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secreteddsworldblog · 3 years

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Can I Buy You A Drink?

Eduardo x M!reader

You really don't know how you thought going to a bar to drink Diet Cola all alone was a good idea. Though you're not really in the right set of mind to make reasonable choices.

You've recently had a mutual break up from a long term relationship. Years, not petty months, walked out the door. Regardless if you were the one who brought up the conversation when confronting your Ex about the change of mannerism towards you it still hurt. You still felt like the Dumpy.

Even a month now since the night it ended you still felt an overwhelming sense of loss. You're no stranger to the feeling though. You've actually had worse relationships you rather not think about unless you want to go into a fit of sobs between Cola sips.

"Another diet cola please," you had already gone through a few cans but didn't want to stop. It's your favorite drink. Why not indulge in things to make yourself better? You're actually really picky with what you drink. Nothing makes it past your lips unless its water, milk, and Cola.

"You've had enough, sir!" The bartender was in the middle of drying a wet drinking glass with a yellowed white rag.

How dare he deny you, you're a paying customer, and in pain, "I know when to stop!"

From just the right distance away to hear the exchange sat Eduardo who was had been deep in thought about his own moarning. He always considered himself a tough man, the definition of machismo, someone who can't be knocked down.

Many would say he has no right to feel the way he does after how he behaved before the life changing event he had to go through. But sometimes it takes a rude awakening to trigger a well needed over due self reflection and change in character.

Eduardo's head perked up the moment he heard a man ask for another diet cola. Who orders diet cola at a bar? Besides him that is. If someone can enjoy a diet cola enough to drink it everywhere then obviously it's someone with good taste like him.

Temporarily getting out of his own head he got up and reached the counter, " Bartender, I DEMAND you bring a pair of diet colas for my friend and I!"

"FINE, Mr Eduardo," the bartender slammed the glass he was working on down and went to get the cold refreshments firmly holding them out, "But this is all either of you is getting tonight."

"Whatever," Eduardo passed one of the cans over to you, "Cheers!"

You'd be lying if you said you didn't feel a little bit of second AND first hand embaressment. It's not everyday a cute rando just comes up and makes somewhat of a scene for you. You have a feeling he's the kind of guy who calls out underpaid fast food joint employees when they put pickles in his friends bugers when they asked for none.

With the sound of a 'Tink' from cans tapping you lightened up a little. It would do you some good to know new people. Not in a thottie way. You've had to move homes for a fresh start, staying in that house with the memories were only going to make things harder for you to recover from, so you're actually in unknown territory.

"So what's a guy like you doing drinking cola all alone?" Eduardo glaced at you from the corner of his eyes still letting the diet cola can hover next to his lips after the first sip. You didn't know what he meant by 'a guy like you'. Though you weren't the most traditionally masculine looking bloke at the bar compared to him. You wouldn't go as far as calling yourself an E-boy but you're definetly decked out in more of a casual alternative attire. Some would call you a pretty boy, like your Ex before he stopped-

"Probably for the same reason you are?" It was strange to see someone else drinking the same thing alone- Unless this is normal for a guy like him. He didn't look like a traditional loner but weirdos come in all sorts of flavors. You knew that fairly well.

Other broken souls in the bar are getting properly drunk and a man out with the boys would only drink non-alcoholic beverages if he's the designated driver.

"I see... You come here often?" He lowered his drink to have his other arm reach over to scratch the back of his head. Eyes avoiding yours.

"No. I'm fairly new 'round these parts," You paused for a second deciding to say something risky, "Do you want me to come here often?" A little flirting never hurt anyone. It might be too soon to get back on the sattle but you weren't looking for anything serious any time soon nor were you planning to go far while you're still healing. You just miss being who you used to be before devoting yourself to you Ex. Your confidence wasn't always real but you'd love to go back to being the cocky flirts you used to be. Seeing just how many people call fall for you knowing you can have absolutely anyone.

Eduardo seemed to almost spit his drink seeing his subtle attempt at hitting on you be returned. "A-Are you serious?" His eyes widened a little looking at you. He must have been on the market and unsuccesful for quite some time hm? He hadn't been seen in a serious relationship since the one with his own Ex, Laurel.

"Why wouldn't I be?" You flex your classic side smirl and eyebrow raise. You might be a little rusty and you could use some practice in the mirror before trying that on anyone else.

Eduardo seem to have trouble thinking of what to say next only to be saved by his phone ringing, "S'cuse me, I have to take this-". On his phone Mark's icon and name popped up.

Mark had it together and seemed to have taken the loss a lot better than Eduardo. He was the more mature one of the trio and because of that he took it upon himself to look after eduardo remaining roommates with him.

As Eduardo went to a less crowded corner of the bar you checked your own phone.

You had roommates of your own. Some pals who ARE locals of this town. One of them even owns a music shop a few blocks form the bar. You couldn't trust yourself to exist alone after the break up so they were nice enough to let you move in as long as you helped around the store and did you part of house chores.

You scoffed at the text from Kasey the other roommate who has an online business and likes to call himself an 'influencer.'

[Kasey]: Are you still being a lil bitch baby? Where are you? Bill and I are going to lock you out of the house if you stay out late again.

With a roll of your eyes you respond back saying you'll be home in a bit. Even though they were nice enough to take you in the dynamic between the three could be considered playfully rude but tipping too close over the line into toxic. Kasey could say 'Fuck you' and you could say 'Eat my ass' then go out for a movie.

"Sorry about that. My roommate was checking up on me". Eduardo sat back down looking at your face wondering why you looked peeved.

Rent must be terrible in this town. It seemed everyone had a roommate. "That's fine. So were mine. I have to split actually-" You got up slyly putting your coat jacket on waiting to see if the man really was interested in you enough to say anything about seeing you again.

"O-Oh wait. How often are you thinking of coming by this spot?" Eduardo didn't have many people to see when he left home. Aside from a stiff friendship with Tom. Since the incident they've bonded over their hatred for Tord. They took turns doing each other's interests like watching a sporting event when it's Eduardo's turn to pick the activity or going to a concert when it was Tom's night. It would usually end in some fight over bashing each others choices but they always silently made up and made plans for another night.

"Mmmm. I don't know really," it was the truth. Even if you were to say what days you'd potentially show up it wasn't for sure. You'd play hard to get but this could become a good friendship. Someone who isn't calling you slurs, reclaimable between you and your roommates among themselves of course, and someone who might actually like you. "Here, let me save my number in you phone-" You reach out placing you hand on his forarm that held the phone testing to see if he'd flinch or push you away from the gentle touch.

Eduardo felt goosebumps from around you touch. You could have sworn you saw a hint of green blush on his face. No one really touches him besides Mark when he pats Eduardo on the back when he things he needs it. "S-sure".

You glided your hand from where it was to his hands sliding the phone out from his grasp. Your brain did a buffer effect when seeing the person that was his lock screen. A guy with small eyes, light brown hair, and blue button up. Who was this? This better not be some unnamed boyfriend. You didn't take him for a cheater. You still saved your number on his phone but took a mental note not to flirt as much until you know for sure the guy was single. Even if it's just casual the last thing you want to be is a homewrecker.

You handed the phone over back to him, "See ya." Okay, you can spare a wink before walking away from him.

Eduardo sat there confused. That really happened. He really got someone's phone number. He took one last sip from his diet cola before setting down the money to pay for their drinks.

Authors note:

What's up fellow LGBTs. I didn't see any xM!Reader content much less for Eddsworld charas so I took it upon myself to actually provide for any of the other losers who simp for Eduardo. Might do a love triangle down the line tho-

#eddswolrd #eduardo eddsworld #x reader #m!reader

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novantinuum · 4 years

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Intake (SUF one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: Teen Audiences (TW: brief discussion of mental illness related topics like suicide ideation and intrusive thoughts.)

Words: 2800

Summary: Steven fills out an important form.

This is set multiple months pre The Future, and is a small glimpse into Steven’s journey to find a therapist.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. AO3 link will be provided in the reblogs. Thank you! <3

____

His leg bounces with a restless fervor as he slumps in the waiting room chair, clutching the clipboard and pencil the receptionist gave him with a white knuckled grip. Gaze hardened, he takes a good long look at the other patients spread across the room, a few of them appearing equally as spent and fidgety as him, and hunches over the intake form so his answers will be conclusively obscured from their view.

He grimaces. Ugh. Why would a place like this lay out their chairs so close, anyways? Why even give people the option of being nosey? He may be stuck seeing this therapist Connie’s mom recommended because he’s all messed up in the head, but it’s not like he wants the whole planet to know about it. Goodness knows all of Beach City and Little Homeworld already does thanks to his little ‘incident’ a month back. That’s bad enough.

His chest almost feeling hollow as he sighs, he scrawls in his name, his birthday, his cell number, address, and an emergency contact (Dad, who left for the car to give him privacy after signing a few forms he can’t fill out as a minor) on the lines indicated. He leaves out his many middle names for once, all of them leaving a bitter taste in his mouth at this present moment. Briefly, he wonders if this will be a problem, as these past few weeks Dr. Maheswaran assisted his dad in finally acquiring legal documentation and health insurance for him, and per those records he’s officially ‘Steven Quartz Universe’ in the eyes of the law.

Eventually he shrugs, figuring the likelihood of there being another sixteen-year-old ‘Steven Universe’ here today to confuse him with is nearing zero.

Okay, what’s next?

He briefly skims over the next few passages— a bunch of legalese about the terms of counselor-patient confidentiality and when they might have to breach that for safety reasons— and signs where indicated so they know he looked over it.

Someone sitting two chairs away coughs. He can’t help but flinch at the sudden noise, and folds himself tighter in his own seat as he flips over the first page of the form and continues to read.

In a few words, explain why you’ve chosen to reach out to us today. How can we help you?

Steven frowns, fingers twitching around the shaft of the pencil as he contemplates how to respond. For whatever reason, the question “explain why you’re here” feels very blunt and antagonistic to him in a way he can’t quite ascertain. Like... in a “give the wrong answer, get booted right out the door” sorta way. He lifts his head, peering at all the humans spread across the room, each and every one with their own story, the central character of their own worlds. Some are texting on their phones as they wait for the receptionist to call their names, others are filling out forms as well. What brought these people here, he wonders? Surely there’s plenty of people having a worse time than him right now. Surely there’s people with real problems, people who are literally struggling just to stay alive from day-to-day. He’s not like that, right? Besides that one little wobble a month back, he’s been handling his problems on his own fairly okay. Hasn’t he? So what makes him selfish enough to think that he’s worth anyone’s time?

In his pocket his phone vibrates, knocking him back into reality. He yanks it out and switches it on to look at the new text splashed across the lock screen:

Dad: Hey Schtu-ball, just wanna let you know that I’m proud of you and love you very much. You’ve got this!

He stares at these words for a good minute, the kind sentiment— despite reading as a little hopelessly over-encouraging— filling the hollow space in his chest partway. Even if his dad’s been a bit overbearing in his affections this past month, it’s clear he means well.

So. Why am I here today, he thinks, reading the question over again. He folds his fingers up into a stiff fist, pulling his thumb across his knuckles. After licking his chapped lips and shoving his phone back in his pocket, he scribbles a hasty reply.

I feel really angry and empty and tense and just want to be better.

The teen pauses, allowing those words to echo over and over in his mind, to truly sink in. It’s such a succinct and to-the-point admission that he suddenly wonders why he ever doubted he was less deserving of aid than anyone else in this waiting room.

His countenance a little lighter now and his shoulders growing less stiff, he moves on to the next section.

To aid our counselors in providing you the best possible care, please rate the following statements on a scale from zero to four, zero meaning “not at all like me,” and four meaning “extremely like me.”

Steven’s eyes dart across the length of the massive table below these instructions, his previous anxiety rushing back into his brittle bones as if it’d never left. Each row is host to a short sentence and five blank boxes, numbered zero to four. Read it and rate yourself, right? Should be simple enough. But as his glance flits over these statements and he understands the sort of personal, probing questions they’re asking through them, he begins to mistrust his previous burst of optimism. Dread floods his system, making his cheeks flush bright pink. Heart pounding at the mere thought of people staring, he drops his head lower, successfully hiding most of his face behind the clipboard until he can coax that betraying glow into fading away.

In the end, this goes to prove that it doesn’t matter if everyone says therapy will be ‘helpful’ for him; reflecting on all this junk is still gonna suck.

Quietly, he takes a steadying breath and forces himself to read on, to crack open the hornet’s nest that is the depths of his crap brain.

1. I am shy around others.

He considers this for a moment. Shy. Historically, this has never been a word people would use to describe him. For years he reveled in the thrill of meeting new people, new Gems. His childhood eagerness to engage in fellowship with those around is half the reason Era 3 even exists. And he’s fine around people he knows. Like, on a rare good day he has no problem playing board games or watching cheesy soap operas with his friends. But to be fair... as of late, his eagerness to meet anyone new feels like it’s all but vanished. Is that being shy? Or is that just him failing to care for anyone beyond his inner circle?

With a small shrug he checks the box for one, and moves on.

2. I don’t enjoy being around people as much as I used to.

Hmm. Probably a three. People are unintentionally exhausting these days. He used to be energized by social interaction, and now it just leaves him sucked dry. Most days he’d rather stick to his room.

3. I feel isolated and alone.

The weight of the diamond embedded in his belly— something he normally barely notices— grows ever more apparent as he marks off a four.

4. My heart often races for no good reason.

Uh, yeah. What happened just a minute ago is a pretty good tell. Four.

5. I have spells of terror or panic.

Another four.

6. I am anxious that I might have a panic attack while in public.

Four once more. He holds his pencil tighter, squirming in his seat as he tries (and fails) not to think about the pale scars spread across his back, hidden in his hairline, and on the underside of his arms, indentations that once marked the base of the crystalline spines that jut out from between his scales.

7. I think about food more than I’d like to.

Steven pauses at this one. For once, he’s not sure he can say this statement applies to him. Truth be told, he only started caring about what he put in his mouth earlier this year, when he cut meat and fish out of his diet. And that’s not... a bad thing? It’s not bad to want to consider the impact your food choices have on the environment? He definitely didn’t choose to do so for self-denying reasons, and that’s probably what they’re asking about. He checks zero, and moves on.

8. I feel out of control when I eat.

He almost checks another zero, but then he remembers that day after the proposal... and the week after his incident. And he decides that even if he doesn’t consciously obsess over the food he eats, there’s still a few occasions where once he starts snacking he finds it difficult to stop. A one it is, then.

9. I have sleep difficulties.

This statement nearly makes him laugh. Does he have sleep difficulties. Hah. He doesn’t think he’s gotten a truly restful night of sleep since he sacrificed himself to Homeworld at fourteen.

A solid four. No question.

10. My thoughts are racing.

Four.

11. I feel uncomfortable around people I don’t know.

Hmm. Two.

12. I drink alcohol frequently.

The only alcohol he’s ever had is a tiny sip of his dad’s with permission at Garnet’s wedding reception, and it tasted terrible. He has no interest in drinking again. Zero.

13. When I drink alcohol I can’t remember what happened.

Zero.

14. I drink more than I should.

Zero again.

15. I have done something I have regretted because of drinking.

Another zero. It almost makes him feel better, just knowing there’s a decent number of lines on this paper that aren’t a carbon copy of his lived experience.

16. I feel sad all the time.

Aaaand back to “the story of his life.” Briefly, he wonders if ‘feeling sad’ is the same thing as feeling nothing at all. But then again, does the difference really matter? He checks the box for three.

17. I am concerned that other people don’t like me.

Three. Although honestly, he’s even more concerned that people continue to like him after everything he’s done.

18. I feel worthless.

Steven nibbles at the inside of his cheek as he reads this statement, memories automatically flashing through the pathetic events of the last few weeks, through all the days he barely crawled out from under his covers, all the days he didn’t even manage to brush his teeth or run his fingers through his greasy, knotted hair, all those awful days he couldn’t so much as play one of his video games without growing tired of it in minutes and taking a restless nap for the rest of the afternoon instead.

Four.

19. I feel helpless.

Two. Everyday affairs are a drag, but at the very least he knows he can fight his way out of danger in a pinch. He wouldn’t call that helpless.

20. I have thoughts of ending my life.

He freezes. Goes back, reads this line again. Reads it a third time to make sure he’s not horrendously misconstruing the prompt he’s been given.

(Tries not to think too deeply about the graphic images that flood his imagination some nights. It’s just stray thoughts, though. He’s fine.)

One, he marks, although his muscles can’t help but twitch as he shifts his wrist, as if deep down he knows he’s underplaying his answer.

21. I feel tense.

Steven gives a small snort under his breath. Yeah, he outright admitted as much earlier in this form. Four.

22. I get angry easily.

His grip tightens.

Four.

23. I have difficulty controlling my temper.

He swallows hard, his mouth feeling abnormally dry. He’s not sure he likes how blunt and probing this questionnaire is becoming.

Four...

24. I sometimes feel like breaking or smashing things.

His knuckles go white around his pencil, and he only barely resists the temptation to snap it in half as he feels a rush of hard light flow the distance from his gem through the veins of his arm. Geeze, it’s not like he means to break things! It’s just that all of his stupid powers are linked with his emotions, and whenever he gets even marginally upset now things start to splinter, crack in half, and inevitably end up broken. Just another sign he’s fated to ruin everything around him forever, and that his intent doesn’t matter. Why do they have to pry into this? He already feels terrible enough for thinking these things.

Three, he checks, his eyes damp, but mostly because he’s too scared what their response will be otherwise.

25. I am not able to concentrate as well as usual.

He takes a deep breath, coaxing his body to return to a baseline state. Eh. He’ll give this a two.

26. I feel self-conscious around others.

His glance skirts over the edge of the clipboard to monitor the four others currently spread out across the room. One’s rhythmically swinging their legs, another is still filling out a form like him, but sitting criss-cross on the chair, and the other two are quietly typing on their phones. Thankfully none of them are pressing an ounce of attention his way, (at least, not right now), but that doesn’t stop him from feeling like an exposed nerve. Three.

27. I am afraid I may lose control and act violently.

The raw memories hit like lightning before he can even think to prepare.

Flashes of Pink. Orange fragments, cold and slick in his palms. Thunder splits the skies overhead, each cacophonous sound manifesting in perfect synchronicity with his erratic heartbeat, with each tidal wave of thoughts gushing like a maelstrom through his head: SHATTERER, I’m a shatterer, I’m—

Feeling almost dizzy from the intensity of his heart’s pulse, he knows with full certainty that his cheeks are glowing bright pink again. All he can do is clench his fists, suck down whatever amount of fresh air his lungs will allow, and pray to the very stars themselves that it’ll fade away before it garners the attention of every last human in this place.

He checks the box for four, pencil marking so hard that slivers of graphite splinter off onto the page, and moves on before he can be cowardly enough to change his answer.

28. I have thoughts of hurting others.

His fingernails claw into the thin denim at his knee, limbs outright quivering as he stews in his seat, as he’s forced to reflect upon all the ugly, ugly thoughts that have flit across his awareness over the past weeks. Thoughts about one Gem specifically. He’s... always been angry, always harbored deep resentment... but ever since his most recent trip to visit Her, he hasn’t been able to shake this awful idea: a vision of him standing over the remnants of her gemstone, shattered, fragments spilled across the otherwise pristine floors of Homeworld. He... he didn’t do it when he had the chance. He wouldn’t do it, would he?

(Orange fragments, cold and slick...)

Would he??

And yet nevertheless, the thought tortures him with its frequency, makes him feel downright nauseous at every turn. He doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want to feel this way at all.

Four.

29. I am unable to keep up with my schoolwork.

Stop. Sharp inhale. Staccato, shaky exhale. Repeat, deeper this time. Repeat.

(He can no longer see neon pink reflecting in the smooth metal clasp at the top of his clipboard.)

Okay. Schoolwork.

N/A, he writes in one of the boxes, arm still trembling from the last two questions despite his attempt at cool-down exercises. Not applicable. He hasn’t even been to school, and dreads the inevitability of this therapist asking about that mess.

30. It’s hard to stay motivated for my classes.

N/A.

31. I feel confident that I can succeed academically.

N/A, once more.

And like that, the questionnaire is over. Steven is quick to hide his answers behind the front page, and slides the pencil through the length of the metal clip. He glances around him, drinking in his surroundings with pinpoint precision. Despite his earlier concerns, no one is maliciously staring. No one’s whispering. He internally wrestled with a few challenging subjects and what do you know, it didn’t end in an embarrassingly public meltdown. He— he wipes a stray tear from his eye with the butt of his palm— he took a solid step forward today.

Coercing his body to move, he pulls himself out of the cushioned chair and crosses the room.

“I finished,” he says softly, proudly, as he hands the clipboard and pencil to the receptionist. She smiles and accepts his hard-fought offering.

For the first time in a while, the smile he instinctively flashes back almost feels genuine.

I want to be better, he thinks. I will be better.

____

Notes:

This fic is loosely based on my own experience of the intake process, and the questionnaire I had to fill out. No two intake experiences are the same though, of course. This is merely one possibility. I also take personal liberties on the way I depict Steven’s struggle with mental health, and acknowledge and respect that no two fans’ interpretation will be the same.

Additional notes: -Steven’s still a minor, so he can’t actually sign contracts. I figure Greg signed a handful of forms beforehand as his guardian, and then left to allow his son a bit of privacy with filling out the questionnaire stuff. Since he's a teen, they're still giving him the full confidentiality clauses to look over so he's wholly aware how that works, though.

-To expand on a brief comment made in the midst of this, I headcanon that Steven cut both meat and fish out of his diet, and thus actually slipped up on his vegetarian diet when he was training with Jasper. I interpret this as further showcasing how the poor kid— due to being mentally vulnerable at the time and thus liable to coercion/unwise decisions— began to take actions that went against much of his established morality. He ended up sacrificing his dietary choices during those days, just like he briefly sacrificed his pacifistic views to fight Jasper.

-I also headcanon that the therapist Steven is going in to see after this isn’t the one he eventually sticks with and mentions as “my new therapist” in The Future. It’s totally normal and okay to try a few different people to find someone who you click with, after all.

Thank you for reading!

#su #su future #steven universe #su fanfiction #my writing stuff #okay the official crosspost #here you go #i keep switching how i post fics here hhh #i LIKE having the ao3 link in the post itself #but when i do that the fic almost never shows up in tags so *shrugs*

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myaekingheart · 4 years

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126. Hopelessly Devoted

read the scarecrow and the bell on ao3 index | from the beginning | < previous | next >

“That’s it, I’m never drinking ever again” Sekkachi announced, slumping into a booth at the dango shop. Rei paused mid-chew, blinked, swallowed. Sekkachi tightened her ponytail in frustration and flagged down Amai, the waitress. “Two taiyaki, please.”

“Wow, what the fuck did you even do?” Rei asked once Amai skipped away. “It must be really bad if you’re ordering taiyaki.” And saying please, Rei mentally added. It was no secret that Sekkachi had a very limited diet of anything bland and rice based. True, she often treated Hiretsuna to taiyaki after routine doctor’s appointments but she never ordered any for herself.

Sekkachi reached across the table and took a long swig of Rei’s drink. “I made a big fucking mistake, Rei. I’m losing my mind here” she replied. It was the most jittery and unhinged Rei had ever seen her, and it almost even made her anxious herself. “I just have one question for you: when we were at the bar, do you remember me, I don’t know, flirting with anyone?”

Rei scoffed and shook her head. “I barely remember what I did that night, let alone you” she replied. Sekkachi’s thirtieth birthday had only been five days ago and Rei still found herself suffering from the aftermath of it. Her voice was scratchy and sore for days afterward, a consequence of having not formally practiced her last-minute metal screaming, and sometimes she swore she could still feel the sharp sting of alcohol at the back of her throat. All in all, her extended hangover did not bode well for her work performance. She didn’t even want to think about how terribly her last few ANBU missions had gone. She didn’t particularly want to think about the ANBU at all, though, to be honest.

Snapping Rei from her daze, Sekkachi shook her head and looked out at the street. “Maybe I should just go rogue. Disappear completely” she mused. “I don’t think I can ever show my face in Konoha ever again.”

“Oh, come on” Rei whined. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not that bad. Can’t be any worse than anything you’ve already done.” A few choice blunders came to mind: one night stands with unsuspecting girls she broke the hearts of, that one time she got high and jumped in a fountain at the park, then subsequently ran from the Uchiha police force. They had to put her under a genjutsu just to get the cuffs on her and even then, she resisted. There were also the many times she’d put salt on Rei’s cookies at lunch in the academy. Sekkachi was nothing short of an anarchist so her getting into trouble wasn’t even surprising.

Unamused, Sekkachi glared at Rei across the table and replied, “No, believe me, it’s way fucking worse.” Motioning with her hand, Rei made an impatient expression and silently urged her to explain. Sekkachi buried her face in her hands and groaned. “Apparently we ran into someone at the bar that my dumb ass decided to not only flirt with but exchange phone numbers with, and now I’ve got to clean up a mess I didn’t even want to make in the first place.”

Rei gasped in mock shock, asking in hushed tones, “Oh god, was it…a man?”

“No, it was not a man, you idiot!” Sekkachi shouted, reaching across the table to slap Rei on the arm. “I may be dumb but I’m not that dumb!” Rei couldn’t help but laugh, even though she knew deep down the situation wasn’t all that funny. After all, if Sekkachi was this upset, it must be really serious. Amai scurried over with the taiyaki, insisting to Sekkachi that it was on the house, then offered Rei a refill of her water, which she quietly accepted. Once the waitress had scampered off yet again, Sekkachi finally gave a solid explanation. “It was…Mikazuki. You know, that bitch in the ANBU with you.”

“Oh?” Rei asked, cocking a brow. This was definitely an interesting turn of events. Rei was not blind. She saw the way Mikazuki looked at Sekkachi, the way her cheeks blushed whenever word broke of the blue-haired kunoichi. “So? What happened?”

“Nothing happened!” Sekkachi replied. “I just woke up the next morning to a goddamn voicemail from her stupid little hushed voice. Rei, I’ve made a massive fucking mistake. How the hell do I get out of this?”

“Why do you want to get out of it?” Rei asked, taking a sip of her drink. “Mikazuki is a sweetheart, I’m sure you guys would have a good time together.” Nevermind the fact that she’s taken, Rei thought to herself, but she didn’t dare bring that up. She didn’t even know how serious her and Tenzo’s relationship was to begin with. What she said about crashing on his couch, the night Tenzo got wildly drunk, still stuck in the back of Rei’s mind.

Sekkachi rolled her eyes, ripping the head off of her taiyaki and taking a frustrated, barbaric bite. “Because I want nothing to do with her!” she countered. “If I could go the entire rest of my life without having to see Mikazuki Zazen ever again, I would be incredibly grateful.”

“She’s really not that bad” Rei protested, but Sekkachi was already on a rampage. There was no changing her mind.

“She’s bland and she has no fucking backbone. She’s into all that weird tarot stuff which you know I don’t give a rat’s ass about it—it’s all just a bunch of fucking bullshit. Doesn’t mean anything, like how the fuck can you actually sit there and let a bunch of dumb little cards dictate your life? Her haircut is stupid and that third eye freaks me the fuck out and I can never understand a damn thing she’s saying because she’s always whispering and stammering like she can’t even make a proper fucking sentence. It’s absolutely ridiculous, I can’t stand her!”

Rei blinked, having not expected quite so passionate an explanation. What exactly did Sekkachi have against Mikazuki in the first place? What did Mikazuki ever do to her? Rei understood that her comrade had her faults but she found it hard to believe that there was any reason to truly hate her as much as Sekkachi seemed to. Rei took an uncomfortable sip of her drink, her eyes scanning the dango shop, when she locked eyes with an all-too-familiar face standing at the counter. Oh no.

“Mikazuki’s really not that bad, you know” Rei stammered out, trying to save face. Mikazuki herself was staring right at them and based on the look on her face, she had heard everything. Her peridot eyes went glassy with impending tears, her lips pursed as she tried to restrain herself but her red cheeks gave her away. Sekkachi either didn’t seem to notice or didn’t seem to care. She couldn’t afford to.

Amai skirted around the corner, producing a box of petit fours from under the counter. Mikazuki barely looked at her as she took the box, slapped some money on the counter, and ran out of the dango shop. Rei considered running after her to make sure she was okay, but she had no idea what to even say to her. If anything, she was sure she would only make things ten times worse. Either way, she would have to deal with it anyway when she went into work the next morning. She didn’t think she had the strength. Defeated, Rei merely sank down into her seat and pressed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. “You know, Sekkachi, maybe in this new decade of your life you can practice watching what you say.”

Mikazuki raced down the street, hugging the box to her chest. At this point, she didn’t even care if she crushed the damn things. It wasn’t worth it anymore. When she felt she couldn’t maintain composure any longer, she ducked into an alleyway and broke down in tears. She should’ve known it was all a lie. She should’ve known Sekkachi would never be soberly interested in her. After all, what was there to like? Sekkachi was right about everything. She was meek and strange and bothersome. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and shook her head, trying to remain positive. At least she had Tenzo. He cared about her. He appreciated her company. Perhaps that was something she had been taking for granted all this time. Perhaps she had been so preoccupied with what her heart was yearning for that she wasn’t giving her full attention to what her heart already had. Mikazuki looked down at the little cakes through the plastic window of the box, decorated with swirling yellow and pink icing. From now on, things would be different. From now on, she was no longer going to hope and wish for things she knew were not meant for her. She had Tenzo, and she loved him. She was sure she did. He deserved more than what she had been providing but no longer. From this point forward, she would devote herself to him completely. She would love him the way he deserved and they would be happy. She would make sure of it.

#rei natsuki #sekkachi fumeiyo #mikazuki zazen #kakashi x oc #the scarecrow and the bell #naruto #naruto oc #fanfiction

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drreidfics · 4 years

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Dr. Reid and the Broken Girl pt.2

DR. REID AND THE BROKEN GIRL (Working Title)

Characters : SpencerReid x FemReader

Warnings : Abuse, Hints of Self Harm, Eating Disorders, Scenes of Suicidal Behaviours.

CAUTION // TW // THIS BOOK DEALS WITH MATURE CONTENT SUCH AS PROFESSOR AND STUDENT RELATIONSHIP, SEXUAL ASSULT, SELF HARM, MENTAL ILLNESS AND SUBSTANCE ABUSE. IT ALSO INCLUDES A LOT OF RATED-R MATERIAL. IF THIS IS TRIGGERING OR MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE THEN PLEASE DON’T READ.

I munched on a crunchy chicken taco. It was all I was allowing myself to have today. I'd had a try of Dr. Reid's homemade soup that he had made. He was adorable. It was the sweetest thing. His soup would steam up his reading glasses as he slurped the juice off of his spoon. I wish I was that spoon!

"You have to try this Sweet, It's my momma's recipe" he beamed, pushing the spoon towards me.

"But I'm dieting"

"Stop being silly. There's hardly anything on you". He lifted the spoon to my mouth. I slurped the soup. I will admit, it was yummy.

"I am round under these clothes" I joked.

"Round in the places that count" He retorted before clearing his throat and blushing, realising what he had said might have been inappropriate. It gave me butterflies. He liked my body, but my head was a mess and the only opinion that mattered was the screaming voice within it Feeling fat, I nibbled at the taco in my hand. I'd already eaten way too much. Luna slurped on her drink loudly. I frowned. Here we go.

"I saw Dom around town during study break" Luna stated, staring down at her tray full of food."Study break is for studying, not shopping!" I joked, trying to change the subject. My eyes darted anywhere but her. "It's still happening isn't it" She stated matter of factly. I couldn't reply. I could only stare at the floor. What did she expect me to say? Open up to her and tell her all the gory details? She knew enough as it was. She had seen the parts of me, the marks on me, that nobody else had. She had kissed my bruises once upon a time, made me feel safe, cuddled me to sleep. She knew intimate details nobody else did and she swore blind she would kill him. I had to talk her out of going to the cops. It would only make things worse, I'd protest. It usually ended in an argument. Maybe I would tell her everything that is going on within me one day. But today wasn't that day.

She sensed that she had stepped out of line and the look in her eyes told me that she felt terrible. In reality, she shouldn't have, she was my best friend, once was more, and she cared for me. I was the one out of line. I was making her feel bad for caring. My nails picked at the skin on my opposite hand. She noticed and reached her arm over, her hand cupping mine and her thumb stroking my wrist. She opened her mouth to speak again

"and this has to stop too. This not eating, the self-harm, this bad self-image. It's gotta stop."

I sighed. I knew she was right. But I wasn't going to admit it. A look of anguish crossed her perfectly symmetrical face. I looked down at the tray of food in front of us. It was easy for her to say. She was beautiful. She was everything I was not. I wasn't ready to get help. That was the whole truth. You cannot help a person if they are not willing to get help. I am not willing.

"I have eaten today" I said hoping that it would convince her to drop the subject. "A shitty taco from shitty Taco Bell isn't enough - no offence' She said, turning her head to the nosey cleaning lady stood by our table, earwigging for the last bit. I couldn't help but giggle. "I ate earlier" "Mmh, When?" "Dr. Reid gave me a bit of his lunch". A smirk crossed her perfect features. "Y/N and Reid, sitting in a - ' "-Hi," an all too familiar voice interrupted, from behind me, sounding shy. My heart fluttered at the sound of it. I could recognise it anywhere. My cheeks burned a bright red. Had he heard? How long had he been stood there? I am going to kill her, I thought. Luna is forever dropping me in the shit. I kicked her leg gently from under the table and turned to face him. He looked nervous... adorable. "Oh, hi Dr." Luna said, looking past me, smiling. "Y/N, thanks for the dinner". She turned to Spencer. "I was just leaving for the bathroom. You can have my seat! You kids have fun!" she joked.

She stood up, kissing my cheek and gathering her belongings, before skipping away. What was she doing? I thought. She ran towards the glass exit doors. I am going to murder her, one day, I really am. It was pouring rain, it was dark, it was cold and she was my ride.

"I'm - I'm thirty-" Dr. Reid called after her, looking like a lost pup, his social awkwardness coming out. He stood around awkwardly and licked his bottom lip. I loved it when he did that. I had noticed he had done it a few times around me and he had confessed to me that that was what he did when he was nervous. Do I make him nervous? ... Stop this thought process! He was probably nervous because he had just bumped into his college student un-arranged outside of class. It had nothing at all to do with me. Still, what I wouldn't give for him to bend me over and fuck me right now. I bit my lip as thoughts of him bending me over the table and taking me entered my mind.

"I haven't interrupted your date have I?" he asked grimacing, interrupting my dirty thoughts and swaying side to side.

A small smile spread across my face. Yes, he was interrupting, butnot for the reason he thinks. He swayed a little, unsure of what to do with himself, and straightened out his coat.

"No. We're friends. You know this" I replied warmly. "Well, we were, then we were kind of dating, now we're not. I'm not gay. Well I kind of am. I'm not sure what I am. Oh, you know this all - I do like men too - Sorry, I'm oversharing. I do that when I'm nervous" I stuttered, anxious. He looked amused now, his dark eyes twinkling. He looked amazing.

I noticed his top button was undone and I just wanted to rip off the rest of his shirt. His hair was slightly messier than usual. I wanted to run my fingers through it. He must have had a stressful day. Don't worry Dr. Reid, my mouth could make it all better, I thought.

His black trench coat fitted him perfectly. He had it unbuttoned slightly and he had on a purple scarf with a brown saddle bag. I loved the vintage element that he somehow managed to incorporate into anything he wore. He always looked smart. And hot. He had a hand full of brown paper shopping bags and a coffee in his spare hand.

"Hey, none of my business what you like to do in the bedroom. You can like whoever you want to like, I was just worried I'd interrupted." he held up his hands defensively, a cheeky smirk on his face. "Excuse me if I'm wrong but I think your friend has left you. I mean, that's definitely not the bathroom door... unless I've been doing it wrong my whole life." he joked with a smile as he slipped into the booth seat across from me.

I giggled at his joke. It wasn't a forced giggle. It was a genuine one. He always made me giggle when I was around him. Maybe it was the excitement that he filled me with. The light hit his eyes perfectly. Beautiful, shiny, and captivating. I could have stared into them all night. He smiled and, looking down shyly, took a sip of his steaming coffee. "Who comes to Taco Bell for coffee?" I questioned, my tone a teasing one. He smiled up at me. "Who comes to Taco Bell for a date?" he retorted. I put up my middle finger. He mocked heartbreak. "No I got this overpriced beauty at Starbucks. I was walking by and I saw you in here and couldn't resist not seeing you"

I blushed violently. He shuffled awkwardly in his seat and cleared his throat. An awkward silence filled the air. This was the first time I had felt at a loss for words around him. I don't think he meant it like I wished he did. He doesn't like me. He's just friendly. His eyes darted anywhere but mine. He most certainly didn't mean it in the way that I was hoping he'd mean it and that was why he couldn't look me in the eye. He probably came to ask me how my school work was going or something. We had flirted quite a bit but it was all fun and games... that or his awkward social interaction.

"I like our conversations Spence, so... I'm glad." I smiled trying to fill the awkward silence and taking a slurp of my diet soda. He smiled before looking behind him. "Is your friend coming back?" he asked, his beautiful eyes darting from me to the door. I looked around. She'd taken her coat, her bag and her car keys with her when she left. I had presumed she'd wait in her car for me... I turned to look out the window and noticed her car was no longer there. I guess she's not...

"No. I don't think so. Sorry about her. She's a little..." "-Erratic?'" he asked, interrupting me and brushing his, slightly curled at the end, chestnut coloured hair out of his eyes.

"Yes. And she was my ride." I sighed.

"Huh -”

“- don't worry, I can give you a ride" he smiled, as he shoved a handful of Luna's leftover fries into his mouth, making me smile. He looked so cute. I've never wanted to hold someone more than what I did in that moment. Damn it, stop this, I scolded. It was no use having feelings for someone, who'd never love you back, right? All I was doing was teasing myself. A man like him would never fall for a girl like me regardless of whether he was my professor or not. I knew this, he knew this and I needed to stop being so silly.

"Thank-you" I smiled. He smiled back. "I am a true gentleman. So, how was your day?" He asked, still shoving cold fries into his mouth. "It was pretty shitty, to be honest. My lunch break was fun though" I smiled. He winked at me making my heart flutter. "I have that charm" he joked. "You'll have to keep me around to save your day". "Oh for sure I do" I smiled.

He slipped his legs further towards me, wrapping them around mine, from underneath the table. Normally I would flinch and jolt back at any sort of unsuspected human touch. But, I didn't move. It just felt so...natural. So... right. Being so close to him always made me feel safe.

If his legs were giving me so many sparks then I can't imagine what his dick would feel like. I felt heat radiating from down there. I find it very hard to get turned on due to what I am dealing with but he just does wonders to me. I am a hot mess around him. I felt wrong thinking this. Not only was he my professor, my best friend, but I felt guilt for thinking that way given my situation. I shouldn't want a man to touch me. Should I? I usually don't. The only person I could ever stand the thought of touching me intimately was Luna... Until this man entered my life. Dr. Reid... What are you doing to me.

After an hour of talking and laughing we had decided it was time to call it a night. The manager of the restaurant, looked at us throughout, pretty annoyed. The poor woman just wanted to close up for the night but was too polite to ask us to leave.

He skipped in front of me in the empty car park, laughing joyously before spinning around to look at me. "So, home?" he asked. I nodded. Yeah, home... "Oh. Here you go". He slipped his coat off of his shoulders and wrapped it around me. The fall air had dropped cold. Extreme opposite to the warm weather we had throughout the day. I didn't think I could fall more in love. Was I really in love though? I mean, can you really be in love with someone that you have never been intimate with? Of course, you can, right? Intimacy doesn't have to be sex, I reminded myself.

I'd known him for over a year now. We had been close since the first day he walked into the classroom, on that cold depressing day in September, and announced that he was taking over Professor Baldwin. I still remember his face, how he looked as I peaked up from the book that I was reading, his eyes softening as they met mine. I'd always felt this connection with him. I can't explain it nor can I act on it. I just feel like, whenever we're near, he made me complete.

He has helped me through so much knowingly and unknowingly. He was there for me when Luna and I hit a rough spot in - whatever we had that was going on - we didn't name it and I'm glad of that. He along with Luna is the only person who knows I find both genders attractive. I would never dare tell Sharon. She was very old school. I was worried of how she might react. He also knew about my constant dieting - though not to the extent in which I did it - and I'd confide in him many a times when I just wanted it all to end. He had stayed up all night talking me down many times. I would never dare tell him that a lot of times I acted upon those thoughts though. He didn't get to know that part. Nor did he get to know what was going on at home. It was embarrassing. I would class him as one of my best friends. Was that weird? To be so close to your professor? I suppose it would be even weirder if I tired to act upon the dirty thoughts in my mind...

He interrupted my thoughts, pulling a set of car keys from his back pocket, unlocking his car. It was a very nice, expensive car. Sometimes I wondered if he was a part-time stripper with the car and the apartment (he had shown me pictures of it before he had moved in last fall.). He had an expensive taste that a teachers salary probably couldn't buy. There was something hiding behind those dark, mysterious eyes. My guess is a stripper. Heck, I'd pay to watch that.

I opened the passenger side door as he threw his bags into the boot. I wish I didn't have to go home. Back to him... "I'll direct you if you want?" I asked knowing the answer would be no. "No, it's ok, I don't live far from there so I can alway's remember where you live. I actually viewed a house to rent around that area." he smiled as he slipped into the driving seat and placed his keys in the ignition. "plus, eidetic memory?" he winked. I nodded my head as he shifted into drive pulled out of the parking lot. "Bet your alone time is always fun" I joked, biting my lip. "That it is" he smiled mysteriously.

It was a quiet drive. The rain pattered heavily against the windscreen and the wind blew violently. It was nice to listen to. It wasn't like we didn't have anything to talk about. It was just that we enjoyed being in each others company regardless of the silence. I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket and I scrambled trying to find it. Spencer glanced over. Curious as to what I was doing.

"Text" I informed him. He smiled warmly and nodded before focusing back on the road. The phone screen lit up the car brightly hurting my eyes slightly. I was expecting a text from Luna asking how it was going or begging me to come round for some 'girl time' but it wasn't her. Instead, it was from Dom.

'Mom on business again. Means I get to do whatever I want 2 u for a week. U'll be sorry Luna got involved again. .' it read.

No, this can't be happening. I'm going to have a panic attack, I thought. No matter how often this happens it still hurts the same. The fear is still the same. How could she do this to me? I thought angrily. A tear fell from my eye and my breathing became heavy. I wiped it away frantically, hoping Spence hadn't seen it, my mind filled with thoughts of dread. What was he going to do? I always think that he had done his worst but he always seems to beat it every time his mother went away. Maybe this time he'll kill me. As sick as it was, that thought was the kindest thing he could do. Maybe I would have the guts end my own life tonight and get it over with.

"What is that?" a sharp voice interrupted my thoughts. I jumped in shock before fumbling for the lock screen button. "What? Oh, nothing. Sorry. Was the light distracting you?" I asked before realising that we had arrived at my house. Just my house, not my home. "No. In case you haven't noticed we are outside of your house. Now, what was that?" he asked, a little more harshly this time. What gave him the right to ask these questions? I thought, the anger inside me brewing.

"I said it was nothing" I said monotonously.

"Why are you lying to me Y/N?" he asked. Annoyance drenched his voice. A tear broke free again only this time I didn't care if he saw it. "Who was that and what did they mean?". I was so angry. How fucking dare he look over my shoulder. How dare he read my texts and how dare he demand me answer him when it had nothing to do with him at all.

"I can't believe this"

"What?"

"You. How fucking dare you" I spat out as I frantically gathered my things, unbuckling my seatbelt and opening the car door. "My texts have nothing to do with you. Who I text has nothing to do with you. My life has nothing do do with you. How dare you demand answers over something that has nothing to do with you. In case you haven't noticed, you are my teacher, I am your student. I am none of your concern" I got out of the car. "Thanks for the ride Dr". Venom laced my tongue. His face broke my heart but I was too angry at the time to care. I don't think I was angry at him. I think my anger just came out around him because I felt I was safe to show emotion. I slammed the car door and turned my back on him, running towards my front porch, knowing he was watching, making sure I was safe. But I was not looking back at him once. I knew it could have been the last time I'd ever see him. I should have stared at him longer.

Broken bone after broken bone. It started when I was 9 and had continued ever since. He was two years older and a lot stronger. I should be used to this pain, I should be used to the rape, I should be used to the bruises and I should be used to the names. I tell everyone I'm fine but when I am alone I cry. I cut myself within an inch of my life. I overdose on pills and lay in the bath hoping to pass out and drown. I tie a noose round my neck and dare myself to jump. It never works. Then I bandage it up, plaster on a smile and act like I'm okay.

I closed the door behind me entering quietly, willing him to be in his bedroom on a game or something, Hoping he'd be unable to hear me whilst I ran up the stairs and lock my door. I almost made it. Almost. But he stood tall in front of me, blocking me from my safety.

He left me alone at 2am, leaving to go on some drug fuelled party bender. The black fuzzes invaded my eyes, my ears screeching. Everywhere I looked they clouded my vision. I was too weak to do anything. It was a mix of not eating, my emotions building up, and the abuse I had suffered. Maybe it was time to give up? Was this supposed to be the end? Was this all that my life was to be? Blood dripped from my nose. I crawled towards my en-suite.

Sitting inside the walk in shower not even bothering to take off my long sweatshirt, I reached up, turning it on. The hot water stung my skin. It burned but it felt good. Maybe I could burn away his touch... My shaky hand reached for the Stanley knife I kept in there. I didn't have to hide it. I had no one checking up on me - no one that would notice. The sharp blade indented my wrist as I held it in place. I didn't feel fearful. I've tumbled down this hole many times before.

I pushed down hard, the blade cutting in deep, blood trickled down my arm. I watched as the thing that reminded me I was still living washed down the drain. I closed my eyes leaning my head against the shower wall. My phone sat, smashed up, on the floor near me. I really needed to apologise for what I've done, I thought. Maybe it was just my brain clinging onto life. A small, subconscious, part of me that still had hope.I don't know. Opening up my texts I typed,

'I'm sorry Spence. I shouldn't have had a go at you like that. It wasn't your fault. I'm having a hard time... I'm sorry, love you. Don't worry, I won't be around soon'

I typed. I didn't dare press send. The small voice in my brain comforted me. 'What would it matter. It's 4am, You'll be gone by the time he sees it anyway, it said. I gulped, hitting send, I placed my phone back on the floor. I felt dizzy and sick. I suppose it was due to the low blood sugars. My vision darkened and clouded again. I was tired. I pressed my head against the wall and closed my eyes allowing the darkness to consume me as my phone vibrated frantically on the floor.

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naturaldisasterfanfiction · 4 years

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Stretching my body out sighing out, that was a nice stretch. Looking up to the ceiling smiling to myself, since I have had my scan, found out I am seven weeks which was a week ago so now I am eight weeks. I have heard the heartbeat and I feel the connection, I feel I have someone with me through this journey even though I am alone in a way, but I am not, I have baby Fenty with me. Pushing the covers off of me and getting up out of bed, my smile grew seeing my scan picture. I rest it up on the side table so I can look at it and fall asleep with my baby scan facing me, I am incredibly happy now. I have accepted it and it’s the best thing that has happened to me, I am literally on a high right now but slightly tired. We came to California, arrived last night. I am getting the Humanitarian of the Year award with BET, I could have sent a video, but I just said I will just come here and get the award, then I can go New York, see my workers. Get some work done in New York and then my photoshoot for the promo, do my promo video shoot for Fenty Beauty and then go to Mexico to finish off the lingerie shoot I was doing, all before I become big when I then have to hide behind a camera, unless I get a double chin before then, I will have to wear a mask. The reason I wanted to come and get the award myself, it’s because this bitch is going into hiding, I won’t be getting nothing for nobody or doing anything so I thought why not give the fans some pictures and a little run on the red carpet. I am lucky, lucky in the sense that my body is not making big changes so fast because I won’t be able to deal if that happened.

Standing at the side staring at myself in the mirror, there is a slight pouch to me, ever so slightly but this is another one for the books. Taking a picture in the mirror of me standing to the side with my stomach out, I want to keep it for myself. This will probably be my only baby, I mean I am not going to find a man and if I am bad now, I will be worse after this because of my child, men out there are very weird. Moving my hand and letting my long tee fall, looking at the picture of me. I am very happy about this, I had to accept it which took time to do but I got there and now I am happier than ever. My aim is to do everything before The Diamond Ball, that is when the world will find out because I can’t hide it, by then I will be embracing it and ready for the world to know. I have all of this planned out, just that one thing I am not sure where to add and that is Chris. Where do I put him, where do I include him in this because as much as I am not ready for it, the world isn’t. I love him, I can openly say that but he’s a mess. I laughed at him stalking me, but I am doing it to him now, I am watching him and seeing what he is doing and what quote he put up. Every post on Instagram is the most negative bullshit about his aura, nobody cares. He is searching for something he can fix, himself and I hate it for him, but I can’t fix him and help myself. Chris is a worry because I do want to tell him, in the right setting.

My mom be feeding me “I am done” pushing the plate back “you eating for two Robyn” I chuckled at my mom, her face is ever so serious “I know but my baby is tiny right now, it just needs a little bit. As long as mommy is ok, baby is ok. I have never felt so happy, inside I am happy. I feel whole because I have wanted this” Rorrey rolled his eyes “why do I need a dad when I have you” kissing my teeth “he is going to be the first one in love, trust me” Jen pointed out “you women all say this, I will be in the living room playing games” he got up from the chair “it’s so good to see you like this, because I was scared you was going to jump into getting rid of it, to see you so vibrant and happy. It’s just nice to see” Mel has come back from Barbados and is with us in California, which I am happy about “I was scared Mel, I was so scared to think what I have got myself into, I didn’t feel in control but god is guiding me and I will get better with it. I am not perfect, and I will make mistakes, I am not perfect. I wish I was perfect, as a mother to be, I will make the mistakes” I know I will make mistakes “what about the father? You’re in Cali, he is here also” I feel like all eyes are on me now, Mel had to do this “I may be feeling good in myself about this baby but I still need time to tell him mentally, he is fighting demons on his own and I see it. I don’t know if you girls look on his Instagram, I remember when his page was all fine, he was good and now he’s just dark with his words and I am seeing things I don’t like. I want to help him, but I have to help myself, I am thinking can he handle this because every time I am with him, close to him or people see it. He gets abused about it like I need protection, it hurts me to see it. No matter how much I tell the world I am ok they do it to him, this can mentally put you down. I am trying to find peace within me to help him as I am pregnant, I just don’t know. I want him to be ok with this. I mean even I got subjected to abuse about it, it’s a lot and I am just trying to find the right balance” clasping my hands together “I will tell him, that is all I can tell you” he worries me, his mental state does. And then I see him with whippets, he is doing drugs and I am just put off, I don’t want to say that either. I just need to gather myself; I will do it though and he will know, and I will be able to help guide him or we argue together about it all but it can go either way for both of us “I suppose, you ain’t a nobody he got pregnant so this will be a big deal. It does need to be handled right” I am glad they are on board and realise it is a big thing for the both of us, it’s just got to be done right.

Jen walked into the bedroom “what happened?” she asked, she is asking because I have now gone back into bed and I feel terrible all over again “pregnancy” I mumbled “you were ok before, but anyways. Jahleel wants you out soon to get dressed, I mean you will be late there. We have two bodyguards; Frank has arrived, and we got Rich. Extra security for you, it needs to be done. I want you to be extra careful, you are sensitive so mind yourself” nodding my head “stop looking so grumpy and besides, pregnancy can do that to you, one minute fine and the next miserable” poking my lips out “I have nobody to hug me in bed” I mumbled staring at Jen “well here I am! Your cuddle buddy has arrived” I smiled watching Jen walk around the bed “hold me, make me feel all warm” I smiled to myself, I just need a good cuddle in bed “you’re just worrying, that is all. Stressing yourself out” Jen said feeling the bed move behind me “I suppose, but I am happy. Just need a moment to myself to gather my thoughts and stuff” Jen is so annoying, she is giggling all up in my ear “stop it” I giggled “come here, my little baby want snuggled” Jen held me from behind “you’re not the hug I wanted, I regret it” I really do now “awww you have the scan on your side table, it has your forehead already. We already winning” smiling to myself looking at the baby scan, I swear to god she is annoying, Jen touched my boob “they feel sore yet, wait till these little babies start feeling sore. You about to feel even more moody” she is not the best cuddle buddy at all.

Why am I hating this, sat here staring at myself in this mirror is making me feel insecure “does my face look fat to you?” I asked Priscilla, I feel it “bloated as fuck” Yusuf shouted from across the room “wait what!” I turned in the chair ever so quickly “woah, calm down. I could have poked your eye out there, Yusuf laughed to himself “you are so gullible, you look beautiful stop it. Your hair is looking shinier though. I like it” Yusuf is such a bitch “whatever” turning in the chair “are you done?” Priscilla eyeballed me “I do not want a lawsuit if I poke your eye out, now can we all relax?” I sighed out “I am ok” I am not really; I feel like shit. In the morning I was so happy, felt so good in myself. Then I felt like I wanted to be sick and now I am self-conscious, I am ok. My people say I am fine so I must be fine “we need to hurry up sis, like you about to be so late” Ja said at the side of me “well what is new?” waving him off “what is new? Girl, you about to be rushed in, I want bitches to faint when they see on the red carpet, you hear that? The red fucking carpet. This like my last award show I be doing, can we not?” he has a point “Rihanna finally quitting music?” Yusuf said laughing in the background “wait until your fans bully you” rolling my eyes.

Smirking at Jahleel, I feel bad that I haven’t told Yusuf or Pricilla “is this Vodka? Since when?” Yusuf pointed out “since now, I have changed” I lied “let me taste then? We aren’t having you back out now! You always do this, we taking this together” moving the shot glass frowning at him, Jahleel put water in it, I am so glad I have him to do it “shut up” he is playing “let’s just do this then I can leave” watching them clink shot glasses and I joined in with them, I gasped “Yusuf!” I screamed out “this bitch lied!” hitting his arm “ok, look. There is a reason to this!” I shouted ��she is on a water diet” Jahleel said like that makes a difference now I got caught “no way, my girl loves a glass of wine” Jahleel mouthed I tried “I should tell you both anyways, I need my team on board and I will see you both here and Dennis, wherever he is. Dennis. Come here because I will need you all eventually again. This has to be secret, like kept in here but then again you all are good at that” Yusuf has the judgemental look on his face “what did you do now” he crossed his arms “me? Nothing but” I breathed out, I mean there is no reason to hide this from these when they will be there with me “well, I am pregnant” I said smiling before hearing crash of glass hit the floor “Yusuf!” I shouted “no, you’re lying?” he said in disbelief “I promise you; I am pregnant. This is why Ja and I have been arguing back and forth about the timings, this will generally be my last time to do anything related to red carpet for a long time. It’s about to be about me and my baby” Yusuf looks so scared but I think he is in disbelief “you always said the sperm donor is coming and you did it” Dennis hugged me “I am so happy and I can’t wait to do the pregnancy photoshoot with you!, I have ideas now” I cooed “but I know the dad anyways” Priscilla hugged me “so happy for you, you deserve this. You really do” they are so sweet “oh, who is it?” Yusuf is like ready for a storm “I will sue all of you but I trust you all, so uhm. He doesn’t know yet, it was a drunk thing. It’s Chris’ baby” I admitted “Hemsworth?” Daniel said “would I be drunk with him? But Chris Brown” Yusuf let out a shriek, staring at him “you are pregnant with Chris Brown’ child? Rihanna what the fuck have you been doing!?” Ja is nodding his head like I told you so “a lot, clearly but it’s a mess and I am sure you all are ready for the ride?” Yusuf laugh “bitch I am shook, but I am ready. Come here you crazy fucking bitch” Yusuf hugged me close “you about to be a beautiful milf, I am here for it baby” I chuckled at Yusuf saying that but he is not wrong, I will be that now.

I wore something revealing, I thought why not because I can right now. I am wearing a satin robe over a plunging playsuit which showed off my toned legs. High heeled strappy sandals and a chunky pendant necklace completed my look, and my long black hair curled and tied up in a loose updo. I am ready for this “am I even ok to go on the red carpet? Like am I that late?” I hope not, I want to show off my legs “we are going to show you off, don’t you worry” Ja said, oh the carpet is still kind off full “your mom said for you to just go in from the back?” Frank said in the front “my mother worries too much it is ok; she needs to stop worrying. Thank god she is at home” rolling my eyes, she is fussing. The SUV came to a halt and Rich came out of the SUV in front, watching him run over to the SUV “I don’t want everyone fussing now, I mean it” I am ok, they will know if I need help or not. The SUV door opened; Rich held his hand out to me. Grabbing his hand as I got out “you look so beautiful, oh my god!” Taraji came out of nowhere “thank you” I said smiling at her, looking behind me at Mel getting out.

Mel laughed at me, I don’t find her funny “this is why I don’t come” I said in a whisper “it’s just you, sitting with the Cash Money record team, it’s nice to see” I laughed shaking my head, I am sat next to Lil Wayne which is fine because he is not here, but just behind me on the left of me I have Drake and I have Chris here too, I did see him with another shade of colour on his head but it was quick. He didn’t see, I saw him “don’t you think the girls here are a hot mess, like this whole place is a hot mess” me and Mel are just bitching “They be wearing things just to wear them, I mean is this a strip club” Mel laughed “says you, looking like you going to some sex club for rich men” hitting Mel’ leg “I think hot mess was on the cards, chile” looking ahead of us “I am blessed, I am so blessed to be sitting next to the queen, my queen. How are you?” getting up from my seat “I am good, when I heard I am sitting with you, I asked to move. Not going to lie” Lil Wayne looked at me offended as fuck “come on now, I will be good. Promise, you know I appreciate you” sitting down on my seat laughing “you better be good” I rather sit in the back but here I am, all in the front like I asked for this, maybe I shouldn’t have worn this.

Some unknown dude called NAV is performing, my time to go to the toilet “you coming” I said as I got up, this is my toilet break “yes I am” Rich came out of nowhere “I am just going to the toilet” I laughed at him “I will walk you” seeing from the corner of my eye, Drake is coming “yes, let’s go this way” turning on my heels “watch out” hearing Drake say, oh the camera is conveniently here “you good?” he hugged Mel first, he knows I don’t care for it “nice seeing you” Mel said, maybe I should go the other way. Drake looked at me “like old times, we should have performed work together if you was coming” I nodded my head smiling, he didn’t hug me which is good of him “I need the bathroom” I pointed at him before walking off “the bathroom is that way” he pointed the opposite side “I didn’t know you got a new job of directing people now” hitting his arm to move out of the way, I caught him licking his lips before walking by Rich to go “hey!” Cardi rushed over to me “your legs look so good, bitch!” hugging her laughing “thank you, I regret it now. I cold” I laughed it off, but I am being deadass about this.

I wonder if I will have a girl, I really would like a daughter but I don’t for either because this is a blessing, like praise Jesus, I am blessed but if it’s a girl, that would be beautiful for me. She will be my bestie forever “Rihanna!” hearing my name, looking up like a deer caught in headlights. I am so confused “get up” Mel said as she got up to clap, oh this is me. I am so lost because I rather sit and daydream of my baby now, I laughed looking around “thank you” I didn’t want to walk alone either but here I am, alone but it’s whatever. Walking by the crowd jus clapping for me “Rih” Rich came up behind me, he held my hand as I went up the stairs “thank you” smiling at him, he is coming out of everywhere today “thank you so, so, so much” hugging Debra “thank you so much” I said to her but I do not remember a single word she said, turning around to the crowd and seeing the standing ovation, this will always get me shy “thank you” I laughed down the mic, even though theses lights are shining in my eyes I can still see Chris from here, his multicoloured self just there, waiting for them to sit down before I started.

I blew out air as I was helped down by Rich, I am glad that is done and it is a commercial break “you looked great up there” Mel said “thank you, I felt nervous” Mel held my hand, everyone is walking around because it is a commercial break “I want to go now, I am just done now” I pulled a face “let’s go this way” Rich led the way, I guess Rich knows a quicker way out for us “Chris is here, why don’t you tell him that you have something to tell him. This is your chance” Mel said in my ear, is Mel crazy staring at her like she is crazy “he is right there, just say it” Mel dragged me, Chris is speaking to Usher but I caught him looking at me and he looked away so quickly, he knows I caught him but he looked away in annoyance, I know him and he seems angry and he’s probably angry I told him to go that night. It’s like everything was in slow motion, Chris moved back from Usher, he is staring at me and I am staring at him as I am being dragged to him. Slowly I see a smile form on his face, am I really doing this “come” Rich blocked my view and stood in front of Chris “let’s go before it gets busy again” Rich moved and Chris’ smile disappeared, Mel let my hand go thinking I am saying anything “hey” that was it “hi” walking by him, that was so awkward for us and I just fucked that up but I was put on the spot.

I am glad to be in the SUV “what happened to you saying Chris I have something to tell you, come to the apartment?” Mel is annoyed with me, but I was put on the spot “I freaked out Mel, he seemed to be so mixed with emotions. Like he was angry, annoyed and happy. Only thing we said was hey and hi, it was all awkward and I felt like everyone was watching us, it’s not the setting, I am not ready to deal with Chris” I wish they just let me live, let me just do this how I want it “he smiled because it looked like we was walking towards him, you need to get over people seeing you both speak. You sharing a whole ass child, the public going to have a field day with you both” she has a point but that is my issue to get used to that.

#Chrianna #Chrianna FF #Chrianna Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction

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valiancyvulnerability · 4 years

Text

Body Image and Young People

This is a big topic that has so many layers to it. I have been trying to collect my thoughts the past few days in order to try to cover as much as I could, so I am going to do my best.

I want to begin by going into detail about my battle with my own body over the years, in detail, in order to create a clear image about what goes through someone’s brain that is struggling with severe confidence issues.

I never was a skinny kid, necessarily, but sports were never truly my scene. Throughout my last few years of elementary school and middle school, I was pudgier than most of the kids in my grade, but I was not an unhealthy weight by any means. That being said, as I mentioned, I didn’t play sports, so I was already a target for people that felt superior to me as someone who wasn’t athletic and was “heavier”. This was the stem of my self-confidence issues, but it didn’t get to its worst until I was in high school.

I became accustomed to swimming fully clothed at pool parties, wearing clothes that were oversized in order to cover any lines or bumps that I felt like were flaws on my frame. If that meant wearing sweaters and sweatpants in the summer, then that’s what I needed to do.

When I turned sixteen, I wanted to change my whole image into someone I wasn’t (see past blog posts) and started working out excessively and cut my eating almost entirely in order to lose weight, and in my head, get people to like me. I got results both physically and socially and ended up losing about twenty-five pounds, so I persisted. I was so focused on how I was viewed by people, that I failed to acknowledge the issue at hand until February of 2020.

My anxiety was at its peak and when Covid-19 hit, I found myself alone and focusing on nothing else but what I was eating, what I looked like, and what number the scale flashed back at me. I substituted all my meals with a powder drink that satisfied me for a few hours, and then I would repeat. I lost about twenty pounds in a month.

The way this situation is different, though, is that I wasn’t attempting weight loss in order to please others, it was a competition with myself, and it wasn’t a friendly one. I didn’t view it as what it truly was until I started passing out. One afternoon, I got ready to take prom pictures with my friends with a local photographer in my town. I went to go pick up my friends and got out of the car and they started speaking to me, but I could hear nothing--I blacked. I started sweating and couldn’t form my sentences properly. I would get up and walk to my bedroom when I felt it coming, and I would just wipe out completely. I knew it was an issue, but it was not enough to get me to stop what I had already started, because I wanted results. Anytime we would get carry-out or I would eat an actual meal, I would return to my room and tremble, thinking about every bite of food I had just consumed.

Although I am on a more nourishing and healthy track now, it is still a daily occurrence where I want to slap myself across the face for eating breakfast, for going out to dinner with my family, or for having a snack now and then. I have spent many a night, alone, driving around screaming and crying at nothing simply for feeling the way I do. It’s almost an addictive behavior that I didn’t want to acquire, but the truth is that I did, and I am doing my best to overcome the obsession that gets in the way of my everyday routine, and we are getting somewhere.

Enough about me, though. The reason I am writing this in the first place is because I have so much to say as it’s something I know I am still personally dealing with, and I know the majority of people my age are. If we are being honest, we all would change something about our body if we could. Whether it be that we want to lose weight, or gain it, we all have our personal battles. In today’s day and age, though, it’s a more toxic world regarding body image and perception. Here is why.

SOCIAL MEDIA

As of 2019, teenagers often spent up to nine hours on social media on a daily basis. The most toxic platforms for young people struggling with their body, in my opinion, would be Instagram and TikTok. Because most social media apps are programmed to spit out information and content that interests the user, the posts that are viewed are specific to each individual.

With Instagram, especially, everyone aspires to be an “influencer”. They are skinny, tan, have clear skin, travel, eat power foods, and young people love that. The reality is, is that most of us don’t live perfect lives like that, but we truly wish we did, so we want to get as close as we can.

With this, diet culture is a very popular concept among those wanting to bring a change to their bodies. Although this has been something that has been advertised for years now, mainly for adults, the new wave of diets for adolescents is scary. Most of them are malnourishing and can do more damage than one would think. Often times, though, they are bizarre or unheard of, but seem simple enough for someone who wants fast results. Because of this, once again, it’s easy for both myself and people my age to get reeled in quickly into that idea.

(I don’t want parents reading this to think that this necessarily entails that social media needs to be taken from their teenagers, but it is something to be aware of. Social media is a great way to stay connected (especially now) and gives us a voice to do good and bring change, as well.)

THE SOCIAL FACTOR

Because this is an issue that most of the youth deals with, whether it be minor or major, it can become a competition without intending it to be. If my friends are losing weight, why aren’t I? If they’re doing this diet, then I need to. They feel better about themselves than I do. What am I doing wrong?

If you find yourself feeling like this too often, and it gets to a point where it gets in the way of your relationships, then it’s a conversation to be had. You shouldn’t have to feel like you are competing with those you hold close to you, but you also shouldn’t feel like you have to walk on eggshells every time you are with them to not say the wrong thing. Find some common ground, and support each other at times of insecurity.

High school can be a terrible atmosphere for someone who feels like their weight isn’t ideal. Teenagers are quick to make mindless comments and insults about people’s appearance. Whether it comes from a place of low self-esteem themselves or not, it doesn’t justify it, and this can be a direct and harsh cause of body image problems.

THE MENTAL FACTOR

If someone struggles with general anxiety, depression, or another mental condition, having your body as an enemy can sometimes heighten the severity of the issue as a whole. It truly goes hand in hand. For me, my anxiety was at its worst when my eating habits were at its worst. I was focused on what I was eating, focused on what the scale read back to me, and in the rare moments I wasn’t fixed on that, it was worrying about other things happening in my life. Everything was just raised to a higher degree.

The two words I have been trying to avoid so far, “eating disorder”, is something that I would love to say is just a false or dramatic phrase, but the reality is is that it’s a demon, and a real one. With the world of social media, again, they’re often glorified to be an artsy aesthetic to be achieved. Eating disorders does not mean “just not eating”. It can be anorexia, bulimia, binge eating, body dysmorphia, and because there are so many forms, it’s not always going to be apparent just looking at a person. Often times it isn’t. That is something to keep in mind, because one of the most damaging things for someone struggling with an ED is making them feel like their issues aren’t valid because it’s not physically obvious to you, or that someone else is worse off in your eyes.

HEALING

The first step that has helped me, personally, is just becoming comfortable. I need to become comfortable with myself in the way I am now for me to appreciate any way my body looks in the future. If I’m unhappy with myself now, when am I ever going to be happy, regardless of the supposed improvements I’m making? It’s been a tricky thing for me to figure out, but I force myself to go to pool parties, I hang out around the house sometimes just wearing underwear, so I can become familiar and comfortable with seeing myself and my body so I can reach a point to where that’s normal.

The next thing is to follow the steps that you know are going to be beneficial and healthy for you. If that means working out to gain muscle, to lose weight, or dieting, then do it, BUT do it in such a way that is going to be, again, beneficial. Don’t go to the extremes for quicker results, because you will end up falling down a hole that will be hard to climb out of.

Lastly, if you see fit, go to therapy! There’s a large stigma around therapy as it makes people think that those who go are insane or can’t function on their own, which is far from the truth. Think of it as more of a helping hand from someone who has a different view and has solutions that may be overall helpful. Reading this blog is simply just how I see things, and that goes for any post I make. I am not a professional. I am not an expert. I am an eighteen year-old that just wants to share his experiences in order to bring awareness. There are many great therapists out there, and there are several websites you can visit to find one that meets your needs specifically.

I am overjoyed to see that the modeling industry, for example, is heading in a more positive direction as far as inclusivity goes. Plus-size models, LGBTQ+, and people of color are booking shows, spreads, and can be seen on billboards. This is just the start, and the rest lies within everyone as people to stop shaming others for their appearance, because if we didn’t from the beginning, there would be no reason for anyone to feel uncomfortable in their own skin to begin with. Imagine a world free of judgment for a moment. Imagine how differently every single person on the planet would be living. It’s something to think about.

I want to reiterate--don’t be afraid to ask for help! It is a direct demonstration of strength, rather than weakness, to admit that you need an outside source to help you get through whatever battle you may be experiencing.

And as always, be kind to one another and stay safe out there!

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aemonded · 4 years

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3, 7, 9, 15, 18

booknet ask game (Apologies for the delay!):

3. what was the last book you rated 1/5?

Probably this horrific and justifiably priced 0.25 cent paperback I got from the library book sale. I care so little about the title I’m not even going to bother getting up to look at it, but basically it was somehow involving a mystery on a liner heading to New York, and The Kennedys circa 1941 when Joe (’God what a terrible person’) Kennedy was ambassador to England (And casual Nazi supporter/isolationist, lovely).

But the book promises you that it will mostly talk about Rosemary Kennedy as a character. Which I liked, because in case you don’t know, Rosemary Kennedy was JFK’s sister who was considered the ‘prettiest’ of all the Kennedy girls, but also constantly was on a diet because she ‘put on weight easily’ (Poor girl), and because she was seen as ‘simple.’ Supposedly when she was in her early twenties, she had the mental capacities or a naive thirteen year old/ writing level of an eight year old. They kept basically shoving her into boarding schools to try to push her forward in terms of education, but obviously when she most likely had something like a severe case of autism, there weren’t exactly many programs that directly addressed those who were learning disabled, and being a Kennedy, they most likely were like PUSH HER THROUGH IT AND SHE’LL BE FINE (Great, thanks guys).

All this being said, there is proof in terms of letters that basically everyone was afraid, because once she became a teenager, she started running away from these schools or sneaking out late at night, and they were literally worried because of how ‘naive’ she was, that she’d end up getting pregnant by some weirdo guy forcing himself on her/ convincing her to have sex. What most normal people/historians think now, is that she saw her brother being John F. Kennedy, El Primo Playboy of the World 1941, dating movie stars and having a buttload of friends (As my older brother used to say), and she obviously wanted to be involved in this glamorous, fun life with the rest of her family, rather than shoved away at some crappy boarding school with nuns the age of time immemorial (Understandable). (Also, for what it’s worth, JFK basically WAS a great older brother, for what I’ve heard, and wanted his parents to loosen up on her. He involved her in his social groups if she was around and never pushed her into anything that someone with her ‘limitations’ might be hurt by).

So of course the natural thing would be to do is to give her a lobotomy so she doesn’t run away, and of course, it had some horrific side effects and basically killed her personality entirely from all accounts, making her basically a human vegetable with only a shadow of the person she’d been before. After that Joe ‘I’m the Worst’ Kennedy carted his daughter off, and debatably, depending on who you ask, she was basically ignored by most of the family for 60+ years of her living in a care home, or embraced in private (The Kennedy message/propaganda/nice try guys). There’s really only consistent public photos of Ted Kennedy visiting her, because besides the whole ‘I accidentally murdered a woman I was having an affair with’ thing, Ted was the baby and seemed actually like ironically the most ‘Christian’ in the most broadest sense of the word besides Bobby Kennedy (Yes, I know they’re Catholic, it’s an analogy).

So bringing this back to this awful book, the ‘mystery’ on the cruise liner shit basically seemingly revolves around Rosemary pre-lobotomy and how she wants to get married to a ‘coloured jazz man.’ BUT THIS NEVER FACTORS INTO THE PLOT. NONE OF THE HISTORICAL FIGURES ABOARD DO EVEN THOUGH THEY HAVE ‘POV’ CHAPTERS ASIDE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS.

You heard me right. xD I KNOW IT’S THE 1940S IN THE BOOKS AND THERE’S FAR WORSE THAT COULD HAVE BEEN DONE AND THE JAZZ MAN IS NICE AND ALL BUT DAMN IT’S SORT OF THE WORST, BECAUSE THEY BASICALLY MAKE THIS THE ENTIRE REASON FOR HER LOBOTOMY AND WHILE THEORETICALLY IT WOULD FIT IN WITH JOE’S MOTIVATIONS HISTORICALLY, IT JUST CAME OFF AS SUPER SKEEZY AND UGH. Mostly the book A) Actually did a considerable job giving Rosemary a sweet and loving personality that you like, but considering what you know if you’re probably reading this book and how they’re just dropping bread crumbs the entire way through, it’s just incredibly morbid and bleh.

If you’re going to write historical characters and fiction well, at least have something more to back it up than ‘Racism was more (outwardly) prevalent back then so she was going to be in an interracial relationship so lobotomy.” It just came off as conflating two important issues (The rights of the learning disabled to date and have families of their own, and interracial romances versus status in society), and just came out to justify it for a lobotomy we never even see. (Trust me, I’m making it sound far more interesting than it is).

Plus the mystery on the liner is the main aspect of the story, and I think that’s what makes it the worst: This author just chose to have these random historical figures on BECAUSE, and considering Rosemary’s background and what we know happened to her, it just seemed like a pretty desperate ploy to reel people in (like myself), and have them go, “Wait, this is just a sub-par mystery book, not a historical mystery book: She used that whole actual living person who existed and who was screwed over by her own family as ‘shock value’ and a ‘hook’ for the audience.” Double EW.

7. what was the last book that made you cry?

Indian Horse by Richard Wagamese, who is unfortunately no longer with us but a BEACON of Canadian Literature, and I'm SO sad he didn’t get to write more books, because his writing style is BEAUTIFUL and poetic.

“Saul Indian Horse is an alcoholic Ojibway man who finds himself the reluctant resident of an alcohol treatment centre after his latest binge. To come to peace with himself, he must tell his story. Richard Wagamese takes readers on the often difficult journey through Saul's life, from his painful forced separation from his family and land when he's sent to a residential school to the brief salvation he finds in playing hockey. The novel is an unflinching portrayal of the harsh reality of life in 1960s Canada, where racism reigns and Saul's spirit is destroyed by the alienating effects of cultural displacement.”

What you also don’t get about the book from this review, is the role hockey plays as being central to the narrative. In that moment, and when Saul is young, inside his own head, he is just what we as the reader see him as: A young boy who loves a sport and finds it freeing. A PERSON. A kid who loves hockey.

He’s so good that he has a chance to make it to the NHL. He’s good enough to play on the ‘white teams,’ but when he starts beating white players, grown men and women throw things at him, like plastic ‘Indians’ from a ‘Cowboy and Indian’ set.

He is a skilled player. He has raw talent. But to make it to the next level, and because they won’t let him be on the team in any other role, because a Native man can’t become a skilled star in 1960s Canada, he has to become a ‘goon.’ There’s actually a moment in the book where he snaps, and it’s so well written and heartbreaking, where it’s like this Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde dynamic inside of him, where he literally just goes, “Okay? You want me to be a bloodthirsty ‘Indian’? Then I’ll be that for you.”

There’s also a movie I haven’t had the guts to watch all the way through, because I tried watching it on a plane ride from Australia to Canada without actually having read the book first, and having no idea what the movie was about aside from hockey and Indigenous culture, and Jesus Christ IT KILLED ME. I’m terrible at flying, had been throwing up and thoroughly miserable for about three hours at that point on the plane, tried to turn on a movie to distract myself, and within ten minutes, I was like “No, I think sticking to the vomiting is justified.” (To give you an idea of the directing style, it’s bizarrely produced by uber-Republican yet ‘weirdly-obsessed with Indigenous people’ movie star Clint Eastwood. If you’ve seen his other films and how sparse and depressing they can be, you can only IMAGINE what this material lends itself to. So I’d really stick to reading the book first. Because Wagamese’s voice is so much stronger within the book, and the pain and horror poor Saul is exposed to serves a purpose within the larger narrative much more clearly, and even when he is an alcoholic, he still is able to find hope within himself and returning to his people, and that’s a beautiful thing that I think was lost in the portions of the film I was able to catch.) Check it out: It was only written in 2012, but it’s already being heralded as a ‘classic’ in Canadian Indigenous Literature.

9. do you actually check out books that have been recommended for you?

I do. I might not actually READ them, but I’ll at least check out a snippet on Amazon to see if it’s my cup of tea. So if anyone has any recommendations, go right on ahead <3

15. how do you feel about reading buddies?

I would love a reading buddy! <3 Feel free to message me if you’re keen. <3

18. what was your favourite book when you were 10?

Probably something by Roald Dahl or The Hobbit, if we’re talking sheer escapism or enjoyment (Or the original run of Harry Potter). My Dad is an English teacher, so I was always reading older books than were probably age-appropriate (I was placed at a college-reading level at twelve on an assessment test), so other than that, a lot of classic literature: Just name it, I’ve probably read it.

I also was a nerd who decided to read the entire dictionary back to front somewhere around this time and copy down all the words I actually didn’t know on a list, so that was a hobby. xD I guess I could count that as a ‘favourite book.’ (-Insert Homer Simpson “NEEeeeRRRddddd” gif here-).

#asteriah #sorry this took too long bb! <3 #answers #personal #literature

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that-vegan-thing-blog · 5 years

Text

Negativity

I have felt so amazing since I started my vegan diet. I am in the second week and already I have notice a HUGE increase in not only my energy, but my state of mind.

I’ve briefly mentioned prior to this post that I was suffering with my mental health prior to going vegan, and I’d like to expand on that a little.

I have suffered from depression for as long as I can remember. Some of it may be circumstantial, as I have suffered a significant amount of trauma in my life, and part may just be the way my brain works. People have always described me as an “emotional” person because my entire life I have suffered through one overwhelming emotion after another, with what seemed like no control over how I reacted to it. I never thought my overwhelming emotions were a symptom of my depression, I thought it was just the way I was. Maybe it was residual damage from my traumas, maybe it was a weakness in my make-up, either way, I did not think of it as depression. I thought of my depression as the grey cloud that would sometimes come and hang over me, when I felt sad for days at a time for no real reason, and no matter what I did I couldn’t shake it. I never wanted to take medication, because I would think the side effects of medication would be worse than just feeling sad for a few days here and there.

Last year, I was diagnosed with cluster headaches. I have suffered from random, unbearable headaches for as long as I can remember. I wake up in the middle of the night feeling like someone is driving a screw driver into my temple and out the back of my skull, and this will last for weeks to months at a time. I never know when it will happen, or how long it will last.

Receiving the official diagnosis was both relieving and terrifying. Finally knowing what I have was a relief, but there is no cure for cluster headaches, and the idea of having a metaphorical sword hanging over my head for the rest of my life set off a terrible episode of anxiety and depression. It was a few months after this diagnosis that I finally went to my doctor and asked for medication.

I have been on the medication for almost a year, and honestly, I don’t recognize myself. My emotions no longer overwhelm me, I no longer react to experiences and situations the way that I used to. This is not to say that I do not feel, because I certainly do, they are just so much less intense than they used to be. I no longer feel like I am a victim of my emotions and that I have control over my mind in a way I never did before. I did notice a difference in what I always thought of as my depression as well. My episodes got farther and farther apart, and I noticed an overall sense of happiness that I had never felt before.

That is, until about 3 months ago. Out of nowhere my depression came back with a vengeance, and every single day became a struggle to get through. I would be sitting, snuggling with my kids watching a movie, and feel utterly miserable. I would ask myself what I had to feel so sad about, as my life is pretty amazing, and I couldn’t come up with anything. I made sure to exercise regularly, as exercise is a great anti-depressant, but nothing changed. For almost 3 months I felt like this, an I was starting to feel hopeless, like I had just had a temporary fix in my mental-health, but that it wouldn’t last.

And then I went vegan.

I changed my lifestyle to a whole food vegan diet a week and a half ago, and I have felt a million times better than I even did when I felt good on the medication. I not only feel happy, I have the energy to get things done, and I WANT to get them done. I feel like dancing all the time! Instead of feeling miserable and weighed down, I feel light and excited about life!

This is all in spite of the negativity I have been faced with. As soon as you say “vegan” people immediately have an opinion about it, and will try to talk you out of it. People close to me have made fun of me, they tell me how they could never do it, or how it’s unhealthy.

The reality is, my being vegan does not take away from anyone else. I have not forced my family to go vegan, although I do wish they would. This is a choice I have made for not only my health, but for my planet and my sense of morality. None of my friends have to be vegan just because I am, and I do not ask any of my friends or family to make me special food when we get together. Even when I was simply vegetarian I would tell my family, “Don’t make anything special for me, I will bring my own.” So the negativity and sarcasm I am faced with can be upsetting, especially with how good this lifestyle has made me feel.

The bottom line is I am going to continue to be vegan, despite the negativity and backlash that has come with it, because this lifestyle feeds my mind and my soul with positive energy, and I love it.

#vegan #clusterheadaches #depression #mentalhealth #positive mental attitude #stayingstrong happyhealthyliving

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lickstynine · 6 years

Text

Misadventures of Kit: Chapter Ten

written with @ocsickficsideblog

The next few days were bumpy; Kit wasn’t sure he’d have made it through without Alistair staying with him. He’d spent almost four hours talking to the mental health overseer he was assigned, answering questions and filling out paperwork, and every day since, he’d been required to write in his notebook for at least thirty minutes. While it helped to write about his feelings, the obligatory time limit was quite grating, and it was hard to focus with how lousy he felt. The high-calorie diet the doctor had put him on was miserable. He felt bloated and nauseous almost constantly, and even when his weight seemed to be going in the positive direction, the doctor still had things to fuss about.

Apparently, despite the healthy diet and vitamin supplements, Kit’s blood tests still didn’t look good. The doctor had sent in a hematologist, who discovered that he had a suspiciously low red blood cell count. They’d sent several vials of his blood out for testing that morning, leaving him feeling faint as well as queasy. The poor nurse was properly struggling to coax lunch into him. Kit had rejected a health shake, a fruit salad, and a bowl of pasta, and now they were arguing over a single slice of peanut butter toast.

“I don’t want it. I feel sick.”

“That’s because they took your blood, dear.” The nurse, bless her, was still being quite patient. “You’re going to feel poorly until your body can replenish it. Eating will help.”

“I already drank the juice the phlebotomist gave me.” Kit huffed, as if a single cup of juice were equivalent to a meal.

Alistair gently nudged Kit with his foot. He was sitting at the bottom of the bed, drawing, his hair tied up in a terribly messy topknot so he looked like a volcano spewing lava. “You can manage that one slice, Kit. They’ll put you on IVs again if you don’t.”

Kit cringed. After having so much blood drawn, the last thing he wanted was another needle jabbing him. At the same time, just the sight of food was making his stomach turn. Alistair’s words seemed to have more weight than the nurse’s - after a long moment of silence, Kit sighed and reached for the toast.

Alistair smiled at him, genuine pride shining in his eyes. “You’re doing so well with this, Kit…”

The older boy managed a weak smile. “I’m trying.” He mumbled, peeling the crusts off of his whole-wheat toast before taking a bite. It was painfully dry, but he’d been brought milk rather than water. He powered through several small bites before caving and picking up the glass. He sipped slowly, wishing it weren’t so creamy and thick. Alistair pulled a face too. He couldn’t imagine having to chug a glass of tepid milk, but he smoothed out his features whenever Kit glanced his way.

Now that Kit was eating, the nurse shuffled away, leaving him in peace to slowly and miserably peck away at his toast. Kit wasn’t sure what was worse - the cloying sweetness of the peanut butter, or the overwhelming richness of the milk. He ate about two-thirds of the toast before setting it aside with a grimace. Alistair let him get away with that, grinning. “Thanks, Kit.”

“I feel worse than when I got here.” Kit whined. “I'm convinced this peasant hospital is a scam.”

“It’s widespread free healthcare, Kit. Established by Enurin Bevan in 1949 to care for the masses. A good thing,” Alistair said, knowing it annoyed Kit when he parroted history facts like that.

“Well I'm not the masses and I hate it.”

“You are the masses. You eat and shit the same as I do.” He paused. “Well. Maybe you don’t eat. But they’re trying to remedy that.”

That actually made Kit snort, and he kicked Alistair lightly. “I'd like to think I do both with far more poise and composure than you.”

“How do you shit with poise and composure?”

“Not like you.” Kit grinned.

“I bet you’re always constipated with your diet. You can’t constipation-shit with poise.”

Kit scoffed. “You're disgusting.”

“You’re not saying no,” Alistair teased.

“I don't hold conversations about my bathroom habits.” Kit rolled his eyes.

“Hey, you’re lucky you can get out of bed. When I had appendicitis, for the first few days I had to use a bidet. Talk about humiliating! And when I’d burned my bloody arms I couldn’t even lift them, so I had some poor nurse in the bogs with me then too. You can’t take a shit in peace in these places.”

“First of all, bidets are not the abomination you make them out to be, and you only hate them because you haven’t gotten over the time your dumb arse mistook one for a drinking fountain.” Kit smirked.

Alistair scowled. “I was only five! Pammy used to tease me about that even years later.”

“Only because you still get so huffy. It’s hilarious.” Kit was chuckling now, unable to wipe the grin off his face.

“It’s not! I bet other kids have done it…”

“All the more reason for you to not be so flustered!” Kit pointed out.

“I suppose…” He sighed. “Still. Trust me to manage it.”

Kit nudged his shoulder. “Hey, don't actually get upset. I did plenty of stupid shit when I was younger. You probably remember more of it than I do.”

“I wasn’t getting upset, don’t worry. Just thinking…”

“About what?”

“Before. It would have been fine if Auntie and Pammy had been able to stick around, wouldn’t it?”

Kit went quiet, the cheerful smile melting off his face. “Maybe…”

“Sorry,” Alistair said wretchedly. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” He yanked his hair out of its ponytail, pulling a face as he shook it back over his shoulders. He’d been by Kit’s side almost all the time - he usually only had a quick wash in the sink in the morning, and he had only washed his hair once since the day Kit was admitted.

The sight of his cousin’s disastrously greasy hair made Kit cringe. “Lord, you can take a proper shower, you know. I feel lousy, I don’t have the energy to run off and do anything stupid.”

“Why? Do I disgust you?” Alistair grinned.

“Disgust is a strong… accurate word.”

Alistair snorted. “Can I shower here? They have a chair in there. It’s fucking luxury.”

Kit laughed. “That’s luxury to you?”

“I get to sit on my arse, so yes. Never do anything standing that you can do laying down. You ever tried to have sex standing up? It’s fucking exhausting. Your legs ache.”

Kit shrugged. “Sometimes the person is worth it. Besides, you get to lie down after.”

“You say that like I’m not just banging one boy.”

“That sounds like a you problem.” Kit grinned. “Or really, more of Julie’s problem.”

“Oh, ha ha. He’s never complained. Just for that I’m not going to wash my hair.”

Kit sighed dramatically. “Why do you hate me?”

Alistair grinned, swinging his legs off the bed anyway. “You want anything before I go?”

“Do we have any more ginger ale?”

“Yes.” Alistair fumbled in the bedside cupboard, opening the bottle for Kit out of habit. The older boy accepted it without complaint, taking a sip and waving as Alistair gathered his clothes to go shower.

“Enjoy your luxurious shower chair.”

“I will. Stay alive, you. Gingers don’t give up,” Alistair said, pulling a face to show he was joking, then disappearing into the bathroom. Kit rolled his eyes, glancing down at his soda and wondering if it was still cannibalism to drink your own kind.

The bathroom door locked, and before long, the steady sound of running water lulled Kit into a half-sleep. He was curled up in his blankets, staring drowsily into the middle distance when a familiar voice in the hallway made his blood run cold.

“Out of my way! Don’t you know who I am? I don’t care, let me in right now!”

Kit sat up with a start, instinctively drawing the covers closer around himself. The door slammed open, and he scooted as far away as he could, pressing against the safety bars on the bed. The massive shadow more than enveloped him, and Kit retreated deeper into his blankets, wishing they could swallow him up.

“Look at you. Clinging to cheap blankets in some rickety peasant bed. How far have you fallen?” Reggie sneered.

“I… I didn’t fall…” Kit mumbled, staring down at the sheets as his father’s gaze bore into him. “It was just the nearest hospital.”

“That you shouldn’t have fucking needed!” Reginald spat. “What were you thinking? Trying to snuff out my bloodline with one cowardly swoop! You’re bloody lucky I’ve not got another heir. If I did, I’d disown you for this. You could stay in this filthy peasant hospital with your filthy peasant cousin and stop being my problem.”

Kit didn’t know what to say; he was just grateful they were in a public place, where the worst Reggie could do was yell. When his father continued to glare at him expectantly, he mustered up a weak. “Sorry…”

“You’d best be fucking sorry!” Reggie’s eyes burned with an uncanny flame, made almost as orange as his hair by the cheap incandescent light. His powerful fist latched onto Kit’s shoulder, pulling the smaller boy close. “If you ever try something this stupid again, you’d best finish the job, or I’ll do it for you.”

Kit’s heart was beating so quickly it felt like it might burst. It took every ounce of courage left in him to nod. He couldn't have spoken if his life depended on it. Luckily, that was enough confirmation for Reggie to drop him back on the flimsy mattress.

“You’d best not bring another peasant faggot home this time.” The older man straightened up, stomping off towards the door again.

Alistair had cut his shower short, having heard the commotion. He hadn’t been able to make out the words, and hadn’t recognised Reggie’s voice; he’d just wanted to have a snoop and watch whoever was kicking off. He looked horrified as he came out of the shower just as Reggie turned to go. He ran to Kit at once, his face flaming red with rage, his wet hair tangled. “Oi! What the fuck are you doing here, you asshole?”

Reginald spun around, scrunching his nose at his soggy, disheveled nephew. “Did I interrupt your mud bath?”

Alistair took in the state of Kit now, his eyes flashing. “What did you do to him? He was getting better, starting to smile again. Why’d you have to come in here and ruin everything? Why can’t you you all get lost and leave us in peace?”

“I'm ruining things?” Reggie snorted. “How do you think your mother and I feel, knowing our noble bloodline has dwindled to almost nothing, thanks to you faggots?”

“Oh yeah? Well, at least us “faggots” can actually get it up. I found viagra in your medicine cabinet, you dirty bastard!”

If Kit hadn't been on the verge of a panic attack, he would've laughed. A weak smile cracked his face, but it vanished when Reggie turned to scowl at him.

“What're you smirking at, ingrate?”

“No… nothing, sir…” Kit ducked his head, quickly withering under his father's flaming glare.

“Leave him alone!” Alistair cried. “If you’ve nothing kind to say to your own bloody son, then get your insensitive arse out of here before I kick it out.” He stood firmly in front of his uncle, barely reaching up to his chest.

Reginald smirked. “I'd love to see you try.”

“Al, don't…” Kit was looking at his cousin with pleading, fearful eyes.

Alistair looked back at Kit - and for once it seemed to break through the fury. He saw Kit’s face, white with fear, shaking like a wet kitten. Alistair moved away from Reggie, going to wrap his arms around Kit. The older man sneered.

“You faggots have fun cuddling. I'm leaving before the poverty starts to rub off.” Reggie walked out the door before Alistair could snap back again.

“Asshole,” Alistair growled, then turned his attention to Kit. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

Kit shook his head, sniffling and sinking down in his blanket nest. Alistair climbed into bed with him. “What did he say?”

Kit didn't answer, just leaning on Alistair for support. He was eyeing the door warily, like he thought Reggie might still come back. Alistair held Kit in his arms tight. “I’m sorry… I didn’t realise it was him. He’s got a cheek, coming here.”

Kit shrugged. As unpleasant as his father's visit had been, he wasn't surprised. He was shaken, though, and it took a while for him to find his voice again.

“He… he said… if I ever tried something this… this stupid again, I'd better finish the job, or he… or he'll finish it for me.”

“He said what? That bastard!”

Kit flinched, though he knew his cousin was angry for him, not at him. He just nodded, once again at a loss for words. Alistair tried to swallow his fury, gripping Kit’s face in his hands. “We won’t let him do that.”

“Promise?” Kit looked desperately up at Alistair, fear shining in his eyes. Though they were the same colour as Reggie's, there was no fire in them.

Alistair nodded fervently. “I promise. I’ll never let that happen.”

Kit latched tightly onto him. “I hate it here. I want to go home. Your home.”

Alistair nodded. “They’re sending you home soon, I know it. They’ve been giving me all these leaflets and notes about how to care for you.”

“We still haven't heard back from the hematologist. Shouldn't they have gotten the lab results by now?” Kit fussed.

“Don’t ask me. I was rubbish at science, I just drew the whole lesson. Sometimes it takes a week or more, I think.”

Kit sighed. “So will they like, call when they get the results, or make me come back in, or what?”

“They call you to come in if there’s something wrong.”

“But do they call either way?”

“Yes,” Alistair said, laughing.

Kit's cheeks went pink with embarrassment. “I don't know! I've never used commoner healthcare before!”

“Stop calling it that! This is a very rare and good thing, to have public healthcare.”

“How am I supposed to differentiate it from my regular healthcare then?” Kit asked.

“This one is free,” Alistair declared. “You don’t get upgrades or a big fat bill at the end.”

“I'd rather pay and get the upgrades…” Kit mumbled.

Alistair snorted. “I know you would.”

“You're so mean to me.” Kit declared dramatically.

Alistair laughed. “Oh yeah, I’m awful.”

“The worst.” Kit was smiling even as he said it, stretching out across Alistair's lap. He gently nudged his cousin's shoulder, hoping Alistair would lay down.

Alistair giggled at him again, slumping back obediently. “You can ask me to lie down, you know.”

“I don't want to bother you…” Kit mumbled, resting his head on Alistair's chest. “just… if you don't mind.”

“I obviously don’t mind. I want you to be as comfortable as possible.”

Kit nodded, snuggling up closer. “You're warm. And your heartbeat is soothing.”

“That’s why you put babies on your chest. They find it soothing, like being back in the womb. No idea what Mother’s heartbeat sounded like. I can’t imagine it being soothing. Maybe it was the Jaws theme tune.”

Kit snorted. “I wouldn't be surprised. Father's is probably a war drum.”

“Yuck, imagine curling up on his chest.”

Kit cringed and shook his head. “No.”

“It’d be like that scene in Totoro. Where it opens its mouth and yawns and almost swallows that little girl,” Alistair giggled. He remembered long ago Totoro games with Kit, when he’d stand trying to make shoots grow or collecting acorns or searching for soot sprites.

Kit just shook his head, trying to think more about the Totoro games and less about being so uncomfortably close to his father.

“Do you remember all our games?” Alistair whispered. “When I was sent off to that awful boarding school at seven, I’d be excited for weeks about seeing you every holiday.”

“You would?” Kit seemed surprised.

“Of course I would! What else did I have to look forward to?”

Kit shrugged. “I don't know. I just didn't feel like I was that much fun. I was never as energetic as you, or as imaginative…”

“Oh, I was only so in my own head back then because nobody else paid any attention to me. You were just as imaginative.”

“I think you've always been more creative than me. I like that about you, though.” Kit murmured.

“You do?” Alistair seemed surprised. “Nobody ever said that…”

Kit nodded. “I never knew where to explore, or what games to play. I probably never would've left my room as a kid if it weren't for you.”

“Pammy said we complimented each other. I got you outside, you stopped me wandering into an animal trap or something.”

Kit laughed. “I don't think you were ever quite that bad. No, I take it back. I forgot about the frozen pond.”

Alistair grinned. “We had fun while it lasted.”

“You had fun.” Kit rolled his eyes, smiling and snuggling up to his cousin.

“You liked skating when it was at the proper rink. Remember how we’d go?”

“Barely. It's been ages. Tell me about it?” Kit begged.

“Sometimes Auntie took us, and then Pammy when we were older. Remember, she could barely move a centimetre without falling? She had to use those little props for the tiny kids to hang on to. But we could both go out and skate together. You were the one who could do it all properly, I just tore along and bashed into things - but at the end you’d take my hand and we’d skate together, and you’d steer me in and out of the crowds so it was like I was doing it properly too…”

Alistair trailed off, actually shivering. He’d been so far off in his memories that he’d felt the artificial cold of the rink, heard the chink of skates on hard ice, felt the wind blow his hair back as he went gliding fast, Kit deftly dragging him out of the path of the public.

Kit closed his eyes with a wistful sigh. “You should draw that…” he mumbled thoughtfully.

“Yeah… Now I really want to.”

“You can move me if you want.” Kit offered.

“No no, I’ll do it when we get home. I want my pastels.”

Kit nodded, secretly grateful that he got to stay put. He snuggled up closer, yawning and wrapping his arms around Alistair. The younger boy ran his hands through Kit’s hair, hoping to soothe him to sleep. It worked quite well, and only minutes later, Kit was snoring away. Alistair was awake longer - though Kit was skinny, he was still a grown man, and it was hard to get comfortable with him lying on top of Alistair - but he eventually fell asleep too.

#misadventures of Kit #nanowrimo #chapter ten #collab #ocsickficsideblog #kit #raycraft #reggie #alistair #julius #tw homophobia #angst #drama of the big gay

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sagegothel · 6 years

Text

SCISSOR SISTERS → STI

TAGGING → Izzie Bash (@izziebash), Tia La Bouff (@tiaisms) & Sage Gothel

TIMELINE → October 5th, 2018

SETTING → Walt U Homecoming Football Game

SUMMARY → After Sage tweets something weird and disappears in the middle of hte game, Tia and Izzie take it upon themselves to go find her.

Izzie cheered for the football game before her to get her mind off of what was troubling her. The halftime performance was only like, fifteen minutes away and Sage was nowhere to be found. She had been there once, but then she ran off and hadn't come back. Maybe she'd wandered off and fell in a well, or got insecure about Wayland and ran off to torment Meadow some more, or something else dumb. But this was the homecoming game. One of their biggest performances of the year! Why would she miss it? Then Izzie thought about what Meadow had told her, and how down Sage had been feeling, and while she wanted to be a good friend to Meadow, she couldn't help but feel a little bad for Sage. She just hoped she was alright. Izzie walked off to get some water at a nearby cooler and checked her phone for a moment, scrolling through Twitter. Out of curiosity, she searched up @sizzlingsage and quickly unblocked her, relieved that she hadn't been blocked back so she could see her posts, only to be shocked by what she found. The most recent one read "time to go bye bye" with a cryptic scissor emoji. Izzie furrowed her brow, trying to wrack her brain for what that could possibly mean. Sage wasn't the smartest, but her twitter was never so bleak. There was no going back now, Izzie was in full worry-mode. Spotting Tia nearby, Izzie accosted her with the tweet on her screen facing out to her. "Look, I know we hate each other now, and the feeling is definitely mutual, but look at this. Do you know anything about this?" she asked Tia, handing her her phone.

Tia was busy minding her own business stretching out her hamstrings as she prepared herself mentally for Halftime when Izzie came running up to her with a phone in her hand. Tia read the screen for a moment before glancing at Izzie in confusion. "Does she mean she's going to have sex with girls now? Cuz last I checked she and your cousin are still disgusting. But what else could it mean?" She asked, looking back at the phone just as it buzzed with an incoming text message. Tia couldn't help but read the message in the notification bar since it could possibly be clarification from Sage herself, and then immediately blushed when it turned out to be from someone else entirely. "By the way L'ogan really likes your cheer skirt." She giggled, handing her ex-bestie her phone back.

Izzie felt her cheeks go red as Tia recited L'ogan's text to her and snatched her phone back. "No, no one comes out like that. Not even Sage is that dense," Izzie rolled her eyes before exhaling and running a hand through her hair. "I don't know, I just have like...a really bad gut feeling. Vivi-- Meadow," she was quick to correct herself, " -- told me that Sage had been really sad and insecure and annoying lately about her and Wayland, and I dunno, you have Wes and Charlie and the @ pack and I have my new roommates, but I don't know who Sage has been hanging out with. You live with her. Does she seem any different? Lonelier or something?" She didn't want to outright say what she was worried the tweet might mean, and hoped Tia might fill in the blanks without her having to.

Tia shrugged and started to go back to stretching. "I dunno, Charlie came out by having sex with a bunch of people and that's kind of on brand for Sage. As Izzie continued talking, Tia slowly started to understand what she was trying to say. Tia finally stopped worrying about the halftime performance and started thinking hard about Sage's recent behavior. "Gosh, I don't know either. I haven't been paying that much attention to her when i'm not...um keeping her out of my parties. You don't think she's cutting herself like that girl from Netflix, right?" She asked, practically whispering her question in terror as her face paled at the thought.

Izzie cocked a brow, considering that for a second. "Charlie's queer?" she frowned contemplatively, wondering how her gaydar could have been so off about the younger La Bouff. But then she snapped herself out of that, and started focusing on the actual topic here: Sage. "Yeah, Lux told me about your brilliant little plan at that party. You locked her in her own room in her own cottage? How mean." She wasn't really mad at Tia for it, and her tone showed. Tia could do worse. She was moreso thinking like Sage in that situation, and how terrible that must have made her feel. "And I've been calling her stupid to Meadow behind her back...That's not like, mean in person, but it puts out negative energy that I'm sure she had to feel." Izzie gnawed on her bottom lip as Tia voiced exactly what she'd been thinking. "I don't know, maybe? She wouldn't do something like that, do you think? She's not..." Izzie shrugged vaguely, not knowing how to finish that sentence. Instead, she jumped to her next idea. "We need to find her. Like, now. She tweeted this almost ten minutes ago, we could be too late already."

Tia blinked. "No? She's bi." She replied, wondering where in the talk of bi did she get the word queer. "Why's he snitching to you? Sage was mean first and I was mean better." She replied, crossing her arms over her chest a little petulantly before immediately dropping them since now wasn't the time to defend herself. "I don't know what'd she do. On one hand she doesn't seem that Hannah Bakery. But on the other, if Wayland was my only friend i'd go bye bye too." Tia frowned even more when Izzie said they might already bee too late and felt tears quickly begin to well up in her eyes. "Where would she go then? If she walked back to our cottage we could run and try to catch up with her. Would that work?"

Izzie huffed some air out through her cheeks with a roll of the eyes, not exactly in the mood to explain LGBTQ+ labels to Tia, or be offended at the joke she made at her cousin’s expense. She didn’t even want to explain that the only reason Tia thought Sage had been mean first was because she had been standing up for her. This wasn’t the time to fight. It was the time to find Sage. Izzie caught her bottom lip between her teeth, and gave a shrug. She really had no clue. “I don’t know. I mean, I guess we could try? That seems like our best bet,” she nodded, suddenly remembering how that Netflix season ended and got a little queasy. “Come on,” Izzie started for the nearest exit in a light jog so as to not draw too much attention to the two cheerleaders who were ditching the game right before halftime. Just as they passed the bathroom closest to the WU gym, Izzie heard a scream. She sent Tia a worried glance, but didn’t hesitate to barge in.

Sage was so sick of feeling sad and heavy and gross all of the time. She'd tried everything that normally worked to make her feel better already - her super rad diet, cuddling with Wayland, wearing purple, making up new dances - but all of her old tricks seemed to be failing. It seemed that nothing cheered a person up when they suddenly had no friends, and it felt like every time she tried to make a new one, she got shut down. Lux was nice to her, but he had his little demon girlfriend who like, death glared Sage whenever possible. She would have tried to make Freddie be her friend, but Izzie like, beat her to it. She'd even thought maybe Wayland's best friend would be nice to her if she was like, trying to find her a boyfriend too, but apparently being nicer than usual just made people hate Sage more. She wasn't the smart one like Izzie, she wasn't the rich boss-lady one like Tia, and she must not even be the pretty one anymore because nobody seemed to want to be around. Did that make Sage the nothing one? Being the nothing one was sad. Sage had started thinking more and more about just leaving Walt and going back home to her mom. At least Mother Gothel loved her and would never abandon her - she'd been sending her more and more notes inviting her to come back after she'd peaced out during the summer on the worst trip ever, and Sage was mega close to just doing it. She had to try one more thing first, though. A haircut had like, turned Kori's whole life around, even making her little sibling a hottie homecoming queen candidate. And it had made Kori nice to her for the first time ever. So when even cheering at the homecoming game wasn't making Sage happy anymore - the opposite, really; she'd left the field because she'd started to feel her eyes pricking with tears, seeing Izzie and Tia's big smiles and how much they didn't need her and maybe never had - she decided to go ahead and just follow Kori's lead. Maybe a magic hair cut would solve all of her problems, and if it didn't... Well, then maybe more than Sage's hair could go bye bye. She'd tell Wayland she loved him and like, thanks for being the only one who still cared, but that he could be with someone smarter and prettier like Meadow now too and she'd just go back to her tower and leave everyone alone. Sage ran her fingers through her long, dark hair one last time, loving the silky smooth feel of it. Then the used one hand to hold it out to the side, as straight as she could, as she raised the scissors she'd brought to the bathroom with her other hand and snipped. It took a minute for Sage to process what she was seeing in the mirror. The messed up make up and tear streaked face were nothing new, but she let the clump of short hair fall back to her head as she clutched inches and inches of detached hair in her fist, and blinked in horror before letting out a blood-curdling scream.

Tia glanced at Izzie at the exact same time as she glanced at her and burst into the bathroom with her. Immediately she felt relief at seeing Sage clearly not dead and then let out a bloodcurdling scream as she realized what was happening with Sage's head. Other than purple, long mermaid like hair was major Sage iconography. "What happened to your head!?" She screeched, running over like Sage really did have a razor blade jammed in her wrist and threw the scissors across the room before surveying the hair damage up close.

Izzie didn’t know exactly what she was looking at when she came into the bathroom. It wasn’t until she saw the clumps of hair detached from Sage’s body did she bring the palm of her hand to her mouth with a gasp. She followed behind Tia, coming up on Sage with a more calm demeanor — she didn’t want to scare her when she was clearly already disturbed. “What Tia means to say is....Why are you cutting your hair and why are you doing it in a bathroom at a football game? Rapunzel’s like, totally has a homecoming discount right now.” She took Sage’s chopped ends into her hands and fluffed them out to survey the damage. She was glad that Sage seemed to be okay, but then remembered that that girl from the show had also cut her hair. It was one of those things that people sometimes did when they wanted to feel something. “Are you....okay?” Izzie asked tenderly, combing her fingers through Sage’s longer strands.

Sage didn't know how long she screamed for before Izzie and Tia barged into the bathroom. It could have been five seconds or it could have been five years; time felt all blurry and weird to Sage, and she was pretty sure she had to be hallucinating now anyway. Tia and Izzie would never have come to search for her, especially not together, and Sage sniffled, the tears starting again as she realized how sad that made her. The two girls were the best thing that had ever happened to her, and she apparently missed them so much that she was seeing them where they couldn't possibly be. Except the scissors skittering across the floor sounded real, and the feel of Izzie's fingers felt real, too. And when she looked in the mirror they were actually in the reflection with her, too, and Sage took a minute to stop her chest from heaving with quiet sobs before she said anything. "No," she wailed, calm enough to talk but still not as calm as she would have liked to have been. "I look like weirdo punk rock Avril Lavigne got hit by a weed whacker or something!" she said, looking at her hair in horror before looking at the two of them. She didn't know if she was really supposed to answer Izzie's other questions; they might be here now, but if she said she wasn't okay because she missed them, she risked them telling her that they didn't miss her at all. Maybe they were only here because they needed to pee or because she was messing up the homecoming cheer routine, and she bit on her lip. "I don't know, a hair cut made Kori way more likeable, I thought I could like... try it or something," she replied, blinking her eyes until they felt dryer. "And Rapunzel's is still expensive, so like... sorry?" she trailed off lamely.

Tia felt terrible watching Sage cry like that, especially with most of her hair gone, she felt like she was watching the most surreal and terrible production of Les Mis ever. She wanted to hug her so bad that it only took half a second of wondering if that was appropriate before she actually did it. "You totally look worse than that, oh my god." Tia said, crying into Sage's shoulder before sobbing even harder because it had been so long since the last time they had hugged last and Sage was usually her favorite shoulder to cry on so there was like a weird Pavlovian effect happening there too. "You didn't have to wreck your head to be more likable, you're so great. And also please don't kill youself because your hair is bad and you don't have friends because I locked you in your room. You're like the best person ever and I'm sorry that you didn't feel like it enough to risk ruining your hair like this. It's all me and Izzie's fault!" She ramble wailed at Sage, lacking every bit of the ability Sage had at eventually composing herself. So Tia was still crying like a crazy person when she pulled away from hugging Sage to look at her hair again. "I think I could probably even it out to look cute enough until we can book you an appointment at Rapunzel's. Would that be okay?"

Izzie caught her bottom lip between her teeth, biting back tears as she watched Sage sob and heard Tia totally not help that fact as she sobbed too. "No, you look fine! It's just shorter, and hair always grows back, and me and T have had bobs and they're super cute!" she tried. But then Tia went on her big mess of a ramble, and Izzie's quivering lower lip finally gave way to tears, too. "It's so our fault. I should never have told you about ViviMeadow and Wayland. It was so mean and dumb and Wayland totally has so many reasons to like you better, because you're amazing." What she'd said to Sage that day in Tennessee had haunted her for months, she was so glad to get it off of her chest that she didn't really think Wayland had no reasons to like her. She leaned her head on Sage's other shoulder and sobbed, letting it finally hit her how much she missed being with the two of them. She hadn't smelled the combination of all three of their perfumes in so long, when she inhaled the realization only made her cry harder. Pulling away, she nodded frantically in agreement with Tia. "Yeah! This could be like, a lob! Those look good on everyone," Izzie sniffled, tucking a few strands behind Sage's ear before looking at the three of them -- three sobbing messes -- in the mirror. She picked up the scissors and handed them to Tia, not knowing how to voice what she wanted so badly to say. "I'm so glad we found you," she gave Sage's shoulders a squeeze. "I um....kind of really miss you guys. Like, what happened in Tennessee still hurts when I think about it, but feeling like we're never going to be friends again hurts even more."

Sage 's mouth parted slightly in confusion when Tia told her not to kill herself, of all things. She knew that her eating habits sometimes were so not a good idea and might like, end up with that happening to her, but she'd never tried to hurt herself like that on purpose. She was too happy that Tia and Izzie were here and crowding around her like they used to before to even care if that was the only reason they'd come looking, though. Sage wrapped her arms around both of them, not wanting to let them get too far away from her ever again. "I'm so not going anywhere now," she promised, tears streaming down her cheeks again. This time they were happy ones, though; she'd never felt as much relief as she felt knowing that they didn't still hate her after all, and that maybe things were actually going to be okay. "I was like, thinking about just leaving Walt forever and going back to my tower or something, if I was going to be locked in places anyway, but I like it here so, so much better. You know, with you guys," Sage said, her voice watery from all the crying. She probably looked like a raccoon now on top of the butt-ugly hair, but she could be the most hideous person in the whole universe right now and Sage thought maybe that would be okay as long as Tia and Izzie didn't leave. "Are you guys sure?" she asked them hopefully, not sure if she was asking about them fixing her hair or about whether they actually still loved her.

Tia tried wiping at her eyes and nodded in agreement with Izzie. "Yeah, it's so our fault. I should've never been so mean to you for standing up for Izzie or to Izzie for sleeping with Huntley when i was the one keeping secrets in the first place. You guys are the bestest best friends in the world and i'm so so sorry I made you both feel like you weren't." She cried, moving to hug Izzie too. She arguably owed Izzie way more than a teary apology and a one armed hug because she still wasn't ready to let go of Sage yet, but that was what she had right then and she hoped it would do for now. "Oh my gosh, I know I didn't act like it but I would've missed you so so much if you'd gone back to your tower. It was supes cray cray of me to lock you up like that and I can't even say i'm sorry enough for that but please be my friend again anyway?" Taking the scissors from, Izzie and stepped back a bit to get a better look at Sage's hair then went to comb all the way through it with her fingers before she began cutting. "I'm so sure. Your face will look so skinny and cute with a really good lob. After a while you'll forget you even had all that hair." Tia promised, glancing into the sink sadly.

Izzie probably would have jumped back into STI even if she hadn't gotten an official apology from Tia, but the fact that she did just made things so much better. It showed that her friends really missed her as much as she'd missed them. "I'm sorry for calling you a spoiled brat, you're just rich! That doesn't make you a bad person." Izzie gave a large squeeze when Tia reached across Sage and hugged her, too, blubbering mascara tears onto Sage's neck. Cheer makeup was so not made for crying sessions. "Never ever ever go back to your tower forever. You belong here, with us," Izzie said tenderly, clutching Sage's hand in her own as she watched Tia start to trim. "Yeah, and besides, hair always grows back. For now, this is just something fresh and new and exciting and it'll be great." So maybe she wasn't talking about Sage's haircut anymore, but Izzie loved a good metaphor.

Sage blinked her still watery eyes. Was she supposed to say it was her fault now, too? Both of them were blaming themselves, and she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat from crying. "I'm so sorry, I should have figured out a better way to be good friends to both of you guys instead of like, picking a side," she said finally. She had felt bad, seeing the look on Tia's face when she'd defended Izzie over her. Tia had always done so much to make her life better, and she'd acted like one friend was more important than the other. So not cool. "And I'm super sorry for getting mad at you about Vivdow or whatever her name is now," she added to Izzie. "It was super not fair, I know that like, you guys have known her longer and stuff." It was hard for her to get it, since she'd only had Baz and Kori growing up, but she was trying. She was going to try so, so hard to make sure nothing like this ever, ever happened again. "My tower's super lonely, I would have missed you guys so much. Even just like, seeing you guys at cheer practice when you weren't talking to me was the best part of my day," Sage admitted, holding her breath as Tia and Izzie fussed over her hair. The snip of the scissors almost made her flinch again, but this time she was in good hands -- Tia's instead of her own, and she let out a breath of relief when she noticed that all the same length, her hair didn't look nearly as chunky and stupid as it had when she'd only hacked off part of it. "You guys are my favorite people in the whole wide world," Sage told them, trying not to start crying again -- happy tears this time. She didn't want to jerk around and mess up her hair more, but she had a feeling even if she walked out of this bathroom the ugliest girl in Walt, it wouldn't matter to her as long as she had Tia and Izzie by her side.

#para #para:izzie #para:tia #tialabouff #izziebash #tia #izzie #para:scissorsisters

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witchysleepingbeauty · 3 years

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Hi princess! So imagine this lady who's always ALWAYS being negative abt her kids, never a kind word and only belittling, every other day, like "what did I do wrong really? What kind of kids have I raised? They're bla bla bla" with venom. And worst who doesnt acknowledge how negative + painful she is

When i try to talk to her nd ask her exactly whats the issue with 'me' or how can I help her to ease her burden as she keeps complaining how we're ungrateful or keeps comparing to other 'more acceptable in her eyes" children, she gets defensive nd won't answer properly. She says "ohhh, why don't U know that? arent u old enough to know?' and then starts ranting. when time after time ive begged her to clearly tell me, no passiv agressiveness please! it doesn't work nd i end up wondering why i even bother when im only the villain... Yes this ig is my role in her story that ive writen? confusing 😅

when I can, sometimes i try to help her even tho shes the sort who likes to stay busy so she'll find smth else to do lol, nd inside hope for her to be at least a little NOT negative today.... she either ignores or gets angrier nd goes all "hey, I didn't ask U to do that! How dare u act like u did me a favor! U think ur perfect while im just ur servant right?" when i never even intend that? i effing HATE negative reinforcement nd i feel so damn bad for her, nd shes taught me how negative reinforcement is the worst thing to use, cuz it never teaches anything only builds resentment!!

this is smth i realised that she cant be pleased, she wants to get attention what I mean is, whenever we spend time together, she is perfectly fine when we're talking abt her hobbies nd interests which tbh im NOT that interested in personally but since she likes them i like to discuss them with her nd help her out with projects. not to say "ohhh im so cool i help out with her projects look at me so kind of me! lol" its just it hurts when ur own mother doesn't even rpetend to care abt ur interests. i suspect deep down i carried this feeling of unworthiness ie if even my own mother doesn't care abt my hobbies/projects, no one will . which is why i feel so uncomfortable sharing anything personal to my rl friends cuz im so afraid theyll reject me too :(

By not caring i dont mean I expect her to listen nonstop to me. she has her own life but i mean she purposely zones out, rolls her eyes which HURT SM when i was a child, or even worst she says "im not interested" nd shuts the convo. again, at this point, idec anymore as ive learned slowly to value nd cherish my own value nd hobbies etc which is an important lesson anyway

the only thing i want is to stop her being so painfully negative LOUDLY. Yk I suspect becuz of her dwelling on whats wrong in her life, shes gotten severe numbness nd swelling in one arm? and even the doctors cant detect whats wrong! nd its hella painful nd she can't even lift it up sometimes!!!! THIS GOES ON TO SHOW HOW INNER CONSTANT NEGATIVITY CAN BE REFLECTED IN THE OUTER AKA OUR BODY!! To anyone else who cant help have negative thoughts ONLY, u gotta try to change them! Please! Bcuz my mother's pain in her arm is sometimes crazily too much! Nd this in turn, esp on days where all i hear is her gripe, its worse at night!

Anyway I was compeled to write this as a while ago i went to the kitchen for water nd from her room i heard her loudly complain nd mutter abt how her kids are "socially unacceptable" nd "dear god i pray please please don't let me rely on them in old age, i made a mistake raising them!" She's the sort whos got so many limiting beliefs that initially led to my deep unhappiness w/o knowng it was these beliefs at play eg if you dont become a certain career, youll have no security, or recently she keeps nd keeps lamenting abt not havjng 'enoufh money' (we r having kinda financial crisis due to some rlly terrible decisions by my other parent) or 'oh Im STUCK with this [bad word] family!" when she saw a movie abt someone who went on a trip nd began comparing her own life to it. She's so talented we all ask her to start an online business but she backs away nd says 'how will i ever get capital? im doomed to never have what i want' nd I myself have a bit empty wallet temporarily so i cant help her. Nyway, while im trying to fix my own beliefs, seeing her rage nd let negativity completly take over her is alarming nd worrying to me. it makes me feel negative emotions too. im not entirely confident in mastering my mind ywt. i was that overly sensitive kid at school nd i absorv her energy a lot. Those who u love the most, hurt u the most. nd i agree bcoz while im hurt by her (not that shes intentionally hurting me. THRU her im hurt), i do love her. Nd now thanks to the law ik by changing my beliefs abt things, i can change the world

My reason is i cant change her bcuz she gets hella maddened if i suggest a less negative thought. Nd she instead starts blaming me for my 'decisions in Life' which SHE would NEVERRR make oh no... -_- Nd im not saying i try to be obnoxious abt it hell no! im talking abt getting frustrated at the table talking abt smth abt a random topic, then suddenly listening to her start complaining abt e g. Some kid whos "richer" than i am heatedly! nd if i steer the convo away, nope, she keeps fuming a bit

so since i can only change myself, how the hell do i change my assumptions of her? i affirm having a great mother, happy nd open with her thriving business etc. i affirm this but i cant focus cuz doing so inevitbly makes me sad lol cuz i rmmbr how happy nd liveky she used to be before some unfortunate things in our family that started yrs ago. Which affected us all. Any advice, please? im on a mental diet hwoever the earlier incident of her complaining abt us again caused smth in me to snap. im distancing myself from her but the short times im with her there's only a strong air of disapproval, pain nd misery around her. Tbh i was like that pre-law, not knowing how destructiv my thoughts were, while she was the happy optimistic grateful one. Nd now? Im only slightly more self aware than before ie im NOT saying im able to rise in consiousness SOo much that im 'untouchable' nd buddha-like! Nor is my mom wrong bcuz she's me pushed out! its only her lvl of conciousness nd thats it. its just I don't want to cause or feel more pain or hav any excuse to curse her ,when ego sometimes takes over, anymore. im having some personal issues to take care of too, which is why this is affecting me too much. Sort of like having a weak immune system already?

I want my happy intelligent mom back. ik i got to change me... but the doing is way harder than the saying

🫀anon

Okay first of all imma say it cause I don’t think nobody else will…. Your mom is shitty…. There, I said it. She is abusive and selfish and a bad mom. No parent should ever treat their children that way and make them think they need to fix them.

Other than that yes it’s true she is your manifestation but I think it’s important to let emotions out. Be mad at her for once, stop rationalizing her bad behavior. You have the right to feel mad, angry, sad. YOUR FEELINGS ARE VALID.

I know it seems impossible to keep a mental diet when you see the negative behavior you wish to change every day. I assume you live in the same house. My suggestion is to stick to your mental diet and try to interact as little with her as possible. Go out more often or stay a bit more in your room. Every time you see a behavior from her that you don’t like, and you feel like affirming doesn’t help, close your eyes and see her hugging you and telling you all sorts of beautiful, loving things you’d like to hear from her.

You should also work on your self concept. Parental issues often manifest from poor self concept. Affirmations like “I am worthy, I am loved, I am enough, I am respected, I am cherished” work amazing.

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skipzujinskip · 4 years

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goals for july 2020

In order for me to be on a roll, and get usual indecisive and messy ass together. I am gonna just set some goals and try to be a better person than I was yesterday. Aye it’s never too late to start a new beginning and its never too late to start on these goals and work hard for the results. In a perfect time to occupy myself in a lot of things and keep myself busy due to the COVID-19 situation, it’s time to be properly committed.

JULY 2020 GOALS

Get my STUDYING ON A ROLL

NO MORE LEAVING SHIT LAST MINUTE!!!!! Being a Fashion Marketing Uni student is NO FUN AND GAMES! 😭There is a whole lotta madness and elements to it all and let me just say, I WAS NOT PREPARED THIS YEAR TO EXPECT ALL OF THIS. So far I am lucky this trimester after the first set of assignment, the weight of all the assignments are a lot lighter since the first of assignments were kinda hectic but you know, you gotta channel that inner phoenix rising from the fire. The current set of assignments are more group-based and more creative and fun:

Fashion Blog - The most creative yet challenging assignment for the Fashion Influencers class. I am still yet to decide what platform to really but this blog through, we already have a name though 🤪, ‘CrazySweetSavage’. I still need to decide what to post and what kind of direction I am heading with the blog. I just believe this fashion blog can be more than just an assignment for me, it can be something I can really air out my creativity without feeling any pressure. Instagram is great but I feel so iffy for some reason and I don’t know why. Maybe with this fashion blog it can get me outta my comfort zone and I can really gain more confidence in showing off my creativity cause I am still timid about it I guess?! 🤨

Marketing Plan - Aye, we just finished the first assignment for the Marketing class. I am yet to expect what there is to this but WE WILL BE ON A ROLL FOR THIS ASSIGNMENT. I swear on my knees I will slay it. 😊

Group Projects - The last two classes which are Critical Survey and Business Strategy and Design Thinking are both group efforts. I am happy to work with two of my closest friends in uni for both assignments but I am questioning if I am making enough effort 😔. In both assignments, we are exploring the topic of size inclusiveness and innovations we can come up with to meet problems of the topic.

Hopefully I CAN ALSO GET MY NOTES DONE! 🤬I have been slacking off it so we better get a move on. I got my whiteboard so I can organise what days and the time to do it all. Even with the second lockdown in Melbourne, I got less shifts at work and there is NO EXCUSE not to do it all. 😤

Getting my BODY ON A ROLL

I have been slacking off of Chloe Ting’s workouts after a while... Well 2 weeks and a half to be exact 😳! Ever since I lost my last pair of contact lenses I have not been able to do my workouts. I know, I know!! EXCUSES, EXCUSES. Really, I cannot workout when I am blind and I rely my workouts on my flatscreen with Chloe Ting on there. I should memorise the workouts after a while of doing them but I have a pint sized brain and memory 🙈.

Along with the absence of working out, my eating habits have become worse. It became Maccas, HSPs and a whole lotta pure junk. I also HAVEN’T BEEN DRINKING THAT MUCH WATER, which is UNBELIEVABLE 😑. Back then, I was eating good, I needed at least some veggies every meal along with a protein, and on mornings I would enjoy a nice warm sweet bowl of oatmeal, honey and sliced bananas 😔.

Here are the fitness/body/lifestyle(?) goals I need to keep up with in order to achieve my body goals before this year ends:

WORKING OUT - I am giving my self an hour a day or at least three days a week depending how intense the workouts I follow by Chloe Ting are. I trust Chloe Ting cause it seems like I can actually see results since other people has done them. I had seen a difference til those tragic last 2 weeks happened 😤.

EATING HEALTHY - I need to go back to my diet of having protein with veggies and portion off some carbs. I also need to aim for a least a day or 2 for cheat meals. 😩MY HABITS WERE TERRIBLE THOSE 2 WEEKS. Also, I am going to need a list of fruits and other stuff to satisfy my deadly sweet tooth 😁. I also need to get my water consumption ON A ROLL. 2L a day, let’s get that bladder moving per usual.

I need to also remember that - IT IS NOT A RACE, IT IS A MARATHON 😉!! Nothing comes overnight and that I need to earn it just like what I did with my job at work.

Have my room/home-life ON A ROLL

I live in a pigsty 😕... I come home to mess and shit all around my room and it is seriously and unbearable. Happy home = happy mood. I don’t know how I can get my lazy ass to get up and clean around. However with all this goal setting, hopefully I can pick myself up and get to it. Even after cleaning, I NEED TO MAINTAIN HOW NEAT IT IS 😩!! Not to worry, I just gotta channel my inner Monica Gellar and we will get there.

The To-Do list for my room:

Re-do closet: I have a lot of clothes that are just lying there and have not been worn once this year and yet I still keep buying and buying 🤡! I might create a sack of of unwanted clothes and ship it off my relatives to the Philippines or to a charity store. Even with my retail job, hopefully I can rearrange my closet nicely.

Clean up my desk: Arguably the easily messiest part of my room. I am not really satisfied with my desk and every time I clean it, I still feel just BLEH about it. I might revamp it and just order some desk decor so hopefully that is better.

Find some storage for OLD UNNECESSARY SHIT: They may be unnecessary but these things can at least help someone or just be put away or burnt. I have no idea. I got old school books under my bed and in my closet and that shit needs to go!!

As I said before with LOCKDOWN 2.0 being around, there are no excuses not to clean! 👺

WORK & MONEY ON A ROLL (🤔)

I don’t know LOL 😂!! Like I said before, I don’t have much shifts due to the current situation. Therefore, I see less $$$ going into my account. However, once again, MY LAZY ASS needs to apply for youth allowance. The whole application takes ages and I understand! Ever since I have gotten this new Macbook AKA my beautiful Ramona, I have became so broke like I NEED TO GET THIS stuff outta the way.

The priorities right now:

GET THAT DAMN APPLICATION DONE.

However I need to check if the place is still open cause the documentation that I need to supply, I cannot provide proof for some reason so I gotta get there myself. 😫THE STRUGGLES ARGHHHHH!!

Me needs to be ON A ROLL. period. 🤭

In order to get myself on a roll, thus this far, the goal setting and this blog will hopefully put me on a right track. I have been doing really shitty things to cope with it all, I don’t wanna go in depth cause I am gonna get all these things coming on to me like:

“WTF DON’T DO THAT”

“THAT IS STUPID”

“WOW SO DRAMATIC, IT ISN’T THAT DEEP”

Honestly, my mental health has been all over the place this year. I mean last year was when I was on my lowest of all lows. With so many things arriving to me, it gets too much sometimes. I mean, I would have never expected the things that happened this year to occur. Was I prepared for this new chapter of life? Absolutely not!! I have gotten new friends, a new job and new perspective in life. Life is a complete 180 compared to the messy year previously. 2019 was NO JOKE. I am grateful for 2020 and the new blessings I was offered.

Somehow I feel like I have gotten it all in this life right now and it seems like I got myself together. That is not really the case though 🧐. Just like that song that Britney Spears sang, “Lucky”:

“If there is nothing, missing in my life then why do these tears come at night?...”

It’s obvious that I am not satisfied just yet. I still have a lot to go. There are so many things I need to work on and that is on my self esteem, my confidence and really trusting myself and being able to forgive myself from past experiences. Most of these are due to because I do not have a significant other or nobody “hitting me up”. I know, why the fuck do I honestly need someone to satisfy myself? I just feel the pressure of being that 19 year old that has not really fell in love with anyone yet. I mean my lucky 13-15 year old self had experienced what it was like to fall in love for the first time. In all seriousness, being in love in your early teens is way different to falling in love in your late teens to young adult ages. In that late teens to young adult stage - love is strived for a long term. Maybe I strive for a longterm relationship and that is why I am very careful with who I fall for and let in.

Nowadays love has no limits in terms of everything for me. Let it be a guy or a girl. Maybe I am not in a relationship yet because I am not ready for it and I just need time to really focus on myself and really heal whatever is hurting. I have all these amazing opportunities that the universe has provided me, maybe love is not what I need right now and I need to understand that. The thought of not having anyone hitting me up or not being in a relationship has really made me insecure. I always thought I was either too fat, too ugly or too “out there”. At the end of the day, that person would love me for who I am and the way I am, that person would not want me to change a damn thing about myself. It’s all a matter of just waiting. The universe is really taking its time for the person that will soon reach out to me and who I will reach out for.

I often put myself down because of this but at the end of day, this is my life and that I cannot keep putting myself down. I need to be more kinder to myself and really give myself credit. I am progressing myself through just accepting the past for what it is and really becoming a person that i’ve always wanted to be. I want to be someone that is caring, someone you can rely on, that is there for a fun time. I am reaching the path of wanting to become someone that is passionate and committed for what they wanna do for the future and really pave a way for people. I am so much different from the past but there are still things I cannot accept but I will get there hopefully.

I also need to trust the universe and its magic. However, those pick-a-card readings and horoscope readings have given me more of an understanding why I am feeling this way and to understand myself better. So to simplify, patience and trust is what I need to build on and equip and just believing in myself and what the universe has to offer. I believe the universe is crafting something for me that impactful and hopefully just beautiful.

Basically I need to work on:

Being more kinder to myself

Being more patient with myself and the universe

Believing and trusting the universe and what it is doing

Forgive yourself from past mistakes

Be grateful what 2020 has given you.

I also need to work on stuff that will make me less lonely when I have those days or those moments. I feel like my worst enemy when I am by myself. So I need think of ways that will uplift and brighten me up and can improve in taking care of myself better.

Watching more anime - Let’s try and get through Sailor Moon and all of those Netflix animes and other people’s recommendations 🤩🤩🤩

Being committed to my daily and night skin routine - Just because I feel depressed or sad does not mean I cannot do pamper up!! GOD DAMN ZU! 🤨Since we are not able to go to the city which where I get all my skincare goodies from, we are going to need to research and choose wisely products that are accessible around me and MAYBE find something online. I don’t trust online stuff but whatever.

It’s gonna take a lot of time and there is a lot of things on my plate clearly. All of these goals will hopefully get me on a roll to a more HAPPY, POSITIVE AND BRIGHT direction in life. I always have to remember to be grateful for the blessings that have been provided for me and to really work hard for more blessings. I never deserved what I have, I always had to earn through working hard for what I always want in this life that is the way of the knight.

This is the knight signing off, heading to getting myself and my “all over the place” ass on a roll ✌️!!

- Zujin De Torres

#2020 #blog #goals #july

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allenmendezsr · 4 years

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The Anti-anxiety Recipe Plan

New Post has been published on https://autotraffixpro.app/allenmendezsr/the-anti-anxiety-recipe-plan/

The Anti-anxiety Recipe Plan

Buy Now

ATTENTION: For anyone that struggles with high-stress levels, depression, insomnia, or a troubled state of mind, you can discover…

Dear Friend,

It’s time to put yourself back in the driver’s seat of your life.

Poor mental health is a serious subject, and it should never be taken lightly.

Over the next few minutes, I’m going to share with you how you can attack one of the major contributors of anxiety.

Your stress, worry, and fears should never dictate how you should live your life ever again…

And you can conquer these feelings, WITHOUT taking any medication to “temporarily” ease your mind.

First, you need to understand that the key to feeling calm and collected and not “lost in your head” is to master what some doctors call “your second brain.”

I know it sounds crazy, but let me explain.

Introducing…

Listen: there is no one simple cure for anxiety.

Since there are a lot of different variables that lead to it, it takes more than one change to get rid of anxiety for good.

You see, most people don’t “get” how your diet plays a MAJOR role with how the rest of your body, and more importantly, your mind functions.

Enter The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan.

If you’re someone who suffers from anxiety, this recipe book will help you take an entirely natural approach to improve your mind and well-being.

You’ve heard this saying before—

“You are what you eat.”

And according to research from John Hopkins Medical School, whenever you’re nervous or anxious, you’re likely getting signals from an unexpected source—your gut.

AKA your “second brain.”

It’s the reason why you’ll feel your stomach “act up” right before an important event, like a job interview or even a hot date.

Studies like this are revolutionizing the way people look at digestion, mood, your health, and yes, the way you think.

The recipes inside The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan remove ingredients that inflame your gut, leave you in a sluggish mental state, or trigger anxiety.

That’s why the launch for this book is taking the health and wellness community by storm…

Instead of eating recipes full of refined and unnatural foods, The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan uses ingredients like antioxidants, healthy fats, and healing herbs.

And they’re not just good for you. Inside, you’ll find 50+ anxiety-relieving recipes so mouth-watering, they’ll blow your favorite stuffed crust pizza out of the water.

Dishes like Korean Style Steak and Kimchi Wraps…Sweet Potato Frittatas…Turmeric Tahini Buddha Bowls…Crispy Baked Chicken Cutlets…and Lemon Poppylicious Energy Balls

(And they blast anxiety away with each bite)

These “Holistic Mind Soothing Ingredients” are time-tested, proven, all-natural ingredients that BANISH anxiety and SOOTHE your mind.

Not only that, but you can use them to regain your health, energy, and vitality.

How?

Each recipe leverages the power of the Paleo Diet.

Because sure, Paleo is still making waves everywhere.

It’s recently been featured on popular shows like Rachael Ray and Dr. Oz, and it’s backed by leading Doctors and Nutritionists. It’s even used by celebrities like Megan Fox, Jessica Biel, and Anne Hathaway!

And for good reason:

The Paleo diet works by eating whole foods that have kept humans healthy for centuries.

The core principles are simple:

No processed foods

No dairy

No refined sugars

Basically, if your “stone age ancestors” didn’t eat it, neither should you.

Every meal in this diet usually has 2/3 vegetables and 1/3 of lean protein, fruits, and healthy fat.

However, it’s not all fun and games…

Because before today, going Paleo meant giving up ALL gluten, dairy, processed sugar, and artificial ingredients.

HOWEVER…

The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan is changing all of that…

And lets us indulge in appetizing, paleo-friendly versions of everything we’re told to “give up” on the paleo diet.

Imagine!

Avo Choco Mousse…Maple Macaroons…Cherry Chocolate Chip Smoothies…Cinnamon Apples…

Wait until you see the gorgeous photos below.

But before we get there, allow me to introduce myself:

Hi, my name is Danny Jeffers.

I’m a health and wellness enthusiast and for years I’ve struggled with life-crippling anxiety. That’s why for the past six months, I’ve been obsessed with one single goal…

Today, I’m proud to say I’ve finally cracked the “Anxiety-Code”. I’ve discovered 50+ Anti-Anxiety recipes that are downright to-die-for…

And I want to share them with you too.

So you can nourish both your mind and body, live a life full of energy, and escape your negative thoughts…

WITHOUT using medication.

WITHOUT giving up your favorite guilty pleasures.

And WITHOUT eating the same, bland foods every day.

What’s more: these recipes will work for you even if you’ve tried other diets…

You see, you don’t have to be a whiz in the kitchen, and you don’t need to give up hours of your time to figure out each recipe.

The holistic, mind-soothing ingredients in The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan are here to calm you down, not cause any more stress.

It’s difficult to share but I think it’s important so here we go…

I didn’t know I was going to end up in the ER that day.

It was a regular Thursday morning. And as I got out of bed, I whipped up what I thought at the time, was a “healthy” breakfast.

If you saw me in public you would think nothing was wrong with me.

I exercised every day, had a good job, a girlfriend, and had a ton of friends.

Yet despite looking like everything was “right” in my life, I was exhausted and beat myself up daily with self-criticism.

I hated my life for no good reason at all…

My mind was foggy. My head was constantly dizzy.

I just felt so…off.

Sound familiar?

At the same time, I felt like I had to always be “on edge.”

I overthought EVERYTHING.

Sometimes it felt like I would just “forget” how to talk to people too.

“Should I talk now?”

“Am I saying the right thing?”

“How do I know everything is going to be okay?”

But it gets worse.

These “symptoms” only scratch the surface.

Because the second noon hit that day, it was like someone hijacked my mind.

I was in the middle of a small meeting for my work, right in the heart of downtown Santa Monica, California.

Something in my head screamed at me to leave NOW.

I swear, it was like my mind was warning me that I was being chased down by a tiger.

My breathing grew heavy, so I stood up and rushed outside of the building to get some fresh air.

But still, I could sense my anxiety clawing right through my skin…

I looked around me.

It really was a beautiful day in Santa Monica, the sun was shining, the palm trees swaying…

But underneath it all, I felt broken.

I thought to myself, “did somebody drug me?”

Nothing made sense.

After pacing around the streets like a madman, I used my shaky hands to call up an Uber so I could retreat to my home.

I just knew I couldn’t stay here.

Then, after waiting for what felt like HOURS I finally got into my Uber and continued to sweat bullets.

Inside the car, I desperately scrambled to tell my driver that I NEEDED to go to the ER NOW.

He rushed me over.

And as you can probably guess, they couldn’t tell me a straight answer for what was wrong with me.

A kind nurse told me it might’ve been just vertigo and it would eventually “go away.”

The rest of the staff said to “sleep it off…”

Seriously?

That was the best answer I could get?

I must’ve been going insane. I wanted to give up.

Was this just a one-time thing?

But for the next few months, my anxiety would rear its ugly head again…

My negative self-talk would creep in at random parts of the day.

And my brain would fire off alarm bells during normal moments…

Like right before an important presentation I had to give at work…

While talking to a coworker…

Sitting in a crowded room with strangers…or friends…

And even while getting a haircut…!

This intense anxiety dripped into other parts of my life too…

Eventually, I couldn’t focus at work anymore.

And my relationship with my beautiful girlfriend strained.

I felt suffocated from it all.

But here’s the thing.

I never told anyone I suffered from anxiety.

That’s because I didn’t want to deal with the “stigma” or feel embarrassed over it.

Still, I couldn’t stand feeling this way anymore.

I started experimenting with antidepressants.

Whenever doctors would prescribe me medicine or a new over the counter pill, I would ask them if I could have three more…

I just wanted to do whatever it took to finally BANISH my anxiety for good.

You name it, I’ve tried it.

Yet nothing really worked.

Sometimes they would only make me feel a little better…

But I still felt some symptoms.

The rush of uncertainty….

The heightened senses…

Me questioning every tiny thing…

And that’s IF I didn’t feel like a zombie.

I couldn’t go on like this.

So I started looking for a holistic approach.

No, not meditation.

It’s already hard enough to meditate WITHOUT anxiety, how in the world would I be able to “clear my mind” with it?

I thought I could find something else.

The more I dove into this problem, the more I learned.

And then I discovered that…

Remember what I mentioned earlier.

Some doctors call your gut “the second brain.”

Sounds strange but it’s true.

Your gut and mind are connected.

Together, they help determine your overall health, so when your gut health is out of balance, your body and mind will know it too!

Like I said, I discovered this after reviewing studies from John Hopkins Medical School, Harvard, The National Center for Biotechnology, and Psychology Today.

For example, you probably already knew that most fried foods like french fries, chicken, and onion rings are terrible for your health.

They’re cooked in hydrogenated oil so they’re harder to digest.

These foods will sap your energy levels, even HOURS after you eat them!

Yet it may surprise you to know that some “everyday” foods you might think are “healthy” for you, throw your entire nervous system out of whack too.

Sometimes, their negative effect is so powerful, you can overstimulate your nervous system to the point that it feels like you’re reliving a stressful life event or bad memory.

And I’m not just talking about coffee, or anything with caffeine either.

Too much dairy and something as simple as your favorite fruit juice can also give you fatigue and make it difficult to concentrate.

I took a good, hard look at my diet and what I’ve been feeding “my second brain” for years…

Here I was lost in my daily dose of mental hell, and the reason was right in front of me this entire time…

So now you know that your gut has a deeper connection to the rest of your body, and especially your anxiety…

What do you do?

You can’t “numb” your senses with medication, because they only help “manage” your anxiety for the short term.

And you can’t just “skip” certain meals, because the drop in your body’s sugar levels can lead to a spike in anxiety too!

When one of my friends introduced me to an all-natural, real food, paleo diet… my state of mind finally began to return to normal.

Almost instantly, my brain fog, dizziness, and near fight-or-flight symptoms vanished.

My anxiety wasn’t gnawing at my conscious 24/7.

And for the first time in what must’ve been YEARS, I was overflowing with real, natural joy.

But like I said before, the only drawback?

Paleo makes you cut grains, high-fat meats, sugar, salty foods…

The list goes on…

Basically this means I couldn’t keep eating anything tasty.

My pizza, doughnuts, and everything in between.

As a result, my cravings went bonkers!

Perhaps you can relate:

I wanted to chow down on cheesecake after dinner…

I wanted to devour a frozen pizza with my friends and watch Game of Thrones with a cold one in my hand…

And there’s nothing else out there that hits the spot like my mom’s infamous spaghetti and meatballs.

But now I couldn’t indulge in any of those guilty pleasures…

So I searched far and wide, looking for a chef who understood the deep relationship food has with your mind…

Not only that, but I was also looking for someone who knew how to whip-up delicious, mouth-watering meals in a snap.

And that’s when I met…

Let me introduce, Melissa.

Melissa is a certified nutritional chef and graduate from The Academy of Culinary Nutrition.

She has a knack for re-creating “unhealthy dishes” and turning them into a healthy meal packed with flavor.

You’ve probably seen some of her recipes cooked on Dr. Oz, and featured on The Kitchen Blog for Fisher, Paykel Appliances, and Readers Digest.

Melissa gets it.

Not only is she extremely passionate about cooking, but she loves sharing her knowledge of all things health.

I got the chance to meet her in New York City after going to one of her health and wellness workshops.

At the event, she talked about her personalized nutrition programs, and she gave a demonstration of one of her original recipes.

But what really struck a chord with me was when she talked about the “gut-brain connection” I already did a ton of research on.

When the event ended, I went up to her and shared with her what I’ve learned about this subject too.

She was open with me and she shared her struggles with chronic stress, food sensitivities, fatigue, and anxiety.

At first she thought there was nothing seriously wrong with her…maybe you’re like her.

You see, she worked long hours and was a “road warrior” that was constantly on the go.

Whenever she would visit a traditional doctor to tackle this problem, they would just try to give her pills…

But there was no way she would go through that downward spiral.

Instead, she took another close look at her recipes.

She figured out how she could adjust them so that they would not only help her with food allergies, but also with her stress and anxiety too!

And of course, as a top chef, she knew she had made sure they were delicious.

The result?

The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan, her new recipe book filled with 50+ mouth-watering anxiety relieving recipes that lets you indulge while keeping your mind clear and your heart happy.

While I was with her in person, she shared with me a couple of the dishes she put together in her book.

I sampled them, and had to double check with her to ask her again what the ingredients were…

I told her right then that she had to share the recipes in this book with more people.

Listen: no one wants to force bland, lifeless food down their throat.

That’s why Inside The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan, you can be rest assured, every recipe is bursting with flavor.

Each bite of the chocolate chip muffins or cranberry orange bread is warm and scrumptious.

The mouth-watering sweet potato frittata is savory.

And the chicken cutlets and broiled salmon are rich and filling.

The cherry on top is that if you’re looking to shed an extra few pounds and feel more energized than ever, they can be made PALEO…

What’s cool is most of these can be made within minutes… and without any expensive equipment.

Meaning using exactly what you have laying around your kitchen right now, you can dig in immediately after work… guilt free!

You can forget having to go to different grocery stores every week…

Each ingredient can be found at your local grocery chain. So these recipes aren’t just delicious and good for you, they’re convenient too!

Goodbye grueling grocery store visits… hello easy mood and easy food.

Remember: each recipe is natural and nourishes your “second brain.” This means you won’t have to deal with any weird chemicals.

For each page, there’s a nutritional breakdown and explanation for how each ingredient soothes your mind and body.

So the bottom line is this: there’s something for everyone!

And just to reiterate one more time…

Look: nobody likes complicated recipes, especially if you’re someone suffering from anxiety and high-stress levels.

That’s why each recipe in The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan is made simple!

Most can be prepared in 15-30 minutes…

And some, even quicker!

Don’t worry, you don’t have to be Gordon Ramsay to whip these up.

Even if you struggle to prepare the most basic recipes, you’ll still be able to make these tasty, mind-soothing meals, snacks, and desserts in The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan with no problem.

You might also be concerned about the ingredients…

And specifically, where you can get them…

Now, I’ll be straight with you:

If this is your first cookbook, then sure, some of the ingredients will be new.

But most — if not all — are laying around your kitchen already.

Things like cinnamon, baking soda, lemon juice…

And any ingredients you need to get can be found in your closest “normal” grocery store or found online (from the comfort of your own home) on Amazon.

Plus each recipe includes a breakdown of how fast it takes to make each meal. You’ll also have an inside look behind HOW each ingredient nourishes both your mind and body.

I wanted to share with you what’s included in The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan because originally, the price for this hovered over $65.

However, Melissa and her the publisher’s have agreed to give this away for NOWHERE near that amount!

All in all, you’re getting:

And I’m even going to make sure that you don’t risk a penny when you pick up a copy of The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan today.

That’s because you’re backed by this…

I want to share this recipe book with you, at no risk.

All the pressure is on me.

Why am I doing this?

Because I’ve been there.

I know what it feels like to try and make a difference in your health and well-being.

And I know how it is to try and make something healthy and delicious at the end of every anxiety-ridden day.

I get how complicated things can get in the kitchen.

So regardless if this is your first time on the paleo diet, or your first time cooking real, natural food that’s good for your health and well-being.

I want you to experience the life-changing benefits I went through with these holistic, mind-soothing ingredients.

And The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan does just that.

You’re at a crossroads now.

You can do what I did and spend the next few months or even YEARS testing out every antidepressant you can imagine trying to get rid of your anxiety alone…

Spending thousands of dollars on doctors visits, therapy sessions, and more…

Only to still “get by” trapped inside your mental prison…

Or… you can skip all of that insanity, ditch the pills, and save a ton of money by investing in your health today.

And remember, Melissa’s publishers are giving away this $65+ value recipe plan… All for the price of a medium size pizza.

It’s an investment in your happiness … which I’m sure is worth a lot more to you than the tiny cost of this recipe book.

Don’t you agree?

And remember, you risk nothing. You have a full 60 days to try out these recipes in The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan yourself.

If you’re not jumping with joy over your improved mood, clearer mind, and if you’re not excited about how mouth-watering these recipes are…

You don’t pay a dime. The recipe book will still be yours to keep, as a “thank you” for trying.

Let’s do this — together — click the button below and claim your copy of The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan right now:

Q: How will these recipes get rid of my anxiety?

Your mind and body are connected. In fact, some doctors call your gut the “second brain.” That’s why whenever you feel nervous, your stomach may growl or you’ll feel a little queasy.

So if you’re feeding your body the wrong foods, you’ll notice you feel more anxious, sluggish, and just “not right.”

The delicious meals inside The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan are backed by holistic mind-soothing ingredients you can use to nourish your “second brain.”

Q: Can I find all the ingredients in a normal grocery store?

Yes, almost all of the ingredients in The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan can be found in regular grocery stores (i.e. Target, Kroger, Wal-Mart, Publix, etc…) They’re also all on Amazon if you want to shop from the comfort of your own home, and can definitely be found in health food stores like Whole Foods.

Q: Are all meals, including the desserts, paleo-approved?

Yes, all of the breakfast, entrées, sides, salads, soups, and desserts are paleo-approved.

Q: How hard is it to prepare each meal following this book?

A majority of the meals and desserts can be put together in 15 minutes or less (not including cook/chill time) – the recipes are meant to be easy to follow so you can whip up these tasty dishes and treats for yourself and your loved ones with minimal effort.

Q: What allergens are in The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan?

Some of the potential allergens you may want to be aware of include coconut (coconut flour, coconut oil, coconut milk/cream, and coconut butter), nuts (like almonds, cashews, macadamia nuts, and pecans), and eggs. Options for using butter or ghee in some recipes can easily be replaced with coconut oil to avoid all dairy.

Q: Is The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan really backed by a 100% money-back-guarantee?

Yes. You risk nothing. You have a full 60 days to try out these recipes in The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan yourself.

If you’re not jumping with joy over your improved mood, clearer mind, and if you’re not excited about how mouth-watering these recipes are…

You don’t pay a dime. The recipe book will still be yours to keep, as a “thank you” for trying.

Q: I still don’t believe these recipes can end my intense anxiety. How is this different and what really makes this work?

Intense anxiety or depression is nothing to take lightly. I know, because I struggled with both for not months, but years.

The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan is different because it takes a natural, holistic approach to restore balance back to your mind, health, and well-being.

Sure, sometimes the strongest medical pills out there can “temporarily” relieve your suffering…but why not attack a major source for your anxiety and nourish your mind with the right nutrients instead?

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blessuswithblogs · 7 years

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My Experiences with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

Today's piece has very little to do with video games, but instead, me. This is more of an exercise in catharsis and thought ordering than something really meant for other people to read and go "o yea thats neat," but you're welcome to do so anyway. I'm also putting up some content warnings for Mental Health Junk like eating disorders and severe anxiety, as well as allusions to stomach flu symptoms (this one probably bothers me more than anybody reading). If you wish to proceed with all that in mind, by all means.

Let's start at the beginning. I've suffered from minor post-traumatic symptoms for over 20 years after the conclusions of traumatic events, usually severe illness. In the past, these symptoms have been self-limiting and usually resolved after a couple of months. Even after I was terribly ill with pneumonia, had an allergic reaction to pneumonia medication, and spent several afternoons with a nebulizer in my mouth, it only took half a year or so to mentally recover from the incident, and all I really suffered from was mild worry when I started coughing. All this changed, however, in September of 2008. A number of unfortunate circumstances occurred in quick succession and I ended up dreadfully sick with gastroenteritis alone with my dad, who also caught it. It was an uncharacteristically virulent and severe strain of whatever norovirus was going around at the time. My working hypothesis is that my brother caught it at Disneyland after using the bathroom without washing his hands like a frickin idiot, because he caught it first and then spread it to the rest of us. My mom seemed unaffected, or was extremely adept at suppressing symptoms, so she hauled my brother's sick ass back up to his dorm in Santa Barbara. Originally, this was going to be a family outing, but I argued that I really didn't need to be there for other reasons entirely, which, as it turned out, ended up dodging a bullet. We both got sick after they left, and it was a miserable night by all accounts.

It marked a couple of milestones for me. Sheltered child that I was (let's be honest, sheltered child that I am), I had never been in a position where I was seriously debilitated and my mom wasn't there to be mom at me. It was also the first time I sort of had to take care of somebody else being ill, because as sick as I was, my dad was even sicker. He's also an unreasonable old fuck who demanded that I didn't let mom know that we were both the next victims of the plague, but I disregarded that order because I was freaking out and in that pre-sick period where you feel pretty nauseated but you're not really sure if that's because you ate too fast or something or you're actually sick. She came back the next day with some pedialite or however you spell it. I was actually kind of delirious at that point, utterly sleep deprived and running a nasty fever. I still vividly recall a strange sort of fever daydream I had in the shower about The Big O being featured in the upcoming Super Robot Wars Z, which is really strange to me to this day but there it is. Showtime, I guess. Prior to this bout of sickness, I had been struggling with tummy troubles the whole year due to the stress of acclimating to living in a new state and a few unfortunate cases of much more mild gastroenteritis. By the time of this incident, I was already pretty worn down, and it turned out to be the straw that broke the camel's back. After making a physical recovery and doing okay for a few days, I started exhibiting severe anxiety symptoms. At the time, I didn't know it, but I was actually a fairly textbook case of post-traumatic stress disorder, and it basically stopped me from being a functioning human for a good year or so.

Let's talk a little about PTSD. The classical understanding of this disorder is that of combat fatigue, something that only soldiers in hellish warzones suffer from after seeing their squaddies get blown up by the Vietcong or whatever. A largely more enlightened view than the previous perception of the disorder as "shell shock" or, even worse, "malingering," but one still inadequate for a modern clinical context. PTSD can be brought about by any sufficiently traumatic event meeting with a sufficiently susceptible person, as per the diathesis model of medicine. If that's what they're still calling it. It's actually been pretty long since I've taken any psych courses, the last two years of college was mostly just filling in credits with random bullshit. At any rate, while soldiers are a large demographic of PTSD sufferers, people can contract it from just about anything -- car accidents, sexual assault (this is a big one, almost assuredly more prevalent than in active combat personnel), and, of course, severe illness. It took me a long time to actually be honest enough with myself and my various therapists to reach the diagnosis. I had suspicions, because even then I was studying psychology, albeit in highschool elective curriculum, and I was at that point familiar with most high profile mental illnesses like PTSD, depression, schizophrenia, and what have you. I also knew, however, that young students diagnosing themselves with diseases they had recently read about in a textbook was also a definite phenomenon. Thus, I was reluctant to bring up the possibility and actively downplayed symptoms, both because I had no faith in myself to make an even marginally accurate diagnosis and because I felt ashamed of the possibility. People get PTSD from actual trauma, not a weekend bout of stomach flu, or so I thought. To be honest, I still feel pretty ashamed of it, but I'm old enough now to know that lying to myself and others will get me precisely nowhere.

Fortunately for me, I think that my therapists and psychiatrists at the time were altogether too clever and perceptive to be fooled by a fairly half-hearted show of resistance. We didn't really give what I was feeling a name until quite a ways into it all, but from the outset, my treatment was focused on alleviating these symptoms. And, wouldn't you know it, the SSRI anti-depressants I had been on-again-off-again taking since I was 14 were also the medication of choice for treating post-traumatic stress. It took a long time, but I eventually managed to get myself together enough to start community college, then transfer to a UC school and graduate. Not without difficulty, mind you, but it's still fairly miraculous to me that it happened at all. I had occasional flare-ups, usually linked to a trigger of somebody else throwing up in my general vicinity. My brother seemed to make a habit of coming home from college only to immediately get sick, which was always harrowing. To this day, I don't know how one person can contract so many instances of gastroenteritis. I always seemed to avoid catching his bugs, probably due to my redoubled hygiene practices and general hypervigilance, though there was a period in the summer of 2012 where I got sick with -something- that made my stomach miserable. Not enough to puke, but enough to make me really worry. That was the summer right before I went to go live on my own in campus housing, so, I ended up coming home on weekends to keep myself together.

Recently, as you may or may not know, I've had a major resurgence of symptoms after a very mild case of stomach flu. I honestly wasn't sick for very long, or very violently, but it was enough to bring bad memories flooding back and reopen a terribly inconvenient can of worms. At the time, I was not on any medication due to just generally being at a fairly high level of functioning but a fairly low level of Have Money. I still feel that the decision was mostly sound, but I severely underestimated my potential reaction to a triggering event. Which I suppose in and of itself was a good indicator of my mental health prior to the incident. With the old wounds reopened and no psychoactive agents to help with the pain, I got. Bad. I'm doing better now, thanks to meds and the passage of time, but I'm still not at full capacity, and summer was utterly dire. One of the halmark symptoms of PTSD is going to great lengths to avoid situations and stimuli similar to the trauma that originated the illness. Unfortunately for me, it is very difficult to avoid "feeling nauseous" or "eating food," though God knows I gave it my all. With my comorbid emetophobia back in full swing, I drastically altered my diet and eating habits. I heavily favored foods that I could cook or supervise the cooking of and foreswore fast food and takeout of any kind. Going to a restaurant to eat was out of the question - my first time back to one was this sunday, and it was an altogether miserable experience for a lot of reasons. My handwashing has increased in frequency to the point where I occasionally need to stop myself from doing it unless absolutely necessary so my skin doesn't crack open. Above all, I have been eating a lot lot lot less. Hearing compliments about weight loss is nice, but given the circumstances, it's hard to enjoy them. I spent most of the summer forcing myself to eat and drink when I really, sincerely did not want to. I found comfort in hunger. Hunger was a signifier that all was well, that my body was operating within acceptable parameters, that being hungry and vomiting were not states that could coexist - at least, that was the thought process. The stomach is more complicated than that, of course, but defense mechanisms rarely make a lot of sense.

The anxiety, fear, and tired listlessness of post-traumatic stress disorder are all well documented. I had those in spades. I think my mom caught me doing the whole thousand yard stare a couple of times, though I doubt she realized the significance of me spacing out. A particularly nasty foible to my particular situation is that one of my body's most cherished stress responses is to get sick to my stomach. Feedback loops are quite common in mental illness, and if I am not Queen of Feedback Loops, I am at very least a Minor Duchess. I know the cycle all too well. Stomach pain into anxiety. Anxiety into worsened stomach pain. It doesn't take long on my bad days to literally think myself sick. My symptoms have trended towards the more mild side of the spectrum, at least after medication was reintroduced, but I make up for it by having a trigger that creates itself. A lot of the time, the only way I have to deal with bad episodes is to try and throw myself utterly into something else and forget about physical being for a while. Long hours in FFXIV and Civ6 can attest to this. When that doesn't work, I often have to lie down and bury my head into a pillow until I calm down enough to start feeling better. It is, in a word, disruptive.

One aspect of the disorder that is not often discussed is the heightened fight-or-flight response and startle reflex. It is especially ridiculous in my case because you cannot run from your digestive system. It tends to follow you around. Be that as it may, being constantly on alert for any and all signals of potential gastrointestinal distress is utterly exhausting. You listen to your surroundings. To other people. To yourself, for any normal stomach noises that you're convinced are the sign of the apocalypse. White noise becomes torture as you try to pick up any salient sounds distinct from the hum of the fan, and a great deal of innocuous noises start to sound a lot like worried words and puking. Coughing is the worst because it shares a pretty similar aural profile to vomiting. Naturally, my dad has been suffering from acid reflux induced coughing jags at all hours, so I'm never at a loss for something to listen to in alarm. And alarmed I am! A constant state of hypervigilance necessitates a constant state of being easily startled. People coming up behind you when you're occupied with something else, for instance, becomes a terrifying experience because they just seem to materialize out of thin air. My new room has my back to the door and my headphones are noise-cancelling, so I am snuck upon on a regular basis, though at least with no ill intent. Probably. The garage door just below me seems almost vindictive in its loud rumbling, but I shouldn't add inappropriate anthropomorphization to large sheets of metal to my list of neuroses.

All of this comes down to a single thing: it's hard to feel like yourself when all of this is going on. Sometimes in a moment of lucidity you realize that this bizarre stranger who washes her hands way too much and refuses to eat anything has been ruining your life. Severe, prolonged stress creates a deep and abiding sense of unreality. You lose faith in yourself. You stop trusting yourself. The things you do don't seem to come out quite right. Interacting with other people feels like trying to talk to somebody on the other side of soundproof glass that's kind of smudgy and gross. Sometimes you yell too loud so that they can hear you, other times you mumble halfheartedly because you don't expect it to work anyway. And on rare occasions, you sort of lose touch with reality and try to beat down the pane and make a terrible fool out of yourself because to everyone else it looks like you're slamming your fists into a wall for no reason as you scream and cry. Even then, it's sort of worth it, just so you can say you've felt something other than creeping dread for a little bit.

I suppose, in a way, that this piece is part explanation, part apology, part anecdote. I haven't done as much stuff lately. I've been more reclusive, quicker to upset, a good bit spacier than usual. I've mentioned a few times that I've been suffering from a PTSD resurgence, but those are just words. There's no context behind them. It bothered me. I wanted to put down, in more concrete terms, how I've been feeling and coping and why that's cut into me being me. I don't know what this will accomplish, but maybe somebody out there will find it resonant, or even helpful. It feels necessary to get it out in the open and be honest about why I don't make many videos or streams anymore, or why I'm harder to get in touch with, less willing to do stuff with other people. I'm making progress. Hoping that I can get to the point where I could maybe hold down a job. Gotta dream big, right? Either way, thanks for taking the time to read this. It doesn't make anything that's happened better, but maybe it will help with things in the future. I'm rambling. I've never been good at conclusions, even when they're obvious and big and juicy. When it's just my thoughts, sort of stream of consciousness, I don't really know how to wrap things up because I could keep writing for a while, if we're being honest. Look in closing, 2017 fucking sucked okay.

#mental health #ptsd recovery #2017

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