into him. hold you close made him feel like you were his no matter how many times you said it out loud.

he loved to hear it out loud but loved to feel it even more, your face in his chest as you just laid there without a care in the world, knowing he would take care of you and never let anyone do anything to you. you were safe with him no matter what.

danny wished you would come to him for everything, he hoped you knew he would do anything for you, he was yours as much as you were his.

[lizhly-writes]

i do not have anything very new for you this week.  i do, however, have this revised version of the first chapter of the ‘villainess’ side of my heroine-villainess isekai bodyswap story, which is, essentially, a full rewrite.  i have made some changes that have brought our pov character a little more in line with my mental image of her.  to quote someone that i had look at this: ‘Before mina seemed more refined like she kills u by poisoning u thru ur tea and then "ohoho"ing as u slowly lose consciousness and die, and now mina seems like she kills u by straight up ripping ur spine out lol’

i always did wonder why i never saw the ‘original’ villainess in otome isekai stories do some major physical damage for funsies, y’know?

warning: this thing is 2k+ words long. 

Why’s it so fucking loud.  Who’s screaming bloody murder in here?  Shut up, I got the worst headache and whatever slick steaming pile of shit you think you are, you ain’t making it better.  If you won’t keep that hole in your face quiet, what if I just heal it closed?  You won’t get a choice then, how about that?

I’m laid out flat on the floor, too. It’s wet, there’s something soaking in my shirt and my hair.  It better not be vomit.  Three fucking faces of Knight, how much did I drink last night.

I crack an eye open. “Th’ fuck’s goin’ on.”

There are people with the dumbest fucking faces staring down at me.  “You’re awake!” one of them exclaims, like everyone else has useless holes for eyes.  Course I’m awake, that something you really feel you gotta tell the world?

“Shit, really?  Wow!  Never woulda guessed,” I say as I drag myself to my feet.  Urgh, feels like I drank my way through the entire bar.  Did I get run over by a carriage or something too?  I’m real fucked up — balance off, arms and legs ain’t landing right, everything aches, and I got clothes on that look like I stole them from a crackpot fashion student.  

Though, hey, looks like everyone here is dressed like that.  Maybe it’s the crackpot fashion student side of campus. I’m in some really shiny cafe, by the looks of it.  The aesthetic here is… really something.  Didn’t know we had this kind of place at the university.

Let’s put that aside for now.  I crack my neck and ignore everyone talking at me as I give the entire place a once-over.  No sign of Emily or Asher, which doesn’t sound right.  If I’m this messed up, normally Asher’d be right there with me.  Emily, at least, would’ve tracked me down and tried to kick me in the head or something.  Not that I’d need a kick in the head, it hurts bad enough as it is.  Maybe enough that I can say that I’ve knocked something loose.  Hearing��s definitely off, it’s doing funny things to my voice.  Not liking that very much at all.

“How much is a drink ‘round here?” I say, because while alcohol got me into this, I’ve heard great things on how alcohol can get me out of this.

“I don’t think you need a drink,” says an absolute fucking killjoy from somewhere behind me.

“‘Scuse me?” I say as I do an about-face.  The killjoy in question looks boring enough that I’d forget him instantly if it weren’t for the eyes.  Real pretty shade of blue, nice enough that probably some asshole’s tried yanking them from his skull.  It’s a wonder he still has them!  Maybe he’s a good enough fight that people don’t bother, huh?

He doesn’t react when I step in for a closer look — yeah, there we go, left eye, the scars are barely there, but it looks like someone’s been using their nails to make an attempt.  Honestly, you’d think he’d flinch a little with me getting that close to his face, it’s not like his glasses’ll be any good at protecting him.  But no, he just stands there and says, “I think you need first aid.  You might have a concussion.  I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re bleeding.  A lot.”

…Hmm.  

“Am I?” I say.  I reach for the bits of me that I’d hoped hadn’t been sitting in vomit and… yeah.  My fingers come away red.  

Trace a little further up to the back of my head, and there’s the head wound.  Not as deep as I’d think, but it’s there, along with a very long braid I don’t remember getting.

Maybe I am concussed.  Should’ve noticed both of those things a lot sooner.

“Yeahhhhh, okay,” I say.  “Lil later, then.”  After I fix myself up, maybe.

“I think you’re actually supposed to avoid drinking after a concussion altogether,” says Absolute Fucking Killjoy.

“Fuck you,” I say. Of all things, that’s what gets him to flinch.  Interesting priorities he’s got there.

About the drink, though.  He ain’t wrong.   I know how head wounds work.  But those rules on what to do with them?  That’s for other people.

“You need a doctor—”

Please.  Last time I needed a doctor was years ago.  

This kind of thing, it’s easy enough to take care of.  So easy that it should be already healed up, but whatever.  Just a little concentration, and —

And.

...What's this?  

“That’s new,” I say, squinting at the crackling light running over the palm of my hand.  Real fancy, real nice to look at.  Doesn’t feel like much, but I bet I could make something like this hurt if I wanted to.  Nice little add-on, this.  I like what I got — I’m the best with what I got — but power is power.  Nothing wrong with having a little extra in your punches.

Except this ain't anything I can do. This ain't anything I should be able to do.  That’s pretty fucking strange, isn’t it?

“What are you doing,” says Killjoy, voice sharp.  

The face he’s making is probably hilarious.  It’s less interesting than the way light curls over my fingers, trailing over my wrist as I twist my hand this way and that.  If I let it, maybe it’d spread further up my arm.  How much higher could it go, really?

I don’t get to find out, because Killjoy snatches my hand, snapping his own fingers over it until only light you can see has to fight its way out from where skin meets skin.  And then it’s not even that, dying away until it goes dark completely.

Oh this bitch.  

“Well, ain’t you forward, huh?” I say, baring my teeth.  “What d’you think you’re doin’?”

“You’ve got a concussion,” Killjoy reminds me, like he thinks I forgot.  I ain’t forgetting nothing, got it?  It’s easy to take care of — just a little thought, and maybe it’s taking a little more effort, but the skin knits up just fine.

I sweep a hand lightly over the back of my head, just to make sure everything’s in order.  The swelling’s gone down, the bruising’s gone, eyesight seems pretty clear.  Headache and bodyache’s still there, which is annoying.  There’s been some improvement, but that’s not what I’m looking for.  It should be gone.  Is it not physical damage, then?  What, is it psychosomatic or something?  That’s a shit explanation.

It’s only after my self-checkup that I realize that Killjoy is still talking.  “— can take you to the clinic,” he’s saying, sounding very earnest.  He’s still holding my hand.

I shake him off impatiently.  “That’s unnecessary,” I say, and push open the shiny glass doors so I can find Asher or Emily or someone and go on with my life.

I don’t get more than a few steps outside before I realize I’m running headfirst into a problem. Namely, that the outside that greets me is not the university.   Not even close.  Not unless the mayor sent the entire city crashing down and decided to rebuild from the ground up.  Not unless everyone collectively decided to take overly-caffeinated fashion students’ advice when it came to everyday wear.  Not unless somebody made far too many innovations in automobile development and decided to implement them on every vehicle I can see here.  Not unless all of that happened while I was passed out.

No.  I should have noticed that before, too.  I don’t pass out.  Alcohol fucks me up, sure.  But I’ve never drunk so much that I got knocked unconscious.  I’ve never been able to drink enough to knock me unconscious.

…I remember now.  I didn’t go out drinking last night.  No, what happened was that some asshole attacked me— or, you know, tried to attack me for maybe a solid minute before I started beating the shit out of him for daring to ambush me.  I was doing quite a good job, if I do say so myself. I know I broke some bones, broke his face, had my hands around his neck, and it would have only taken me a second or so more -- just one good squeeze! -- to pulp his windpipe, and he would be dead. 

But I didn’t get to that part.  The last thing I remember was putting just enough pressure on his throat to make him choke, and then… nothing.  That’s it. That’s all I have before I woke up in the cafe.

I’m missing something.  I know I am.   It’s pissing me off.   

That fuckwad.  What did he do?  Clearly I made a mistake letting him breathe for more than a minute or so, I should’ve just killed him on sight.  If I find him again — no, when I find him again — I’m going to squeeze the answers out of him and grind his skull into paste, I’m gonna make him wish he was never born, I’m gonna make sure he’s in so many fucking pieces no one can tell his —

“Hey,” says Killjoy, because I suppose he followed me out or something. “We really need to get you to a doctor.  I know it doesn’t seem like a big deal, but even if it’s not a concussion, it’s safer to get it looked at, you know?  You said you were on university insurance, right? So it’s not like it’s even going to cost —”

And then he shuts up, because I have him by the collar of his shirt and he’s suddenly bent over enough that he’s barely an inch away from my face.

“Please.  Would you kindly keep your mouth closed,” I say.  “If not, I’m afraid I’ll have to make you choke on your own teeth.  Do I make myself clear.”

Killjoy doesn’t close his mouth.  It’s hanging open gently, his pretty blue eyes wide and shocked.  But I suppose he understands the spirit of what I’m asking for, because he doesn’t say anything, even when I let him go and kindly push him back upright.

Well, no, actually, there is one thing.  There’s a name he whispers: Allison.  But it’s so quiet that I can generously pretend I can’t hear it and let him keep his mouth in one piece.  I leave him standing there, and set off.

Where?  It doesn’t matter.  I walk through black-paved streets and stone-slab sidewalks, speed past too-tall buildings and too-bright colors and hoping for — I don’t know. One familiar building.  Something, anything, that I can recognize.

But… nothing. It’s like I’m an entirely different country.  An entirely different world.

How long was I out?  Am I missing memories?  What did that sad excuse for an ambusher do?

As if this day couldn’t get any better, Killjoy finds me at the entrance of a tiny, cramped alleyway, shadowed by buildings rising tall around.

“You just never fuckin’ give up, do you?” I say, sharp smile sliding easily across my face. I don’t know where I am, but I know I’m a fair distance away from where I started.  He can’t have just coincidentally run into me.  He had to have either followed me or known where I’d end up.  It doesn’t matter which.  Either option means that he’s still thinking of me.

He starts when I turn around and face him — he probably didn’t expect me to figure out he was there that quickly, huh? Well, I have to give him credit, he really is quiet.  And he stays quiet, too, even as he scrambles backwards when I start stalking towards him.

“You gonna tell me I need a doctor again, huh?”

Go on.  Say it.  I gave you a warning, I told you what I’d do to you, it’s not my fault you can’t listen.  I’m looking forward to it, actually!  Thank you for showing up just when I needed stress relief!

“… not Allison,” Killjoy says, so softly I barely hear it.

“Pardon?”

“You’re not Allison,” he hisses, and oh, is that a sight — his eyes are aglow, the light behind them illuminating their blue so that it shines against the darkness.  How pretty.  How valuable.  Even more so than when I thought the only thing that stood out about them was the color.  Really, how good of a fight must he be that he still has them?

I’m gonna find out.

[an-jae]

PERIODIC FLOW: Chapter-2

Days of periods: Those are normal days of pain, that are familiar to every girl. The pain that can't be reflected but only succumbed. Cramps, headache, bodyaches, mood swings.... All seem to be quite easy to list out. Dealing with them, all together, is the same as standing in a queue but realising that the shop is closed. It meets no end. All the days, the river flows, surely erodes all the surfaces it touches.

The period is quite sensitive. Taking care of sanitation and hygiene is of utmost importance. Often women neglect this aspect amongst work or being unaware. May it be sanitary pads, tampons, menstrual cups or reusable napkins; all of them have to be handled with care, changed regularly and clean thoroughly. The area down there is cellular-ly hyperactive. The excitedly upset organ leads to unexpected and peculiar arousals throughout the body. At times, one faces mild to extreme cramps; others face sore abdomen. Headaches , backpains and leg pains are not new either. Afterall they are the side effects of the romance before.

Clothes are forbidden. You can't wear your favourite white, peach, yellow or any light coloured dresses or pants, esp. Its not exactly that you can't wear it, but it's just that you should avoid. After all, it's not everywhere that Red polkadots suit.

Your meeting are gonna be hell annoying. Your classes are gonna be tiresome. Your dates or hangouts would be stressful. Not only it affects your body but it's does affects your beauty. Your skin feels more oily or in some cases, bit ichy. Aches and pimples are complusory guests.

The posture of how you sit and sleep, are also credited. If one is sitting with her legs crossed, where her legs are raised up and her hips rise high when she's lying up side down, then trust me, all she wants is to stay in that position till eternity, even it she appears like a mashed banana.

Another thing that comes as plot twist is a urge to have sex. It doesn't happen with everyone. The young or non- hormonals wouldn't get a single idea of this paragraph. But those who would, will undeniably agree with the arousal feelings. You want to remain a mashed banana but still want Netflix and chill.

You may not want to change your posture, talk to anybody, go out anywhere or even move. But you still want to do is make out with someone. Maybe it's the chemicals inside that work but those effects are irresistible. Your mouth waters on every guy and your brain has already pictured the scene of you and him. At the end of the day, you can't succumb to this desire or you may even. It's always different for different people.

But all the days during periods are hectic stressing , moody and deliberately painful, in a nutshell.

[drdebasmitadeypsychiatrist]

How to Overcome Depression

Depression is as commonplace in today’s world as is obesity. Whether we accept it or not, these disorders are the price we pay for ‘progress of civilization’. We live in a fast paced hi-tech world, surrounded by every possible material comfort. Why then, are we unhappy?

This is because we hardly have the time to stop and enjoy ourselves. We are so caught up in the rat race that we cannot socialize beyond Facebook, Twitter or Instagram. When we are having a bad day, we can hardly expect family and friends to drop their work and come rushing to comfort us. Everyone has work commitments. So do we. Whoever heard of taking a day off from work to nurse heartache? A headache or flu would make a better excuse. Sadly, despite all the talk about the importance of mental health, we are still embarrassed to talk about our depression in public. So we keep the feelings bottled up within and brave another day at work. Before long, we are in the middle of a major depressive episode. But do we realize that?

Depression is a great masquerader. It may present as insomnia, loss of appetite, weight loss, headache, malaise, generalized bodyache, palpitations, inability to concentrate or remember things. Unless we are careful about what is going on in our head, it is usually quite a while before we realize that these are actually signs of depression. And even when we do, we are clueless about how to deal with it.

There is a rule of thumb regarding when you should rush to your psychiatrist immediately. If you are having suicidal thoughts or have lost your sleep and appetite for a few days in a row, do not wait any further. Usually when you realize that the usual orderliness of your life, be it in terms of personal, professional or social functioning, has been seriously disrupted, you must seek professional help. Many people resort to meditation videos and online pep talks, while others think it is wise to party hard to wash away the blues. But these are not effective measures in clinical depression. A balanced mix of psychotherapy (read, counselling) and pharmacotherapy (read, medications) will yield better and faster results. And yes, there are a few standard misconceptions about treatment. Treatment for depression does not necessarily continue an entire lifetime. And the antidepressants do not make one drowsy and stupid. If at all you experience any side-effects, speak to your psychiatrist before abruptly discontinuing treatment.

There are couple of other things that you should not do. Do not take alcohol or other recreational drugs while on treatment. Do not shy away from taking a break from work if you need it. Do not binge on social media or Netflix just because you find trouble falling asleep. And more importantly, do not try to hide your problems from the world. Being depressed is as legit as going down with flu, so there is nothing to be embarrassed about.

Just accept that you are presently unwell, follow your psychiatrist’s advice meticulously, give yourself time to heal and you will bounce back shortly!

[brydey]

#2

To my self,

When you were 16 you had rules;

Well, now we have goals. And practice makes perfect but it can also make you sick. Tread carefully. Your sanity is as important as your appearance. You cannot drag others down with you if you fall.

When you fall, youll pick yourself back up and keep walking. You will not cry when your hair falls out. You will not play as a victim. These are your choices. Choose them, but play your cards wisely. Keep collected.

1. Your first goal ; Drink water. 2ltres every day! Why? Because your skin needs it. Your metabolism will work like it should too.

2. Secondly, we are going to chose foods that nourish the body. In the case that we have to eat, we eat the good things. You can chose sugar, but it should be from fruit not chocolate. You can chose carbs, chose a potato not bread. Step by step youll be making healthier food choices with less footprints left on your fat storage silos. Less work for your body and more it can use to keep you mentally together. Youll be thin and sane.

3. You need to move your body babe. Stretch! Stretching is not hard. You know that sweetheart. You need to tell your depressed persona that laziness is not ok. Depression and laziness is not your friend. Laying in bed doesnt feel as good as it should and remind yourself of that. You'll get headaches and bodyaches for lying around for hours. You know after youve done something bedtime is so much more rewarding. So dont you see? Movement, stretching, walking and strength training is rewarding. It will feel good. It feels BETTER. It will change you. You want to change do you? This is the formula. So follow it ,

4. Be kind. Do not be mean to yourself. It doesnt help. We are beating the ugly out without the ugly thoughts being allowed to come in. Nourishing is listening to yourself and following challenges at a reasonable pace that you can handle so you can sustain yourself. If you get the bad thoughts you should redirect them to remind yourself why youre doing what youre doing without judgement. There is a goal. You will reach it. Focus. On. The. Bigger. Picture. If you cant look in the mirror baby girl, then dont. Pick up your shoulders and chin and keep walking. Visulise your perfect self and go about your day on-track.

Punishment is beyond you. You are worth your desires. So listent to me. Listen to you.