#it’s 6:30am i’ve been up since 5:30

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Random Thought: Klaus Mikaelson

Insomnia

Klaus would be happy to stay up with you whenever you can’t sleep.

He doesn’t know that you have insomnia at first and it takes him a little while to realize. He is a bit put off by the fact that you don’t stay overnight at his house when you spend the night together though he stays with you as often as he can. You would be up all night, in and out of sleep on occasion with him wrapped around you while you read on your phone knowing that you would sleep even less in a different bed.

The first night you finally stayed with him (after he begged, planning to have his chef make you both breakfast in bed and show you how nice staying with him can be) he snuggled you to his chest and fell asleep around midnight. He assumed you were asleep too and the only problem was there was no plug close enough to charge your phone so once it died, you were just laying there unable to sleep.

After an hour and a half you needed to move and slithered your way out of his grip, giving him a pillow to hold onto. You went to the bathroom before settling into the giant beanbag he had put in his art room for you and hunkering down with a book. You only planned to stay there until you felt like you could drift off to sleep and before you knew it, it was 3:30am and the door creaked open to reveal a half asleep Klaus with a confused look on his face.

‘What are you doing? It’s 3:30, my Princess should be fast asleep.’ His voice was deep and rough with sleep as he crouched beside you, caressing your thigh as he awaited your response.

‘I just can’t sleep, it’s okay. You should go back to bed Nik.’ You didn’t want to tell him about your insomnia, you were embarrassed that your body can’t do one of the most basic human functions.

‘Hey.’ He took hold of your chin and brought it up to face him, clearly seeing you weren’t being truthful and waiting patiently for you to come clean (something he only does for you). ‘Talk to me lovely. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.’

You took his hand in yours and sighed. ‘I don’t sleep well, ever, I never have. Not since I was 8 or 9 at least, I was diagnosed with insomnia when I was 10. It’s okay. Go back to sleep Nik, I-‘

‘Why didn’t you tell me? All this time I’ve been staying with you and you’ve been awake, unable to sleep while I could’ve helped you.’ You had to smile at that, Nik always thought he could fix everything that you had a problem with, hating when you were sick or upset. ‘I’ll make you some tea. Go lay back in bed Princess.’ He helped you up before going to make you tea.

Klaus made you chamomile tea every night from then on, you don’t know what he did to it as you’d tried tea a million times, but it gave you sleep for a solid 5-6 hours before you woke up again. Klaus would stay up with you the nights you still couldn’t sleep, sometimes compelling you to sleep on nights it was awful. He also took to taking naps with you in the daytime when tiredness overwhelmed you, it was actually something he enjoyed quite a bit.

Klaus finding out about your insomnia actually doubled your snuggle time so it was 100% worth it.

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

Random Thoughts

[httpscomexe]

Muzzle

Summary: You can’t lock up a Stark.

(Find what I'm currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Bucky x Reader (Some Winter Soldier POV)

Warnings: Stalking, kind of kidnapping, mentions of past violence, individual warnings per chapter.) It will start becoming 18+ next chapter.

Tags: @scott-loki-barnes @cjand10

Word Count: 2898 (Find all chapters here) Chapter 4

The Winter Soldier's POV

5AM, she’s awake, the sound of her alarm bringing her out of her head. She stretches for about 5 minutes before ultimately deciding she’s not getting up yet.

5:30AM, she wakes up again, but this time to the sound of a bunch of students outside her door. She stretches for about 5 minutes, and by that time the hallways are more relaxed, so she slowly gets out of bed, then goes into the bathroom to shower, brush her teeth, and do her hair. Along with anything else she might do.

By 6AM she’s out of the bathroom, and she goes to her little kitchen area to make herself something to eat. Every Monday it was a sandwich, but other days it was anything she could find from instant noodles to leftover lasagna.

6:15, she’s getting dressed for class.

6:30 she’s swinging her bag over her shoulders and she’s out of her dorm. And that’s when I make my move and climb through the window.

I leave the tree that’s right next to her window, all I have to do is reach over and lift it up since she thinks it’s useless to lock considering she’s on the third floor, so chances are, no one would be able to break in. Except me.

She’s different. There’s something about her that neither me or the Winter Soldier can understand. I know I had clear instructions to kill anyone on sight, and the plan at three in the morning was to shoot her then give myself stitches, but as soon as her eyes locked onto mine, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hurt her.

I’ve gone through her drawers, and learnt just about everything about her. Her name is Y/N, but none of her papers had her last name on it, and her ID was always with her so I never got to learn her last name, but soon I’d learn it from her personally. I just didn’t understand why her last name was so hard to find.

I haven’t been caught yet by her, I know her schedule like the back of my hand. She leaves her dorm at 6:30AM for her first class, then she comes back at 5PM every day, when her social battery finally runs out, but I’m normally out of the dorm room by 4:30.

Today though, she hadn’t come back like usual. I waited, and waited, and waited. I hadn’t been able to watch her yesterday, I had something that needed to be attended to. So when she hadn’t been in the bed this morning I was already confused. I wanted to assume that maybe she had gone to a party, gotten drunk, and stumbled into some boys bed, but she wasn’t like that. So I checked the camera I hooked up in her room, only to discover she had left with a few familiar faces, including Nick Fury. Now I don’t want to be considered a threat to the Avengers or to S.H.I.E.L.D, but if they lay a single hand on her, I won’t hesitate to blow out even Steve Rogers brain. She. Is. Mine…

Your POV

“Well, Ms. Jasper.” Agent Ross says. “Now we definitely know you’re hiding something.”

“Pretty sure my record is clean.”

“Oh yea it is. But maybe don’t use the name your father told you to use as an alias.” He tells you, sliding the tablet they had been using to look up your name over to you. On the screen was a clear image of your information, you had hacked into government systems when you were around the age of 10, and you had added your fake name to the systems in order to live your fake life. “I asked Stark to look it up, he swore he recognized the name, and your middle name gave it away. I mean come on. ‘Jasper Anthony Stark?’ Your father gave you that middle name for the sake of his own ego, no one else would do that.” He crosses his arms. “So Stark will be down here in a few minutes to talk to you, Y/N.” He finishes, then collects his belongings and leaves the room. Leaving you alone with Ned.

“You’re the smartest and also the absolutely stupidest person I know Y/N.” Ned whispers, hoping the A in the AV system wouldn’t pick up on him, which you were sure it would.

“Well just because I’m smart doesn’t mean I make good decisions. I mean look at me.” You uncross your arms and hold them out to make a point. “I’m not exactly a normal teenager.” You tell him, then lower your tone to a volume you know their system won’t pick up on. “I literally kill and torture people for a living!”

“Stark is on his way now.” A voice says over the speaker in the corner.

“Do you still have that bracelet I gave you?” You ask Ned, referring to the friendship bracelet that read ‘BFF’ on his wrist.

“Yea, why?”

“Hey, Ned.”

“Hey Mr. Stark.” Ned's voice raises by about 20 octaves as soon as Tony Stark enters the room. Then instead of doing something normal like I don’t know sitting on the chair, he awkwardly sits on the table, one leg on, one leg off.

“Now I was told that someone in this room is of high importance.” He says, staring directly at you. “I’m assuming it isn’t Ned, he’s just spider man's friend.” Ned voices a sound of disappointment, causing you to look over at him then you stare at the floor, not able to look your dad in the eyes any longer.

“Well I uh, have some really important work I need to do. So I think your guys should totally give me a ride back to my dorm.”

“Or you can actually look and speak to me like I’m your dad.”

“Except you're not.” You spit out, your voice laced with hatred. “You’ve done nothing but cause me pain ever since I’ve left you and you haven’t even made the slightest effort in the past eight years to try and find me.”

“Haven’t made an effort? I have been sending fucking search teams to France for fucks sake Y/N. It’s not my fault you’re good at hiding.”

“I’ve never left Manhattan.” You say plainly. “Unless it’s for work, but I’m in school right now so I don’t have work.”

“Where are you working?”

“None of your business, I’m 18 and a freshman in college.”

“You’re my daughter.”

“You sure as hell don’t act like I am.”

“How the hell did you manage to survive eight years on your own?”

“Someone took me in.”

“A piece of shit may I add.” Ned says suddenly, breaking the back and fourth between you and Stark.

“Oh yea how so?” Stark asks Ned.

“Well-” Your hand quickly covers his mouth, preventing him or at least making sure he couldn’t say whatever he was about to say.

Yea, you told Ned a majority of the abusive, and traumatizing things that happened to you while you were being cared for by a man named Ezekiel, or you at least had a roof over your head and were fed. Most days.

“So I would assume he wasn’t a good caretaker?”

“He’s my dad, that's all you need to know.”

“Pretty sure that’s my title.”

“Not after you abandoned me.”

“Abandoned you?”

“Uh huh.”

“Mr. Stark. Ms. Potts is calling, would you like me to answer or are you busy?” A new voice came over the speakers, it sounded like Jarvis.

“Yes you can answer, I’m done in here, and give strict instructions to everyone in the building to not let this girl out, Ned you can leave whenever, preferably now.” Stark says quickly before standing up. “Hey, hun, what’s up?” You hear him say, assumingly speaking to Virginia, and you turn your head as Ned speaks again.

“Family reunion, yay.”

About a week passed. You weren’t allowed to leave the tower, but you were given a small room to call yours. It had a bed, and a TV hanging on the wall across from it. It also had an amazing view from the city since one of the entire walls was a window, luckily, Stark is a tech geek so the windows can dim if you need some darkness. There was also a small bathroom and a walk-in closet, with all the little necessities you would need and a bunch of clothes.

You weren’t allowed to go to school, but Stark found a way for you to do everything online, which you hated.

You hated not being able to see your friends. You hated not being able to blast your music in your ears in class, or staying up until three in the morning missing your pink little toy. After doing nothing but complaining, they tried endlessly to offer you things like tablets and other expensive items to get you to shut up.

You settled with a pet fish. A cute little betta fish, she was white but she looked chrome when she swam around in her tank, a big one, which was another thing you had asked for. You named her Penelope, and she was the only thing keeping you sane.

“How’s the fish?”

“Her name is Penelope.” You told Sam Wilson as he just walks into your room, no knocking or anything. You don’t bother looking up from your tablet that you were drawing on as he enters.

“Well how is she?”

“Fine.”

“How are you?”

“Fine.”

“Do you need anything?”

“Fine.”

“Are you gonna actually say anything other than fine?”

“Fine.”

“Okay.” He sighs heavily and walks in front of Penelope's tank. “You know, part of the deal on you having this fish was you cooperate with us.”

“There’s nothing to cooperate on, you all know I’m his daughter, you just won’t let me go.”

“We won’t let you go cause you’re the only civilian we know that’s been in contact with Barnes and the only Civilian he seems to listen to.”

“Just a coincidence.”

“It can’t be a coincidence, Y/N.” He tells you, stepping close to your bed where you were sitting so you power off your tablet and look at him. “I don’t think you understand what it means when we tell you he can’t control his emotions when he’s being fucking brainwashed.” He gets closer, until he can whisper and you’ll still hear him. “So you better start talking little girl.” His tone threatens. “This man is a menace and a threat to society. Where. Is. He.”

“I. Don’t. Know.” You tell him, getting in his face to match his anger, you couldn’t voice how genuinely annoyed you’ve been over the past week, with the constant same questions you’re almost forced to make up a lie and tell them you’ve been hiding Barnes up your ass.

“You have a lot of fucking nerve, and I’d like to know where the hell you got it from.” He spits in your face as he speaks and it makes you wanna do nothing more than kick his future generation while you still have the chance.

“You learn to defend yourself when you’re in the streets while everyone else your age is singing the ABC’s.”

“Yea well I guess only good kids learn their ABC’s.” Sam tell you almost under his breath, then he taps Penelope’s fish tank two or three times before leaving your room, closing the door behind him, then you quickly get back into your tablet.

You close the drawing you had started and you go back into the coding for the towers security system that you had gotten into fairly easy. This way you could see everything, from the position of every security guard and Avenger, to every code that every camera was given, and you finally planned your way out, which would finally happen tonight so you could get back to your normal life.

“Where is she? How could she had possibly gotten out? I had every guard, every Agent, and every fucking Camera focused on her room.” Tony Stark's voice could be heard from across the lobby of the tower as he walks next to Steve Rogers and Happy Hogan.

“Well sir, it says here that she had hacked into the system, matter of fact she’s been doing it for a few days now.” Happy says through closed teeth, slightly annoyed after being pulled out of a very important meeting with quite literally the vice president. “And here it says…” He uses his index finger to gently push his glasses back down on his nose, and he looks down at the paper receipts. He decided it would be best to print out everything since apparently ‘paper cannot be hacked,’ even though what's on the papers is what was on the computers. “She basically got in, figured out the routes of every guard, figured out everyone's schedule, and then found out she had exactly one minute, thirty seven seconds, and six hundred and eight milliseconds of a window at exactly eleven thirteen at night.”

“She’s really fucking fast if she’s able to make it down from the thirteenth floor to the first floor in less than two minutes, while avoiding every bit of security I have.”

“Well like I said, she found a window, and it was exactly one minute and-”

“Thirty seven seconds, I know.” He groans. “I just can’t believe I have a ‘window’ in my security. Rogers?”

“Yes, Stark?” Rogers slows the three of them down to stop at the snack counter, grabbing a red, white, and blue donut which he takes a huge bite of.

“How would you suggest we fill this supposed ‘gap’ in our security?”

“Well you could hire two more men, and then set different shifts for everyone.”

“Two men? Why two?”

“Well, for every shift change there’s always two men.”

“Always two men huh? Well go ahead and tell one of the pairs that they’re gonna be alone, I don’t feel like hiring anyone.” Stark tells Rogers, but Steve just gives Happy a look and a nod, obviously not going to listen to Stark as they watch him approach the snack counter and ask them for his favourite donut.

“Do you have any more donuts with red, white, and blue sprinkles?”

“Ugh, finally.” You stretch and undo your hair as you finally get back to your dorm room after a whole week. You feel for the counter in the dark, then use your muscle memory to just make your way back to your bed, the one you so genuinely missed. “GAH! What the fuck!” You scream as you plop down onto the bed and quickly fall off as you land on something hard, then you quickly reach over to turn on the bedside lamp. “No.” You say quickly as the familiar blue eyes meet yours. “You need to get out, I want nothing to do with you.” Stressed, you run your hands through your hair before reaching for the man and trying to pull him out of your bed.

“Hey come on, calm down.” You freeze.

“Did you just say a full sentence without it sounding like it was scripted.” You stayed frozen, your fists were clutching both the centre of his chest and his bicep.

“Yea I’m a bit more normal when I’m not being brainwashed.” He tells you, and you gently let go of him.

“Wait, how many times have you slept in my bed without me being here?”

“Only this week.”

“And with me being here.”

“Only after you’ve had a long day.”

“That’s not nice to know.” You admit, still staring down at him before he finally sits up.

He wasn’t wearing his muzzle and he wasn’t dressed in a thick tactical vest like the two times you’d last seen him. Instead he was wearing a red henley, a dark T-shirt underneath, some jeans, and a heavy green jacket. You also noticed the filled black bag sitting on the floor next to the bed. “I kinda still need you to leave.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“Yea well sucks, I need you too.”

“Baby why are you shaking?”

“Shaking? I’m not- baby- shaking? Wait baby what?” Your brain absolutely fails, then he stands up, easily towering over you as he stares down into your eyes.

“Who’s the one that sounds weird when they talk now?” He asks you, and you want to back talk with a thousand sarcastic remarks, but the second your lips part, your voice is caught in your throat as the side of his index finger rests under your chin. “Now where have you been?”

“I-” You stutter. “The Avengers think I’m in control of you.”

“They think you are? You mean they know you are?”

“What? But I’m not.”

“No I’m not… what’re you talking about?” You ask, and he leans down, resting his forehead on yours.

“Doll, from the moment I walked into your dorm the first day I saw you, I have not been able to get you off my mind. I was the Winter Soldier when I walked into your room the first time, I wasn’t James.” His hands gently cup your face.

“You are in control of my every thought and my every move.”

[missegyptiana]

i’m so tired i’ve been up since 6:30am, had a three hour class, now waiting for my 5:30-7pm class, my body hurts and aches. i cant go back home cause it’s a 2 hour bus ride so i have nothing to do every wednesday from 11:30am-5:30pm, school is hell on earth man

[umichenginabroad]

Week 6: School, Carnival, and (American) Football

This week, school picked up with my first exam I had to take since coming here. Back in Michigan, I pretty much have a formula down for how to study/prepare for exams, but the style of teaching is different here, so I had to re-adjust and spend a little extra time than I normally would have needed. That’s partially why this post is being written a few days later than usual…

In addition to my classes, I’m also doing research here at Comillas. We’re researching a new type of 3D printing resin to see if it’s biocompatible and can be used to help support bone regeneration. I’m really enjoying it, and I’m glad this is something I decided to pursue. It’s teaching me a lot about global engineering and what it might be like to work in a place outside of the US in industry. Here, I have to navigate small things that I wouldn't have imagined could be different. Most things are in Spanish, like when recording data or setting up a machine, the computers have different keyboards so symbols take a little longer to find, and the biggest thing: with numbers, decimal points are commas and commas are decimal points. The first time I had to put measurements into an excel sheet, I broke all the formulas because I didn’t realize that I had to type 12,67 for 12.67. I’m really glad I learned this now, since mistaking a number like 137,234 for one hundred and thirty seven thousand instead of 137 point 234 would have been a massive mistake to make. It’s also made me more aware of documenting things or just labeling things in a way that’s more universal. For example, back in Michigan, if I had to label a test with the date, I’d just write mm/dd/yy, but here, it’s flipped, so now I label everything with the month spelled out to remove any potential confusion. I can imagine how these small differences could create big challenges working with coworkers from around the world in a global engineering company. 

This past week was also a very special week in most of Europe— it was Carnival! I really wanted to take advantage of the fact that I was here in February for Carnival, and I went to Venice this weekend. Venice’s carnival is the oldest, and it was so amazing to see the whole city coming together to celebrate with their extravagant handmade costumes and street shows. I think it was the first time I had seen that many people collectively celebrate something together. It was really amazing to see and be a part of, and I think this tradition and culture is something that’s pretty rare to see in the United States just because of how relatively young it is.

I also was able to see some Carnival performances in Madrid. A little different from Venice’s elegant and grand costumes, the people in Madrid dressed up in traditional and more folk-like clothing, playing simple instruments and singing popular songs that everyone knew. A popular event during Carnival in Madrid is the Burial of the Sardine on Ash Wednesday, indicating the end of Carnival. There was a big parade/funeral procession throughout the streets, and it ended in a symbolic burning at Casa de Campo. Learning about traditions such as this and seeing everyone participating and coming together for it has been one of my favorite parts of living in Madrid so far. 

And a side note about Venice: going to Venice was my first time in Italy, and I immediately loved being there! The mountains surrounding Italy were absolutely gorgeous, and my flight out was probably the most beautiful flight I’ve ever been on. I can’t wait to go back!!

This week was also the Super Bowl! Probably my favorite sporting event of the whole year, I was really excited for this game since the 49ers were playing in it :) It was definitely a different experience watching it here in Madrid. The game started at 12:30am and went until around 5:30am, which was absolutely brutal. I somehow stayed awake, and went to a club to watch it, since most other places don’t stay open until 5:30 in the morning. They had a big screen up, and there were so many people there. On the theme of community and coming together, watching the Super Bowl felt a little comforting— we were all there feeling the emotions of the sport together. Even with people rooting for different teams, it still felt nice to be surrounded by everyone collectively watching the game, and it was the first time since being here that I was around that many Americans. Now, as for the game itself, iykyk :(, but I was still glad I watched it all. 

To make up for last week’s missed drawing, here’s a drawing of the sunset over Templo de Debod!

Chao,

Isha Venkatesh

Mechanical Engineering

Comillas — Madrid, Spain

[what-dat-ritalin-do]

#3

Tuesday, 21st Nov 2023

12:58 PM

A bit of a late start again today. I woke up early and managed to go out for breakfast with my family. At around 8:30 AM my breakfast was as follows: 

Hor Fun noodle soup with shredded chicken

A glass of iced Ipoh White Coffee 

Ondeh-ondeh 

I sort of goofed off for a bit before finally showering and getting dressed for the day. I took my medication about 10 minutes ago so it should have started to take effect by the time I’m writing this entry. 

It has been about 12 days since I last took medication. Partially because of the holiday period, and also because of some other reasons. I think I was a bit hesitant to take it after the last two times because of the jarring reactions. For one thing, the experiences themselves were jarring enough– one moment I’m in complete control of my body (noticeably more than I usually am), and the next I lose all control of it to the point where I can’t even lift my body out of its stationary position. Then there’s comparing the experiences together. In attempt #1 I was fluctuating between flurry and clear states, in attempt #2 I blacked out entirely before being awarded one hour of uninterrupted lucidity. 

I kept on trying to accommodate these reactions and it became a big obstacle. It became a big 4-hour block I was trying to fit into my already erratic schedule. I couldn’t even fit 1-2 hour errands (accounting for the amount of time it takes for me to get dressed, travel, and actually run the errands) into my day. Trying to fit in a whole 4-hour block of potentially feeling possessed was just impossible. 

I managed to recollect myself and readjust my perspective: I’m going to see how the medication reacts with my therapy sessions. I had originally planned not to take medication on the days of my sessions, especially after attempt #1 because I was afraid I’d have such a bad reaction, I’d miss them. But this time around, I wondered if I would behave differently if I was medicated. This is how I “convinced myself” to take the medication. 

The last hour of the 4-hour active block seems to be the most stable so I’m going to try (*) to see if it’ll affect my sessions.

4:19 PM 

I’m done with therapy and I’m currently writing from the building’s parking lot so my girlfriend can pick me up (is it relevant to mention I’m gay?). She might come at any moment so my writing may suddenly cut off. 

The effects should be steadily wearing off soon and I’m feeling jittery and dizzy. Perhaps because I talked a lot during my session. I remember speaking at a slightly faster pace today, but I think I tripped over my words a lot too because it felt like my thoughts were moving faster than my mouth was. I haven’t eaten since 8:30AM so maybe I need to eat something. I’ll be running errands with my girlfriend for a bit so I’ll grab something to eat then. 

While I was writing the last paragraph from my first check in of today, I experienced a sudden numbness in my wrist and palm. This occurred at the (*) symbol. This was preceded by an abrupt heaviness in my head. I almost face-planted onto my desk and my body felt limp. It didn’t last very long, maybe less than 5 minutes. When I came to, I felt a stiffness in my hand. I had planned to write more, but I found it hard to hold a pencil. It wasn’t, however, difficult for me to type. I was in the mood to communicate something and I was able to type, so I decided to do something I’ve been meaning to do for a couple of weeks now: Open up a blog and type out all these journal entries so it’s easier for anyone who’s interested to keep up.

My girlfriend is here so I’ll be continuing this entry after being able to walk around and have something to eat. 

6:52 PM

I’m back and my head is still slightly dizzy, but I’m feeling a lot better. I had a small chicken wrap and some iced tea after doing some shopping around a local mall. I got a minimal amount of physical activity and some carbs from the sugar in the sweet tea and the wrap so I have some energy to continue typing this entry. 

Yes, typing. I didn’t have too much trouble writing the previous check-in in my journal, but now that I’m home, for some reason my wrist feels very heavy so this final check-in of the day will be typed. I’m not sure why this is happening. After mentioning it during my session, S suggested it might be because my dosage is too high. I had the same hunch, but we both agreed I shouldn’t change anything until I get to see Dr. J again on the 29th.

I feel the effects, wearing off. My mind is slowing down. 

I remember my thoughts moving very fast when I was in today’s session. I had mentioned in previous sessions (before we even concluded a diagnosis) that my brain felt like a busy central station. I had many “trains of thought” going off at the same time and it was difficult to address them all at the same time. I’d get so overwhelmed that I couldn’t fit all of these differing (sometimes conflicting) “conversations” into my head, I’d get overwhelmed and reach an impasse where I just get catatonic. 

But on medication– particularly in my most lucid hour– it was like being on one singular train track, steadily chugging along at a fast pace. I wasn’t a terminal where many thoughts converged and I had to divide my attention to satisfy all of them. I was just “riding” one state of mind where I was not only dynamic (as opposed to stationary), I was moving in one stable direction. 

The next challenge is being able to point myself in the “right” direction. I have the energy and motivation to move. I want to move and do something, but I can’t seem to do what I’m supposed to do. I’m supposed to be doing research for my final year thesis (something I’ve been struggling to do for three years and is largely the focus of even why I was looking for a diagnosis), but I just don’t want to. 

I don’t want to do it.

That sentence was so hard for me to say because of how much weight it carried. Money for one thing. It’s not cheap to re-do a thesis, let alone three times. There’s a lot of guilt in it. A lot of baggage. But it was so easy to say it out loud in the therapy room today when I was medicated. 

The weight wasn’t there when I said it. I could just say it out loud– multiple times even. I didn’t feel like I had to “earn” the right to say it. My thinking behind that decision was simple:

I don’t want to do my thesis -> I want to know why -> I’ll tell my therapist about it -> We’ll confront it together and get to the bottom of it.

It seems so logical doesn’t it? It seems so straightforward? So why did it take me three years to be able to do this?

Being on medication is really amazing in a terrible sort of way. 

I had discussed in a previous session with S that I was afraid of feeling like my life was “stolen” from me because I didn’t find out I had ADHD sooner. That if I had gotten medication–or any kind of treatment at all– I might have been more successful. I might have graduated “on time” with good results. I might have had multiple certifications. There was an endless sea of wasted potential and broken possibilities because I couldn’t sit down and focus on one thing at a time. 

Perhaps I’ll go into that in another entry. This one is long enough already. The conclusion we came to in that session is that we can’t change the past, but we can change the future. Now, I have a diagnosis (that I worked very hard to get), medication, and a structured treatment plan. 

In fact we discussed part of the plan today! I’m writing down my “therapy homework” for today so I can have some accountability: 

With CBT, we want to tackle that “I don’t want to do my thesis” thought by challenging the rationales that make it up. For example, currently my brain is like this:

Thought: I don’t want to do my thesis because I will not be able to complete reading and understanding one article in one hour” 

Behaviour: I avoid doing any reading. 

Feelings: I feel guilty I didn’t do any work even though I had time to do it. It makes me lose confidence and feel like I’m incompetent.

In order to change the rationale behind this thought, I have to challenge it.  I’m not terrible at research and I know I genuinely like and enjoy psychology. That’s the whole reason this blog exists! 

So I guess S decided to leverage on that and turn my homework into a little “data collection” activity. I’ll become my own experiment:

Aim: To systematically challenge thoughts that precede maladaptive behaviors

Statement to Disprove (Thought): I am unable to read and understand an article in one hour.

Method: Choose a day, take Ritalin, and read a “doable” article 

Record Findings: - Record thoughts and feelings (perhaps via a mood tracker) throughout the activity. - Be aware I may not get it right the first time. It’s not about “getting it right”, it’s about doing the activity. 

That should be enough for this very loooong entry. I’ll hopefully update tomorrow!

[fraznik]

Pain Diary

1:04pm, Monday Nov. 13: four days after period. *Worthy to note that pain on Friday(heavy flow day) was definitely increased. Saturday night, took Tylenol and my trazodone and had an AWFUL flare that could not be helped by ice packs and didn’t wind down until Tylenol kicked in ~45min after taking it. Pain remained until I fell asleep.

- Pain in lower left jaw starting around 12:30pm today. Feels like tooth pain; emergency X-Rays from 11/8 show no visible reasons for tooth pain in either side of my mouth. Pain is bad enough to make me want to take 800mg ibuprofen an hour and a half sooner than planned. Feels like it’s hitting in waves, a few minutes at a time. 1:09pm as I’m typing and pain has significantly decreased since 1:04pm.

- Pain on right side is minimal but existent. Feels like zaps or shocks in targeted areas(hinge of jaw, directly under cheekbone and the teeth in that area, under molars in jaw, under tooth #17, where the top of my ear attaches to my head, sometimes making it’s way to my temple. Mostly maxillary and mandibular), feeling a “shock” pain every couple of minutes. 1:22pm pain in the right side is more consistent now. Going to try to hold out until about 1:45 to take more ibuprofen.

MEDS TAKEN TODAY:

- 6:55AM 600MG IBUPROFEN

- 9:00AM OXCARBAZEPINE, PROPRANOLOL(oxcarbazepine is my regular medicine; makes me think it might be complex/TN2)

- 10:30AM 500MG TYLENOL

- 1:40PM 800MG IBUPROFEN

THINGS IM TRYING:

- ice packs: seem to bring some relief but I’m thinking about trying hot/warm compresses as the flare from Saturday night could not be quelled by 30+ minutes with the ice pack.

- Lidocaine numbing cream: supposed to get here on the 20th but praying it arrives sooner than that 🙏🏼

- +Plus CBD brand CBD oil with >0.3% THC, 5 pumps a day(I’ve been doing all five pumps in the morning but am going to try spreading them out)

- DELTA 8 prerolls from Saturday and Sunday seem to help *a little bit* directly after use, but bring on regular migraines which shortly exacerbate symptoms(may look into renewing medical card to see if delta 9 proves effective)

- HAIR IS UP: going to wash it tonight and wear it down tomorrow to see if there is any difference in pain.

- Mom’s CBD lotion: helps significantly enough to use it more than once a day(~4 times daily on the right side of my face, sometimes the left jaw area as well)

[adventureswithmultiplesclerosis]

August 9th

Things got a bit heated this morning 😅

My one hour workouts from 5:30am to 6:30am are the hardest push I’ve made in a while to upgrade my habits.

I’ve only been able to manage 3 days a week max.

30 minutes running and 25-30 minutes strength.

Been taking my vitamins. Had a few alcoholic beverages over the weekend but not enough for a hang over. Been 4 days since my last workout though. See if I have motivation to blast another one tomorrow to make up for it…

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

The best way I can describe this for someone who does not experience dissociating is like. Ur brain timekeeper’s notepad got wet and now everything from that time stretch is ripped up or bleeding into illegibility. Like this:

8:30AM: got out of bed, got dressed

9:00AMish: played Monopoly Go

9:30AMish: went into living room, took meds

10:00AMish: made food, ate food

10:45AMish: realized I wanted coffee, debated whether coffee was a good idea

11:00AMish: made coffee, went back into bedroom, drank coffee

11:30AM-12:30PM: therapy

12:40PMish: friend messages to ask to work on homework; needs 40min to eat food

12:40PM-1:20PM: go back into living room, talk to B, drink water

1:20PM: go back into bedroom, set up Discord, get on call

1:20PM-3???ish???: homework, then little break…

3?: Friend tells me to get ice, I eventually get up and get some ice in a little cup and come back, I hold the ice cube and eat it

3:23PM: I remember to look at the clock again

3:23PM-4:38PM: Homework again until I finish and friend gets off to make food

4:38PM: “oh I’m kinda tired but laying down in bed feels really boring”, go back to living room…

4:38PMish-5?30?ish?: lay down in living room on couch, not really nap despite trying

5?30?ish?: T gets home…

…

…

6?ish?: there is ice on my head. Joke around with T about why putting ice on my head is a bad idea. Eat ice cube. T puts on Bob’s Burgers…

…

swim back up, laugh at cartoon joke

…

swim back up. my body feels like static. it’s a commercial break. smth smth pretzels smth smth Halloween. T shows me a funny tweet on their phone.

…

it’s dark outside? when did that happen?

…

B comes downstairs to chat. He stands behind my seat on the couch. He and T talk about… something. Not sure. Staticky…

…

B is gone. I ask T if he went back upstairs. They give me a weird look and say “B went upstairs several minutes ago”.

…

Oh that scene in the cartoon is pretty funny. Haha, Louise is so wacky.

…

Gene is… setting tables? I guess? With pads and tampons? What’s going on? I turn to ask T, but they’re looking at their phone. I’ll ask them later.

…

“Blue, you good?”

…

8:40PM: holy fucking shit how is it already 8:40PM

8:45PMish: Feel more grounded, ask what I missed. B comes back downstairs. I tell B “good news, my brain is back”. He did not notice my brain was gone. T fills him in on what’s happened since they got home. They say that I missed a whole episode of the show, and that they gave me two ice cubes and I didn’t snap out of it at all.

8:45PMish: I don’t remember what they’re talking about. At all. Oh my gosh. Feel sick to my stomach, try to ask for a timeline of when this happened. They aren’t exactly sure. Definitely after they put the first ice cube on my head. They tell me I’ve been in and out all night…

8:50PMish: “Blue, you’re going back out again.” Knead my skin on my face to ground myself.

8:55PMish: oh fuck my laundry. Wait. My laundry. I have laundry? Check timer. My laundry needs another 30 minutes or so.

9:22PM: laundry timer goes off. Switch the loads.

9:30PMish: T goes upstairs for the night.

10:20PMish: retrieve laundry from dryer, go to bed.

Spent hours going in and out of dissociating and hey. Hey. Where did the time go. It was just afternoon and now it’s night. Hello.

[embracedthevoid]

I just want to say, I’m so happy that I found this TV show and got to meet all you lovely people. I’m stupidly emotional rn like I’ve once again regressed into my 16 yo 1D fangirl days. But I’m not even mad about it. I love you guyssss

Season two babes 💖

[lovesgonnabe]

Love Is Worth It - Episode I

 It Was Just A Normal Day

Characters: Chris Evans x Maya Alonso-Evans (Black OFC)

Warnings: Angst, Nothing extreme but could upset some, cursing, slight Implied smut

Word Count: 2k

Summary: What happens when those that don’t agree with you or your love are in positions of power?

Authors Note: This is out a lot earlier than expected so I hope you all enjoy. Also it has been a while since I’ve written so please bear with my rustiness, and there’s slight edits so there may be errors.

Disclaimer: There is slight police abuse of power that may be triggering to some.

Taglist: @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss if you would like to join the taglist message me. 

Please leave a note and tell me what you think!

October 24th, 2019 

The day started out just like any other...

Chris woke up at 5am to go on a run with Dodger.

I got up 30 minutes later headed to our home gym got on the Peloton for a workout then get started on breakfast.

Chris and Dodger get back around 6:30am

At 6:45am Chris carries me to the shower where we have “spontaneous” shower sex till Delilah knocks on our door.

7:30am I get Delilah ready for school then we eat breakfast as a family while Chris and I play footsie under the table and he quizzes her on current events. Did I mention she’s only 5 years old...

At 8:30am Chris and Delilah are out the door headed to school since it’s on the way to the set for Chris’s next project.

At this time I’m just sipping coffee reviewing my appointment schedule at the office and I head out the door at 9am.

It was just a normal day but something felt off.

When I pulled out of the gate of my driveway I see a Boston PD car just sitting on the corner next to our noisiest neighbor Mrs. Goldheim. She’s 70 and acts like she has no business to tend to but mine when what she really should be doing is getting some of her own dick, so she can hop off my dick and mind her damn business.

Anyway I’m getting off topic, as I drive down the road that same police cruiser begins to follow me lights off and at a safe distance for about a mile and then turns left down Sycamore, I was mad confused but I didn’t have time to think about the weird ass Boston cops right now.

I got to the office around 9:45am, had my first client at 10am and from that point It was nonstop between facials to acne treatments to talking women who don’t need plastic surgery off of that ledge I had my hands full for it only being the middle of October. But hey that’s the life I signed up for when becoming a dermatologist.

My last meeting about my new skincare venture ended at 5:30pm and I went to pick up Delilah from after school care. We stopped by the supermarket to get groceries so I could hopefully make my abuelas famous arroz con pollo for dinner tonight.

As a treat we stopped at Cold Stone got two pints of chocolate devotion for our after dinner mini celebration. Since not even a month ago Delilah was moved ahead to the first grade and got an A on her recent math test.

This is where the normal day began to take a nosedive.

Around 8pm we were headed to the house from Cold Stone, my little Dede and I were talking about her day, and Chris called to let us know that filming ended a tad early and he was already home.

We are just around the corner when I see another police cruiser this time they were following a lot closer but yet again they had on no lights.

My hands began to clam up as I kept looking in the mirrors at the two white men in the vehicle following me.

As I pulled into my gate they followed me in. Rushing I parked, grabbed my purse, and got out, unhooked Delilah from the seat and carried her to the door.

“Excuse me Miss” one of the officers spoke stopping me before I could enter my home. I felt like I was frozen In place with a  hand on the doorknob.

“Mommy what’s wrong” Delilah asked looking at me with fright her big brown eyes. I turned around putting my shy ray of sunshine down, with a reassuring  smile, I look at her and tell her that everything was alright as she hid behind my legs while the officers approached us.

It might be because I’m scared but it felt as if they both were towering over me, even though i was the one with the high ground standing on the steps. 

One man looked like he was on a mission while the other looked like he was just there for observation.

The younger one looked at Delilah and said “there is no reason to be afraid sweetheart we are the good guys” the tension was thick as Delilah looked up at me and no one said a word.

The older man of the two cleared his throat and looked at me dead in the eyes as if he was trying to intimidate me.

“Good Evening Miss, are you the nanny? I’m looking for your boss.” I raised an eyebrow ignoring the question and asked “can I please get her in the house?” both officers looked at each other weird since I didn’t answer his original question but both nodded.

I looked at my watch showing it to be 8:40pm usually I would kissing my man trying to figure out the best way to get him out of his clothes. But at the moment I’m standing on my steps scared for our life.

I unlocked the door and told her to go and get her dad who at the time was in the living room playing the grand piano. The beautiful sounds of the piano could be heard when I opened the door and as I closed the door you can hear Dodger bark and scurry toward the door.

The officer began to speak once more “now I’m going to ask you again Miss is your boss home?”

Placing my hand on my hip, I let out an exasperated sighed and said “if I had a boss and they were here I would be very confused”.

The younger officer eyes grew out of surprise and the older officer did not look too happy by my snarky remark.

“Miss please cooperate we don’t want any trouble, but since you can’t answer my questions hand over your license” the older officer said with a smug look and his gloved hand outstretched.

My stomach grew with a bubble of nerves even though it can’t be seen on my face i was scared.

“If I may ask officers what is this about this is my home have I done something wrong?” I huffed retrieving my license and handing it to the older officer, “we will see about that” he says and walks to the cruiser leaving the other officer in silence.

“Look we are just doing the job we were called out to do” the younger officer said to me I looked at him like he had two heads but before I could say another word Chris walked out the door closing it behind him.

He look so damn fine in grey sweats with a matching crew neck sweater, his gold chain I bought him for Father’s Day laying on top and his Red Sox cap pointed to the back.

He came up next to me wrapping his arm around my waist and kissing the top of my head, mumbling. “Baby are you alright?” he asks looking at me rubbing my back as I look at him.

I nod as a sense of calm settles over my body as he familiar sent and touch centers me and makes me feel safe.

“Is there a problem officer? He asked now removing his arm from my body to cross his arms and stand in front of me as if he was my bodyguard.

“Wow you’re Captain America” the officer said in shock as Chris and I rolled our eyes.

“Yea I know but I asked you is there a problem officer” Chris asked slowly getting closer to the younger now shitting his pants scared officer.

I love that he is trying to defend me but we don’t want to make matters worse so I grab his arm to pull him back a bit. Which didn’t work because all he did was softly move my hand a say “let me handle it love”.

I rolled my eyes and watched the shit show unravel. The officer stuttered and Chris cut him off.

“Look I know you are here to do your job but you are on my property and harassing my wife so I would like to know what the problem is what has she done?”

He didn’t look upset and Chris said it respectfully but it was just a feeling that Chris did not want to be fucked with at this moment.

There was another beat of awkward silence the officer was too scared to speak. Chris rubbed his beard and chuckled “can anyone answer my goddamn question as to my wife is in front of our home being harassed” it was like his voice dropped an octave and my panties got wet.

I’m literally trying to tell my brain to stop thinking about using my husband as my personal jungle gym, that this wasn’t the time for that, but I digress so to distract myself for a second I looked at my watch again stating it was only 9:20pm.

Damn I’m not sure if time was moving too slow or too fast but by the time I focused back on Chris and the officers they were being cussed the fuck out.

“What the fuck do you mean you have to take her because she fits the profile of a suspect, do you have a warrant, what the fuck did she even do officer!”

“Mr. Evans we understand that you are upset but we need you to calm down” the younger officer said to a red faced Chris.

“Don’t you tell me to fucking calm down when you are also trying telling me, you want to arrest my wife for some crime she didn’t commit because she’s black” Chris was now fuming.

“Sir this isn’t about race, there has been a string of burglaries in the neighborhood and she fits the description of the suspect we are looking for, we just want to take her in and ask a few questions” the older officer answered.

From where I was standing I could see everything especially how the officer had one hand on his gun holster and the other with cuffs ready to be put around my wrist.

All three men proceed to argue, I had to step in this was getting out of hand and in a minute I would not be the only one in handcuffs.

Walking over to the group who were now in the middle of my driveway with my hands out then they all went quiet.

“Chris honey it’s okay, this is ridiculous I know but let me go with them, you call Austin, tell him what’s happening and then come to the station I will be fine” I said looking at his blue eyes with slight tears as his breathing quickened.

I was hoping to be okay at least for Chris’s sake so he won’t kill the two men in front of me. He read me my rights with Chris now desperately pleading with them to release me.

As the older guard roughly grabs me pulling me towards the cruiser Delilah runs out of the house with Dodger behind her with tears in her eyes.

“Dede get back inside” Chris says as he grabs a barking Dodger who was headed straight for me “daddy why are they taking mommy, what’s wrong she said everything was ok” then she wails out “please don’t take my mommy” over and over while she kicked and screamed when Chris picked her up and ushered the 3 of them back into the house.

A tear slips down my face as my head is lowered into the car and the door to our home closes. One officer looked remorseful and the other looked so satisfied as he looked back at me through the rear view.

He threw on his sirens like he caught some mass murder that he’d been hunting for years.

Then he laughed a menacing laugh taunting me.

“You thought just because you are fucking some white man with money you would get off? Well I’m sorry to break it to you sweetheart but that not how the world works for people like you.” He said to me as I cried harder.

“That’s enough Whitmer I think she get it” the younger officer said.

The rest of the ride the only sound was the radio. I was booked and brought into a cell by myself cold and alone but thanking god that at least I was alive and not hurt.

All I could think about was the smile on my little Delilah’s face and how today was just supposed to be just another Normal day.

I guess those are slim when you’re Black in White America.

[rainywritingsx]

Scenario: poly!Tododeku x reader not letting their tough s/o train today

Request: asjksdjjs I thirst for cuddles. Poly Tododeku with a gn!reader who’s normally all tough and stubborn as h*ck, but exhaustion from pushing themselves too hard is catching up and their boyfriends are NOT going to let them train again today. Sleepy s/o is trying their best to protest, but... so warm and comfy... HC/Scenario?

I decided to go with a scenario, hope that’s okay!

For the record, everyone here is in college as of right now! Reader lives with tododeku so yea.,,, hope you enjoy! 

xxx Damla

word count: 957

The only way to describe how I’m feeling right now, is to say it’s like I’m sleeping on a bunch of clouds while being surrounded by a bunch of stuffed animals that hold me close. Except in real life I’m actually held by two lovely boys. Even better. 

Izuku’s hands are wrapped around my waist as his head is nuzzled into my neck. His hair slightly tickles me, but not to the point that I’m uncomfortable. His grip is strong and makes me feel safe -- though that’s not something I’ll admit out loud.

Shouto had kind of curled up to me throughout the night. His arm is now wrapped around my waist and his legs are on top of mine. Our faces are almost touching, and I can hear the soft sound of his breathing. So cute. I really feel at peace like this, as if nothing can happen to me as long as I’m with Izuku

Sadly, I have to leave this comfy environment. Today is one of the many days where I have to go training. Yes, even during the weekends. For the past few days, maybe weeks even, I’ve been training daily. Right now my muscles are sore, I can tell I’m sleep-deprived and I can’t remember the last time I had a lazy day. I don’t want to complain though. In order to become a great pro hero, I must be consistent, so I can’t slack off. 

As quietly as possible, I get up and get ready. With every step that I take, my legs scream at me to sit down, but I don’t want to. I can handle this, I’m fine. For now, I just need to bite my tongue and keep going. No biggie.

I grab my clothes and quickly get ready. My eyes dart over to the clock. It’s 5:30AM. Bakugou wanted to start training at 6:30. The ride to the gym is about half an hour since I have to walk after getting out of the bus, so I’ve got time left. That’s nice.

Knowing that it’s very likely I’ll have my lunch at the gym, I prepare a lunch box for myself and bring along something to drink as well. As I’m finishing it up and putting everything in my bag, I hear footsteps coming down the stairs. Izuku is standing in the doorway of the kitchen, hair messy and his eyes half closed. He yawns softly and looks at me. Upon seeing me almost ready to leave the house, he frowns.

“Sweetheart,” he mumbles “why are you up already?” he asks. I smile and walk over to him, wrapping my arms around him and kissing his cheek. Naturally, his arms do the same to me. For a moment, I just want him to lift me up and bring him back to bed, but I can’t do that. I have to go.

“I’m just going to train.” I say, trying to hide the exhaustion that I was feeling now that his arms are wrapped around me again. Seriously, I feel like I can melt at any moment right now. My legs are shaky and I know my grip on Izuku is way too loose.

“But it’s the weekend’’ he murmurs. I sigh and nod. “yeah, but I have to go, baby.” 

“No you don’t” I can hear the pout in his voice, which I can’t help but smile at.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” I lie. Izuku sighs softly. His hands find their way to my cheeks and he cups them.

“Babe, look at me and tell me you aren’t tired.” his voice is laced with concern. I sigh, knowing I can’t lie to him.

“Look, I’ll be fine.” I’m about to tell him I want to leave when I hear Shouto coming down the stairs. Izuku lets go of me and turns to him.

“Honey, please tell our sweetheart that they can’t go training again.” Shouto glances at me and I see a small frown.

“You’re tired.” He says simply and walks up to Izuku and I. 

“I told you I’ll be fine….” my voice trails off as Shouto picks me up bridal style and takes me upstairs. I’m so surprised that I can’t even protest or say anything at all. Before I know it, I’m back in bed with Shouto and Izuku both holding me.

“..I need to go.” but their grips only tighten as I say this. 

“You aren’t going anywhere.” Izuku mumbles.

“You’re so warm…” Shouto sighs softly and kisses my cheek softly. “Stay in bed today. You need rest. Bakugou can wait.” his hand softly strokes my cheek. I sigh.

“I have to go.” I protest while trying to get up, but the weight of these two guys on me is too heavy. Izuku giggles and Shouto looks at me with a small smile. They both know I’m not going anywhere today.

“I guess one day wouldn’t hurt…” I say as I try to lie down a bit more comfortably. Immediately the two tighten their grip on me and nuzzle into me, making me smile.

“Let’s just cuddle all day.” Izuku mumbles into my neck before kissing my cheek. 

“That sounds nice, but--” “We said you’re staying here, baby.” Izuku pouts. 

“..Izu, I need to pee.” 

“Hold it in.” Shouto deadpans. What an idiot.

“You expect me to hold it in all day?” 

“Be quick please.” I chuckle and nod before getting up to go to the restroom. 

Honestly, I’m glad that Shouto and Izuku made me stay home. It’s only now that I really realise how badly I wanted and needed this all along. And they knew. I’m so grateful. I couldn’t ask for lovelier angels to be with me.

[thecampbellfam]

Alright, the infamous birth story is ready to be shared. A heads up that there are aspects of this story that are TMI (too much information) so read at your own risk. Birth can be messy. ;) It’s a long read so buckle up.

For the week leading up to D’s birth I experienced mild contractions and cramping. Baby was very low in my pelvis and my midwife said at my 38 week appointment that she anticipated me birthing prior to my 39 week appointment (spoiler alert: she was right!). On Sunday, March 21st I woke up to mild contractions. The contractions continued every 3-10 minutes from 6:30-9:30am. These abruptly stopped when the boys came in the bedroom and needed my help and attention while Nic had a shower. During the 3 hours of contractions I made the decision to cancel a lash extension appointment that I had later that day. I texted my housemate and friend, M, to see if she was free to help me power through the open jar orders that I had in case the labour picked up again.

I had a long lull between contractions so decided to capitalize on that time. M and I finished jar orders. I packed all the orders up and scheduled a Canada Post pick up for the next day. I baked myself some lactation cookies. And Nic and I cleaned the bathroom, did the dishes, washed laundry, put last minute items in the hospital bag, organized a few areas of the house, and kept the kids occupied. I had the odd contraction here or there but nothing consistent or overly painful.

By 4pm I was tired and decided to lay down. I looked up something called the Mile’s Circuit and decided to try out the recommended rest positions while I had a nap. The positions in the Mile’s Circuit are known to help reposition baby if they’re sitting off in your pelvis. This seemed to work because by 4:30pm I was having regular contractions again. Contractions were irregular in length and time between, but were coming. This continued ALL evening. The contractions started to get a bit more painful as the evening went on but were never rhythmic enough or painful enough to transfer to the hospital. I was in touch with my doula and midwife who confirmed the same information.

By 11:30pm I was exhausted, discouraged, and the contractions were beginning to get a bit more painful (though still irregular in length and time between). At midnight my doula, K, headed over. She was my saving grace. She encouraged me to labour in a few different positions, took me for a curb walk in the rain, and helped prop me up with pillows when I got tired in a way that would keep my pelvis open while I laid down. I asked her when I should head to the hospital and she said that though the contractions were strong, they were not quite rhythmic enough and I was still too coherent between them.

But at around 1:30am everything changed. I had 3-4 huge contractions laying down and then got up to use the washroom. There I entirely lost my mucus plug (up till that point I had had zero bloody show or fluid loss). I called out for K to tell her about the mucus plug, then stood up and immediately vomited excessively. I told K that we needed to leave now! Nic had been resting and quickly got up to help me to the car. Thankfully I’d had him load up the majority of our hospital items a few hours earlier *just in case* things went quickly.

By 1:54am we were on the road to the hospital with K trailing closely behind. We turned onto the main road and I had a big contraction that I couldn’t speak through while my midwife was trying to call me. When the contraction ended she said she’d meet me at the entrance of the ER. We passed a bridge and I reclined my seat as I had another massive contraction. With this one I started yelling in pain. My body was experiencing fetal ejection reflex and was trying to push baby out while I was simultaneously trying to fight to keep baby in. The feeling of fighting your own body’s urges is one I’ll never ever forget. After that contraction was an odd lull and for a moment I thought we’d make it to the hospital. However, the next contraction hit just as we were passing the pedestrian overpass along the Bypass. I yelled “Uh oh! Uh ohhh! <words I can’t repeat> Nic you need to pull over NOW!” He quickly pulled over, gestured for K to come to the car, and reached to help me. I was fully clothed and frantically needed help pulling my pants down. We got them down just enough as K came to my side. K saw that baby was crowning and with one big push she was out. K was there just in time to catch her. So at 2:05am baby girl was brought up to my chest and Nic and K quickly grabbed whatever they could from the backseat of the car to keep baby warm. A towel and Nic’s infamous highlighter yellow hoodie were the winners. K helped rub baby down to ensure she was warm and checked that she was breathing. From there we impulsively decided to continue on driving. We were in a place that would have taken an ambulance some time to get to plus it was 2am so there was nobody on the roads. I had something called Marginal Cord Insertion which can cause hemorrhaging with the birth of the placenta so I was keen to get to the hospital as soon as possible. Baby on my chest, cord still pulsing and placenta intact, and onward to the hospital we continued. It ended up being the calmest ride and I kept remarking at how amazing it was to have her out while Nic kept commenting on how insane and badass this all was. The relief of having baby girl out was incredible. I’ve been asked a lot if I have trauma from the car birth and I honestly don’t. It was such a relief to have baby out and that she and I were healthy.

We pulled up the hospital shortly after and were greeted by our midwife and a team of nurses ready with a wheelchair, warm towels and blankets. They helped me out of the car and then wheeled us up to the delivery floor. I was greeted by a lot of surprised and impressed nurses. Baby and I got checked over, the cord was cut, and I birthed the placenta. I was stitched up and then we spent a couple hours in the birthing room for monitoring. Afterwards we were transferred to a maternity room and spent a quiet morning and early afternoon snuggling baby girl, having cat naps, watching the sun come up, and even sneaking in a shower. Our short hospital stay was so calm and relaxing so I’m glad we weren’t discharged as early as I was initially hoping. Given that it was baby #3 for us the nursing staff really only came in to go over what’s required and we were largely left alone. Baby and I were deemed healthy and we were discharged at 2:30pm.

We took our time heading home to give my sister time to be there first. She photographed our oldest meeting his brother for the first time and offered to do the same when we brought baby girl home. The photos from both of these photoshoots are cherished and I’m beyond grateful for my sister making the time to capture them.

A few fun facts:

* I selfishly didn’t want to share my birthday with baby girl. Shared birthdays can be tricky and I wanted her birthdate to be her own. She was born 5 days after my birthday allowing us both our own days. I had told Nic that I wanted to be done having kids by 30 so her arriving 5 days past my 30th was pretty bang on.

* Midway through my pregnancy my midwife recommended that I pack an “if I birth in the car” kit for the car, given how quick my active labours were with my last two births. This recommendation put a bug in my ear that my baby could be born in the car.

* A week and a bit before baby girl was born I sobbed listened to a Birth Hour episode about a car birth. I often tear up listening to birth stories but this particular story struck me differently.

* Our doula knew things weren’t going great on the hospital drive because Nic kept slowing down and speeding up (which correlated with my contractions).

* Many have asked about how Nic’s car fared in the birth. This is wild. When Nic got home from work on Saturday he let the boys come out and play in the car for a few minutes with him. Our younger son accidentally left the passenger door open a crack. Not enough to drain the battery but enough for the passenger seat to get absolutely soaked in the overnight downpour. Nic saw that the seat was wet when he loaded up the car with hospital bags and put one of our (new) thick towels on the seat so that my butt wouldn’t get wet. When I was transferred to a wheelchair at the ER entrance, Nic lifted the towel and the seat was COMPLETELY DRY AND CLEAN!

* Baby girl was born at the perfect time. Nic was on his weekend, our housemates were free to watch the boys, K was available to attend the birth and my sister was free to photograph the boys meeting their sister.

* Registering baby’s birth was fun. I had to call up Vital Statistics who had to look on a map to figure out the postal code for the area that I birthed in, since she wasn’t born at a fixed address.

[katblu42]

I have tossed up whether or not to post this, but I've decided to just go ahead and see how it lands. It is very personal to me, and I'm posting it because today is 2 years since I had to say goodbye.

This is basically a rambling vent that came out after the most traumatic period of my life so far. I needed to write it all down, chronicle it and get it out of my head, and the original destination for it was (my other) fandom.

It is more detailed than the story I posted earlier in the week, but it requires all the same warnings for some pretty unpleasant stuff. Please take heed before continuing.

Warnings for Death Illness Hospital Cancer (Medical) Drugs Medical Procedures CPR

Deep breath Late in 2018 my husband, S, began complaining of a sore throat. He's the kind of male who won't go to the doctor unless he is literally dying. He finally went to his GP in January and was told there was an issue that needed more investigating. He was supposed to go back to the GP in 2 weeks, but we were on holidays then, so he ended up not going back until mid March. GP sent him to a specialist, but the earliest appointment was early April. Consultation, camera down the throat and $400 later the specialist says Cancer - two of them, one in the mouth, one in the throat. Next appointment is the biopsy. By now S has lost almost 20kg because he struggles to eat (and because apparently Cancer can do that to a person anyway). Now there are appointments at the local hospital with the Radiation Therapy Dr, the specialist in Chemotherapy and a dental team (who wanted to take all his back teeth out at first, but changed their minds when they saw where the mouth cancer was, and how hard it was for S to open his mouth wide). During all this I'm still juggling work commitments as we are building up to one of our busiest periods, which covers pretty much the entire month of May. I'm sharing appointment chauffeuring duties with his Dad. It is decided that due to S's weight loss and difficulty eating it is advisable to put a feeding tube (that they call a peg) in his stomach. This is basically a precaution in case he can no longer swallow anything at some point during early treatment. Surgery after Chemotherapy begins will be difficult to recover from. As it turns out the peg is never actually used for feeding S. The first cycle of Chemotherapy begins on Wednesday 8th May. The plan was to do at least 2, probably 3 cycles of Chemo and then begin combination Radiotherapy/Chemo. At first things seem to be going okay. Three medications are administered as part of the Chemo - 2 are done on the Wednesday at the Cancer Clinic, and the third he has to carry around with him for 5 days, returning on Sunday to have the rig removed once that one is done. The peg starts leaking during these 5 days. He is given advice over the phone not to worry about the leak - but I wonder about that advice. I can't be with S all day - work is busy, and he's a grown up who can ask for help if he needs it. Only he's the kind of male who will not make a fuss if he's feeling "not okay". By Tuesday (14th May) S is not feeling much like "eating" - which consists of swallowing soft stuff like milkshakes, jelly (jello), custard and the like - and I basically have to force him to go for a walk around the block with me, just to keep him from lying on the couch all day. (Tuesday is my regular day off). He seems okay, in the "so-so" sense rather than the "fine" sense. He's not particularly nauseous, just a bit Blah. Wednesday - while I'm at work - S stays home all day, which is unusual for him. He is a social butterfly who can't resist going across the road to the Bowling Club just to sit with his mates for a bit. The peg is still leaking, and he feels tired and a bit yuck. By now I have asked him a few times if I should be calling the hospital for advice and he says no - doesn't want to make a fuss. I don't stress too much because he has an appointment at the hospital on Thursday - it's with a Social Worker, but I know that he will be at the hospital, where they will ask him how he's feeling, and if they think he needs something they will take care of him. Thursday comes and he doesn't want to get out of bed. I go to work, telling him to make sure he gets to his appointment, even if he doesn't feel like going. His Dad calls me at lunch time and tells me S didn't go to the appointment. He got in the car, they got down the road, then S told his Dad to just take him home. His Dad tells me S doesn't look good, he thinks S should be in hospital and I wonder why he didn't take S straight there if he was that worried. I get home just after 5pm and S is in bed feeling miserable. I don't get much of a good look at him - the room is dark - but he talks

to me. He's not feeling nauseous, not throwing up, but also not eating or moving much. Over the next few hours he's up and down to the toilet at least once an hour. I ask if he has diarrhoea, because if he does I should take him to hospital. He says no, "not much is coming out". It's after 10pm, Thursday 16th May, when he calls out to me from the bathroom. Something about the way he calls out makes me get straight up to see what's wrong - normally I yell back "what's wrong?" or "just a minute", but this time I think I had an instinct that said something was wrong. I find him sitting on the toilet, slumped forward with his head between his knees. He can talk to me at this point, but I have to help him sit up - he really can't move - and his skin is quite yellow (which alarms me). By the time I have him sitting upright he's not talking to me any more, his eyes are only half open and not blinking and he can't squeeze my hand. I run and get my phone and call an ambulance. Now his breathing is laboured, and as the emergency call taker is asking me to "say now every time he takes a breath" his gasps are getting further apart. I have to get him clumsily onto the floor of our tiny, narrow bathroom and give him chest compressions. 2 ambulances are on their way. Minutes later I have 4 ambulance crew members working on my husband in our tiny bathroom, and I have no idea what is going on. By midnight S is in emergency at the local hospital, and I'm in a private waiting room, alone. I call my Mum - I've already called his Dad on my way to the hospital in my car (they didn't take me in the ambulance). It's about 12:30 when a doctor comes to talk to me. Infection. Kidneys and liver struggling. Blood pressure through the floor. No white blood cells. This is by no means good. By the time I get to see him in Emergency I have my Mum and his Dad with me. S is basically in an induced coma and about to be moved up to ICU. It's about 1:30am. Once he's moved to ICU we wait in another waiting room for more news. A surgical consultant comes and sees us - I think it's nearly 3am - she says surgery is not an option. The infection is in his digestive system. There is no clear area to surgically remove, and his system is so weak it would not take well to surgery anyway. S's Dad leaves soon after that. This is hard for him. It was only 3 years ago that he was here in this very ward with his wife. This is where she passed away after an infection she just could not fight. He tells me "don't let them put him down" - I guess because he had to make that decision for his wife/S's Mum. I think it's after 6:30am when I decide to go to the intercom and buzz the nurses station to find out what's going on. They let us in to see him. All they can tell us is that they are throwing every kind of medical support they can at him in the hope they can help him fight off the infection - blood products, meds to raise the blood pressure, antibiotics. He's been ventilated through a tube in his mouth since the ambulance. They have to run a heating vent to raise his body temperature. They let me into the room, but I see no point in holding his hand or anything - he is unconscious, he won't know I'm there. We go home. I had about 3 hours sleep. By the time I could crawl into bed it was about 8am. By 11am people are starting to text me asking what's going on, checking if I'm okay. I had managed to text my boss about needing to call an ambulance while I was in the emergency waiting room. He's now replied to say I don't need to be at work today, but in the back of my mind is the fact that I have a show to work on, starting on Sunday - we are so busy that there will be no one else who can replace me on this show. (And we had a Federal Election on Saturday as well, so I was going to have to fit voting in around visiting S). At some point on this day a doctor calls me to get permission to administer a drug to S. This drug is not approved for use in Australia, but it is approved in the US. As a result they will have to ship it in from interstate, because there is not much

stock in the country, and I have to sign my permission for them to use it. It is a reversal drug for the 5 day chemo medication. It works best if administered soon after the chemo treatment - we are already past the ideal timeframe, but it is our best shot at helping S. S is unconscious and fighting for the next couple of days, and I'm half dreading that call that says things have taken a turn for the worse, come now! Instead, I see him for a short period each day, but he doesn't know I'm there. And I keep doing the work I have to do - at least this show is close to home for me, and close to the hospital. He is being supported by the blood pressure medication (Noradrenaline) which they are slowly able to reduce in dose, his temperature is stabilising, and the chemo reversal drug has had some positive effect. His white cell count is coming up - probably with the help of the blood products he's been given. By Tuesday 21st May S is awake and aware, and they have been able to remove the ventilator tube. The Physio is concerned about how weak he is - movement in his arms and legs is limited. He is breathing on his own, but it's hard work because his muscles are weak. His lips and mouth have been bleeding a bit around where the tube was. Still, we are seeing slow, small improvements and hoping for the best. On Friday they have to re-insert the breathing tube - he is too weak to maintain his breathing without assistance. This is a set-back, and comes with a warning that the breathing tube can't stay in his mouth/throat for too long, because it can cause all kinds of complications, especially in his compromised state. They tell me that without marked improvement soon they may have to perform a tracheotomy and insert the ventilator there. By this stage they have moved from nasogastric feeding to Parenteral nutrition (intravenously). The peg is still leaking. I'm now getting into a rhythm visiting S when I can for as long as I can around my work hours, and answering enquiries about his health and well wishes from family and friends on both my phone and his. I no longer have rehearsals every night, and the weekend's performances go pretty well. I know he's still critical, but he's stable and despite the set back S seems to be on a path of slight improvement again. The next set-back comes in the form of a flare up of the infection. The gut is still very inflamed - particularly the bowel. More blood products, more antibiotics, Noradrenaline dosage increased again. There is a mention that he probably has a slow internal bleed somewhere. Clotting is a problem - the bleeding in his lips and mouth is evidence of this too. Before I go to my Friday show I have to sign the permission for them to perform the tracheotomy - they've decided it needs to be done, and an emergency surgical team will do it but it could be a day or two before the operation actually goes ahead. Through this entire week S has been awake and aware, communicating with me as best he can around the breathing tube and the bleeding lips, which are scabby and sore. He is still very much alive mentally, still able to laugh at our corny jokes and request the music be turned up! Being in ICU he's not allowed flowers of gifts or anything, but they did allow me to take in a little blue tooth speaker so he could have the radio on all day. I see him as early as visiting hours allow on Saturday 1st June - his 42nd birthday. I have 2 shows on this day, and won't be able to see him again until Sunday. I leave the hospital soon after his Dad and brother arrive for a visit, around 11:30. Around 12:30, while I'm running sound checks for the matinee show, I get a phone call asking me for permission to do the tracheotomy. At first this confuses me - they have permission already. Apparently they are now doing it in ICU, not in the emergency theatre or wherever. He was more drowsy on the Sunday, after the tracheotomy, but still essentially in the same condition - stable. I cried off sick for work on Monday and spent a bit more time with him - I knew I had to be at work on

Tuesday for a morning staff meeting. The hospital social worker called me before I went to visit S, wanting to arrange a "family meeting" for this week some time. At first we settled on Friday morning, but later they asked me if we could arrange a time earlier in the week. After re-arranging my work schedule we agreed on 3pm Tuesday, even though S's Dad would not be able to be there anymore. Then I arrived for my Monday visit with S. We had the radio on - S likes to have music playing, even when he's falling asleep - and the announcers were talking about the State of Origin (a Rugby League series of 3 matches between rival state teams, New South Wales and Queensland). I told him I'd make sure we put the radio on the right station on Wednesday night so he could listen. Suddenly the most important thing in the world for him was finding a way to be able watch the game! I told him I'd find a way. Tuesday comes and I get through my staff meeting and a few other things on my now half day before running back to the hospital for this family meeting. It turns out this is just me, S, his ICU team, his oncology team and the social working re-capping what S has been through so far, and then scaring me (and more so S) by saying out loud the words "Palliative care". Essentially they are telling us we are out of further options. He is being given everything possible to assist recovery - the blood pressure meds are now at a low dose, but they still have to support his blood pressure, he is still on a ventilator to assist his breathing, the infection is still not improving, but it has not got worse, they have run out of different antibiotics to throw at the infection, it still seems the bleed is present, the scabs on his lips are still apt to bleed more than they should if they are disturbed. If his organs start to fail there will be nothing they can do - surgery will more than likely not be an option, and one failure will lead to another until his heart, then brain will go and that will be it. So, if we start to see organ failure palliative care becomes the only option. This is the point at which I am in disbelief. He can't be that bad. He is still totally alive mentally. How can we be discussing "making him comfortable until he dies"? And S is even more disbelieving and scared than me at those words. Yes S has looked better, yes he has spent over 2 and a half weeks in ICU, yes he has a lot more hard fighting to do if he's ever going to beat this, but his brain is fine, he is completely aware of where he is and what's going on around him - just a bit inclined to tire quickly. I stay with him longer than I intend to that night because he starts to complain of stomach pain. It gets worse. Really bad. They give him morphine. He says it doesn't help. His breaths start hitching, like something is stabbing him or something. He finally gives me the description "like hiccoughs, but sore". I can see how swollen his stomach is - fluid retention. And he is also complaining that he wants to lie on his side. We have to wait ages for the right number of people to be available to turn him on his side, to a more comfortable position. But his stomach is still giving him intense pain and whatever spasms are causing the breath hitches and grimaces. I have to leave him like that - in pain, but with the nurse on duty doing whatever he can to ease the discomfort, administering Morphine whenever possible - visiting hours are over and I'm asked to leave. On my way to work on Wednesday morning (5th June) I get a call from the head doctor in S's ICU team. He wants to know what time I can be there today - S has had major abdominal pain since last night (I know, I was there!), and they are investigating the cause, but it looks like the kidneys are failing. He tells me he will update me via text when he knows more, I tell him I will get there as soon as I can after work. I get no texts all day. I get to the hospital around 4:45pm - armed with the all important iPad mini for him to watch the State of Origin game on (yes, that is still a priority for S! God

love him!!). I'm told S has been taken for a scan and I need to come back in about an hour. So, when I return and he's back from the scan, I get the iPad hooked in to the Wifi and open the app he needs. Then I have to have the conference with the doctor. His kidneys have failed. Fluid is building up in his stomach. They want my permission to put a drain directly in his belly to ease the pressure. I give it. I have to wait outside while they get this done. There is a brief discussion about surgery - but that would literally be futile. Again we have the conversation about palliative care. This is the beginning of the end. His body is shutting down. S can't fathom this. He says the words that still break my heart, pointing to his head to indicate his mind he mouths "I'm still alive". He has so much to say, but we can't understand him through the scabs on his lips and his inability to make any real sounds. We try to get him to write things down, but his hands are really too weak. The doctor has asked if he wants to have the pain medication increased so he can slip away peacefully. The sentence he writes is "I just want to see how I go" - he wants so badly to keep fighting. He doesn't want to die. Once the doctor is sure he is comfortable for now he leaves us to watch the game - no S has not forgotten the game! He does not administer the pain medication, but he gives the authorisation for its use once S requests it. And although I had not planned to stay and watch the game (which starts around the time visiting hours end), I do. They let me stay. He nods off a bit during the second half, but I know how much seeing it means to him, so I rouse him for the good bits, and make sure he sees the end - a good result for him, a come-from-behind win for his team. I say my goodnight and leave S to get some sleep. I have told my boss how dire things are, and he has told me I have leave starting now for as long as I need. I get a call around 9:30 on Thursday morning asking me what time I will be getting to the hospital. Apparently S has been asking for me. I had a couple of things to do before I could get there, so I arrive just after 11:30am. S is not as awake and aware as he was last night. They have started giving him the pain medication (Fentanyl) the doctor was talking about, and it has affected S's ability to focus, and therefore communicate. He has apparently been asking what's going on - last night he knew the story, now he's unclear. I wish they had held off on administering the drug. I would have liked to speak to my clear headed husband today. His kidneys have failed, the liver is failing. We are out of options. His Dad and brother are in and out today - we are kind of rotating our breaks until early afternoon. A Palliative Care consultant, and the social worker and the nurse looking after S want to have a meeting with me, and it takes me longer than it should to realise that this meeting is for me to give the final word on the beginning of the end. They are focusing on making sure I am okay with what's about to happen. Making sure I know that I have the final say, and once I give the go ahead they will stop all meds that aren't making him comfortable - the Fentanyl dose will increase, but the feeding, the antibiotics and finally the Noradrenaline will be stopped. It will then be a matter of minutes or hours before he is gone. I know they are trying to be helpful, but having them ask if I'm okay, having them tell me how strong I have been for him and how much of an advocate for him I have been is only making my heart break more. That afternoon, his brother, sister-in-law and their 4 kids, my brother and sister-in-law and 2 of their kids all come in to say their farewells. The Fentanyl dose has already been increased, so S knows they are there, but he is so drowsy it's hard for him to open his eyes. His sister-in-law wants to stay with me. She doesn't seem to understand I need to be alone with S for this. But, at last she gives me space. I'm the one who has to give the green light. It's really hard to do, but I know we

are out of options. As soon as they stop the blood pressure medication (Noradrenaline), S opens his eyes and looks at me. He is as focused as I have seen him all day, his grip on my hand is desperately strong, and I explain to him one final time what is happening, tell him I love him, tell him I'm sorry things turned out this way, sorry for all the things we had planned that we won't get to do together, and tell him it's time to stop fighting and just let go. I try to tell him not to worry about anything or anyone, that it's okay to go. I hope he understands. It must be about 40 minutes before he is unconscious. They stop the ventilator. I turn off the radio - he can't hear it anymore, and he and I have different taste in music! I know he can't feel it anymore, but I won't let go of his hand until he's gone. He holds on for over an hour without the ventilator. Then there are no more breaths. I know he's gone. His hand is already much cooler than it was an hour or so ago. I am a widow. It has happened so fast. It feels strange, but I don't think the full weight has hit me yet. I am bursting into tears at random moments. I am thinking of stupid things like "what am I going to do with all these Fruit Loops - he eats those, not me!", instead of dwelling on the hard things like having a funeral to arrange, and dealing with all the people who keep wanting to do things for me, or stay with me.

That was two years ago now. In excess of 300 people came to his funeral service - a testament to how many friends he made, how many lives he brightened just that little bit with his generous spirit and ever-present smile. Of course, I still miss him. I still have my teary moments. I still struggle with guilt. But I remember his smile, his laugh, the way he would sing along to the music and make up his own words (often to make the song about us), his spontaneous dancing and all the love!

[somecunttookmyurl]

I'm very curious about the research you mentioned concerning CYP2D6 metabolism. Could you post or DM the name of the study? Is your plan to inhibit CYP2D6 by taking CBD or an anti-histamine to increase the effectiveness of the anphetamine based ADHD meds you're taking? Seems like an interesting (and well researched) plan - I hope it works for you if that's what you're doing!

YOU ACTIVATED MY TRAP CARD. I’m gonna put this under a readmore so as to not bore the other 3,066 of you with weirdly specific pharmacology and pharmacogenetics talk Disclaimer: I am not a doctor, or a pharmacist, or any sort of medical professional at all. I have absolutely zero qualifications in pharmacology I’m just a nerd with half a psychology degree, a talent for study design, and shitty fucking doctors.

So I first learned about CYP26D metabolism (and the broader P450 cytochrome) in like 2017 from a friend doing a PhD in things much smarter than me. I’ve always been a Feral Drug Goblin (resistant if not immune to a lot of drugs) and she seemed to think that’s what was happening. Which tracks because like. 90% of the stuff that doesn’t work on me is a CYP2D6 substrate (the rest are CYP3A4 so I might have more than one defect, but if there’s something funky going on on 3A4 the effect is less pronounced)

Later discovered I have hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (hEDS) and like... many if not most EDS sufferers have *at least* one P450 defect . Around 80% or so of people with chronic pain more generally have at least one P450 defect. It’s not something I’ve been tested for because a) even though CYP2D6 metabolism and its effect on drug treatment has been studied for like 30 years, the NHS only started introducing genomic testing for it in 2019 and b) getting a referral would require finding a doctor who knows what it is which, like, lmao. Honestly though we can be about 99% certain I’m an ultrarapid metaboliser, all things considered. Mostly I want a genomic test to see if any of the others are broken.

Now, I don’t know why it took me four years to think of it but over the weekend at 2:30am (I’m not allowed to have a thought during daylight hours actually) that like... logically speaking... if you gave a potent CYP2D6 inhibitor to an ultrarapid metaboliser it would normalise (or at least improve, depending on how many functional copies of the gene I’m dealing with like people have been found with thirteen copies) the metabolic function. Absolute galaxy brain moment.

Of course combining a CYP2D6 substrate and a CYP2D6 inhibitor generally carries a “moderately severe” interaction warning because if you’re alrealy, like, normal that could be dangerous. So I had a dig around to see if anybody had studied that specific thing and whether it was actually safe.

It took me... a pretty long time because this concept is massively understudied. I mean there’s 1001 studies on “does being an ultrarapid metaboliser of CYP2D6 affect [x substrate drug]” to the extent it’s like... yeah dude. The answer is yes. It’s always yes. I think we’ve proved this concept. Don’t think you need to do it for every single drug. We get it. There are a couple though. Both of the studies were only 5 participants, and were done 20 years ago (2000 and 2001) but in both cases all participants showed... honestly pretty amazingly positive responses and no ill effects. Which is why I’m so baffled that seemingly nobody has studied it since. Like “well, this went fantastically well! We shall never speak of it again” The first study gave the participants debrisoquine hydroxylation, which is the substance they use to test the function of CYP2D6 when they do the genomic test. So they weren’t on a CYP2D6 substrate already they were given it specifically for the study. Then they were given quinidine (an anti-arrhythmic which has sadly been disconintues) as an inhibitor. Without quinidine, the metabolic ratio of debrisoquine in the participants after 6 hours was 0.01 - 0.07. Which is, like, fuck all. With quinidine that amount was 12.6, 10.1, 9.2, 2.4, and 2.2. Participants had 3, 3, 4, 13, and 13 copies of the gene respectively so the more copies you have the less improvement you see, but < 0.1 to 2.2 is still huge https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2014903/ The second study in 2001, also 5 participants, administered nortriptyline as the substrate and then used paroxetine (an SSRI) as the inhibitor. After taking nortriptyline for a week, all participants had very low subtherapeutic levels of the drug in their systems. Following 2 weeks of treatment with paroxetine, 4/5 participants had normally-expected therapeutic levels of noritryptiline. The other participant withdrew after 1 week of paroxetine treatment after getting side effects from it but still had an increase in noritryptiline levels in that time so it was working he just didn’t tolerate paroxetine very well. https://sci-hub.se/https://ascpt.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1016/S0009-9236(01)78384-1

Those are, to my knowledge, the only studies done specifically to test whether you can normalise liver function using an inhibitor. There is a case study from 2006 of a 6 year old boy with ADHD who didn’t respond to drugs and was confirmed to be an ultrarapid metaboliser. The authors recommend usage of an inhibitor in such cases

https://sci-hub.se/https://journals.lww.com/psychopharmacology/Citation/2006/08000/An_ADHD_6_year_old_Child_Ultrarapid_Metabolizer.25.aspx

I can’t have paroxetine or fluoxetine because I have a bipolar-spectrum disorder and historically me and SSRIs are not friends. However buproprion (wellbutrin) is an inhibitor which I was prescribed before to counteract a side effect from atomoxetine and like I was definitely more functional at the time? But that was way before I had this genius plan, or knew it was an inhibitor, so. There’s been a supply issue here for it since July. So yeah. I’m going to be taking CBD. Amphetamines do absolutely fuck all by themselves so like literally my plan is “taking weed pills to try and make my liver talk to meth properly” which sounds absolutely ridiculous. Gonna be hilarious if it fuckin’ works. I’m going to be doing a proper study and writing it all up and everything. Emailed the researchers involved in the 3 studies to see if they’re interested in my data like 20 years later lmao but if you wanna read the study outline it’s here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1TOnToHMH7UhYMFM9qtv-4ZWmaV7Pr6IQeYv6QDAGVrQ/edit?usp=sharing Just gonna keep going unti it either works, or the amount of CBD required becomes too expensive (which would be like 9 weeks max bc I can’t afford to be taking more than 60mg CBD every day forever).

[jvpit3rs]

thanks for the tags! @youngbeezersmixtape @dunnwithlyfe ❣️

rules; answer 30 questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better.

1. name/nickname: sydney (some ppl call me syd)

2. gender: female (she/her)

3. star sign: libra

4. height: 5’6” (I think... it’s been a long time since I’ve measured my height)

5. time: 4:06pm

6. birthday: september 29th

7. favorite bands/groups: pink floyd, led zeppelin, fleetwood mac, nirvana, arctic monkeys, joy division, beach house, brockhampton, the neighbourhood, the 1975, gorillaz

8. favorite solo artists: harry styles, grimes, mac demarco, frank ocean, blood orange, lizzo, lana del rey, lorde

9. song stuck in your head: polish cow... MOVING ON

10. last movie: uncut gems

11. last show: it’s always sunny in philadelphia

12. when did I create this blog: I��ve had tumblr since 2014 and change my blog when I go through phases lol

13. what do I post: hockey stuff and hopefully more art in the future!

14. last thing I googled: uranus lmao! it has to do with an upcoming post!

15. other blogs: nope

16. do I get asks: not really but i would love to talk/chat with you all!

17. why I chose my url: funny enough I just changed it BUT it’s because I love a certain man named nolan patrick

18. following: 85

19. followers: 205 (thank you❤️❤️! especially to everyone who has put up with me changing fandoms since 2014 lmaooo)

20. average hours of sleep: it’s never a steady number lol! I could sleep until 1 in the afternoon or wake up randomly at 5:30am

21. lucky number: 13

22. instrument: I played the clarinet in 5th grade…

23. what am I wearing: dark green sweats and black tank top with my blue Comfy on over it (I could live in this Comfy!!)

24. dream job: forensic scientist, crime lab technician, or anything to do with natural science really

25. dream trip: europe!! particularly ireland, england, and france

26. favorite food: ratatouille or margherita pizza

27. nationality: american

28. favorite song: I can’t decide on one single song but champagne coast by blood orange and wish you were here and comfortably numb by pink floyd is up there!!

29. last book you read: a book about libra’s because it’s my sign hehe

30. top three fictional worlds: star wars galaxies, harry potter, and the marvel universe

tagging: @kirbysdch @itsflowerpowerbaby @krugstrash @ballsakic @viviartsy @folkloreflyers

[kitsune-kaos]

30 Question Ask Game

I was tagged by @engiqueers 😄💕

Name - Michael

Gender - Cis-presenting genderqueer

Star sign - Libra Sun♎️☀️, Gemini Moon♊️🌙, Aquarius Rising ♒️☝️

Height - 6’ish

Time - started this at 11:59am, finished at 8:30am 😂

Birthday - October 19th

Favorite bands - Slow Club and Fleetwood Mac are the only bands I’d call my faves, more often I tend to listen to Indiv songs by a variety of artists so it’s art to choose

Favorite solo artists - Adele and Doja Cat are the only ones coming to mind atm lol

Song stuck in my head - Phenomenon from RPDR season 13 ep 3

Last Movie - I been watching lots of people reacting to movies on YouTube so if you count that then Hunger Games. If not counting that, then it might’ve been the first half of the Scooby Doo movie (2001)

Last show - Rupaul’s Drag Race

When did I create this blog? - I wanna say 2015, maybe 2014 (damn)

What do I post? - cute things, nerdy/geeky things, occasional things I find aesthetically pleasing, cute guys, funny posts, and positive stuff

Last thing I googled - “Zelda release timeline” to check if A Link to the Past came out as early as I thought

Other blogs - omg yeah 😅 there’s like 9 others I post on fairly regularly, but I use them in a similar way to a playlist, so I have a blog for just adorableness (@omgthisisjusttoocute), my aesthetic blog (@moonriseblossoms), my nerdy fandom blog (@gaymergrotto), my porn blog, etc. And then there 4 I rarely post on, and 5 I never post on anymore (and should really just delete at this point lol)

Do I get asks? - I’ve been getting a lot more than usual recently but I used to get none haha

Why I chose this URL? - it has to do with a story I started working on in highschool where the main character, Kitsune (a fox guy would you believe) was gonna have chaos magic. And for the sake of alliteration I switched the Ch to a K and went with Kitsune Kaos

Following - 1590

Followers - 2044

Average hours of sleep - 8ish? I’d say I typically fall asleep between 10 and 11 and wake up between 5:30 and 8

Lucky number - 3, 9, 13, and 19

Instruments - Piano for like 15 years, organ for about a year when I was still Mormon, and a year of violin lessons years ago and I haven’t touched it since 😅

What am I wearing? My blue small floral print shirt, my blue pajama pants, my blue long socks, blue-gray slippers, my gray beanie, and my maroon hoodie

Dream job - I wanna be able to help people. I’m also interested in education, though not necessarily teaching. More so I’m interested in addressing the Fuckery of the education system as well as the general perceptions of education the edu system creates that is fucky

Dream trip - I think Japan would be super cool, but honestly I’d just love to go somewhere that has great food and isn’t an overcrowded destination hotspot

Favorite food - imma list a few 😜 Falafel, Shepard’s pie, sushi, and fried fish tacos 💕

Nationality - American

Favorite song - Our Most Brilliant Friends - Slow Club (link at bottom)

Last book I read - Avatar the Last Airbender: the Rise of Kyoshi

Top 3 fictional universes to live in - Avatar, Pokémon, and maybe My Hero Academia

Imma go ahead an tag @wayweaverr @bareback-to-the-future @anime-penis @wesley-2 @lil-chernobyl-mutant @lexibility @onlyhams @von-felden and if anyone else wants to do it you can say I sent ya 😊