#or i’d drop dead from lack of sleep

[eclipsesalign]

Urghhh. School is gonna kill me. Not because of the amount of work I’m experiencing right now but because I take an absurd amount of time to decompress after coming home, so I only get in the mood to draw after 8 PM, but the issue is that I need to go to bed at 10 PM in order to get a full 8 hours of sleep (I take awhile to fall asleep).

If it weren’t for my (kinda) strict rule about at least getting 7.5 hours of sleep every night, I would be unstoppable

[whateveriwant]

Can you please do Task force 141 finding out they’re having quintuplets! I’d imagine that they wouldn’t plan to have that many….at least not all at once 🧍‍♀️

Ghost

When the technician points out the five distinct dots on the ultrasound, he immediately goes dead silent

I mean, he's always pretty quiet anyway, but this is like quiet quiet

He doesn't utter a single word for the rest of the appointment, nor on the ride back home for that matter

This has you more concerned than you care to admit because you know that, not that long ago, he didn't think he'd ever have (much less want) kids of his own some day

So now that he's learned he's about to have five? You can't imagine what's going through his mind right now

It isn't until you're walking through the front door that you're being stopped with a gentle hand tugging on your wrist

You turn to look at him and, without a word, he drops to his knees before you, rolling up the bottom of your shirt to expose your belly

He'll press the softest of kisses just beside your navel, before looking up at you with expressive eyes that convey the foremost thought in his head: Thank you

Soap

Nearly shits a brick the moment the words leave the technician's mouth

All the color swiftly drains from his face and he has to sit down before he keels over right in the middle of the office

It's not so much fear that has him going paper white but pure shock at hearing the unexpected (yet not unhappy) news

While you'd already discussed having a big family together one day, you didn't think you'd get it done in one fell swoop

However, maybe you should've seen it coming since you both come from families that have had multiples

The possibility of this happening was decently high, so in a way, you're not all that surprised by the revelation

Once he's composed himself and is a little less ghostly pale in the face, he's eagerly requesting the technician to print out an excessive number of copies of the ultrasound

Why? Well, he's gotta send them to everyone, of course! His family, your family, all the lads at work. Hell, maybe your neighbor Charlie would like one too. Better print several just in case

Gaz

"C– Come again?" He thinks he misheard the technician at first

However, even hearing it a second time, he has to stand up, round the bed, and get about an inch away from the monitor to confirm for himself

It's almost comical the way his eyes widen at the screen, darting around the black and white image like he can't comprehend what he's seeing

It'll take some coaxing to get him back in his seat, and as he does, you hear him mumbling to himself – something about nappies, never sleeping again, and *shudders* University

At some point, out of the corner of your eye, you see him messing with his hands

He's putting his palm in front of his own stomach then drawing it about a foot or two away, as if trying to visualize the size your belly is destined to grow

Even when you get back home, it's like reality hasn't fully hit him yet

It's not until you find him at 2am looking up double decker prams that you realize it's finally starting to sink in, and he's more than ready for the challenge ahead

Price

Seems awfully calm when the technician breaks the news to you two

Based on his reaction – a light smile and mere "Oh, that's wonderful" – you'd think he'd just been informed of the weather or something

To be honest, his reaction (or lack thereof) is a little disarming, but you don't comment on it until you're buckling up in the car, mentioning his seeming total lack of nerves about the future

He chuckles and jokes that he already has to look after three big kids at work. What's five little ones at home to compare?

Though you think you can see what he's getting at, his cool-headedness about it all still has you in a bit of a tizzy

Is he not even a little surprised by the news? After all, it's not every day that people fall pregnant with quintuplets

At your question, he smiles and leans to press a bristly kiss to the back of your hand. When he pulls back, he's smirking, giving you the smuggest look you've ever seen from a man

"Told you I've got strong swimmers, love"

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Motivation

(Part 2)

—

Time Written- 10:23 p.m.

I wrote this 3 times and gave up. Severely gave up

—

“Wakey Wakey, sweetheart.” His lightly exhausted tone nearly roused your eyes open.

A faint click of a bedside lamp invades the silence shortly before Jason shuffles out of bed, displaying a warm glow to your light sensitive vision.

A small groan falls from your mouth, your eyes shutting closed in irritation from the distraction of your comfort. His arms left their sanctuary around your waist, a kiss of warmth remaining along your tummy before he readjusted a soft, thin blanket over your tired body.

Jason was considerate enough to turn off his alarm nearly three minutes before it goes off, saving his special girl a few minutes of precious sleep. As the midsummer sun dies down behind fluffy clouds, golden rays of light reflecting off skyscraper glass into the dead of the night, Gotham’s wild crowds creep out from their crooked caverns to play.

“Hey mama. Sorry to ruin the fun, but I think my arm ran out of blood flow.”

“Do you need it?” Your faint, croaked rumble spews from your barely moving lips.

“I mean, I suppose I’ll need it to fight an’ aim guns at unlucky bastards. Guess that means you gotta lose the pillow.”

Another groan leaves your lips before reluctantly raising your head, setting his arm free from its prison. You spent a minute of quiet suffering before Jason’s fingers cupped your head, guiding you to raise it just enough to slip a fluffy pillow to settle your pretty brain on.

The A/C was on full blast, the blank noise lulling your tired minds to sleep around seven. While it was counterintuitive to be snuggling together in this hot summer heat, you wanted nothing more than to be in his company, comfortable in his safety.

Bare feet shuffling along hard foot floor shifts to heavy rubber soles as Jason gets dressed. Soft cotton and polyester drops to the ground, replaced with tactical fabrics and scrunching leather. A short sonnet of clicks and snaps follow as he adjusts his belt and holsters, getting everything comfortably situated on his person.

“You’re not angry with me, are ya?” He clicks his tongue, fighting off a smile at your lack of response.

“Earth to Goddess.” His calm voice invades your ears as the floor creaks, the dressed vigilante shuffling to his knees beside the bed, settling close to your face.

“Princess.” Jason lightly chimes, brushing your cheek with the back of his pointer finger.

He then proceeds his ever loving assault via planting various kisses along your face, ranging from your cheek up towards your forehead, back down to your nose.

“Babygirl.” He cooes against your sweet smelling hair.

“Do you have to go now?” Came your eventual, irritated whine.

He leans forward, mattress gently creaking as he pressed his lips just under your ear for a quick kiss. “Not yet. You got me for five more minutes.”

Jason settles his head on your collarbone, your nose slightly tickled from locks of soft, dark hair. His eyes are closed, but for once, they’re content with peacefulness. That, and the events that would come within the next month, changing their lives forever.

Jason’s smile widens as your fingers mindlessly trails random shapes along his open palm, your hands always lingering somewhere along his body.

“Y’know I’d give just about anything to get back in bed with you,” his armored chest rumbles with his lowly spoken words. “But, I’m a little big in this get up to be this close to you at the moment. Don’t wanna crush you.”

Those sudden words couldn’t help but make you smile, scoffing just a bit. Ever the doting, overly concerned, slightly overdramatized, loving man he is.

“I don’t know who’s bigger right now,” your exhaustion let you speak in ghostly whispers. “You, or me.”

“Well, you’re the pregnant one,” he says, fighting off a strong, snarky remark with an amused smirk. “So, you definitely take the win with that.”

The look you gave him the second your eyes snapped open made him chuckle, as if he willfully insulted you. The irony of it, considering he was around 6’4 and 250 pounds, a large percent being complete muscle mass while you carried a seven pound baby.

“Kidding, babe. Kidding,” he soothes, trailing a few fingers along your swollen tummy just over the blanket. “Just trying to joke off the nerves. Doesn’t help that it’s my first time…”

“It better be your first time,” you mutter under your breath.

“Yeah yeah, It is. Don’t worry.” Jason’s voice is soft, his cheeks turning a light shade of red at that, and he can’t help but smile as the two of them laugh quietly at her joke.

The weight of their child is a constant pressure on your body to create an incredible miracle. It’s certainly something new, he always wants to make sure his little mama is happy and healthy. Mostly happy.

He trails a finger down your stomach, pausing when he feels a faint thud near the round lower edge of his palm. For eight months teetering on the edge of nine, the baby was definitely getting active.

“Think your boy’s getting ready to fight those unlucky bastards with you.” You lightly chide with a small grin.

“Language, mama,” Jason retorts, flicking some wisps of hair away from your head. “Don’t want ‘em to hear those foul words. An’ I’m not in the market for sidekicks.”

You frown again, scoffing at his hypocrisy.

The surrealism was intense, affecting him from the center of his brain towards the tips of his hands and toes.

Your boy, his boy. His son.

“You two keep the bed warm for me.” Jason murmurs before pressing a few goodbye kisses along your cheek. “I’ll come back with breakfast when you wake up, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, consciousness struggling to remain afloat. It’s a silly mental image; the reaction of the owners of an early bird, go-to diner frantically scrambling out of shock and awe when Red Hood himself enters their establishment.

He stands from the floor, lovingly glancing down at his beautiful, pregnant woman cradled in bed, nestled with his pillow, perfectly content.

“Be safe,” you whisper to him, watching him reach towards the lamp to shut it off. The warmth of the vanished lap changing his eyes from a strong emerald green back towards a crisp, steel-cut teal.

“I love you.”

Your voice always sweetened the deal, a perfect lullaby once it was his turn to sleep.

The perfect motivation for him to look forward to every morning.

“Love you too, mama.”

[dyk3tastic]

friends

victoria neuman (the boys) x reader

genre: angst, light smut, hurt/comfort(ish)?

summary: when victoria shows up unannounced at your apartment in the dead of night you want nothing more than to kick her to the curb, you let her in anyway. reader is a member of the boys, could be read as a follow up to my previous fic “cant have both” or as a stand alone. (now wiv a follow up u can read here)

warnings: weapons, language, slightly nsfw, light smut, mentions of sex

a/n: back with another one. getting back into posting ff, haven’t written for an ‘audience’ in a while, feedback is appreciated. enjoy! :)

“wow, you really gonna treat a friend like that?” victoria drawled, foot blocking your front door, stopping you locking her out. wide grin flashing her perfect white teeth. the last thing you wanted at 4am was to shuffle bleary eyed through your shitty apartment, glock firm in your grip by your side, to answer that incessant hammering against your door. when you open the door to see her standing you want nothing more than for the earth to open up and swallow you whole, dreading wallowing in the limbo between you both. the space between hate and longing, betrayal and understanding, where all interactions between you two now seemed to take place. you were tired.

staring up at you under her thick dark lashes, you knew you couldn’t get rid of her even if you wanted to. “we’re not friends” you croak out, voice rough with exhaustion. she just laughs at you, continuing to blink up at you like a fawn, flashing her predatory smile. “what are you doing here vic?” you hiss frustrated by her brazenness and lack of explanation.

“can i come inside? i want to talk to you”, she lets her smile drop. “please”.

you say nothing to each-other as you turn to let her in, she slides past you, eyes dragging down your body, heat prickles your ears as she clocks your batman underwear. she strides in, confident and assured as ever, walking towards the kitchen as if she were coming home from work, like she owns the place. just as you’re starting to become hyperaware of your lack of clothing she speaks again, voice gentle and relaxed over the quiet hum of the tv, “i knew you wouldn’t be asleep yet”.

“is that what you’ve come here to do, pretend to know me so well, tell me about my fucking sleeping patterns?” you mutter, irritated. resting against your kitchen counter you stood opposite her, taller than her now that she had her heels off. the low orange glow of the kitchen light illuminated her bronzed skin. victoria looks up at you, all brown eyed and beautiful, and it makes you forget what she’s done, what you’ve done, just for a second.

“i want zoe out. i want her far away from all this bullshit. i want out. i need you to help me undo this, to just leave it all behind. please.”

hissing, voice scratchy in your throat you half sigh, “you just turn up here and expect me to trust you, expect me to risk my life for you, blinking up at me like bambi and expecting me to feel fucking sorry for you.” “i trusted you, believed in what we were doing, in us. i thought we were working towards something right, some fucking justice for once. to find out those years of my life were useless, sisyphus pushing that rock up that never fucking ending hill for vought. when i told you about-“ you stop abruptly, tired of rehashing the past, take a deep, shaky breath and collect yourself. “coming round here talking about friends” you scoff.

chest rising and falling with uncertainty she stares you down, face unflinching. mocking and faux innocent she asks “we weren’t friends?”. “i’d say when i’d ride your pretty face til it was covered in my cum that we were friends, at least i definitely considered you my friend.” her smile is sharp. “when you’d rut against my leg all desperate and pleading you didn’t think i was your friend?” she added with an exaggerated pout.

you recognised the deflection immediately, could see that all she wanted was to crawl under your skin and pull you back to her. but you’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t effect you, the full truth of it all hanging in the air, your skin prickling with memory and mouth dry with the her boldness. “we’re not friends now” you say, proud of yourself for managing to keep your voice steady.

she steps forwards, encroaching in your space. “that’s okay, we don’t need to be friends”. she moves closer again, you don’t dare move, anxious not to scare her off, anxious to close the gap between you two. she breathes an “i’m sorry” into your neck, voice laced with what you so desperately want to believe to be sincerity. moving her head up, her nose bumps your cheek, plump lips pressing a soft kiss against your mouth. your arm moves of its own accord, snaking around her waist, urging her closer. her next kiss is less gentle, her mouth greedy and desperate against yours, chills run down your spine as you let out a quiet whimper. tongue swiping over her lower lip you let yourself get lost in her, in the kiss. transfixed by her touch heat pools deep in ur abdomen, your underwear growing sticky and uncomfortable.

the nights spent touching yourself, seething with anger as you imagined your fingers buried deep inside her, imagined pulling out those little pants and whimpers that made you want to never hear another sound again; those nights seething in your betrayal and wetness couldn’t compare to the electricity that ran through your body as her warm tongue licked lewdly into your mouth. nothing could compare to the feeling of her pressing her warm, petite but deadly body against yours. revelling in the feeling of her tits against your chest it was the bumping of her hip against the hard glock tucked in the thick waistband of your underwear that brought you out of your trance. both of you breathed heavy hot air against the others face, panting as you try to remember why you were here, to clear away you heady thoughts, to regain some semblance of control.

[adoresia]

── .✦ QUIET DEVOTION

⌗ PAIRING : Megumi Fushiguro x Black!femreader

⌗ SYNOPSIS : After a long day, Megumi waits for someone important to return from a mission. As exhaustion meets quiet affection, the night unfolds with unspoken care and fleeting vulnerability.

⌗ CW : fluff!, slight hurt/comfort tones, Mentions of fatigue.

⌗ SIA HERE ! : Was bored so I wrote this Lol, I have nothing else to say 😜

The dorm room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a desk lamp casting long shadows over the walls. Megumi sat at his desk, his eyes skimming over a book, though he wasn’t really reading. His attention kept drifting to his phone, which he’d placed face-up on the table so he wouldn’t miss any notifications.

“I’ll come over after my mission, promise. It shouldn’t be too long.”

He had read that text at least twenty times now.

That was hours ago. He wasn’t worried about your safety—he knew you could handle yourself. It was more that a certain quiet anticipation had been eating at him all day. He’d never admit it outright, but he had wanted to see you the moment the morning started. He even debated texting you to come over earlier, but he settled for waiting. Megumi was used to waiting.

When the soft knock finally came at the door, Megumi was quick to his feet. He opened it to find you standing there, looking utterly exhausted, but still managing to give him a tired smile.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, stepping inside.

“You’re late,” he said bluntly, though his tone lacked any real bite.

“Yeah, well, missions don’t exactly run on a schedule,” you shot back with a yawn, dropping your bag by the door and trudging toward his sofa. “Miss me?”

He rolled his eyes. “You look half-dead.”

“And yet, I’m still here,” you quipped, settling onto the sofa and stretching your legs out. “You’ve been waiting for me all day, haven’t you?”

“I wasn’t waiting.”

“Sure you weren’t,” you teased, smirking as you caught the faintest flicker of annoyance in his expression. “Anyway, I’m here now. So, what’s the plan?”

“The plan,” he said, closing his book and standing, “was for you to get some rest, but clearly, you’re too stubborn for that.”

You shook your head, forcing your heavy eyelids open. “No way. I didn’t come all the way here just to sleep. We’re spending time together.”

“You can barely keep your eyes open.” He shook his head and sat down at his desk again, watching as you tried to sit up straight, clearly fighting your fatigue. “I told you to take it easy if the mission ran late.”

“I’m fine.” You sat up straighter, as if to prove your point, but the movement only made you sway slightly before you caught yourself. “See? Totally fine.”

Megumi sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the desk. “You’re going to pass out in the next five minutes.”

“I am not,” you insisted, though your voice wavered with exhaustion.

He arched an eyebrow. “Right. Because falling asleep mid-sentence would really make for quality time.”

“Megumi,” you groaned, rubbing at your face to stay awake. “I’m serious. I really wanted to see you today.”

His gaze softened, but his expression remained impassive. “You’re seeing me now. That doesn’t mean you have to push yourself.”

“I said I’d come over, and I meant it,” you said, your voice quieter now, as if the last of your energy was draining away. “I just… I missed you, okay?”

His arms uncrossed, his fingers twitching slightly as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them. “…I missed you, too.”

You blinked at him, surprised by his honesty, and your lips curved into a sleepy smile. “See? That’s why I’m staying up. Who knows when I’ll get another confession like that out of you?”

He scoffed, walking over to the sofa and crouching down beside it. “If you think this counts as a ‘confession,’ you’re more delirious than I thought.”

“I’m not delirious,” you murmured, though your voice was muffled now as your head lolled to the side. “m’ just… happy to be here.”

“Sure you are.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, your eyes fluttering shut despite your best efforts to keep them open.

It wasn’t long before your head fell to the side, your breathing evening out. A faint snore escaped your lips, accompanied by a small trail of drool, your body finally giving in to exhaustion.

Megumi sighed quietly and stood, walking over to crouch beside the sofa. His dark eyes softened as he studied your face, taking in the way your features relaxed in sleep.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered.

Megumi stayed crouched beside the sofa, his forearms resting on his knees as his eyes roamed over your sleeping face. Your features were soft in the dim light, peaceful in a way he rarely got to see. His gaze lingered on the curve of your cheek, the way your lips parted slightly as you breathed, the faint smudge of drool that had collected at the corner of your mouth. He reached out and carefully wiped the drool from the corner of your mouth, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin.

His eyes followed the strands of hair that had fallen over your forehead, Then, with the same cautious touch, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering for a moment. His fingertips brushed against your temple. The movement was slow, almost reverent, as if he feared waking you.

Megumi’s expression softened further as his gaze traced the small details of your face—the faint shadows beneath your eyes from exhaustion, the way your lashes fanned out against your cheeks, the subtle twitch of your lips as you murmured something incoherent in your sleep.

He exhaled quietly, leaning in just enough to notice how your breaths fell in time with his. His dark eyes searched your face as though trying to commit every detail to memory: the slope of your nose, the delicate curve of your jawline, the way your expression remained so utterly serene, even when your day had clearly drained you.

In that moment, Megumi felt something deep and unspoken settle in his chest—a quiet kind of gratitude that you were there, safe and close, even if you had worn yourself out trying to keep your promise to him.

The door suddenly creaked open, and Gojo’s unmistakable voice filled the room. “Hey, Megumi, I saw y/n walk in here. I was just wondering—”

Megumi’s glare was instant and cutting. He raised a finger to his lips in a silent demand for quiet, his expression making it very clear he was not interested in waking you up.

Gojo’s eyes flicked to you on the sofa and back to Megumi, a knowing grin spreading across his face. “Ohhh, I see how it is. I’ll just—”

“Quiet.”

“Got it.” Gojo backed out of the room, shutting the door with exaggerated care.

Once the room was quiet again, Megumi sighed and slipped one arm beneath your knees and the other under your back, lifting you effortlessly. You stirred slightly, your head resting against his chest as he carried you to his bed.

“Megumi…” you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

“Shh,” he said softly, laying you down and pulling the blanket over you.

He slid in beside you, careful not to jostle you too much. For a moment, he simply lay there, watching your face in the dim light. Then, leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” he whispered, so quietly he wasn’t even sure if he’d said it aloud.

You stirred again, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “I heard that.”

Megumi stiffened. “Go to sleep.”

“You said it first,” you teased, turning to face him with a sleepy smile.

“Fine,” he muttered, his voice laced with exasperation but not a hint of regret. “I said it first. I love you. Now go back to sleep.”

“I love you, too,” you murmured, closing your eyes and nestling closer to him.

Megumi sighed, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he closed his eyes. “Good. Now shut up and go back to sleep.”

The irony wasn’t lost on him. For someone who carried himself with such practiced indifference, who rarely expressed his feelings in words, he had just uttered the most vulnerable confession without hesitation. He huffed quietly, half-annoyed at himself and half-amused by how natural it felt with you. Maybe that’s what frustrated him most—you had a way of undoing all the walls he worked so hard to keep up.

— 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 @/𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 !!

( note : I got the animated divider things from @/valetoria)

[wisecura]

Timid

Izuku Midoriya x you

Short headcannons

AN: Cuz I don’t have much from other fandoms and this has been on the back burner of my mind. Lemme know if you’d like a continuation or different one. ♥️♥️ please be mindful of my tags.

warning: stalking, creepy behavior, obsessive behavior, jealousy, gaslighting, manipulation, breaking and entering, just be cautious babe

Sweet Izuku who you meet on the first day of school, a stuttering, flushing mess. You two instantly click and he becomes one of your best friends. That cute and timid side draws you in, but his lighthearted and charismatic personality makes you stay.

Sweet Izuku who becomes your best friend within a year, you don’t remember a time your best friend wasn’t around. From the first day you were placed in Class-A with him, he’s been stuck to your side—like glue. Super glue. He’s easily the kindest to you, always bringing you your favorite snacks, picking you up drinks from the vending machines. Always willing to tutor you on classes you struggle with. He even helps you identify weaknesses and strengths to your quirk. Constantly complimenting you—your quirk, your resilience, your pretty appearance—

Sweet Izuku who has a stellar reputation around school as the shy, timid, and polite boy. There wasn’t a single person who’d say otherwise —he was just a sweetheart through and through. You’d never guess how he subconsciously flips a switch when it comes to you. The one who was always so sweet to him. The one who trusted and respected his hard work more than anyone else before you. He couldn’t help the way he stared at you. The way his mind seemed to drift to more inappropriate thoughts. Not that he’d let you find out.

Sweet Izuku who developed a significant…infatuation with you. The nights you’d invite him over for movies or gaming sessions always resulted in him stealing something of yours. Last time it was a pen. This time, your hoodie. Next time he’ll work up the nerve to take the first lacy thing that crosses his path. You’d always been so careless—something he found immensely cute. He’d gotten over his initial fear of being caught, especially when you never seemed to notice your items going missing. You always trusted him. He already has a history of being a thorough fanboy—so don’t doubt for a second that he has a camera roll filled with thousands of pictures of just you. Notebooks dedicated to you.

Sweet Izuku who becomes increasingly more obsessed with you. Following you around wherever you went, gaslighting you—or the people around you to stay away. ‘I heard he was a creep—what? That’s just what I’d heard!’ Wanting more and more of your time—spent alone. It was so difficult to confront him—his more reserved and flustered nature making you feel almost bad. You wouldn’t have a single accusation leave your lips before he’s damn near tearing up. Yes—it’s impossible to confront him for something you can’t 100% confirm. Especially not with the way your heart clenches when you see his waterline fog up. So you do the next most reasonable thing.

Sweet Izuku who realizes you’re pulling away, manipulating situations that seemed more plausible. Showing up in more places coincidentally. You’d go to hang out with someone, finding him already there. Manipulating your conversations so you’d feel more reliant on him. Reeling in his praises and compliments when he spoke to you, especially when he noticed you seemed concerned for his lack of interactiveness. Did you do something wrong? He’d made sure you were his best friend after all.

Sweet Izuku who gets caught sneaking into your room in the dead of the night. You’d been sleeping but, surprisingly, you’re now wide awake. He’d been standing over your bed staring down at you with an impassively blank, scary face. The only light source being a moonlit background. ‘Izu? W-what’re you doing here?’

Sweet Izuku who breaks down, dropping onto his knees, and immediately confesses his unyielding devotion. He’s loved you since he first met you—loved you since you’d become joined at the hip. Loves everything about you. You’d been scared to see him in your room—only realizing now that he wasn’t in his right mind. How did he even get in? The doors fucking locked. His past actions began to click into place, each one making more sense with every passing second as you stared into his desperate, misty eyes. ‘Izuku, please leave.’

come home

[natsarrownecklacx]

Come Home To Me

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count- 1,006

Summary- Natasha comes home, days late, from a mission. You let her know how much it affected you.

Warnings- Mentions of death, grief, mentions of panic attacks, happy ending

2K Follower Celebration

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3

“You’re late.” You say, watching as your wife walks through the front door of your shared house.

She drops her duffel bag on the floor, hearing your rough, scratchy voice. She doesn’t have to look at you to know you’ve been crying, but she does anyway, unable to keep her eyes away.

“Very late.” You add as she closer the door behind her, wasting no time in moving towards you to take you into her arms.

You step back, effectively halting her in her steps as you raise a single hand to signal her to stay where she is.

“Y/n?.” She asks and you can hear from her voice how tired she is. But right now you don’t care. You don’t care how tired she is. You don’t care that she looks hurt because you took a step away from her.

You can’t find it in you to care that you know all she wants right now it to relax in your arms.

“You’re late.” You say again, keeping your eyes locked on hers, your red rimed ones causing her heart to hurt.

Natasha can’t help but notice the slight shake in your hand, the one preventing her from closing the distance between you. The sight of it wakes her up a bit.

Shit. Natasha sighs. She’s late.

“You didn’t call.” You say, your hand being to shake even more. “You didn’t call and you didn’t text.”

“I know.” Natasha says, regret and shame filling her entire body. She should have been more thoughtful. She should have thought about how it looked.

“You didn’t send a message through any channel.” You say, your breathing starting to pick up. “You didn’t contact Fury. You didn’t go through our old network. None of your super hero friends knew anything. Clint didn’t even know where you were Natasha.” Your words come out fast, frantic, your voice cracking in between each word.

“I know.” Natasha says again, taking a step toward you.

“No. You don’t know.” You yell at her, the stress from the last few days catching up with you.

“I do. I’m sorry y/n-“

“NO!” You yell, cutting her off, fresh tears streams down your face. “You don’t know Natalia. You have no clue what I’ve been through the last few days because you weren’t here!”

Natasha stands silently, trying to keep her building frustrations inside. She’d just gotten home from a mission that ran three days longer than planned.

She understood your worries, of course she did, but if you’d just let her explain. If you’d just stop and-

“I thought you were dead.” You say, so quietly, as though it’s the first time you’re actually letting yourself take in the fact that you’d thought you’d lost her. You thought your wife, your best friend, the love of your life, was dead.

Natasha deflates. How could she have allowed herself to get so distracted. She was busy, sure, but she could have sent you a message somehow. Could have taken the ten seconds it would have taken to send a text to you or Fury or Clint.

She should have known better.

She sees in the second your knees buckle, the stress and grief of the last few days weighing you down all at once. The lack of sleep, the total lack of food and water. Everything hits you. It’s like you just switch off.

She rushes towards you, taking you in her arms and making sure you don’t hit the floor. You fight against her hold for a moment, trying to push her off of you and saying how badly she scared you. How besides yourself you were.

Natasha just continues to hold you and rock you in her arms, all the while whispering to you how sorry she is, how much she loves you and how she would never scare you like that again.

“I thought I’d lost you.” You say once you’ve calmed down a bit, your breath stuttering as you shove your face into the cook of her neck and wrap your arms around her tightly.

“I’m so sorry, darling.” She says, holding you just as tightly to her. She can’t imagine how scared you must have been, how heartbroken. “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

You pull away from her neck, taking her face in your hands and holding her as if you’re afraid she’ll disappear. Natasha feels she shake of your hands against her and puts her hands over yours, holding them against her.

“Don’t ever leave me.” You plead, your teary eyes staring into hers. “Never.” Natasha answers, staring into your eyes so you know she’s being genuinely.

“I love you far, far too much to ever leave you, my love.” She says, inching towards your lips, grazing them against her own. You release a shaky breath, allowing yourself to bask in the realisation that she came home to you.

“I love you too, Nat.” You whisper against her lips, moving forward to press against hers.

“Forever.” Natasha replies. “Always.” You whisper back.

Tomorrow the two of you would have a serious talk about what happened. Where she was, what you went through. How she would have to be more mindful when on a mission.

But that was an issue for tomorrow, right now the two of you just need to get into comfort clothes, get into bed and hold each other.

You fall asleep, getting some much needed rest, with her arms around you, the smell of her shampoo and natural sent filling your senses. It’s the first time in days you’ve been able to fully relax.

Natasha, even in her exhausted state, stays awake to watch over you. Makes herself take in the bags under your eyes, the tear stains on your cheeks, the thinner look to you.

It hurts her heart to see you this way, but she knows she caused this. Knows she has to be more careful, more considerate. She makes a promise to you and to herself then and there that she would never put you through this again.

And she never did.

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3

A/n- had this idea for a while, decided to finally write it, hope ye like it :)

[bejeweledblondie]

Miss Americana

Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader

Summary: After being crowned Miss America Y/N goes onto a military tour of bases to bring a morale boost to the troops

Warnings: innuendos, slight misogyny, I’m part of a military family so I’ll try my hardest to get make sure it’s somewhat accurate

“It’s you & me there’s nothing like this Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince”

Every little girl at least once dreams of standing on stage in a drop dead gorgeous gown being crowned the Miss America. For Y/N her childhood dreams came true when the rhinestone crown was put on her head. Ever since then she’s been constantly on the move. One appearance after the next, it was becoming exhausting.

While sitting on the balcony of one of the hotel rooms she was currently living out of her agent walked up to her, laptop in hand.

“So Y/N, we have a new appearance set up,” She started. “The USO has invited you to tour with them for their upcoming Summer Tour.”

“When does it start?” Y/N asked rubbing her eyes from lack of sleep.

“In two days, but in order to be able to make it we have to board a flight at the nearest airbase tomorrow.” Her agent explained. “So get some rest, & I’ll see you tomorrow morning at six am sharp.”

The next morning Y/N & her agent where off to nearest base to catch their flight. Other entertainers & celebrities were standing around luggage in hand outside of the C-130 aircraft. Slowly they all began to board & headed to their destination. The flight constantly had her on edge. She sat up against the wall of the aircraft gripping her seatbelt out of anxiety. The airmen on board explained they have to do a combat landing & that left her with jello legs.

Once the door to the aircraft opened everyone started to collect themselves & started to make their way off of the aircraft. One of the airmen offered to carry her luggage off of the aircraft for her, probably hoping to receive something in return. Military vehicles met them at the end of the ramp & everyone started to disperse to their respective vehicle.

Task Force 141 was just returning from an intense debriefing from a previous mission when they first got a glimpse of the beauty queen.

“Hey, get a load of that.” Soap called out making everyone’s head turn around. He spotted the young airman carrying Y/N’s bags. “Poor lad thinks he’s really going to get laid.” He chuckled.

“Hell I’d carry her bags, you see the legs on that bird.” Gaz whistled as they watched her walk to the Humvee. A groan collectively erupted from the men as she bent down tie her shoe, giving them a clear view of her cleavage.

“Steamin’ Jesus.” Soap exclaimed licking his lips.

The only one who stood in silent, arms crossed & hiding behind his skull mask as always was Ghost. He was equally as surprised & turned on by the sight of the attractive woman. It’s not often that in the middle of Afghanistan on a military base that a very attractive young woman appears. The place was typically a sausage fest. He noticed how the light reflected off of her hair, & the slight bounced of her breasts as she walked. Suddenly, there was a tightness in his crotch area & uncomfortably shifted around.

Y/N climbed inside of the Humvee, & the airman who she learned was name James closed the door for her. With her agent in the backseat the soldier that was driving them took off. She noticed the base was really isolated. Just industrial buildings & military equipment. “It must be quite boring here,” she thought to herself. Soon enough they pulled up to the barracks they’d temporarily be staying in. Once she was settled in her room, & showered there was a knock at her door. It was her agent.

“Get ready & dressed. We have a tour of the base in a hour.” She stated. One hour later there Y/N sat in the back of the Humvee looking around as the soldiers in the front conducted the tour. They pulled up to a building, & she was handed hearing protection.

“This is our shooting range.” One of the soldiers explained. “We have special forces & operators from defense companies training here. We’d thought you’d might want to try your hand at shooting & why not with the best.” They followed the soldiers in & she could hear the loud pings of the bullet ricocheting off of the metal targets. She must’ve drawn some attention from the training because soon the air was filled with soldiers asking her for photos. A gentleman with a mohawk approached her, & asked for a selfie. His accent threw her off guard not realizing that international military personnel were also there.

“I had no idea there were other countries training here.” She said as they finished taking the photo.

“Oh sure lass, we have people from all over. Our team is mainly made up of Brits. I’m Scottish though.” He winked at her. “Let me introduce you to some of my team.” He held out his arm to her which she took & walked her over to where the rest of Task Force 141 was situated. “Lads!” There heads all turned, wide eyed with jaws on the ground. Ghost was in the middle of examining his grouping when Gaz nudged him to look up. He chucked & shook his head only Johnny would be able to pull this off. “This is Y/N L/N or otherwise known as Miss America.”

She looked around at them & waved. The large man in the skull mask caught her off guard a little as he loomed over his other teammates. Standing like the grim reaper himself. Noticing a change in her body language when she locked eyes with the skull faced man, Soap tried to play it off knowing full well how intimidating Ghost can be.

“That’s our guard dog, Ghost.” He chuckled. “What a peculiar nickname,” she thought. Both Gaz & Price walked up to her formerly introducing themselves. Price asked for a photo to send to his wife & little girl. Y/N whipped out an autograph card & signed it for Price’s daughter. She knew deep down how much these men missed out on a lot in life to protect her & others. It was the most she could do in the moment. Ghost still stood there admiring her kindness towards his Captain. He watched as she showed genuine interest in what Price was saying. His heart started to skip a few beats the more he watched her. From the way her clothing hugged every curve on her body, to her flawless pageant smile. He found himself feeling butterflies in his stomach.

She had expressed interest in learning how to shoot, & he immediately jumped at the opportunity.

“I’ll show her.” His booming Manchester accent echoing off of the shooting ranges walls. She walked over & introduced herself with an out stretched hand.

“Y/N.” She stated, his hand immediately engulfed hers. It had to at least be twice the size.

“Lieutenant Simon Riley,” He replied. “Ghost is just my call sign.” She looked up at him with the most beautiful big doe eyes he’s every seen. So full of kindness, love, & warmth. He went over the functions of the rifle he had in his hand & the safety procedures. She listened intently & couldn’t stop staring at his hands. His hands although covered in calluses & cuts there was something comforting about them. “I’m going to walk you through the first couple of times.” He explained shaking her out of her trance. She nodded, & he brought the rifle up to her body. Pressing his front to her back he helped her get situated into the right position. Simon felt that familiar tightness in his crotch as her ass pressed into his crotch. The friction of her shifting around didn’t help. His body eclipsed her small frame as he adjusted her hands.

“Alrighty love I’m going to turn off the safety, & when I do pull the trigger.” He instructed. A chill went down her spine as his voice vibrated through his chest into her back. Her finger pressed the trigger of the rifle down & the recoil pushed her body slightly back into Simon. A small smirk painted itself on her lips as she felt his erection poking her in the back. Once she finished the rifle’s magazine they both lowered the rifle. “That’s a good girl.” He praised looking at her grouping. She bit her lip turned her head to look at him.

“I know I’m a good shot.” She flirted with a wink. In that moment Simon knew there was no other woman in the world like her. She was insatiable.

[thegreatwizardelwin]

I Won’t Say I’m In Love - Part Four

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Joanne Harcourt x Male Reader

After the evening of the tournament, Harcourt needed some time to process his true feelings. Unfortunately, the Midnight Tea Party was set in motion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 “The Prefect 4 have been expelled?” 

All dormitories were buzzing the day after it had been announced. Everyone watched with a certain bittersweetness as the new P4 took their step onto the lawn.

Harcourt was too young to take over as Scarlet House’s prefect, so he returned to his regular student life. The memories of the tea party distracted him from his tendencies. He lost sleep over it, withdrawing from conversations more often.

It was something that didn’t go unnoticed by you. 

Seeing as his drudge duties were lacking for the time being, Harcourt resumed his library meets with you. He was practically falling asleep across the table from you.

“Harcourt, what’s the matter? You seem exhausted, are you ill?” you asked.

He lifted his head with a dreary expression.

“I’m alright.” he mumbled, flipping a page.

“No… clearly you’re not.” you said with a more certain tone.

He glanced up from the book with pleading eyes.

“Please let it go. I feel fine.”

You gave him a doubtful look, drumming your fingers on the table for a moment.

“Would you tell me in private?” you asked, lowering your voice.

He ignored you with an apologetic sigh.

What?

“Is it because Redmond got expelled?” you questioned.

“Not exactly, I’ve just been having some nightmares as of late.” he returned.

“What about?”

“Drop it, L/N!” he urged, his book making a light thwack sound against the table as he spoke with insistence. 

You blinked in confusion, your mouth open in surprise. You realised, whatever it was that was, it was stressing the hell out of Harcourt.

“Don’t push me away like that.” you retorted in a soft tone. “I only want to help where I can.”

He acknowledged your words by averting his eyes.

“Come on, then.” you beckoned him up. “Let’s go talk.”

He defiantly made no move to get up. 

“You’re causing a scene, L/N.” he whispered.

“Oh well. That’s why we’re going to talk somewhere else.” you grabbed his hand and tugged.

“Ah-” he was pulled out of his chair. 

You led him out of the library and down the halls. Students stared at you as the two of you pushed past, hand in hand. 

Hand in hand? Scarlet Fox and Sapphire Owl?

You led him down a sparse hallway and into a music room. It was empty this time of day, instruments packed up and desks clear. Harcourt backed away from you as you shut the door.

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this!” he exclaimed, sitting on a desk. “I… I’m fine… I just need to get it out of my head.” he paused. “The nightmares, I mean.”

You sat on the desk beside him.

“You are obviously troubled by it though. You don’t have to hide your feelings when you’re with me, I wish you’d understand that! I’m not going to expose you or anything.” you emphasised. “Harcourt, if there’s anyone you can trust at this school, it’s me. I’d never hurt you on purpose like that.”

“Why do you always talk to me in that way?” Harcourt hid his face in his hands. “Like you’re coaxing a child. I know I can trust you, but aren’t I allowed to keep my secrets? Why do you need to know every detail in order to help me?” he raised his head and frowned at you.

“Well, I need to start somewhere! How can I help you if I’m not even sure what you’re really going through?” You groaned, leaning forward. 

“Why are you so dead-set on helping me? I don’t need it. I can manage on my own.”

“Why do you reject me when I try to help you?”

Harcourt rose and made for the door. You grabbed his forearm and he whipped around to face you.

“Stop it, just leave me alone! You cause me so much…” he trailed off, a lump forming in his throat. 

“I can’t just let you down.” you said in an even tone. “Not when we’ve come so far from the strangers we once were. You understand that we can have something meaningful, right?”

Harcourt scowled at you.

“Something meaningful? Is that why you kissed my hand?” 

“No! No, Harcourt, I was just being silly-”

“You thought it would be funny? To treat me like a girl?”

“That was not my intention, you should know that much.”

“Keep telling me how much I should know.” he pulled himself out of your grasp. 

Your hands fell to your sides. You took a deep breath.

“Harcourt… I know you’re intelligent. If you feel I do not treat you so, I can change. I just want you to talk to me. Tell me what you want from me and in return allow me the same. I would like to be beneficial to you. I would like to form a bond with you. I only worry that you would withdraw from me and never say what you really mean!”

Harcourt calmed down. He leaned against the door.

“You make me so confused.” he gave you a tired look.

You approached him and sat down beside him, leaning against the door. He slid down and drew his knees to his chest.

“I’m sorry.” you said with a small hint of guilt. “I don’t mean to upset you.” 

“You don’t need to apologise. It’s my issue if I can’t understand how I feel with you.” he replied.

You raised an eyebrow. What was that supposed to mean? You let it go. He rested his chin on his knee. It was painfully quiet in the room.

“We shouldn’t stay here too long.” Harcourt piped up. “Our friends will wonder where we ran off to. Furthermore we shouldn’t be seen alone like this; behind a locked door.” 

“Harcourt?” you glanced over at him. “Was it really that offensive when I kissed your hand?”

Harcourt looked over at you with discomfort.

“Don’t be improper.” Harcourt replied nervously.

“It is only you and me, please.”

“What, you want to do it again? Are you some kind of…” he held his tongue. He didn’t want to hurt you with his words if you were. He himself questioned it sometimes. 

You bristled, turning away from him.

“Would you hate me if I was?” you responded.

“No. No, I wouldn’t hate you for it.” he averted his gaze. “Are you?”

“I can’t control it, you know. I can’t control what my heart wants.” 

“I don’t even know what mine is trying to tell me. I wouldn’t know if it grabbed me by the arm and told me in the plainest way possible.” he stated. 

“A matter of the heart can be a gherkin. And not even a nice crisp one, it’s the type of gherkin that’s rubbery on the outside.” you commented.

He laughed shortly.

“You aren’t taking me seriously.”

“‘Course I am! You know what I mean. Sometimes your heart tells you something, but you simply can’t fathom it; that you could feel like that for a type of person. At first, you deny it. Then you try to avoid it. And… finally it bites you where it hurts most. And then you let it happen.”

Harcourt stared at you as you said that. Denial, avoidance, acceptance. 

“You forgot the uncertainty.” he added. “When the feeling is so unfamiliar or so forbidden that you don’t know what to make of it.”

You smiled a bit.

“That too.”

You locked eyes, a bit of comprehension of the situation being shared. He matched your smile with one of his own. Both of you quickly looked away. You bit your lip and exhaled quietly.

“I like being with you.” 

The sincerity of Harcourt’s words cut the silence like a butter knife. He thought back to all the laughs you had had. All the times you had made his cheeks pink. Every second of his classes he had spent wondering what you would say to him next.

You apprehensively took his hand in yours.

“I like being with you too.” you whispered back.

He closed his eyes, squeezing your hand.

“I think I’m starting to understand what it is I feel when I’m with you.” he stated.

“What’s that?” 

“I’m not quite sure yet, but…” he blushed, raising his hand to your face. “Perhaps if you kiss me again, I might grow closer to solving the mystery.” 

Your jaw dropped a little.

“Harcourt-” you cut yourself off, taking his hand and pressing your lips to it once more.

He smiled, as if he had come to some conclusion.

“I like that too.” he whispered.

You grinned, pulling him closer by his hand.

“I think we’ve come to an agreement.”

Harcourt leaned against your side, so many words left unspoken. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THAT. took FOREVER to write. 😓

also how did my mom get ahold of this-

“Oh, AN, you can do so much better than ‘rubbery’ and ‘gherkin’.” WHAT DOES THAT MEAN AND HOW DID SHE SEE MY DRAFT💀

@serve-corps come get yall food lmao 🌺

[britcision]

Happy WIP Wednesday friends! Not a huge deal for you today, but I figured I’d drop the Flashback and give you the last piece in the “Bruce Puts His Head In His Butt” for the night!

(Bruce is tranq’ed by Alfred minutes after the call ends and is put to bed. In my heart. He might actually walk himself up but we all know it’s Alfred’s glare that makes it happen)

Just a taste of chapter 14 of Dead and Loving It, you can find the fic on AO3 or from my pinned post which is the latest chapter, but links to the first and all subsequent chapters are in each post!

———————

A Good Excuse To Be A Bad Influence

Jason was actually on his way to bed on time for once in his life, the early end to patrol and lack of crime lord duties giving him a chance to get a full five hours sleep.

He should have known he wouldn’t get lucky two nights in a row; Constantine wasn’t around to distract Bruce anymore.

He’d contemplated not answering. Contemplated trying not to shoot Bruce in half an hour if the fucker showed up at his window.

The pit growled.

It was the worst thing he’d ever heard. The worst thing he’d ever felt. And he did feel it, vibrating in his very bones.

It sent shivers creeping up and down, muscles tensing as if to run away from something inside him.

He answered the call, hoping it wouldn’t show in his voice.

“What.” Flat, unfriendly. Not encouraging conversation.

“You didn’t come to the cave.” B’s voice was equally flat, but in his case it sounded like a condemnation. An accusation.

Jason gritted his teeth.

“I have shit to do in the morning. Make it quick,” he snapped, giving his bed a glare it definitely didn’t deserve.

His pillows had never done anything to hurt him.

There was a momentary pause before B audibly decided not to push it.

Good.

Jason was in a mood to bite.

“We have intel on the Infinite Realms. I’ve sent the report. You need to stay away from Danny Fenton, for your health,” B said, still cold, still clinical.

Like he didn’t care. Like what Jason wanted didn’t matter.

Jason’s grip tightened and the phone case cracked.

“Yeah, no. Fuck off.” He spat the words, adding “get new phone” to his list of chores for the morning.

He’d been doing so well with this one. Of course Bruce had to ruin it.

At least the old man didn’t seem surprised by his reaction.

“Jason. It… he. His abilities may affect your condition,” he said slowly, sounding tired. Old.

The pit snarled, sensing weakness, and Jason kinda wished he was still lost in its rage. Back when he was, it was easy just to hate those moments.

B showing signs of humanity fucking hurt.

“He is. He’s making it better,” he shot back, brooking no argument.

“We don’t know that, Jason. Please, just… just for a few days. Until we can talk to the League, understand what he’s doing to you.”

Was.

Was that Bruce begging?

It froze something small and soft in Jason’s chest, stuck him in place. And did nothing to stop the flood of icy rage from filling him up.

Filling his chest, crushing his lungs, making it hard to breathe. Because of course, anyone and everyone else’s judgement was worth more to the man than Jason’s.

Begging Jason to listen to him, when he would never, ever, fucking ever listen to Jason. When it didn’t fucking matter if Jason begged.

“And why the fuck would the League know better than a doctor from the Realms?” He finally snapped, ignoring the way his throat tightened.

There was a long silence.

“A doctor?” Bruce asked softly, his voice still so flat and emotionless that only his kids could have read the confusion. Jason rolled his eyes.

“Danny brought me to a doctor. I’m gonna be fine,” he ground out reluctantly, part of him resenting Bruce’s constant insistence on knowing everything.

But… well. If it got the guy off his fucking back.

There was a long silence, one that Jason was fully aware B was likely spending working this new information into his latest paranoid fantasy.

Jason seriously considered just hanging up and going to bed. He was about to do it when Bruce spoke again.

“Would this doctor be willing to speak to the League?” And there it was again, Batman voice, clinical and distant and always, always fucking suspicious.

Jason rolled his eyes harder. With emphasis. Willing to be interrogated by first the Justice League and then separately also goddamn Batman.

Actually, now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure B wouldn’t get anywhere with Frostbite. Frostbite took his work seriously and was, yeah, king of a full realm of yetis.

None of Bruce’s pointed silences, menacing looming, or vague growls would bug the guy who got Danny through Fucked Up Ghost Puberty.

(And would probably be helping Jason through his own Fucked Up Ghost Puberty… joy of joys.)

It might actually be fun to see him try. If just being here wouldn’t put Frostbite in danger, because hell fucking no that wasn’t happening. The guy may not be his king but Jason would still die first.

But of course, in all his paranoid bullshit about the Realms influencing Gotham, B had somehow conveniently missed what America was doing to the Realms.

Like Jason hadn’t even done the full write up.

“Not while the fucking League are required to hand him right to the US government for torture and experimentation. Which, by the way, did you read my report on the Anti Ecto Acts?” Jason asked sarcastically, doing his very worst fake concern.

And again he was met with silence. Fuck, maybe Bruce hadn’t read it. Jason had dropped it in the day before all this gala bullshit had started, and it had been a busy two days since.

Maybe B deadass hadn’t put the pieces together. Might as well hammer it home for him.

“You know, the one that says you, me, Cass, and Damian are all non-sentient because we’ve been exposed to the pits?” Jason added, eyes narrowing.

Which wasn’t technically true, since it was the resulting liminality and ability to process ectoplasm that made them count, but Bruce didn’t need to know that yet.

Finally he spoke again, voice gruff and clipped.

“I’m looking into it. But for now, Jason, please-” he said again, the cover of Batman beginning to slip.

But Jason was done. No fucking chance Bruce was giving him orders when he hadn’t even bothered asking for Jason’s opinion.

He wanted to spout off about dangers of the Infinite Realms after talking to some wet paper bag of a man who hawked his soul like it was a pokemon card. Hard pass.

And even after hearing that Jason knew what was going on a damn sight better than Bruce did, he still wanted to push him around?

Fuck that.

“Sorry B, legally non-sentient, guess I can’t be blamed for my actions,” he drawled, then turned his phone off and dropped into bed.

He had a lot of shit to do before picking Danny up in the morning.

——————-

Jason will be using “legally non-sentient” as an excuse long after the laws themselves are repealed, and just you fucking wait until Damian hears he can try it too 😏

Sorry Bruce, Damian can’t socialize today, he’s legally non-sentient and can’t be blamed if he bites someone

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778

[lovelykhaleesiii]

a modern au aegond on whatever you feel like writing plss

modern AU Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader + Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader.

A/N - I’m just writing a modern!University AU on what they’d be like in a relationship.

Modern!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader

Aegon was skeptical about you initially, especially your feelings and attitude towards him, he really struggled to figure you out.

You both shared various classes together, although never really spoke to one another unless necessary for instance for group projects or class discussions.

This time was different however, this time it was a little more 1 on 1. You both had been paired for an assignment, and to be frank, you weren’t initially that keen.

Aegon had a notorious reputation around campus, and it was not one you’d much rather associate yourself with.

He was wildly known for being a troublemaker amongst both students and staff alike, from time to time being absent from classes, often you heard it was because he was too “hungover” to wake up.

And with the girls, he was known to be a major fuck boy. He’d often manipulate and seduce girls to bed with them, only to leave them hanging the next day. No call, no consideration, just complete ignorance.

You urged Aegon that you’d only meet up to work together in public places & most of the time it was the library. You’d convinced yourself he wouldn’t try anything in a place like this, but you were so wrong.

Aegon began his take on you, you could see right through his facade. Each time his attempts to “flirt” would fail, he’d get even more frustrated with you.

He’d make degrading comments, often as a “joke” he would rationalise.

“God Y/N, you’re such a bitch.” “Are you always this fucking stiff?” “Why don’t you let me loosen you up, beautiful, aye?”

That was the tipping point, as Aegon’s hand began sliding up your thigh, making the comment, you shoved him off viciously, as you began your rant.

In the heat of the moment you went on a tangent; although to sum it up. “How fucking pathetic are you, Aegon?! It’s beyond me how you’ve convinced yourself that you could ever be deserving of someone like me. You, you being the scum of the Earth, Aegon, I’d rather drop dead right here and now, than spend another fucking minute with you. You disgust me, and don’t you ever fucking touch me again, you fucking asshole.”

The last thing you remember was the shock & stoic face of Aegon, as you grabbed your belongings before storming off. You’d never felt so heated in your life.

At this point, no progress was made from Aegon’s side of the assignment & after the confrontation, you couldn’t stand the thought of seeing Aegon again. You’d arranged to discreetly spoken with the professor in charge, who reluctantly accepted your desire to split from Aegon and complete the assignment alone, after hearing that Aegon was lacking.

You wouldn’t have disclosed this decision to Aegon before hand. Although, once he’d found out he definitely took it to heart.

He didn’t realise how much his behaviour and attitude had rubbed you off the wrong way. You would be his waking up call.

Aegon would text you and occasionally try to call you. You’d ignore his attempts.

This pushed him to having to confront you face to face, which when he did he was actually quite anxious to do.

“Y/N please, I know I don’t deserve your time and day, believe me. I just need you to hear this.”

“Aegon, I have class, I-” As you tried to continue on your walk, you felt a tug on your arm, pulling you back into his gaze.

“I’m just really really sorry, Y/N. Whether you accept it or not is entirely up to you, but I couldn’t sleep, can’t think straight if I don’t apologise. Everything you said, i-it’s true. This feeling, this guilt, I’ve never felt this before. I really didn’t mean the things I said, I just say them because well I guess I just could.”

You hadn’t accepted his apology there and then. Although you could see the remorse on Aegon’s face. The guilt was really eating him up.

For the course of the next few days, you’d say hello, warming up to him which he appreciated, having some surprise on his face when you acknowledged him and a half hearted smile.

Aegon took the initiation to better himself. He distanced himself from his “friends” and even completed the assignment himself. He showed up to his classes, even the ones that “bore” him.

He began to have conversations with you, asking how you were and how your day was. And naturally overtime, you began to warm up to him. He took a keen interest in you.

He’d definitely spoil you with small things & remember key dates.

Eventually, you began to spare time with Aegon, showed up to social events with him. Your friends were skeptical of him at first, although overtime, he won them over also.

You supported Aegon with his studies as from time to time he struggled.

He was the first one to say “I love you” and he was extremely cautious with you the first time you were intimate. Although you assured him this time, it was different.

Aegon would definitely spoil you, taking you to the finest bars, restaurants that he’d been well accustomed to.

You guys would go on dates every weekend, just travel. Wherever you go, he goes.

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

Aemond would definitely be your rival in class, your competition. He didn’t know this, although in your mind, you’d have the goal to beat him in an exam or an assignment.

He was just as smart and competitive as you, he took pride in his work.

He wasn’t widely known across campus, although most people were intimidated by him. And to some degree, you yourself was also found him fearsome.

He didn’t really have many close friends, just a few acquaintances here and there.

He rarely was seen taking extracurricular activities unless it was some sort of sport, I could see him taking a combat sport as a hobby, which made him seem even more dangerous.

Often you found him isolated in a corner in the University library, immersed in a novel.

He would always notice you, although neither of you made the effort to exchange words.

Until one day, a novel you’d heard so much about that you were desperate to read was no where to be found.

“I swear it was available.” You asked the librarian whom was checking to see the book’s availability.

“I’m afraid it seems someone’s already borrowed the book, perhaps you can ask them to borrow it after they’ve finished.”

“Well, whom currently has it?”

“Aemond.”

Fuck, you thought.

You’d contemplated buying the book externally, although these novels and textbooks nowadays cost an arm and leg. Besides, it wasn’t a terrible thing to ask for something, it’s not like it was his to keep, right?

You’d been planning all day the right time to ask Aemond, seeking him out.

When the moment came, you’d blurted out his name, from across the empty hall, and instantly he turned. To some degree, you could sense he was surprised, and began walking over towards you slowly. You could feel the courage you’d built up during the day rapidly fade, and you were stumbling at your words.

“Yes, Y/N.”

He knew your name. We’ll of course he did, you had classes together, you’d mentally registered.

“I-I was wondering if after you’re done with reading that book,” you gestured, “I could borrow it after, if that’s okay.”

A small smile appeared on his face, and he began to nod his head.

“I have a better idea, why don’t we meet in the library and read it together, perhaps we can even discuss about it.”

You were taken back. Although he left you there, without even having your approval. It seemed it was more of an order than a request.

As if your body and mind had been taken over, immediately you rushed to the library after class, waiting for him in the usual spot you’d find Aemond.

He found that quite sweet, the small things he’d noticed you did. Overtime, you guys became quite open and close, discovering things about each other, that you’d never thought or realised.

Aemond was the opposite of what you’d envisioned in your mind, he actually cared, or essentially he cared about you.

He’d disclosed things he’d noticed about you that you didn’t realise… He was watching you.

“I was always curious about you, Y/N. Just never thought the interest would be mutual.”

He would recommend you his favourite novels, and would passionately discuss them with you after having read them.

He loved the stimulating conversations you’d share, he found you so intriguing.

He would start to show his affection naturally. Putting his arm around you as you walked around campus, and after introducing your friends to him, they immediately warmed up to him.

He’d definitely give you his jackets or share his coat with you, as you both read.

You’d lay on his chest.

The more you become comfortable with Aemond, he becomes comfortable with you. That’s his way of showing how he trusts you.

He’s always chilling at your dorm more than his own.

Coffee dates becomes a tradition for you both.

[writing-for-life]

The Annotated Sandman—Random Nuggets #12

Whenever we discuss an issue in our community, I finish off the week with a few tidbits of information from Leslie Klinger’s Annotated Sandman. So far, I’ve only posted them to the group (you can find the previous ones up until #11 collected under their requisite issue here), but I thought I’d change things up a bit and also post them to my blog.

So here we go with some additional info about “Playing House”—these are direct quotes, but by far not all of them (just a small selection per issue)…

About Lyta Hall…

NG comments in his notes, "The focus is on Lyta in the doll's house, so her existence becomes a metaphor for women trapped at home, tranquilized." In the final script, NG admits: "I'm getting sort of nervous now. Having begun this episode, I suddenly realised what it was about and how to tell it and so forth, which means I'm going back and starting again with not an awful lot of time to go, telling the story from Lyta's viewpoint.

What had been bugging me about this storyline was that it didn't quite seem to fit into “The Doll's House”, which is basically an extended essay about the roles of people and houses, and also about the role and treatment and ignoring of women in contemporary society.

And as I wrote I suddenly realised that there was one character in the storyline whom I was ignoring—Lyta, 'the wife,' who had become almost a cipher in the plot, just drifting in the background vaguely. And what was so irritating about my earlier attempts to write episode 12 was that they lacked focus in terms of whose story this was—Hector's, Jed’s, the baddies, whose? And suddenly I knew it was Lyta's and all the previous worries I'd had about the story were gone. To be replaced by a whole new set of worries—basically, how the hell to get this written in time....

Lyta is a rich girl, a second-generation superheroine who went into the family business because it was expected of her. She got pregnant, then discovered her apparently dead girlhood sweetheart was not dead but living in the dream world, and only able to come out for an hour a day. She married him, and went to join him in the dream world, and since then... since then she's been living in his dreamworld. She never sees any of her old friends. She never sees anyone except him. She dresses pretty, but she's six months pregnant, and she doesn't think he loves her any more.

She's vaguely looking forward to the birth of her child, but it's been a few years, and even though she knows that everything'll be better when they're a family again, and her husband isn't quite so busy, she's beginning to worry that maybe the baby isn't coming. And she has everything she wants, she supposes, or she is told, but she never gets to do anything, except tidy the dream dome, and she feels and acts like she's been lobotomized.

She walks around numb and unable to feel or to think clearly. And although this is highly fanciful comics stuff, it doesn't take a huge leap to see how it relates to real life; everyone's met one or two intelligent, able women whose lives simply stopped when they got married.

Sometimes, as with Lyta, they eventually got thrown back into the real world, and had to pick up the pieces, and sometimes they didn't.”

What About the Other Sandman?

Kirby's Sandman uses a device, the Universal Dream Monitor, to watch over the dreams of humans. As the “Universal Master of Dreams,” he is able to enter their dreams. He carries a pouch of sand on his belt, to put people to sleep.2

"Mister Sanford" is Garrett Sandford, who in Wonder Woman #300 (Feb. 1983) reveals that he is the Sandman of the Jack Kirby series. (The character's origin is not revealed in the Kirby series itself, and the "d" from the original spelling of "Sandford" was, presumably, dropped inadvertantly.) Dr. Sandford headed a sleep research project at U.C.L.A. There he created a "Dream Monster" machine that enabled him to "read" the dreams of participants in the project as they slept.

When the President of the U.S. was entrapped in the Dream Dimension, Sandford rescued him but was unable to return from the Dream Dimension. The government sent him the Universal Dream Monitor, and he took the identity of the "Golden Age" Sandman created by Wesley Dodds (see 1.18.4–that’s issue 1).

Adam West’s Sandman… or was it Batman?

NG comments in the script, "Incidentally, I just realised, my whole sort of mental casting for Hector Hall is Adam West playing Batman in the TV show, delivering really dumb lines as if he believes in them 100%."

About Hector Hall (and Lyta)…

Hector Hall is the son of Carter Hall (the Hawkman) and Shiera Hall (Hawkgirl), Golden Age superheroes.

As a child, he played with Lyta Trevor, daughter of Fury (see 11.5-5–that’s “Moving In”). Hector attended U.C.L.A. with Lyta, and they dated and eventually married. Hector was cursed with the doom of his parents and became the Silver Scarab, eventually fighting Infinity, Inc., the organization of superheroes that he and Lyta helped to organize; he died in the battle, with Lyta bearing his child.

Who Watches the Watchmen?

In this and the following panel we can see part of a slogan on the wall, "Who watches the.." Of course, “Who watches the watchmen?” (originally drawn from Plato's The Republic and the Roman poet Juvenal) is famously the slogan of Alan Moore's pioneering Watchmen.

She is Fury, After All…

"Lyta has thrown herself at the Sandman," comments NG in the script. "She is, as I remember, terrifyingly strong and fast."

NG continues, "Lyta has crashed into the opposite wall. What's actually happened is she's gone straight through the Sandman. He hasn't moved except to turn to look at her. She obviously hit the wall fairly hard, with her shoulder, and is on the floor."

[wordstrings]

Understanding Harmony

Critical Role: Bell’s Hells. Ashton and Imogen take a watch after the events of episodes 33–38. Written for @feather-aesthetic for the Squealing Santa 2k22 fic exchange. Prompt: playful/bonding situations. Words: 1,500

—

“I just…” Imogen’s voice hitches with a tiny, incredulous laugh that lilts and wilts into something almost sad. “Just can’t believe she’s back.”

Ashton stares into the fire for another moment before dropping their eyes to the twig they’ve been fiddling with between their knees. 

“Crazy, huh?” they say, for lack of anything more intelligent to add. 

Imogen twists her fingers into a loose fold of her skirt. The fabric tightens across her hands, a smart pair to the tension still visibly lingering in her body. 

“It’s not supposed to happen. Bringin’ someone back from the dead. Though, I guess, for Laudna… maybe it’s not so strange. I don’t know.”

“No, it’s weird,” Ashton assures her. The nubby end of one toothpick-thin branch snaps under their thumb. They roll the broken bit between their fingers. The tiny splintered end is sharp. 

“I never… never would’ve thought I’d see somethin’ like that. That I’d be part of that. Y’know? Heck, I just thought I’d be spending the rest of my life staring at fields and feeling alone. It’s just… a lot,” she finishes quietly. 

“Being alone isn’t so bad.” Saying it is almost habit. It’s true enough. 

The firelight catches in the glance Imogen darts their way. “Feeling alone, though. It’s different when you don’t really have a choice.” 

Ashton shrugs. “Not much different, in my experience.”

There’s a gentle scoff in Imogen’s voice when she says, “Then why’re you stickin’ around with us, huh?”

“Because Letters needs people.” It’s just as quick to surface, just as habitual. 

“But you don’t.”

Ashton knows a jab, even in the dark. The retort is already in their throat, clambering on the back of their tongue. But they swallow it, because Imogen isn’t coming after them, not really. They don’t have a ready-made alternative response, though, so they focus on the splintered nub, trying to crush it between their fingertips. It’s too small and just digs in, a tiny hard granule of dead wood.

A soft glow leans toward their mind but doesn’t quite enter. Ashton braces internally anyway.

“They’re pretty important to you,” Imogen says aloud, instead.

Having someone important is dangerous. That’s how stupid decisions get made. Case in point: letting a complete stranger put them all under so they can go fight the spirit of a necromancer in order to yank a not-quite-living, not-quite-not woman out of a tree-shaped manifestation of her trauma, or some shit. 

But then Ashton is caught completely off-kilter when Imogen continues: “What the fuck is up with that?”

Ah, fuck them, but it works. They crack a laugh.

Imogen laughs quietly along, too. It’s something shared, and it evaporates the murk that’s been crowding Ashton’s throat. 

“Somebody’s gotta look out for ‘em,” they say with half a smile. “Otherwise Letters would end up trusting some pack of fools hell-bent on getting dead for each other out of some poorly-advised sense of integrity.”

“Out of all of us, I think FCG is the only one with integrity, sometimes.” Imogen’s grin has seemed to soften her, as well. “They take good care of us. So do you, y’know. You both make a good team.”

Ashton does their best to skirt the compliment, but there’s still some warmth that surges up unattributable to the campfire. Riposte. “Can’t talk about a ‘team’ without looking at you two.” They tip their chin toward the sleeping form that is Laudna, with an empty gap at her side for only as long as Imogen’s on watch. “Closest I’ve ever seen two folks who aren’t in each other’s pants.”

Imogen huffs softly. She rubs her forearm with one distracted hand. “Lotta people don’t get it. That’s fine, I guess. But she just… she saw me when nobody else really did. She knew what it was like. Keeping away from people, feeling like connections were impossible. Laudna was the first new person I got physically close enough to touch in… god, in years. That kinda messes you up after a while, doesn’t it?”

It’s said rhetorically, but her tone clearly expects agreement, and Ashton isn’t inclined to agree. Being messed up: sure. One hundred percent, all day every day. Being messed up because nobody’s holding your hand, or lying close while you sleep, or filling some sort of sappy hug quota: nah. 

They settle for responding with a noncommittal grunt. 

“It was the simplest thing,” Imogen continues, smiling wistfully down at her hands. “Just touching my elbow to draw my attention to a flower. Handing me an acorn cap or a dead worm or whatever she was decorating her next little doll with. Her hands were always a bit cold but it was still soothing when she’d hum to me, like this.”

Imogen side-leans in just a bit, and it’s a testament to how far Ashton has relaxed with this group – for good or for ill – that they don’t duck away from her approaching hand. Her fingers alight on the back of their neck, gentle as a songbird, as she begins to hum a folksy, unhurried tune.

The touch on their nape drifts back and forth with the cadence of the song. Ashton doesn’t recognize the melody, but it’s easy to imagine it tells a story of land remembered or beauty witnessed. Imogen’s fingertips are… fine. Ashton wouldn’t call them soothing. Wouldn’t really call them anything. Their skin doesn’t register much of anything duller than a slap, so the fire-heated warmth and pressure of her hand is barely notable. But, they suppose, it could be nice – for a person whose body is not constantly, quietly ringing with the ache of pain. It’s yet one more luxury that Ashton is not permitted to experience. It would feel unfair, if they weren’t just used to it.

Imogen’s humming trots up and down in scale as she reaches some chorus line. Her fingers shift, tapping nails in staccato on the back of Ashton’s neck with the time.

Ashton’s shoulders pull slightly inward. Okay, they can feel that a bit more than the softness of fingertips. Kind of itchy.

Doesn’t seem like Imogen is paying any close mind, though. She’s gazing into the campfire again, her head canted gently in unseeing reminiscence. The chorus ends and her fingers fall back into drifting touches with the next wordless verse.

This is so foreign. 

Not hanging out with a group, or even having a low conversation in the night; it’s this kind of interaction, this connection, with someone who’s sharing something beyond job-related banter or a clipped story. Apparently Ashton is going to be treated to a full song with tactile accompaniment for no reason except Imogen wanting to give it.

The second verse ends. The chorus picks up again.

Shit, that really does itch when she does that with her fingernails. But, like, a shivery itchiness. It makes Ashton’s belly clench up a little. Especially when the nail tips drag short little lines in a wave pattern up and down their nape. An involuntary shudder trembles through Ashton’s neck and shoulders, but what’s so remarkable is that they don’t want it to stop. 

Imogen must notice, because her humming bobs with a light chuckle. But she doesn’t stop the song. She carries into a third verse, this time keeping her nails gliding. 

Ashton would feel teased, except for that glow leaning against their mind again. It still doesn’t push in. Rather, it rests against the doorframe, watching kindly from just outside; a sentinel, careful and attentive. 

This is so, so foreign.

But fuck it feels… good. And that’s a revelation as much as everything else about this interplay. Ashton’s not thinking about the ever-present, spine-deep ache in their body. Not thinking about when the enjoyment might be soured. Just listening to a friend’s gentle music while fingernails dust sparks of static across their skin.

The hummed song dances off its by-now predictable path into a melodic bridge. Imogen’s nails skitter up and down with the notes, out in wider arcs and spirals, tapping and scraping along Ashton’s scarred, calloused skin, and it’s just– fucking hell, it tickles. 

Ashton can’t help the way they hunch even further at that realization. They’re fracturing into laughter before they have any hope of getting a grip on themself.

Imogen’s mental glow warms. It’s okay. It’s okay to sit here and snicker, to crane up one shoulder and then the other in conflicted attempts at protection, to grin and squint and squeeze their fists between their knees and just feel something good for once.

It’s okay.

The tune winds its way back to the notes Ashton now knows by heart, turning reflective and peaceful. Imogen’s humming slows, as do her fingers. She caresses long, gentle lines with the edges of her nails. Ashton’s eyes fall closed, though they still chuckle and shiver through their sighs. 

Maybe this is soothing, after all.

[anoctoberpepper]

this day and the one after that (Terry & Grant)

tw: mentions of suicide Terry wipes his hands on his pants before knocking on Grant’s front door. He’s recently moved in with Marco into a small house in the middle of the safest suburb they could find in their price range. It’s a nice step on the way to the proposal Terry knows Marco is working toward. 

There’s no movement inside and Terry wonders if he should knock again, he doesn’t know how far into the depression hole Grant’s fallen or how hard that means he’s sleeping. He has his own set of keys if it comes to that, but he would rather Grant meet him at the door. 

He’s about to knock again when he hears shuffling, a soft pat pat pat of socks on wood.

Grant unlocks the door, then the dead bolt, then the lock above the other two that he specially installed while Marco looked over his shoulder with his unfailingly in love stare. 

When Grant opens it Terry does a full scale run down of the situation. Unwashed hair, crumpled pajamas, sock feet, watery weary eyes. He doesn’t stare too long at the muscles on his arms, the ones he’s had since bench pressing in a panic at fifteen. He wonders if Grant’s done any kind of physical activity in the last week. Terry knows it makes him feel better, but he also knows his favorite sparring partner, Lark, is in Florida, which isn’t helping with the whole depression thing. 

Grant’s not okay. Terry knows he’s been flailing back and forth for a while, but the last two weeks has been extra rough. He had his first panic attack at his new library job a week ago. He was mortified at being mentally ill in his place of work. Also it’s allergy season, Chelsea lost some kind of playoff, and he’s starting to suspect that Marco’s planning to propose. Grant’s freaking out about commitment and is eating himself alive about not being good enough, and Marco– god sweet Marco– wants kids and despite all evidence to the contrary Grant thinks he’ll be a terrible father. Terry can’t understand, but empathizes. Terry wants to be a father so bad. His long term girlfriend and him want kids and are falling apart bit by bit every time it fails. He worries that the only thing holding them together is that possibility, and the thing that’s going to tear them apart is the lack of it. 

“Terry?” Grant rubs his eyes then glances around for a clock that’s not there. He doesn't have his phone in his sweat-pants pockets, and he and Marco, unsurprisingly, don’t have a clock hanging above their front door. “It’s one in the afternoon,” Terry says. “Thought I’d drop by to say hi.” Grant hums, clearly understanding Terry’s real reason for being there, but not energized enough to fight it. Grant knows he’s depressed, knows people will be checking up on him. Maybe somewhere deep under the belief that he doesn't deserve it, he appreciates it. Terry’s not here on a mission to pull Grant out of a week-long slump, he’s just here to prove that they all care. Even through the worst of it. 

Grant leans his head against the side of the door and Terry worries he might fall back asleep standing. 

“Brought you depression snacks and crosswords,” Terry says. He holds up the fresh book and bag of food he picked up from the grocery store on the way over. 

“Godsend,” Grant mumbles. He takes a moment, then pulls his head away from the door. There are two adorable lines on his forehead from where either side of the door pressed into his head. He stumbles backward and lets Terry into the house.

Terry tucks the book into his back pocket, a good move since just as it’s put away Grant slumps into his side, full body surrender. 

“Jesus.” The wind is knocked out of Terry, but he catches Grant around the waist and holds him up and tight against his side. “You’re ’okay,” he says. 

Grant nuzzles his shoulder. Terry gives him a second to ground himself, then takes a tentative step forward, seeing if Grant will follow suit, or if he just needs held. Grant silently steps forward. Terry takes another careful step. Grant slides forward. 

“Couch or bed?” Terry asks after a few more steps. He thinks he hears Grant mumble couch and confirms it when he sees a nest of blankets on the worn piece of furniture. Terry gets him to the edge and detangles Grant from his side so he falls with a thunk into the pile of blankets. Terry pulls some out from under his friend. Tucks the fuzzy one against his side, drapes the weighted blanket as high up on his shoulders as he can manage. Grant leans his head onto the back of the couch.

“Don’t have to be here,” Grant says. Terry takes it for what it is, the obligatory depression stance, that he’s not good enough to be loved. He’ll get through this too. He’ll Come out the other side feeling loved again. 

“Want to be here,” Terry says. He grabs something out of his grocery bag then leans forward to press his head against Grants. “Love you.” He feels breath come soft out of Grant’s nose. Feels the heat of his forehead pressed against his. Alive, Terry thinks to himself. Alive. 

He puts a hand up to Grant’s cheek, then grins and says, “brought you chocolate.” 

He leans back and drops a hershey bar on Grant’s lap. Grant hums happily, but doesn’t move to pick it up. Terry goes into the kitchen to throw pizza bites and chicken nuggets into the air fryer. 

Grant hasn’t moved to open the chocolate when Terry gets back.

“Eat,” Terry prompts. Grant fumbles for the chocolate, eyes still shut. His fingers don’t grip the wrapper in the right way, drops it after two tries.

“Feel like shit. Ter,” Grant says. He looks like days worth of sleeping and crying. Looks like he might cry again. It’s not the depression that gets him most of the time, it’s the days of it. He’s worn down slowly by a lack of caring, or desire to move and do things, and the grey matter in his brain refusing to fire enough to make memories and love happen. He’s fighting against an unstoppable and very real sickness. 

“Just your brain,” Terry says. He takes a few of the blankets out from around Grant and sits down at his side, close as he can get. He takes the chocolate from Grant’s lap, easily opens it and breaks off the top row to hand to Grant. His friend nibbles the side, eventually takes a full bite. Watching him eat is exhausting. He barely chews, just lets the chocolate melt on his tongue, before taking another languid bite. After the first row of chocolate he pulls his head off the back of the couch and blinks a few times. Terry hands him another row.

“You want some?” Grant offers. 

“I’m good.” 

Grant mumbles something, then leans into Terry. Terry wonders how much longer the food has, but doesn’t fret. The air fryer will turn itself off, and he’s got something more important to do. Mainly hold Grant upright until he finishes eating the chocolate. He snuggles in, pulls Grant against his chest, then nudges his chocolate back to his mouth before it can melt on his finger. Grant takes a bigger bite this time, actually chews. He waves away the next row of chocolate Terry offers and Terry relents when Grant says, “Just want to sit here.” 

Grant’s heavy and Terry can feel his breath through his t-shirt. It’s slow and solid and Terry is so happy to feel it. It’s so much better than the alternative Grant has toyed with and tried a few times. 

He rubs Grant’s back. It’s the best he can do, the only thing he’s been able to do since high school. Just sit in the thick of it. Feed him junk food that he can swallow and just be. 

It took Marco two rounds of meltdowns to understand Grant and Terry’s relationship, but he got it after a bit. Something more than friends, something less than what Grant and Marco have. Something that evolved from those few questioning kisses in the rocky confusing years in their late teens to something better and more solid than anything else Terry has ever experienced. Grant’s his. There are days they cling to each other like life rafts, others they push back, holding the other to higher standards. They demand the best for the other, force happiness on the other when they can’t muster the energy to fight for it themselves.

“Just gotta grit your teeth,” Terry says, “This’ll pass.” Grant knows it. Terry knows it. They remind themselves with words and hugs. This’ll pass, just like the last time this happened, and the time before that. Hold the grab bar, keep breathing. He presses his nose into Grant’s hair, reminds himself to get Marco to give him a shower tonight, a line Terry crossed only twice, desperate and at a loss. 

“We’ll eat some garbage food, and if you’re up for it, a walk around the block. No thinking, just you and me under the bleak-ass sun. One step in front of the other.” Grant nods into his chest. He will grit his teeth. He’ll do what Terry suggests on the off chance it moves the needle an inch in the right direction. Just have to get through the day, Terry repeats to himself. Then the next, and the one after that.

[eddysocs]

Before Her Eyes - Chapter Five (Time For Herself)

Summary: After a troubling night, Cassandra takes a well earned day off to rest, recuperate and plot her next move. A trip to Constance’s is in order.

Word Count: 2,054

Warnings: Mention and slight description of murder

Cassandra's night had been terrible. While Nora kept her promise about Thaddeus not waking her, if she was even still in the other room, she wouldn’t have slept a wink anyhow. Not after the nightmare. It felt so real, just like it was happening all over again.

Her phone rang. She picked it up to see the time on the clock was 4:44. No one should have been calling her at this hour, but she answered anyway. "Miss Reagan," the officer asked over the phone.

"Speaking," Cassandra replied, wiping the sleep away from her eyes. "What’s going on," she asked.

"I’d really like to speak to you in person," the officer said.

"Why, what’s wrong? Did something happen?" Cassandra was wide awake now, her anxiety flaring and giving her a rush of adrenaline.

"There’s been an incident, Miss Reagan. Again, I really feel like you should come in so I could speak to you in person."

"Just tell me," Cassandra demanded, raising her voice. It was if her body knew what was coming.

"Your family has just been found dead in their home. I’m terribly sorry."

Cassandra dropped her phone in shock at the news. She froze, hardly even blinking as she half listened to the officer's voice still coming from the dropped phone. She couldn’t go to the scene, but she felt compelled to anyhow. They’d probably already considered her as a suspect. She’d have to come in to the station to get the rest of the information. She later learned that the officer who’d called her had been a rookie, and that he’d been reprimanded for calling her at all. He’d found her number on the fridge. It was her new one that she had just given her mother the previous week.

She came into the station to be questioned, and that was the moment she’d first seen the crime scene photos. At seeing them, she screamed and cried until she made herself sick. It wasn’t real to her until then. It was no more than a plot to one of the horror movies she’d loved so much. It was worse than any horror movie, seeing her family like that. More blood and body parts than they were human anymore. The murders were visceral, inhuman, and Cassandra immediately suspected something supernatural was to blame.

She woke up feeling nauseous and was restless for most of the night after that. She maybe managed to get in about four hours, mostly before the dream, but that was nowhere near enough. At least she didn’t look as tired as she felt. She splashed some water on her face in the bathroom and took another look in the mirror. Time to start a new day whether she liked it or not.

She was going to take a day off from everything. She had an article to turn in the following day, but she’d gotten most of it done already, the rest could wait until she was able to stay awake enough to finish and proofread. Today was going to be about resting and refueling and figuring out where to direct her search next. She wandered downstairs and out to the kitchen where she caught sight of Constance’s note from yesterday. Bleary eyed, she picked it up and read it over again. Brownies sounded like the perfect way to start her morning and put her nightmare behind her. She didn’t put in a lot of effort to get dressed. She had put on a slightly oversized grey cardigan, a white tank top and black leggings before she came downstairs. No reason that wasn’t good enough.

Cassandra headed outside and made her way to Constance’s house next door. She breathed in deeply, hoping her lack of rest wouldn’t show on her face, then she knocked. She waited only half a minute before Constance came to the door. She still had her hair down and was dressed in a gorgeous silk robe. What time was it, Cassandra wondered. Had she come too early? "Cassandra, come on in. I hadn’t expected you so early." The two of them walked into Constance’s kitchen and Constance gestured for Cassandra to take a seat.

As Cassandra pulled herself out a chair she began to feel guilty. Perhaps she should have called first, or at the very least she should have checked the clock. And what was she doing here anyway, after the night she had. She shouldn’t be using Constance as an escape from her problems. "I’m sorry, I know it’s early, I just felt that I could use a little sugar this morning." Cassandra's cheeks flushed a light shade of pink when her choice of words sunk in. "I mean, chocolate. I had a rough night last night."

Constance brought out a plate of brownies and sat the dish in front of Cassandra. Taking a chair for herself, she turned it to face Cassandra's and placed her hand over hers. "That house has been known to keep people up. You haven’t let it get to you, have you?"

"No, it’s not the house. At least I don’t think it is. The house is quite lovely, actually. It’s just this thing I’m trying to take care of," Cassandra explained vaguely, not sure about how much she should inform Constance of at this point. "I’ve been working on it for years, and I just keep getting stuck," Cassandra continued to vent. It felt somewhat good to even get a little of it off her chest, even at the expense of keeping Constance in the dark.

"Tell me," Constance nudged, wanting Cassandra to feel that she could trust her.

Cassandra sighed heavily, considering her options. Constance knew about the house's history, was acquainted enough with the supernatural not to consider her insane, and she seemed genuinely concerned for her. So Cassandra began her story. "Six years ago my family was killed. There was no trace of human evidence found, not even the slightest hint of someone being there. It was horrific. The police declared it a cold case almost on sight. I have been looking for some explanation as to what could have killed them ever since. It may sound crazy, but I don’t think it’s human. All signs point to something supernatural. But, I have to know regardless. I have to be able to let them know that I found the answer so they can rest."

Constance laid a hand on hers and it felt so reassuring, so comforting. She hadn’t told anyone this before, aside from her old mentor and of course Simon. It felt like the weight of the past six years had been lifted off her shoulders, not removed, but it had undeniably lightened her load. Sure, Constance may want to send her to an asylum now, but it felt good to say it out loud to someone other than her cat.

"I can’t imagine how awful that must have been," Constance soothed. Cassandra had received many such sympathies and she thought they’d lost their effect over the years, but something about Constance was so genuine that she didn’t feel like her words were empty ones.

"Thank you," Cassandra said, filling in the appropriate response as if it were second nature, though she actually meant it this time.

"So how did your meeting go yesterday," Constance asked. Cassandra had almost forgotten she’d even told her about it at dinner two nights ago.

"It answered one question but brought up a hundred more. That was one of the reasons why I didn’t sleep last night," Cassandra told her.

"Well you’re welcome to stay here today for as long as you like. Get away from the house, those books, all your worries."

"Really?"

"Of course, dear. It’s the least I could do."

Cassandra summoned up a weary smile in thanks. Maybe she could do with a day away. At least a couple of brownies and a nap. Go back later, refreshed, finish that article she had due and figure out her next move. That sounded nice. As for Simon, Moira could take care of him. She’d done a good job picking up her slack as it was.

Cassandra helped herself to a couple of the richest brownies she’d ever tasted, praised Constance endlessly for her baking skills and then asked if it would be alright if she took a nap. Constance happily obliged, showing Cassandra to her guest room. "Take as long as you need. I’ll be around the house all day."

Cassandra thanked Constance for what felt like the hundredth time that morning and her overtired mind finally allowed her to easily drift off to sleep. It was nearly two in the afternoon before she woke up. Cassandra walked out of the guest bedroom feeling a lot more rested than she had when she got there. Constance was puttering about in the kitchen, now dressed with her hair up the way Cassandra usually seen it. It looked good both ways, Cassandra thought.

"Oh, you’re up. I was hoping you’d be up in time for a late lunch. I put it off as long as I could."

"You didn’t have to do that," Cassandra said.

"After the dinner you gave me the other night, I had to repay the favor." Cassandra could hardly argue with that, and whatever it was smelled good, so she sat down for lunch. The two women got on as they always did, pleasantly conversing with an air of flirtation in the mix. Cassandra was starting to see herself really falling for Constance. A relationship, however, was not something she thought she could balance with all of her other pressing work. She didn’t even know if she could consider this a relationship yet.

After lunch, Cassandra felt ready to head back home. "This has been exactly what I needed," Cassandra told Constance. "I really can’t express how grateful I am to you for letting me stay here and clear my head. I mean it."

"You’re welcome anytime," Constance said with a smile, and it didn’t sound like just a simple pleasantry. Cassandra thought that Constance may have actually meant it. Cassandra smiled back and picked up her plate of brownies. Constance gently, yet intentionally grabbed her wrist and stopped her exit. "I mean it," she insisted. "Anytime." Then Constance leaned forward and gently kissed Cassandra on the cheek. So maybe it was a relationship after all, she thought to herself as she closed her eyes, letting herself just be in the moment. The heat only crept to her cheeks when Constance pulled away. With a shy smile, Cassandra bid her goodnight, and began the short walk home.

"Oh, Simon, I’m home," Cassandra singsonged as she stepped into the foyer. Taking the brownies to the kitchen, she looked around for the cat, who appeared out of nowhere when she stepped into the kitchen. "There you are," she said, bending down to pet the animal. She sat the covered plate on the island, poured Simon an early evening meal and took off for her library. It took her only half an hour to polish up her article and submit it. That was one thing off her to do list. Now, where to go from here, she wondered.

Stepping over to the shelves upon shelves of books, Cassandra disregarded the tomes on demons, having pretty much ruled them out thanks to Mr. Norrange. Nothing seemed to call to her save for Phineas Black's book. She pulled it from the shelf and sat it at her desk. She cracked it open, intent to begin some more reading, but she couldn’t concentrate. Maybe she’d save if for tomorrow and look at it with fresh eyes. Today hadn’t been for work, not really. She should keep it that way for the rest of the evening.

"Come on, Simon, we're going to watch a movie," Cassandra declared. She rose from her desk and advanced towards the living room with a purpose, the cat, who'd joined her after his meal, now trailed behind her. Picking a classic B-movie from her small collection, she popped the horror flick into the DVD player and hit play. And that’s where she spent the rest of her evening and night, with the occasional break to pick up a snack, until she and Simon eventually fell asleep together on the couch.

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Chapter Four <- 💜 -> Chapter Six

[jodilin65]

SUNDAY, AUGUST 31, 2014 Andy really annoys the shit out of me with all his pics on Ask that include jokes and comments about race. I’ve told him a million times I’m sick to death of hearing about race, but it’s like he doesn’t give a shit. I know he has serious memory issues, but come on, how many times do I need to tell the guy before it sinks in? Maybe my lack of commenting about it and checking into Ask less often will drive it home, if my suspicions are correct about him trying to annoy me. If he is trying to annoy me, though, then that kind of tells me something about his character that isn’t very good. True friends shouldn’t deliberately annoy each other like this, should they?

Still worrying about my health/medication issues and still trying to tell myself that I’m not going to drop dead and that sooner or later it will be resolved. I just don’t know how or when. Either way, it’s not easy to just tell myself this just like I couldn’t just “tell” myself the sky is really neon yellow with hot pink polka dots. No one would ever have a negative emotion or concern in the world if it were that simple. Instead, I’m trying to keep as busy as I can to distract myself from focusing on it too much.

I’m still 99% sure one of these drugs was responsible for the anxiety attacks, and as Tom and I agree, we need to get the doctors to consider how I feel and not a bunch of numbers on a blood test. Remember, when I first went to the doctor it wasn’t because I felt bad, it was because my body wouldn’t respond to diet and exercise and I wanted to know why. I also hadn’t had a check-up in a million years.

Meanwhile, I still have my various aches and pains – a funny feeling on my tongue, irritation in my throat, neck pain, mosquito bites, head rushes – and I still wonder if I’m under some kind of new curse. I broke the money curse, though, and I’ll break this one too, if I have to. Really, I just want a day without aches, pains and worries! Just one day.

Since everything is thrown off when you’re not treating hypothyroidism, my period is late, not surprisingly, but that’s nothing. Why do women have to get periods beyond their childbearing years anyway? Even if I’d been as fertile as a rabbit, no one can get knocked up at 48, almost 49, years of age.

Last night at 9:30 I heard a guy shouting somewhere in back. I couldn’t tell if he was pissed, drunk or scared, like something was wrong with someone or something like that and he was freaking out.

The lady across the street took off a couple of days ago for the holiday, and next door’s been quiet at least for today. They haven’t had company and they haven’t come and gone like they usually do, but I’m sure the garage activities, along with the daily outings will resume come Tuesday. I should be sleeping through most of it. I slept forever last night so I’ve got to start setting alarms to help hold my schedule till my appointment.

I woke up a few times here and there, as usual, and had a million dreams. I know I had a few that my dentist was in, but the only one I remember is her sending a letter saying she was dropping all patients who needed 3 or more shots of Novocain during procedures, LOL.

Why, though, do I dream of this particular doctor more than any other? Doctors C and D have only starred in one dream so far that I can recall.

When I think of people like Angelina Jolie, I don’t envy them for the reasons most people do, though I also admit I’m not a celebrity worshipper to begin with and haven’t been for nearly two decades now. I don’t envy Angie for her fame and beauty; I envy her for the money and support she has. I’d HATE to be famous and not be able to go to the freaking store in peace. I don’t care who knows what about me for the most part, or what people think of me, but I can’t imagine having to take bodyguards everywhere I went so people wouldn’t hound me. I also don’t care about my appearance as much as how I feel. But what I WOULD love to have when Tom and I grow old and are facing the end is more money and support than we could ever need like she has. I can’t imagine her ever not having enough money for whatever medical expenses arise, and between all those kids she has and other people she knows, I can’t imagine her not having more than sufficient support when she’s old, ill or dying.

I realize, however, that even if all my friends were suddenly in my town – everyone I know from the US to other countries – it wouldn’t be fair of me to count on them in the end. Those that were still alive, anyway. They’d have their own lives to worry about after all. But will we at least have money to hire the help we may need? That remains to be seen. Just because we’re doing ok now doesn’t mean we always will be.

On a more fun note, we made a huge Amazon order of both fun stuff and necessities. Bedding for the rats, Co-Q10 supplements for Tom, blue cushions for our stools, and a 200-dollar trimming package for all these damn shrubs and bushes. It would cost a million times more to have everything removed and gravel put in its place. Even just getting rid of our one tree would cost a lot more. So that’s why Tom got a kit with a pole saw so he doesn’t have to climb dangerously high to trim branches. There are 8 tools in all, and we have 5 months to pay for everything.

I got patchouli wax melts, a small brass erotic figurine, and a bigger erotic one that’s painted.

We started painting over the kitchen wallboard design with a sunny shade of yellow and were disappointed to find it was much tougher to do than we thought. We knew it wouldn’t be a quick and simple job just because of all the damn edging involved going around counter baseboards, cabinets and the window, but the surface is basically the same material as the unpainted paneling. We’re just not getting good coverage with a brush. We need to pick up some mini rollers. Tom’s going to grab some stuff tomorrow.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 30, 2014 Took my statin for the first time in days at 5:30 pm. An hour later I figured I’d be just fine. Sure enough, though, at 8:30, I was just finishing up a movie I was watching when it got me. My head rushed with dizziness and then a few seconds later my heart ramped up into the 120s.

I ran and woke Tom up who’d just fallen asleep and said, “Holy shit, she may’ve been right!”

“Who may’ve been right?” he asked.

“One of my longtime followers. The older lady I told you about.”

Fortunately for me, the attack didn’t last long and I didn’t have to take a chill pill. Makes me wonder, though, just how long it would’ve gone on had Tom not been around to help calm me down.

So I messaged Tammy to see if she’s heard of any connection between anxiety, racing hearts and all that shit, and she not only didn’t know I was on statin drugs, but she confirmed that yes there is, even though the biggest complaint with that drug are severe muscle aches. She also said that if anything the statins are more likely to be causing my side effects than the levothyroxine.

To me, the statins both do and don’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense that it would take 5 months to get me, although some side effects are a long time in coming from what research Tom did. He didn't find anything that linked anxiety to statins, but did find that it can deplete your body's Co-Q10 over time (Tom takes Co-Q10 supplements so he's not as tired). It can also mess with your memory.

All I know is that all this medical drama is really starting to get to me. I'm tired of the stress, the worrying and the depression. I just want to enjoy my life! All I know is that I’m not taking shit till I see the doctor on Wednesday, then I'll decide from there what to do based on what she says. Worst case scenario I give up on this shit altogether. Sometimes the best way to solve a problem really is to throw in the towel and just not deal with it. I’d rather not because that’s still asking for trouble. The question is which one will give me the most trouble, especially in the near future. If I’m going to have a sudden heart attack and die before I know what hit me in 10 years, I’d rather that than suffer now.

Tom still thinks it's a combination of things causing it and not just one single thing. We know I'm prone to tachycardia cuz other things have raced my heart out before. I was once on theophylline for the asthma back when I smoked and that made my heart race along with the various inhalers I was on. So it doesn't take much to get my heart going.

So Mommy Dearest has the early stages of esophageal cancer. She emailed Aly to say that she was pissed that Molly broadcasted the news to the whole world and is shutting her Facebook account down and kicking her offline yet again. What’s creepy is that she emailed her at an address she KNOWS Molly isn’t aware of. I always did think she was a stalker and wondered how many of my my-diary accounts and other accounts she was able to hunt down and find on her own. Molly’s got to have gotten her crazy, stalkerish ways from somewhere.

Cancer as a whole may be a shitty thing, but it’s hard to really feel much sympathy for such a mean old bully who was almost as bad as her own daughter. It’s in its early stages, though. She’ll live.

Went to Goodwill and Michael's earlier and that helped take my mind off of things for a while. We got several fun things and it all cost less than $25. I got a mug with pink flowers, silver and clear acrylic gems for the base of one of the fake palms, a large shiny gemstone that can be used as a paperweight, and a very shiny bracelet. You know I love shiny, colorful things!

On the way back there were about half a dozen kids playing in one of the bigger common areas not close to our house. They were all about the same size and age of maybe 5 or 6. I’d have been so pissed if I were in one of the surrounding houses because that’s just so mainstream and so not what I think of when I think adult community. It was the weekend and they were visiting, but I still wouldn’t have liked it even though their screaming would’ve been easier to block out with sound machines than car doors. Car doors really vibrate the place with a jolt much in the way slamming an interior door does.

Speaking of kids, someone at work was selling cookbooks for their kid and I wasn’t too thrilled with Tom for getting one. For one, the workplace isn’t the place to sell things any more than school is an appropriate place for religion when there are churches for that. Secondly, neither of us cook! I can see wanting to support kids and their schools and all that, but I still think he should’ve passed it up.

I never could get into cooking. Not only is it too hot here most of the year for that, but most recipes require so many ingredients, some of which I dislike like lemon juice, salt and pepper, and there’s a lot of measuring and counting, something I suck at. Tom’s better with numbers and he likes salt and pepper just fine, but he doesn’t like a lot of things in general. He hates chicken and fish. He’s not a fan of vegetables either unless it’s potatoes. So even dishes like beef and broccoli would be out of the question.

Had a shitty dream last night. In one we were still living with Jesse who was suddenly starting this new job and anxious for us to move all of a sudden. I told him it may take 2 to 4 months and asked if he was going to kick us out. He seemed like he was considering it and I was following him around the land as we talked, only the land in the dream had several small ponds on it.

Next thing I know Tom and I are homeless and supposedly “voluntarily” trapped in a loony bin. Because we had no place to go, they were going to kill us. At some point in the dream, I found a cell phone on the floor and struggled to try to remember Tammy's number. I wanted to call her and get word to her about what was going on. “Nobody will ever know what happened to us if I don’t,” I said to Tom.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 29, 2014 Getting more nervous as my doctor’s appointment nears. I know it’s silly and I shouldn’t. It’s not like I’m going to be sentenced in court for something. I’m just going to see if I can get help adjusting my medication or not.

As for people and body parts annoying me, I had a scratchy throat and heartburn last night (heartburn is also connected to hypothyroidism), but the feeling of a lump being in my throat went away.

It was still a bit scratchy when I got up, but a throat lozenge helped with that. I considered breaking my levothyroxine pills in half and starting that tonight along with the statins, but IDK. I’m so afraid to treat it and I’m so afraid not to, even though I went years before I even knew about this thing.

Anyway, all was quiet next door till they took off shortly before 11am. Not long afterward I went out on my bike down and up the steepest hills in the park. I love coasting down that hill! It’s like a giant slide or a mini rollercoaster. Other than having to break for speed bumps, I just let the bike pretty much take me down the hill. I did a shortened version of my usual route. Not just because I didn’t want to overdo it, but also because I didn’t want to burn either.

I was a bit surprised to find my heart was doing 147 when I got in, but it dropped quickly. Then again, I have fallen out of shape a bit since this shit with the side effects has caused me to slow down the exercise.

So I’m lying in bed to catch my breath and relax a bit before tackling the laundry when I hear subtle movements outside. “Let me go see if they’re back already, or if I’m losing my mind,” I thought to myself, and sure enough, they were already back. It’s cooler today too, and this means an extension of the garage activities. I’ve heard a bike pump and a vehicle door slam, but all other sounds have been drowned out with rain and thunder vids.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 28, 2014 Once again, quite thanks to my 80-something neighbors who have more energy than your average 20-year-old, I am in the laundry room to escape whatever the hell it is they've been doing in that garage of theirs. I just can't figure it out. There doesn't seem to be enough stuff in there to organize in the first place. It's a single-car garage, so it's not very big. They can't be renovating it to use as another room since it's not climate controlled, and I doubt they'd want to always have to keep their vehicle in the carport, but this is really getting old. They have a right to do whatever it is they're doing, but I have a right not to hear it, don't I? She asks me if I can hear them doing their laundry at 6am, then gets noisier??? I don't get it.

I just worry they're going to start waking me up as I sleep later. If I keep hearing a lot of movement over there for another week or two, I'm sure they won't mind my asking what's up. That way I can get a sense of what's going on and if it's to be a regular thing. I just hope he's not getting into some kind of woodworking project, cuz that's likely to be an ongoing thing if he's going to try to sell whatever it is he makes or something like that. I did hear something running while in the master shower and then some hammering from the laundry room, though I do admit that could've been from anywhere.

The rooms that face their place are the master bed and bath, the kitchen, and part of the living room. The kitchen, living and dining area are all one big huge area with the only "divider" being the bookcase and counter.

Later…

Had to take a chill pill last night not so much for anxiety but because I couldn't sleep. I took it just after midnight. I like this stuff way better than Benadryl and Melatonin. Benadryl dries my mouth and Melatonin breaks up my sleep for an hour or so and can give me a headache. The lorazepam doesn't make me sleep forever either and awake feeling rested rather than groggy.

Yesterday my ear/jaw started acting up and I took an ibuprofen. Figures I couldn’t go a whole fucking day without something, huh? Today I’m fine, though, save for a slight lump-in-the-throat sensation that could be anything. My thyroid couldn’t enlarge itself in just 6 months, and would push outward and not against my trachea anyway.

While I may feel ok, my mind still races with worries. How in the world can I ever get myself to just live in the moment? There is so much to enjoy in the present – big things, little things – but I’ll never be able to fully enjoy them as long as I’m worrying… will these doctors really be willing to work with me? Or will we have to start the whole pain-in-the-ass process all over again to find someone who will? I have more confidence in my PCP than in my endo specialist. My endo doc seems to not only lack compassion but she made it seem like my only alternative would be very hard to regulate. So I think that if anyone’s going to be stubborn and put up resistance, it would be her. It’s a business same as any other and they quite often want to do what makes them the most money as opposed to what’s best for the patient.

I just want to enjoy this upcoming 3-day weekend without worrying what health issues we may have now and which ones we may get later on down the road! For years it was anger issues, now it’s worry-wart issues.

Later…

I am sooo happy for my sister! The house has closed and her husband will be down to join her next week. Wish I could be there for the happy reunion!

I chatted with Nane yesterday and had to laugh at the shitty weather she complains about. She’ll be heading somewhere into the sun soon enough, she told me, but doesn’t know where.

Thanks to those who gave me the hair and toilet advice. :) One suggests draining the toilet bowls and soaking those stubborn water stain lines with white vinegar-soaked paper towels, and another suggests Damage Therapy Clear Hair & Scalp Therapy shampoo to help my thinning hair. She had chemo for a while and so she knows all about thinning hair. In my case, it’s caused by the hypothyroidism. The meds can add to it, too. Since we plan on replacing both these old shitters, though, I think I’ll let the water stains live on. I’ll remember it for when the new ones get build-up.

I was working on my story when it hit me - an earthquake takes place in the story… and then one wakes me up for real. Weird. Real weird. And it’s not the first time life has imitated my creative works either.

Last night I was reading about palm reading for the first time in a while, and following the illustrations and what they could possibly mean. I guess a long lifeline doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll live a long life. I asked Andy if he believed in palm reading. He saw one in 1991 after moving to Arizona and the palm reader told him I'd move there within 1 year. Well, I moved there June 9, 1992 and didn’t know I’d be going there till a week or two before I actually made the move.

I’m not sure that I believe in this any more than I believe in gods, ghosts and angels. At least not without some serious direct experience or some scientific evidence to back it up. Besides, even if I knew for sure there was a God, I still say it’s mostly an unfair and cruel one given all the atrocities and tragedies that occur in life.

I’m reading a really good book now called Fractured Persona where this guy in California gets in a car accident and goes into a coma. He awakens in some other guy’s body in North Carolina and is told his wife (who’s not really his wife) actually beat him unconscious. So now he’s got to go along with it so he doesn’t get thrown in the loony bin.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 27, 2014 Believe it or not, I'm in Windows for the first time since we took our laptop to Hawaii. Although it may have improved, it's still not as secure as Macs, so I gotta be careful where I go and what I do.

It's weird being back in Windows and takes some getting used to. There are a couple of features I do miss, like how you can customize colors easier and I like how it puts what's open in little icons down below so I don't have to zoom out to get to things like I do on the Mac. The two aren't really overly different once you get used to them. The X to close windows is on the right for Windows and the left for Mac, though on the Mac it's a red dot, not an X. Time up top on the Mac, down below on Windows…

Like most people, I was resistant to change until the Windows viruses drove me crazy enough to go Mac and be virus-free as we have since I won them in 2008. Damn, I miss winning! But that's a whole 'nother story. Another thing I dislike about Windows is having to turn the thing off before bed.

Anyway, this computer, which they gave him at work, is actually super nice. Windows 7 Professional, I believe it is. It's in the laundry room, which also has a built-in desk. The keyboard is a bit high, but hey, they just didn't anticipate computers like this in 1983 when our house was built. I'm "training" this computer to know and remember my sites. So it doesn't feel stuffy in this room, I put the fan on auto.

Decided I was feeling better enough and was ready to expand my bike ride a bit to something between the circle and going around the entire park. There are now 3 houses for sale on this street, so I noticed. The sun was blinding but my heart was fine. If it wasn't the meds beating the shit out of my heart then I'm not short. Sure enough, as I did my final loop around the circle, Bob was entering the garage from the door in back. That's why I'm in the laundry room on the other side of the house. My 80-something neighbors have simply gotten a wee bit too active for me during the morning hours. I'll be in here till around noon. I just can't concentrate as well on my work with them slamming doors over there like they have been. Tom thinks it's just that getting the new oven inspired them to clean up a bit and get organized and that they'll settle down soon. I hope so! I'd rather work in my usual spot than in here, though this is better than nothing.

I'm actually typing this up as a draft in one of my writing sites, knowing I can pick it up from my Mac and copy it elsewhere. I can do the same here, it's just easier than going through our network. I have to, though, to get at things like my story doc. I'll probably work on my story most of the morning. I'll still hear some things from in here like car doors and maybe landscaping, but nothing major. The lady in the house straight across from the window behind this monitor never goes anywhere and rarely has company.

I'm not going to post this till I'm at my main computer later on cuz I don't have an electronic reader installed on here yet and I like to hear my entries as well as read them with my eyes. I hate typos so I use the Mac's built-in reader.

Making some butterfly shrimp now and sharing sweet corn with the rats, not that I expect anyone to care, LOL. The few times I have gone to the rooms alongside next door's garage I didn't hear a thing. So they wait till I get an escape plan in action before quieting down? Well, part of my job requires me to listen and watch videos so I could really do without all the bumps and bangs, as sweet as they are.

Later…

Started to worry I had a UT infection when I noticed a burning sensation when I peed yesterday (and when I first got up), and had a cramp-like feeling in my lower right abdomen. I don’t think so, though, thank God. I sure hope not! If I do then I’m going to go from wondering if there’s a medical curse on me to believing there actually is one on me. I put some of that cream down there and we’ll see. I’m still burning a little down there, but no ab pain and no discolored piss or anything like that, so that’s good.

I’m actually more worried about Tom right now than I am for myself. He first got chest pains in 2000 that he thought were heart-related but then learned it was exercise-induced asthma. Well, he’s not only had chest pains but trouble breathing as well. One time we had to go home instead of out to eat because he felt dizzy. He tells me it’s nothing and that humans simply have aches and pains and it’s part of getting older and all that, but he would say that. He would downplay things so as not to worry me. Really hope it’s just that he’s been so busy and was simply a bit tired.

While they’re no longer going to be doing Saturdays, I have mixed emotions about the weekday OT which is a forever thing with this position. We love that it’s a lot of money, but I’m not so sure I like him working 45-50 hours a week. Yes, I like my solitude and having some alone time to concentrate on my work, but I’m not sure if I want this much space. It’s easier to deal with now that I’m feeling better, though.

Been feeling better and better. No jaw pain, no pounding hearts, no nothing. So yeah, I’m either going to have to get my dose lowered or go on something else. Decided that Friday it’s back on the statins. That way Tom will have 3 days off on the off chance there are any problems. While I’d certainly rather look bad than feel bad, there’s something unnerving about losing all this hair. My once large round eyes are now nearly swollen shut in a face puffy from having this thing, and my once thick hair is thinning big time, also thanks to having this thing. How can one disease affect so many damn things??? My days of thinking hypothyroidism was only about weight are long over. I’ll probably never be able to lose weight on a lower dose, but if they can keep me from feeling like my heart is going to explode and like I’m going to suffocate, I don’t give a shit. I can at least keep myself in shape with exercise. That’s more important to me anyway. I hate not being able to do physical tasks without getting tired or out of breath so easily.

Although feeling better physically, my mind still races with worries and concerns. Not as much as yesterday, but still, I really wish I could just get this medication thing resolved so I can get on with my life without the worries, doubts and questions! Again, I don’t want to ignore my health, I just don’t want to treat it in a way that makes me feel worse than the problem itself ever could. The only so-called positive thing I can say about untreated hypothyroidism is the lighter, shorter periods. I really thought menopause was setting in.

When I came out to the kitchen to eat something shortly before 10:00, I noticed it was quiet next door as I sat at the counter. In fact, today’s the exact opposite of yesterday. Yesterday I’d never think I was in an adult community.

Bob left right before 11:00 but didn’t make a point of slamming doors several times beforehand. He just got in the SUV and left. This will probably be the last run of the day and he’ll probably go inside once he gets back as it’s warming up out there. They are definite morning people. So I’ve climbed back out of Windows and into my Mac. If we hadn’t set the Windows computer up last night they’d still be annoying over there, no doubt.

To give folks an idea of the setup here, our house is 62’ long and about 24’ wide. There are streets going by both of the short sides and one long side. That would be the back of the house. The front of the house faces the back of next door’s place.

Wondering if we need a new toilet for the master bath. We plan to eventually replace both these huge, ancient toilets, but the master one may have to be replaced sooner. After you flush it and the water stops, it’s just below the water stain line I can’t get rid of to save my life. After a while, though, the water line has crept up above the stain.

In last night’s dream, I was God knows where/how suddenly in possession of the black bitch’s computer. I was curious as to what was on it and combed through it in a way I hoped would never be discovered.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 26, 2014 No racy hearts upon waking but I had a weird experience just after midnight. A strong, steady pain in the area where the jaw connects (by my bad ear) woke me up and I had to take two ibuprofen. It was almost like when I had an infected molar, though I have no cavities much less infections that I know of in that area. It really sucked. I hope it doesn’t happen again.

I am not looking forward to next door’s bumps and bangs for the next 6 hours. By 6:30 I could already hear movement over there. They are the worst they’ve been since we moved in just over a year ago and it’s no longer just about them coming and going several times a day, but about slamming doors excessively and bopping around in their garage doing God knows what. It’s just really distracting and annoying at times, but you know Tom and Jodi can never get neighbors who aren’t so active and outdoorsy. Thank goodness they don’t have a dog! The damn thing would either be barking in the door just inside the garage or it’d be out there with them going off on whatever. Meanwhile, the sound machine or sound videos won’t block the vibration of car doors and trunks being slammed, but it’ll block other sounds they make.

Rode a mile on the bike yesterday and my heart elevated in a good way. It didn’t forget to slow down after I stopped working out and was just sitting on my ass either. Even so, I’m up nearly 3 pounds from yesterday for a few reasons. I ate like a pig yesterday. I’m retaining water like crazy now. And my metabolism is probably coming to a stop again or pretty damn close to it.

I did have a slightly racy heart later on in the day yesterday for a few hours but never had to take a chill pill. I thought I might have to in order to help me sleep, but nope. Really hope balance can be achieved as others have encouraged me it can be and that it doesn’t take too long or too much more discomfort on my part. If my only choice were to go untreated vs. put up with such intense anxiety and such heart-pounding discomfort, I’d go untreated. We’re not talking a dry mouth or some slight itching here. We’re talking major, OMG side effects.

I was surprised to hear someone say they had their thyroid removed as a teen. Wow, that young? They slack off on their meds and often go a few months without taking it. They also say they feel no different on or off the levothyroxine, which they’ve been taking for 21 years.

I rarely get headaches, but had another one yesterday. Tom thinks it’s due to a lack of caffeine. I still have caffeinated coffee, just not as often as I used to. I haven’t wanted to have any when my heart would be racing.

Later…

Just after 8:00, the door slamming started next door, so I knew that within 20 minutes or so they’d be off on their first run of the day. Hopefully, they’ll both go out together cuz whoever stays behind gets to bop around the garage and annoy the hell out of me.

I don’t know how long they were out for, but after 9:00 the SUV was just outside the garage and then I heard something loud running that might’ve been a pump. Then I opened the door and heard old '70s music playing on a radio. That could only be heard when I opened the door, but it’s the first time I’ve heard music from over there. Their trash and recycle bins are right outside the master bedroom and I saw Bob dump something in one, then enter the back of the garage, letting the screen door slam shut behind him.

I’m just tired of all the projects! They’re going to end up waking me up if they keep this shit up. They will not go indoors till after noon - 1pm, especially since we’re having a mild spell. If they’re not moving, then what the fuck’s going on over there? I’m hoping they’re just cleaning out the garage and will settle down soon, but I have a feeling that they’ll just go right into some other project, just like Jesse would always do.

Shortly after that, they had company for a while that pulled up in front of their place. It looked like their son and DIL that stayed there while they were on vacation. They were even quieter than Bob and Virginia at their quietest.

I’m just sick of all this activity right outside our front windows! It seems no matter what the age, gender, race, family size, social/economic status, we just can’t get neighbors who aren’t so damn active and outdoorsy. Still, I shouldn’t have to hear a couple of people this often who are in their 80s and not attached to us!

It’s been getting down to 73° in here in the mornings. I keep the thermostat set at 78° Pretty cool for August. I love the savings this brings to our electric bill, but not the outside activity it stirs up.

Saw Virginia leave when the Tuesday landscapers hit the house across the street. I’m guessing she left Bob behind in the garage since I think he’d be driving if he were with her. Now that the landscaping is done, though, and the temperature is climbing, maybe people will shut up around here and give me some peace. I really, really feel like I’m back in an apartment when people get to slamming their vehicle doors like they sometimes do!

Andy said maybe they'll die soon, but I wouldn't want that. They're not THAT obnoxious. Besides, something worse could end up over there.

Virginia's back. Oh, please, please pull into the garage! That would tell me they're probably done coming and going for the day. Damn! She didn't. She's in front of it. So I guess they're either going out again, still working in the garage, or both.

Anyway, I wouldn't mind them getting a cold or twisting an ankle here and there, but they don't need to die. Then I could end up with a couple with their parents/in-laws that are not only always outside and coming and going like crazy, but that also have mutts and rowdy grandkids visiting. I certainly wouldn't want that!

Later…

The SUV disappeared from the carport, but amazingly I don’t know if they went out again or pulled into the garage. I’m just glad it’s finally quieted down. This has GOT to be the noisiest day since moving here. Not just cuz of next door, but there was landscaping in front as well as the common area up the hill. Wait till the leaves start coming down. Then they’ll be out there every day without fail, rain or shine, except on Sundays. I don’t know why, but they catch the leaves faster than they can fall.

On the bright side, my anxiety is now barely noticeable. The only anxiety I have now is about what the future holds for me. People say it can be worked out, but people also said it wasn’t the meds causing my anxiety, including my doctor, and they were wrong. Sure looks that way, anyway. I don’t want to not treat my disease, but I feel so much better that a part of me is tempted to never turn to the doctors. I doubt I’ll do that, but I’m still worried about what can be done without all these issues. If my only choice is to have such killer side effects that are a million times worse than the disease itself, then it’s not worth it. Maybe I can eventually take something that won’t make me feel so awful, who knows? I just wonder if I can ever take anything ever again without fear and without being hyperaware and wondering if every little thing I feel is connected or not.

Looking back on it now, I wonder if I really did accidentally double-dose myself. Maybe it was simply the onset of the side effects I was feeling. Guess I’ll never know for sure.

Tammy left a message on the MagicJack line but I failed to get an email alert. So I chatted live with a helper on MagicCrap’s site and they reset my voicemail for me. Once my account expires in a couple of months, that’s it. I’m done with them.

Finally remembering more of my dreams again. I was in a large house or building and was the only white person present. Everyone else was black. Like most of my dreams, they consisted of a series of “scenes” that made no sense all put together. In one scene I was with a woman and a guy in their 20s. The guy was vacuuming. This seemed to be an upper floor where there were many hallways, closets and bedrooms. I shut the closet doors he’d left open when he was done after he vacuumed them out. This was in some hallway. Then I stepped into a bedroom that may’ve had more than one bed in it. I walked up to one and placed a couple of small dolls on it that were kinda ugly and didn’t seem like anything I’d collect.

In another scene, a woman asked me in an accusatory voice if I told some young guy if his “favorite” person were to be visiting. I guess they weren’t supposed to see each other or something. I shook my head, no, and the woman walked over to me and pinched my forearm. I asked her what the hell she was doing and she said it was a trick she learned to see if people were being truthful or not.

Then I was sitting on a couch between two young guys who started smoking a crack pipe. It suddenly hit me that if they got caught I would go down with them, so I said I better leave. They said they’d leave instead. I said, “Good, go,” and playfully kicked one of the guys in the ass as he rose from the couch. He wasn’t too happy about it either.

Then I was afraid of what inhaling the smoke may do to me so I quickly headed over to a big set of double doors and thought I might go outside for a walk. It was raining really hard, though. I waited a while, then when I looked outside again it was snowing, leaving me stuck with a bunch of strange, moody druggies.

Later…

Someone in the UK thinks my jaw pain was cuz I grind my teeth in my sleep, and Canada’s sure it’s TMJ. Whatever. Just as long as it doesn’t keep happening!

Someone in the US, Cali, to be exact, really thinks Nane's trying to avoid her. She just peeked in on my blog, but still… why isn’t she answering my emails? Could she really be that busy or does she just not want to dump me but not really be friends either? Either way, why do we still have to play these games at times? If her heart really isn’t in our friendship, why can’t she just come out and say so?

MONDAY, AUGUST 25, 2014 Slept well and didn’t wake up with a racing heart. Haven’t taken the levothyroxine since early on the morning of the 23rd and have been better since yesterday afternoon after taking a chill pill.

I’m not 100% sure the levothyroxine was responsible for how horrible I’ve felt these last couple of months, but I’m getting closer. All I know is that the less I take of it, the better I feel. We don’t want to rule out the statins completely, though it’s highly unlikely they’re the culprit after 6 months on the same dosage. However, why it took two months after being raised from 50 to 75mcg of levothyroxine now makes sense based on the research Tom did last night. It takes that long for each new dose to work full force. I thought it took a few days to a week for the levothyroxine to leave the body, but it actually takes 2-4 months.

Those who have had their thyroid removed aren’t in danger until 2-4 months after stopping the levothyroxine, so one lousy week isn’t going to kill me. I’m not taking the stuff at all. Then come Wednesday or Thursday I’ll take the statins again and see what happens. Even my sister, who worked in nursing, thinks my levothyroxine dose is too high for my body.

At this point, knowing myself and my body as well as I do, I just don’t see how what I was feeling was any kind of psychological reaction any more than I think it was anxiety that wasn’t connected to the meds at all. But why didn’t the doctor see this?! I know doctors are only human, but still. If I wasn’t half this anxious when things were at their worst in my life, why would I be this way when they’re going great, no matter how much my subconscious may be conditioned to think I don’t deserve good things after so many years of suffering? I realize the doctor doesn’t know my life story either. Either way, I do like this doctor a lot. She’s not just a hottie, but she’s very nice and doesn’t make you feel like just another number like my Endo did, and so I’m hoping she’ll be willing to work with us (yes, I’m taking Tom in for extra support next time I see her which he’s fine with, and that way I don’t forget to relay anything to him), but if not we’ll get another doctor.

I continue to be a bit forgetful that I can’t even remember my dreams. The only one I remember from last night is seeing my dentist. Only she was a GYN and not a dentist. My hair and even my eyebrows are thinning big time and I’m still losing weight. These things are nothing, though, compared to how awful I felt. I’d rather be fat, ugly, old, dumb and poor yet healthy than to have it all while I felt like shit. I may have my anxious moments in life, but not to such a severe degree that I feel like I’m either going to die or end up in the hospital. I knew something was wrong. Never has there been a medication I’ve taken in my life with such horrible side effects. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to take a lower dose or something else entirely without worrying, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 24, 2014 Took my statin last night and felt just a little anxious, but not too bad. I took a chill pill at the end of my day more because I was having trouble sleeping than because I was anxious. I crashed just before 8pm. Then somewhere between 3:00 - 3:30 my heart booms me awake. My first instinct was heavy footsteps vibrating the place, then I realized it was my heart. So now I’m wondering if maybe the statins are to blame, though it seems unlikely they’d mess with me after 6 months, if there was still enough levothyroxine in my system to cause it, if it was just anxiety alone, if something was wrong with my heart, or several factors combined. I am so sick of the confusion, the questions and the what-ifs! Tom also tossed around the possibility that maybe my adrenal gland’s a little haywire and that’s what’s causing me to wake up with a racing heart.

Then Tom got up a little after 4:00. I told him what happened and shortly after he comes running into the room and asked what time I woke up. As I told him, I couldn’t remember the exact time. Pretty sure it was no later than 3:30, though. That’s when he told me a 6.0 earthquake hit the Bay area and wondered if I wasn’t perhaps startled awake and that’s part of what made my heart take off on a run like it did, but I don’t know for sure what time I woke up like I said. Besides, even if it was the quake, I’ve been boomed awake by my heart a couple of times before. Tom, on the other hand, is such a heavy sleeper, the epicenter could be right under his bed and he’d sleep right through it.

Although I haven’t taken lorazepam since being up, I have been anxious on and off all morning. This is truly frustrating as hell. I know I’m PMSing now and that doesn’t help, but still. This isn’t like me and I miss the old me! Both Tom and Tammy assure me it can be worked out, but how? And when? She says she’ll call later with tips guaranteed to help my anxiety. Well, regardless of what may be causing it, I’ll do anything. Anything that’ll work!

Tammy pulled out her nursing books and asked me some questions about my meds and what I’ve been doing and I filled her in on dosages and how I’ve been trying different things to get at the core of the problem. She still thinks the worst thing I could do is not take the levothyroxine at all and says I should at least take it every other day. As for the statins, I don’t know what to do. This indecision is driving me crazy. I can’t wait to get in to talk to the doctor on the 3rd! I’m just sick of this shit. Totally and utterly beyond sick of it.

Later…

Right now we have more money than we need and we live in a beautiful house with more space than we need inside a safe and gorgeous gated adult community. It both saddens and frustrates me to know I can’t fully enjoy my life’s luxuries, luxuries I had to do without for so long and never thought I’d ever get to enjoy again. I have had slight but obvious waves of anxiety on and off all morning and finally took a chill pill over an hour ago. Now I feel great and the only thing to keep me from fully appreciating that is knowing it won’t last forever. Any second the tornado will be back to storm through me with its vicious slew of yucky feelings, both physical and emotional.

It is definitely looking like it was indeed the earthquake that woke me up, though, and thank goodness I didn’t know beforehand an earthquake would wake me up as I can assure you that would’ve scared the living shit out of me. Same as if someone had told me before January 14th that I would be diagnosed with Hashimoto’s. I’d have been like HashiWHAT??? I’d never heard of it before, though Tom has.

Anyway, 8 people in my town have reported feeling the quake, so who knows how many others felt it that we don’t know about? Tom thinks it woke me up because I was just about due to get up anyway. I usually sleep the standard 8 hours despite not having a set schedule. I’m surprised Andy's mother and sisters didn’t feel it since they were closer to it. Hundreds of people in Sacramento reported feeling it and since I’m barely a stone’s throw over the city line, then yes, I probably did get earthquaked awake.

I still don’t know what’s going on with me and as Tom points out, I may never know. There could be so many factors causing this, but he isn’t worried because it’s nothing dangerous – no matter how lousy I may feel at times – and all I need is just minor tweaking to help me. I hope he’s right! I might have to go on full-time anti-anxiety meds, but at this point, I don’t give a shit. Whatever it takes. I don’t care if I have to live in a bottle of happy pills to stay calm and happy and I don’t care if I get addicted.

Tom and I went to Denny’s this morning. He got an omelet and I got steak and eggs. God knows we can afford it, though I went easy on the eggs due to the cholesterol. Pulling in almost $800 last week is much appreciated despite how tired he’s been and how shitty I’ve felt, and we felt we deserved a treat. We rarely dine out, but maybe just a few times a year. You never know how long you’re going to do well financially anyway, as I’ve learned. He’s made good money most of his life, but not all of it.

Not sure swapping in money problems for health problems is the better deal, but that’s just how it is. Strange how things turn out, though. In 2011 we were discussing ending it together so we wouldn’t starve to death on the streets. Now we could get a decent living room set with just one paycheck. It’s also strange, and sad, how one’s life can change in just a matter of minutes. One day I was going about living my life. I’d just made the bed up. It was 6:15 on the morning of July 9th. By 6:30, life as I knew it changed for what I hope isn’t forever.

Going to Denny’s always brings back funny memories of when Andy and I worked there back east. It wasn’t funny then, but it is now. We worked graves, and oh, the pranks we’d pull! I wasn’t always a very nice, considerate or patient person back then, and one night Andy noticed I’d been on break an awfully long time. “I’m not on break,” I told him, “I’m fired.”

Some guy was demanding ketchup like I was his slave and not his waitress when I was trying to go on break. He wanted it “right now.”

“Yeah?” I told him, “Well, I want a million bucks and I ain’t getting it. Life… you win some you lose some, buddy.”

Management – uhem – didn’t think that was a very appropriate way to handle Mr. Gimme My Damn Ketchup.

It was funny when Tom asked me something about how something was done there since “I worked there before,” and I was like, “I can’t remember half the shit that happened yesterday, so how am I supposed to remember 1989 unless it pertains to some stunt we pulled?”

It’s amazing I was able to eat my entire T-bone since the stress has been sucking up my appetite a bit. I nibble more than I eat lately. I guess it was just that good, though a bit tough, and it’s not something I have that often. I’m still losing weight, though very slowly. God knows it isn’t from working out cuz I haven’t been doing much of that. Been too afraid to, not wanting it to elevate my heart even more. Still, I’d take 100 pounds just to feel better!

Later…

I guess the quake’s epicenter was 6 miles deep and could be felt for 100 miles. 90 people have been to the hospital and tons are without power. To think that I felt my first earthquake and was awakened by it is both scary and exciting.

So many people have said that if they had to start all over again they’d never have kids because they are just so much work and money. If my rats’ could be as much work as they were this morning, I can just imagine what those with kids go through and am all the more glad I never had any. Yeah, these furry guys really made me work my butt off cleaning tubes, hideaways and burrows, not to mention changing the bedding itself.

What sucks is how winded and jittery I’ve become lately. I wonder if I’m falling out of shape due to a lack of physical activity. One of the reasons I like to keep working out, whether I lose weight or not, is to stay in shape. To be able to do things without getting tired or out of breath. I really should at least make a point of running on the treadmill if only for a few minutes a day.

Tom and I went to Raley’s because he needed cash and we got a few things there that we couldn’t get at Walmart.

Tom and I relaxed in bed reading together. Well, I read and he played a game on his tablet. I tried not to ask myself how I would ever again be able to take medication without fear. I had some back pain when I got up and wondered if I’d suspect the meds if I were still on them. I probably would. “Humans have aches and pains,” Tom reminded me, but his wife is very hyperaware now and questioning everything. God, next thing I know I’m going to be questioning a spot on the wall and wondering if it’s an alien come to study me from outer space. :(

SATURDAY, AUGUST 23, 2014 Doc Sexy has ordered me back on my thyroid pills. I awoke to a message from her saying she definitely wants to see me and to continue my thyroid meds till I see Dr. D. But why hasn’t Dr. D called with an appointment for me? I guess I gotta call her, and then there’s the thyroid ultrasound and blood work to deal with… argh! It just seems so much to deal with! :(

I feel guilty where Tom’s concerned. I feel like my problems are bringing him down. I don’t blame him if that’s the case. I just wish it would end. I want the old me back so bad. The one who didn’t have to live in the fear of her heart suddenly racing for no reason at all and feeling like she was going to suffocate or have a case of the runs.

I haven’t needed a lorazepam since I got up, and I’m trying not to think – what if the main culprit really was the levothyroxine and what if today’s the day I’d have gotten better for good but won’t know that now that I’m back on the meds?

So many fucking what-ifs and questions but seemingly never any answers! :( All I can do is hope I get through the day without any major anxiety. This should be the last Saturday Tom has to work for a while and they should be all caught up at work.

Later…

I want to once again stress to anyone who may mistake my forgetfulness for lack of caring or not paying attention, that that’s not it at all. If I didn’t care I wouldn’t bother with you. Memory loss goes hand in hand with Hashimoto’s as well as stress/anxiety, so please don’t take it personally, ok? I do care and I do try my best to remember things. If that’s not enough assurance for you then I don’t know what else I can do. I’m doing my absolute best to keep track of things here within my home and with those I connect with online. So please don’t insult me by saying I don’t care or pay attention. If you don’t know me better than that then you either need to learn what I’m all about or not be a part of my life. I don’t mean to sound harsh or offend anyone; I’m just telling it like it is. I’m doing my best!

No attacks yet today. Just the usual door and trunk slamming from next door. I saw Bob place a dolly in the back of the SUV. Shortly afterward, they both took off.

I’ve been listening to nature sounds on YouTube not just to drown out little distractions, but to see if it helps relax me. Either way, Tibetan bowls are just as pretty sounding, if not prettier, than wind chimes. One of the things I like better about the vids as opposed to the sound machines I have is that the sound machines keep playing the same short recordings over and over while the vids are multi-hour long recordings.

I still don’t know what makes me ok any more than I know what causes the attacks. I’m still torn between the meds and just a strange case of anxiety. Tom says I may never know and that it could be a spec of dirt on the floor for all we know, and that’s what makes it kinda scary. If I don’t figure it out, then how can I stop it? I just hope the fact that I haven’t needed a chill pill today isn’t because my meds are out of my system. It was only a matter of hours ago that I got Dr. C’s message telling me to continue them. I did, however, have a kiddy smoothie right before I read her message and took the damn pill. This may’ve blocked at least half or more of its absorption.

I just feel bad for Tom. His patience is waning, and not that I blame him or anything like that, but this only makes me feel worse. Feeling bad is one thing. Having it affect others is another.

Later…

My skin has been a lot less dry since returning to Curél lotion and using a creamy body wash instead of a gel wash. You would think by now I’d have learned not to deviate from what works.

I’m both thrilled and bummed to say I’ve been anxiety-free today. Thrilled for obvious reasons, but bummed cuz it only continues to scream “meds” even louder. Between now and the 3rd I’ll be composing notes to take to the doctor cuz I feel the more she knows, the more it might help me. I hate to think that the doctor was wrong while the patient was right but she doesn’t live in my body, after all, and hasn’t experienced my feelings firsthand.

The question is what to tell the doctor without giving her the impression I’m trying to defy her or imply she doesn’t know what she’s doing. Doctors are human too, and they make mistakes. I know this. But I also know that I’M the one living in my body and I know how I’ve felt, so unless I’m surprised with an attack, I trust my instincts and am leaning toward either not taking the pills at all, or taking it with a smoothie so that I get some benefits minus the killer side effects. If time keeps proving my belief to be correct, I really worry just what the hell else I can take. How can they treat me in a safe way? There are side effects and then there are side effects!

Next door had company for a while, presumably to show off the new oven. I think there was a pickup and a car at some point, but it’s been quiet for the last hour or so. I just wish they would make vehicle doors that close soundlessly with all the coming and going they do. I never met anyone in my life who didn’t want to take just one day off here and there, but I know that as annoying as it sometimes is, and as much as I don’t get it, that doesn’t make them wrong.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 22, 2014 Happy 54th birthday to Nane, wherever she is. I emailed her twice but haven’t received a response. I let her know it on her wall, but that post disappeared. I’m not in the mood to play tag games with her right now. I need to get myself better.

Polly didn't return to my blog last night. She must not want that cracker, haha. I included a picture of a parrot in the post and the famous “Polly want a cracker?” thing. Of course, if I hadn't made that post in her honor she would've been. My guess is she's Pauli. That was probably a nickname of hers. I'm also guessing she may've had an abortion when she was young and she was looking to see if I knew about it and mentioned it. If I'm right, though, I don't see why it would matter to her all these years later, but who gives a shit.

Later…

Here’s the latest health update, then hopefully – hopefully – I will soon be able to talk about other things more often because my health and emotional state will be under control.

First, I’m glad my birthday picture made it to Nane's wall and that she likes it. Messages and other things are screwed up there, as usual.

I know I’ve said some negative things about doctors in general in my recent posts and that I have trust issues when it comes to them and all that. They may be doctors and they may be intelligent, but they’re still only human, and well, human beings do make mistakes at times. It isn’t that I don’t think mine know what they’re doing or that I’m afraid to trust them, but I sometimes fear the levothyroxine was more responsible for my anxiety than they may realize. Now don’t get me wrong, it was probably a number of things feeding off of each other, as Tom believes. I don’t know if he’s right about my subconscious thinking we don’t deserve to have the great life we now have, or that my subconscious was telling me the meds were bad, but I do know that it’s looking more and more like the levothyroxine really did have the biggest play in the booming heart and intense negative emotions. We do usually know ourselves best and I can truly say that I’ve never had anxiety that extreme before no matter how shitty my life has been at times. It does make sense that some substance was influencing it. I don’t think the levothyroxine was necessarily 100% responsible but it may’ve been around 80%. It’s still too soon to say for sure what things had how much of an influence on causing the shitty feeling. For once, though, it’s definitely not money. For many years, when something went wrong, it was usually about money. Now I just feel like shit. Getting better, but still not 100%.

The first half of my day yesterday sucked. Even though I sure felt like I was going to die and I knew from a logical standpoint that I wouldn’t, it was still scary as hell. Like walking into a room and finding a giant spider on the wall. You know that spider isn’t going to jump off the wall and kill you but you’re still terrified.

I spoke with one of my endo doc’s nurses, and apparently, they all keep in touch with each other as to what’s going on. I didn’t know my primary care would know I stopped the levothyroxine until I saw her in January. I didn’t think I’d hear from the endo doc again either, but the nurse told her to tell me of all the horrible and even deadly things that could go wrong if left untreated (long term, of course, and not tomorrow or next week or even next month)… enlarged thyroid, nerve damage, coma, etc.

She also had a message from my primary care saying that I needed to see her. I will be seeing her on September 3rd, but I haven’t heard back from the endo doc yet. Although she isn’t always prompt, it’s too bad I can’t be flattered that they’re trying to get me back in cuz they actually care about me when it’s probably really about money. Who knows, though, maybe they do care. Still, I know I have to put my trust in them soon enough and get this dealt with. I even postponed the dentist and my ear doc for now since this is more critical.

So anyway, I woke up with my heart a bit racy and took a chill pill. As I feel better and better and more convinced it was the levothyroxine, I can now move on to my next worry and that’s what the hell else can I take that won’t cause me to feel so lousy??? Tom and Tammy both tell me not to worry and that all I need is a minor adjustment, but I DO worry. Sometimes, seeing is believing for me, and until I can see I can treat my Hashimoto’s without feeling like I’m going to die, I cannot fully rest easy. It is a HUGE HUGE relief, however, to be feeling better. That was one of the worst physical experiences I ever had, and it was no fun emotionally either. If I could suddenly know for sure that I’d never experience it again I just might crack up in tears of relief that’s how horrible it was. It’s one more thing to add to my list of traumatic memories, but I’d rather it be a memory than a reality. If another attack does get me later on (I have, after all, falsely thought I’d seen the last of them before), then that’ll suck too, cuz then it could be almost anything. I think Tom’s right, though. It isn’t just one thing. I personally think it was mostly the levothyroxine.

I’m worried for my sister who’s understandably worried for herself who has to see her pulmonologist today. A friend’s taking her because she doesn’t want her to go alone. That’s nice of her. If I was alone and all my friends lived in town, I wonder how many of them would offer to take me if I were in her shoes?

With the way medicine is so advanced today and advancing even more, I believe they will figure something out. Even if they can’t make her better, I think they can help keep her from getting worse.

The gel nails are definitely worth the extra money. Day 5 and I have just a few chips on the tips of 3 nails on my right hand while the left hand almost looks like it was just done. It’s good for if you’re going on vacation for a week or so and you don’t want to take regular polish and make touch-ups along the way. We paid $25 for a set of a color base coat and a topcoat, plus another color base.

Saw Jim again when I was out riding earlier. Yesterday I said hello to Bob while he was puttering around in the garage. They’re getting a new oven, so I guess that’s why I’ve been hearing him in there more lately.

Later…

Without Tom and Tammy's support and constant reassurance, which we all need at times, I think I’d either be dead or in the hospital. Words cannot express how grateful I am to them for their patience and compassion.

The good news is that Tammy didn’t say she had anything terminal when she left a voice message, but she does have a lot of scarring and inflammation along the wall of her chest. Her bronchial tubes are also messed up and I guess that means mucus gets clogged in them. They’ve got her on antibiotics.

As for my case, she says my Hashimoto’s disease is causing some of my anxiety (I never had attacks like this prior to the meds, though), but it’s nothing to worry about. I’m just an anxious person; anxious over the unknown, trying to get help, etc, but the absolute worst thing I could do is stop the meds. She thinks I should take it at least every other day. I still want to wait till I see the doctor, though, which is only a couple of weeks away.

She too, recommended deep breathing and pointed out that all meds have some side effects and that I just have to mentally overcome that (HOW?). She said she goes about her day without worrying if her breathing problems are going to act up and all that, but she’s tougher than me. I feel just fine right now but what’s spoiling my chances of enjoying it fully is knowing that any second, I probably won’t be fine at all. I’m just a wimp, I guess.

I woke up with a racy heart just before midnight and was fine till around 8am when my heart raced on and off for an hour or so. It sucked but was too soon to take a chill pill. I could take one now, but now I’m ok, so I’ll skip it for now. I just miss the old me!!!

THURSDAY, AUGUST 21, 2014 So I get up, check my blog visitor list, and wowee! There's my cousin Polly again after a looong time. But wait. Could that really be the one who never gave a damn about me as a child or as an adult? OMG, you mean now she suddenly gives a shit about me and what's going on in my life?!

But, but, but, if that were the case then why did she search for herself? The fact that she doesn't have the guts to contact me directly makes me wonder just what's going on in that little brain of hers. Not only did she search for her own self, but the town I grew up in as well, and a name I do not recognize. Oh, and she searched "abortion," too. Who the hell does she think had an abortion? T'wasn't me.

Well, folks, maybe someday my dear cousin will actually become brave enough to work up the nerve to contact me and tell me why all the sudden interest in my blog. Yeah… maybe…

Later…

I wish I could report that I’m all better now. No more racy hearts, no more having the runs, no more nasty emotions. But sadly, they’re still occurring on and off. My endo doc’s nurse called asking that I call in. I will later on. Guess she doesn’t want to give up on me. Or does she not want me to give up on her? I know I canceled the appointment in a distraught state, and it’s not like I want to throw my health away and give up on my health problems. I just needed to back off the pills to try to isolate the problem, but that’s just the thing, as Tom pointed out, there is no one problem. Yeah, the meds might’ve influenced the anxiety a little, but he believes that deep down my subconscious is causing my anxiety. He believes that because I was abused and conditioned to believe that I don’t deserve good things, it could be what’s stirring up this anxiety. Things are better than ever for us right now. I do get “suspicious” when things go well after so much hardship in the past, I will admit that, but on a conscious level I definitely don’t want to suffer, and I do believe that if anyone deserves good things, it’s us. I want to breathe easy and know I can treat my disease without fear. Tom also thinks that whatever I believe will make the anxiety stop. If I believe a new medication will do the trick, then it will stop. But that’s another thing I worry about; taking new pills and wondering what they may do to me. After 3 days, though, there may not be much left in my system, which would mean it was indeed much, more anxiety than the pills. That’s WHY I stopped the pills; to see if I could narrow it down at least a little bit.

I hate having to pass messages through nurses and not being able to talk directly to the doctor, but I will call the doctor’s office once they open. They also want to schedule my ultrasound that checks for any signs of cancer or enlargement of the gland itself.

I may put my dentist appointment on hold till I get all this other shit figured out. The thyroid and anxiety are way more important than my teeth.

I just want to feel like myself again no matter what I have to do to achieve it. But I also don’t want to get so bad that Tom has to jeopardize his job to help me. Tom said I’m his number one and he can always quit and get another job in a couple of months, and while that’s really sweet of him, I don’t want it to come to that. I don’t want to end up like Robin Williams, deep in so much despair and beyond help. I don’t think I will, though. I’m not suicidal. I don’t want to die. I just want to stop feeling like shit. That’s all I want. Anything after that is just a bonus.

As I told Tammy, I’d rather be struggling in Jesse’s dumpy old trailer and wondering why the hell I was gaining weight with diet and exercise, than feeling like such shit. Kind of surprised my weight hasn’t climbed since stopping the pills, but it’s only been a few days and it’s not like I gained a pound a day. Also, the anxiety is really lowering my appetite.

I felt so good for a few hours yesterday morning after he left, rode my bike, said hello to Jim along the way who was out on his walk, then boom. Just when I thought it might be over, I was later sitting at my computer when my heart ramped itself up. I had to take a chill pill. I slept ok, though, but as soon as I got up, sure enough, my heart was racing. The chill pills don’t make me perfect but they help.

For now, Tom and I agreed to send him quick updates throughout the day so I feel less alone. He reads them on his phone when he gets the chance.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 20, 2014 My day ended miserably yesterday and started off just as hellish, but first… prior to being diagnosed with hypothyroidism, I remember telling Tom that I wasn’t sure what would be worse… the doctors not finding anything wrong, leaving me to wonder why the hell I kept gaining weight WITH diet and exercise, or if they did indeed find something wrong. I finally decided it’d be best if they just told me my thyroid was dead so I could treat it and get on with my life without gaining any more weight. Well, they sure did, alright. Only problem is that while it did seem like a quick and simple fix at first – just swallowing a couple of pills – little did I know that I would develop anxiety worse than anything I’d ever experienced even when my life was at its worst. Like being with an abusive mother, stuck in state-run nightmares as a teen, jailed for a crime I did not commit, or poorer than poor itself.

I took the pills. I stopped gaining weight. I even lost a little, and a little is a lot at my height. But ever since July 9th, life as I’ve known it came to an end, making my weight seem like NOTHING. I still have random anxiety attacks that affect me both physically and mentally. Racing heart, feelings of suffocation, and just about every negative emotion under the sun only it’s intensified in ways I hope my readers can and will never comprehend. Nothing I do and nothing I tell myself seems to stop them and I can never know when they’re going to hit or how hard they’ll hit when they do. How severe will the panic be? How scary will it be? How much will I fear I’m going to die or end up in the hospital? When will it happen? I just can never know. The only thing I do know is that this is NO way to live.

I fell asleep at 1pm (I’m on half days/half nights right now) and could not stay asleep to save my life. I’ve always been known to wake up a few times throughout my sleep, but this was like every 20 minutes or so. At 4:15, I jumped out of bed with a racing heart and took a chill pill. Unfortunately, though, my anxiety escalated to full-blown panic before the pill could take effect and Tom left work a little early, even though he’d already done some OT.

In my state of panic, I questioned the off-chance of it being my heart and not just anxiety and he said that with all the doctors that have listened to my heart lately, that was not only unlikely but that I’d already be dead by now if it was. Hearts don’t usually act like that for months before they get you. “See, it’s calming down now that we’re talking and I’m not magic.”

I agree there’s nothing physiologically wrong with me in that sense, or life-threatening, but we’ve decided that the best thing to do is to put me in reset mode, so to speak, and let my body empty out of all its chemicals. I'm not taking anything but lorazepam when I need to relax and ibuprofen when I'm in pain, because that’s not part of this equation, as Tom pointed out. They do their job and then they leave the body. They’re not long-term like the thyroid and cholesterol meds. That’s why they took so long to catch up to me.

We now speculate it's not just one thing causing these horrible feelings, but possibly a number of things. Just the whole chemical overhaul and all that. We think that I simply made too many changes too fast and my little body simply couldn't handle all the drastic changes and that it threw my chemicals off. Sometimes it doesn't take much. So I am taking a week off from it all. A short time isn't going to cause my thyroid to kill me nor will my cholesterol jump that fast. I am watching what I eat and avoiding eggs and high-cholesterol foods for now. There are a few external anxieties as well, like not knowing what’s going on with my sister.

After a week or so, then we'll decide what's best to do once I'm in reset mode and all the drugs are out of my system. One way or another I've GOT to stop these attacks. They're crucifying in every sense of the word, having my heart race to 120 when I'm just sitting there and feeling like I can't breathe and going to die. The feeling of utter doom when my life is otherwise going great is truly debilitating and I'm determined to stop it whether that means going with no meds, different meds, homeopathic treatment… whatever it takes. I'd rather live just 5 more happy years than 30 feeling like this! It is THAT bad. All I know is I can't do too much too fast at my size. I may be 20 pounds overweight, but I'm not even 5 fucking feet.

As soon as I got up at 11pm, sure enough, my heart was booming in the 120s and I felt like shit. It’s going to take a week or so for all this shit to get out of my system. I’m just trying not to think, then what? Then what??? What if I can never treat my thyroid because everything throws off my chemicals and makes me a basket case? I’m trying to take Tom’s advice and take one day at a time without worrying about a week from now, a month from now, or a year from now. It took 4 hours but right now I feel just fine. But how will I feel in a few hours from now? That’s the scary question. I’m trying to turn those future thoughts off, but it’s not easy. One thing I can say for sure is that a part of me wishes I’d never even gone to the doctor in the first place. Ever. I would go back to living in poverty in a heartbeat to get rid of these God-awful feelings!

My mouth was dry all day yesterday too, but that was probably my fault for having too much soda and not enough water, so I’m making sure I water myself down today.

Facebook is fucked up AGAIN and Nane has been unable to see my messages, so I emailed her. I thought something was up. She and her family also vacationed up in "den Bergen." She said to check out the pics, but I don't see any on her wall. :(

What else… Bob was hammering something in his garage yesterday morning at 9:30. Then I heard what sounded like duct tape being unrolled, and then a vacuum. Really hope he doesn’t make a habit of making a racket, but that would actually be quite a luxury as opposed to these killer anxiety attacks.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 19, 2014 No racy heart in the shower. I knew that wasn’t right for my heart to go on a rampage just because I showered. It probably would a little bit if I took a very hot bath or got in a Jacuzzi, but not only was that not normal, I like my showers cooler at this time of year. The swallowing issues, eye and head pressure may not have been connected, though. Can’t say for sure. I’m still frustrated over the whole thing despite feeling better without the killer heart/anxiety issues. I’m going to miss having a metabolism. But I should’ve been TOLD and WARNED. My Gosh, how could my PCP not suspect the anxiety was connected to the levothyroxine? With all the complaints similar to mine? When I asked if there were any side effects she said, “No, it just may make your heart racy.”

The correct answer would’ve been, “It may make your heart race like hell, give you the anxiety from hell, knock your hair out, and maybe give you a few other minor problems. It could get severe enough that you can’t stand to treat the disease and will therefore have to ask yourself, which is the lesser evil, the meds or the disease?”

Like I said, I’ll treat the damn disease and take my metabolism as soon as there’s a way to do it that doesn’t leave me feeling absolutely miserable, but if it exists, I don’t know about it. I appreciate the doctor fixing my ingrown toenail and taking care of my female problems, but now I’ve got trust issues when it comes to doctors. I’ll talk to Tom some more when he gets up, but if he’s not overly concerned or worried over me not taking meds, then I won’t be either. So chances are I’ll be canceling appointments.

Anyway, I took a nap for an hour and a half late at night, which is a good thing because I got up earlier than I wanted to.

Day 3 and my shiny gold gel nails show not the slightest hint of chipping.

Gonna need to really back off the high-calorie foods – sweets, pasta, pancakes and other rich foods and stick to meats, fruits and veggies.

Later…

Canceled my appointment with my endo doc online, giving a brief statement as to why.

Gonna keep taking my cholesterol medication since not treating my thyroid is only going to raise it. Since I have no side effects from the simvastatin, why let my cholesterol levels get so high?

I don’t understand, though, why Tom thinks the side effects of the levothyroxine are coming from my subconscious. If that were the case, wouldn’t I have had side effects from the start? At first I thought it was just the stress of accidentally ODing, but then I found many others said their own side effects took them a couple of months to catch up to them, too. Mine came a couple of months after she raised my dosage.

In better news, Tom got a dollar raise!

MONDAY, AUGUST 18, 2014 Tom said he read an article about a news anchorwoman who’s had anxiety all her life. Her way of dealing with it was to become an alcoholic. That’s sad.

Tom also says I’m “stronger” than that. That’s sweet of him but sometimes I don’t feel that way. I am determined, however, to get through this one way or another whether that means ultimately taking anti-anxiety medication regularly, quitting my meds, changing my meds or whatever. I don’t want to drink, of course, but I’m not going to let it rule me.

Tom assures me I’m already better than a week ago and MUCH better than a month ago. Well, I’m definitely better than a month ago since I no longer have such severe anxiety that turns into downright panic attacks. I’m no longer afraid to be alone or having to call him at work. But that underlying feeling of emotional yuckiness still comes and goes in waves and just 60 seconds of this shit can really crucify the spirit. It’s that bad, and the spontaneous racy heart is annoying as hell.

I’m just trying to keep busy and focus on happy things. I like being busy anyway, and I like being happy, too. Bad things happen in the world. It isn’t that I’m unaware of that. I just choose not to dwell on it whenever possible. It’s like knowing cigarettes are bad for you and smoking them vs. knowing they’re bad but not smoking them.

Anyway, I go to take a shower and in the shower, I’m aware of my heart accelerating a bit. I get out, see it’s 110, then I see a spider on the bedroom ceiling where it meets the wall above the bed. Next, I’m thinking, “Oh, great. This is really gonna jack the hell out of my heartbeat,” as I ran for the vacuum to suck the bastard up. But as soon as I did so and sprayed a shot of bug spray into the vacuum before turning it off, I felt perfectly calm. Calm, cool and collected after killing something I’ve always found creepy as hell. Even stranger was that I go on a bike ride on the type of terrain that should bring my heart around 120 and come home to find it’s only at 104. Interesting, huh? Well, I am strong and fit and need a more challenging route like the park’s perimeters. I’m just not brave enough yet for fear of my heartbeat going over 130-140 unless I bring Tom along. We both want to ride together more often regardless of what’s going on, but he has limited time and I have a crazy schedule, so syncing up our rides isn’t that easy.

I just wish that fucking mutt would quit going off on me and I thank goodness it can’t be heard in the house! I’d be calling that office so damn fast if I were next door. I feel bad for next door unless they’re deaf. I don’t know about that, though, cuz their front light went on for a few minutes and I’ve never known that house to have a motion sensor of any kind. They’ve definitely got the damn things (I think there may be two now) tied up in back of their carport. Either that or they’re barking through an open door/window, but I think they’re actually outside. No one came to shut them up either and certainly, someone had to have been home. What rude assholes! I only made a few rounds around the circle, mostly cuz I felt bad for anyone that was disturbed by it than I did annoyed for myself since our house is far enough away from it and I can escape the damn thing anytime I want to. It was getting late.

We’ve been talking about taking vacations (to tropical places) every January and mixing up the fun with the home improvements. The home improvements are fun too, but they are time-consuming, a pain in the ass, and costly. But so is traveling. Even a cheap trip to Florida where we flew economy and stayed in cheap motels (Tammy could feed us for the most part), would be at least $1500, and that would be more than the cost of most of what’s left on our “to do” list. The only thing that would cost as much or more than getting new carpet would be if we replaced windows and had a company rip out our too many trees, bushes and plants and replaced them with gravel or something simple like that.

Yesterday morning I did my nails in gold gel chrome. It is a bit thicker than regular polish but you can still see the ridges I have in my nails. Not as much, but still somewhat. Can’t wait to see if it really lasts longer than regular polish since this is an epoxy and not acrylic. I stuck my hands out in the bright sunlight yesterday morning as Tom was watering and that helped set the epoxy quickly. The dazzling gold was blinding in the sunlight!

Later…

Bye-bye, thyroid meds. You may’ve given me a metabolism for a while but you also made me miserable and drove me crazy. I’d rather be fat, fatigued and forgetful once again than deal with the racy heart you gave me and the anxiety from hell.

Yes, I have quit all my meds. Ah, an 84 heartbeat is much comfier than a 112. NO DOUBT whatsoever in my mind that it WAS the meds. My PCP isn’t very bright or at least isn’t very experienced with Hashimoto’s cases. I’ve read that so many others also said it took a couple of months for the symptoms to get them too, and that they did come on rather quickly when they did. As I told Tom, if he can think of some alternative that will let me treat the disease without killing me, let me know, but right now I can’t come up with anything. Other meds mean problems with doses. Numbers are critical so lowering the dose is out. I can’t “get used to it.” I could mask the symptoms with a permanent chill pill but then I will always live in a fog. I would rather feel good and have this thing kill me in 5 years than suffer the side effects for 10 or more years. It was a truly God-awful feeling. We weren’t just talking about a dry mouth or something like that. Even the hair loss was nothing compared to the anxiety, racy heart, funny feeling when I’d swallow, and eye/head pressure. Might have to work out more now to counteract the slowing metabolism and ward off joint pain. That joint pain wasn’t just age or lack of exercise, but the Hashimoto’s. I just didn’t know it at the time just like I didn’t know the hoarse voice, wimpy periods and other shit were connected.

I only ask that if I appear forgetful to friends that they keep in mind it’s not that I’m not paying attention or that I don’t care. If I didn’t care I wouldn’t bother with them in the first place.

Anyway, I know there are some risks in not treating my condition, but life is about taking risks, isn’t it? Every time you get in your car you risk getting into an accident. Every day there is a risk that a meteorite may fall on our heads. As my metabolism slows the weight gain and fatigue will return and my heart will be at risk, but if anything bad really does happen that should be years away. A coma, as the heartbeat gets slower and slower and the metabolism completely dies, should come with plenty of warning because you should feel exhausted all the time. There’s the risk of a goiter too, because the thyroid will now try to work harder to produce what it can’t produce on its own and that can enlarge it. Again, this would take years.

I realized that the only thing in the way of me feeling better was ME and that if I just stop taking the damn pills I’d be better. I’d just have the original symptoms, though they are certainly the lesser of the two evils. God still hates me but I’M in control of my life. Besides, I know He’s not going to kill me anytime soon. He can’t have fun torturing me in some way or another every few years if I’m dead.

I will survive. I will just do it in a way that doesn’t make my heart feel like it’s going to jump out of my chest.

I’m going to love being pill-free once again except for my vitamins and not having to worry about remembering to take them and what over-the-counter stuff might interact with them, though I would’ve put up with the hassle had they not made me feel the way they did.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 17, 2014 God, I’m a real idiot! I decided to delete my group on Facebook. The way to do that is to delete your members and then yourself. Like an idiot, though, I deleted myself first. I contacted Facebook about it, but I don’t expect to hear from them. It wouldn’t hurt anything if it just sat there, so it’s not that big a deal.

Tom and I talked about the communicating through pictures thing. He is the ONLY one who knows about it and understands that it’s a psychic thing and not an imaginary friend thing or voices in my head.

Today is Tammy and Mark’s anniversary. Unfortunately for them, they can only wish each other a happy anniversary by phone.

Really worried for Tammy at this point. Her breathing test didn’t go well. She said something about how a nebulizer usually helps her improve, but this time it didn’t. I guess there is a lot of inflammation in her lungs and her immune system is shot, too. They feel it’s too risky to do anything to boost her immune system. She had a UT infection and instead of taking the week it normally takes to kill that off, it took her a month. In her words, she said she’d know more on Friday but right now it “doesn’t look good.”

But does “it doesn’t look good” mean she’ll get worse? Or just that she won’t get better?

Later…

Went to Walgreens earlier just for fun and decided to try Sally Hansen’s Miracle Gel nail polish that doesn’t require any kind of UV light, so I got a kit that comes with polish plus the top coat. I also grabbed a single bottle, so I’ve got Tidal Wave, which is like a royal blue, and Game of Chromes, a shiny gold.

Only problem is I can’t try it out now because I don’t have any nail polish remover to remove my old polish with. Tom’s going to Walmart in a few hours. I’ll probably be too tired to do them then, so I’ll wait till tomorrow. Some of the reviews I read suggest it would probably be best if I did it during the daytime and could stick my hand out in the sunlight to help it dry faster.

We also grabbed some pistachio nuts and caramel truffles, and he got a new dry-erase board to use for programming notes.

Later…

Had a great day yesterday that didn’t end quite as well. My heart raced out a bit in the end as I was trying to sleep after being up 18 hours (112). It wasn’t scary but it was annoying. I had to take a chill pill to relax enough to sleep. sighs I feel like the old me (minus the unmedicated effects of the thyroid disease) is gone forever. Tom keeps saying I’ll adapt. He doesn’t know when, but I will go longer and longer between chill pills as I get used to the thyroid bringing back my original “old self,” as funny as that may sound. The one who was naturally anxious but had learned to deal with it.

I think yesterday’s racy heart and trouble sleeping was more the junk food that I had too far into the end of my day than actual anxiety. I realize now that hoarding too much sugar when you’re naturally wound up and on a drug that’s boosting your metabolism, isn’t a very wise idea. I don’t have to throw away all my weekend snacks, but I should definitely have fewer treats. Having 5 rich truffles, then some nuts, and then trying one of the brownies Tom got, was a bit overkill. If it weren’t for the meds I’d be up a pound. Didn’t ride yesterday so I definitely want to try to get in a ride tonight.

Tom also thinks I'm "psychically acting" like change is coming, saying I'm able to sense change before it comes and then I get all antsy over it, not knowing if it's to be good or not. Well, if any of this is on account of upcoming change, I hope it's good!‎

Based on my typical time frames for sensing the unknown when it comes to change affecting us, we'd probably have found out this week if that really was the case. A win notice for me? A raise for him? Both seem doubtful right now, though I did have that dream of winning a trip, which could be a good sign.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 16, 2014 Got up a little while ago and am almost afraid to face the night ahead not knowing what anxiety/depression may hit me. It’s very random and gets me when I least expect it. I was fine when I wrote my last entry, but as the night progressed I was aware of a subtle yet distinct underlying feeling of anxiety and depression. Tom’s theory has got to be right about the old me and her chemicals being thrown off, cuz I haven’t gotten this way without a reason in centuries. Meanwhile, my life is fine. Everything’s going great. There’s no external reason, so to speak, for me to feel this way. I can totally see how it can drive some people to suicide no matter what they’ve got going for them.

Tom also believes I’ll adapt and that I will continue to get better and better. Well, the severe physical type of attack has stopped. It’s now down to just an emotional feeling. Still a shitty way to live, but at least my heart’s not booming like crazy and I’m not feeling dizzy or running to the toilet. So yeah, I’m better, but still not good. I don’t want to feel so on edge every other day or so, but I’m not sure yet if I should run to the therapist, ask my PCP for a full-time chill pill, or just give it a little more time. I wish I could quit the meds altogether but if I do that I have the original problems all over again. If anxiety comes on tonight I’m not going to wait for hours hoping it’ll get better. After an hour or so I’ll take a happy pill. I’d rather not feel bad enough to do so in the first place, but we’ll see!

Took a break from working on this entry to apply the glitter tea rose stickers above the bed, which arrived today. They look great! Stylish and colorful without adding a gaudy, circus-like touch to the room. If I had to start over again, I wouldn’t have painted the hallway such a bold shade of pink. I probably should’ve done the pale lavender there and a paler pink in the second bedroom, but oh well.

As I was applying those and waiting for my food to cook, sure enough, my anxiety and my pulse rate went up a bit. As soon as I sat down and started eating, though, I was fine. I hope Tom’s right in guessing I’ll learn to live with these meds without taking a regular chill pill or returning to the therapist, but I sometimes feel like my only options are going to be to chill pill it regularly or stop the damn meds.

I know another stupid thing I need to do is stop watching such sad stuff when I’m already feeling kind of blah. Was it really smart to watch a documentary on condemned prisoners’ final 24 hours on death row like I did last night? I was never big on the news due to its often sad and infuriating content. The problem with the Internet is that there are links everywhere, making it harder to avoid. Still, I don’t have to click on them or watch such sad and depressing stuff on YouTube. I guess I was watching these things for a while not just out of curiosity and because I like to learn, but to remind myself that things could be worse. Right now I definitely have it better than a lot of people, maybe even most. I have a sleep issue that’s debilitating, yes, and a disease that’s a pain in the arse, but I am otherwise healthy, loved, well off financially, and living in a beautiful home.

Despite how well things are going at the moment, I sometimes wish we could get the hell out of Cali. My skin is drier than dry here and we’ve had some of the scariest times ever in this state. But unless poverty revisits us and we lose the place, we should be here for over a decade.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 15, 2014 Tomorrow, which is just about to arrive in the east, Tammy will be Tom’s age.

For those of you who have asked, yes, I’m doing ok now anxiety-wise. I want to thank those that have prayed for me since this shit started over a month ago, but as always, I was on my own to work through it, and any support I did get came from those that walk on two legs and a bottle of pills. Don’t know if it’s because there is no God or at least one that doesn’t give a shit, but it was/is up to me to get through these things with the love of my good friends and family. But hey, I did survive and I will keep on surviving, and I do appreciate those who thought of me. :)

Looking at it from a logical standpoint (or at least what I personally consider logical), when you consider the fact that no God seems to give a shit about those suffering and dying from Ebola, or about the kidnapped females in Iraq, it only makes sense that none would give a shit about me. Like what would make me so special, right? That’s ok, though, for my husband’s love is what’s most important to me. Tangible beings that I can see, hug, touch and feel, along with those I can only communicate with online

I know that in today’s time, a white person who says even the slightest negative thing about the behavior of blacks is automatically presumed racist, but I don’t care. I’m not going to let popular opinion/belief stifle me from expressing myself in my own journal because I know what I really am and am not and that’s good enough for me.

I still don’t know all the particulars and while it’s sad that the black boy was shot and killed in Ferguson, it really irritates me that these incidents are always automatically labeled as racist or hate-based. Yeah, there are a lot of corrupt, trigger-happy cops out there who are high on power and have their various prejudices. Sometimes they can be worse than the civilians. No doubt about that. I’ve known this for years and haven’t been the least bit afraid to express my feelings towards cops in general. But racism makes no sense in this case. If it were all about killing innocent blacks just because they’re black the numbers would be much higher. They wouldn’t kill just one, but more like one a week or at least one a month until they were fired. In addition, how the hell can the cops always know if someone’s armed or not? If what little I heard is true, the kid gave the cops every reason to believe he was armed and dangerous. Can’t expect the cops to just stand there in cases like that.

Meanwhile, rioting every time something bad happens is never a solution. It only makes you look bad. It’s ok to be angry, but violence isn’t the way to solve problems like a few groups of people seem to think it is.

I’ll bet the cop that shot that kid is shitting in his pants at the thought of his name being released if it hasn’t been already. These days you just don’t shoot blacks and get away with it, though you’re still perfectly able to shoot all the whites you want. That’s just society’s double standards for you, only those “standards” have shifted over the years. A black person can make all the racist jokes they want at work with no repercussions whatsoever, but if a white coworker dares open their mouth, out the door they go.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 14, 2014 Unfortunately, I got a little anxious late last night and took a happy pill shortly before bed for the first time in a week. Tom said he didn’t understand why I was so against taking them when I asked if he thought I should take one or not. It isn’t that I’m against it; it’s just that I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to.

My heart wasn’t racing and I wasn’t having those dizzy spells that make you feel like you’re going to pass out. No runs either. I just felt almost as if there was an invisible pressure on my throat and like swallowing was a touch difficult. There was an underlying feeling of apprehension I just couldn’t shake no matter how much I tried to focus on the millions of positive things going for me. The nurse was right when she said you can’t control this shit. You learn to live with it but you can never know when or where it’s going to hit you. I’m sure those who have never experienced it may be tempted to roll their eyes and say, “Get over it. Just get over it.”

Oh, how wonderful and easier life would be if we could “just get over” this or “just tell ourselves” that.

But I can and will learn to deal with it. It’s all I can do. Tom just said he read that Robin Williams was recently diagnosed with Parkinson’s and that’s probably what pushed him over the edge. I wonder what additional diagnoses may push ME over the edge, but I hope I won’t have to find out. A part of me wishes I could rewind the hands of times to before January 14th when I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s, back to when I was pill-free save for an occasional painkiller or allergy pill. Yet while it would be nice to just stop taking pills and quit going to doctors, that would only invite the original symptoms back into my life and they would ultimately kill me. So I feel kind of stuck at times. Not exactly looking forward to what may lie ahead, but knowing I can’t go back either.

The anxiety and feelings of underlying dread and doom are getting less severe and less frequent so that much is good. Will I ever have to go back to the therapist and take full-time anxiety pills? I don’t know that yet. I hope not. I don’t want to have to spend $35 every week or two just because we can. I’d rather spend that money on things for the house and for our savings as well.

Tom and I are pretty sure that while screwing up my meds last month has a part in it, I was always naturally anxious, but I eventually got used to it and learned to live with it. Besides, we often handle things easier at 20 than at 48. Then as my thyroid died off, the anxiety went away. Remember, the thyroid affects everything and not just weight. Now that I’m on thyroid medication I’m “normal” again as far as what’s normal for me goes, and the anxiety is back and I have to learn once again to deal with it. I’m not used to feeling this degree of anxiety, not that I didn’t have my anxious moments when the shit would hit the fan in life before the diagnosis. But it was a different kind of anxiety that was less physical, if that makes any sense.

I woke up feeling a bit antsy but when Tom came home we chatted and I ate, then I felt better and decided to hold off on the chill pill. I hope I stay that way for the rest of the night!

On the bright side, I’ll probably never lose those 20 pounds with all the weekend snacking I love to do, but shouldn’t have to worry about gaining uncontrollably like I once did. Furthermore, Tom will have earned around $300 extra with just 6 hours of OT during the week, plus working Saturday. Back when he was working 10 hours during the week and 8 hours on Saturday, we could’ve lived off just the OT alone.

The extra money will help a lot because while the bulk of the home improvements is done, we still need to finish the painting, redo the kitchen ceiling, get a living room set, get a new garbage disposal, redo the floors and several other things as well. The place could use new toilets, and we still have a house and car to pay off.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 13, 2014 Even though "How is your foot?" is a simple question, it is nice that I can ask it in 5 languages (English, ASL, Spanish, Italian, German) when I am so damn dumb with numbers and other things.

Tom's feet sometimes get swollen. Oh, and the dream premonitions might be back but in a good way. At least I'm hoping that's the case. Back when there was less competition and I was able to win things more often, I would often have dreams of winning right before learning of a win. And I don't mean a little piddly win like a book or CD either. I rarely won what I dreamed of winning, but still, I hope last night's dream of winning a trip to NY (I'd try to get a cash equivalent on that one) is a sign of something good to come. If not a win then maybe a raise for Tom. When he came in I told him about the dream, and he told me that ironically, they asked if he'd be willing to do a job that pays a bit more. They are, however, not in the habit of putting their actions where their mouths are, so we don't want to get our hopes up.

Got a message from Tammy today. Andy wondered if moving to a warm climate would actually worsen her health and I asked her if she thinks that could be the case, but she’s pretty sure it’s not the weather, but all she’s had going on instead. It takes time to get settled, and she couldn’t obtain the oxygen she needs right away. I just wish she and Mark would both quit smoking and get into shape. Being in shape is more important than what the scales and inches say. She does, however, go swimming in the pool and take walks on the beach, so she’s not totally immobile.

After the house closes Mark will be going to Ohio to see his brother who is in his 70s, and his daughter Stephanie with whom he’s had numerous problems. I guess she is both mentally challenged and irresponsible. She says she hasn’t seen either of the girls, Becky rarely calls, but Sarah keeps in touch.

Walmart’s got this really neat thing going on now where if you punch in the number of your receipt online, they’ll pay you the difference of any item that was cheaper in another store. With just one receipt we got $4 in savings, though he wants to wait for it to build up a bit before he gets a gift card, which is what they give you.

Molly really has changed, considering the fact that she no longer visits my blog daily even though she can. More so is the fact that she doesn’t even seem to be contacting Alison, her main obsession, every day anymore. Maybe she’s texting or emailing her, but she’s not contacting her on Ask or Twitter regularly which I know of. I still don’t want to get too close to her, cuz she’s still always going to have a moodiness and neediness about her I could do without.

Later…

When I remember Mary I find it hard to remember the good times and not find myself resentful instead over how she used me and then falsely accused me of creating a blog to bash her with, which she supposedly learned from someone else. That is, without ever having the decency to ask me about it first. I can’t stand people with such severe trust issues that they can’t trust anyone and I mean ANYONE. I’m sorry she was burned so bad so many times by so many people, but people like that are too moody for me. She’d be amazingly compassionate one minute, then high on paranoia the next.

That wasn’t the only thing that caused me to let go of her. She not only can’t admit her faults and apologize for them, but she does nothing but use people. As wrong as it is, this too, I can understand to some degree. She has been a slave to this one or to that one for most of her life. It wasn’t until her 30s that her life finally belonged to her and even then there were still some serious restrictions. Still, while she may have a creative, intelligent and caring side, all she knows is to milk people for whatever she can get from them. She will use one bad boy’s money after another to get what she wants, even if it means putting up with some abuse. She wouldn’t stoop as low as some of her exes – gosh, I hope not anyway – but she is still attracted to what she’s always known and that’s men who will literally pay to abuse her.

She is as addicted to shopping as some people are to food. A new dress may not be worth the bloody lip it used to be worth, but a little slap is probably still worth it. At least last I knew it was from our last communications. The last guy I knew her to be with might not have actually slapped her, but I know she was afraid of him. She told me so in her own words. This was some rich drunk she was using to furnish her apartment and support her after she was fired from her job. Now if it’s a mutual Sugar Daddy agreement of sorts, that’s fine. Nothing wrong with it if both people are happy. But how can material things mean so much more than love, respect, honesty and being treated like a human being to some people??? Perhaps I am wrong to judge or question this, but hey, it’s her life. She has a right to live it as she sees fit and just because her priorities may seem a bit warped to me, I realize they may be very sensible and reasonable to her.

Funny, though, how easy it was to let go of this person I have actually met and spent so much time communicating with than it was to let go of a 6-year cyber friend of mine that I never met. I could let go if I had to, of course, but the thought of it saddens me unless there were ever worse disagreements than there have been. Some things are worth forgiving and working through, as far as I’m concerned, and some things aren’t. Still, it’s funny how some people we can get mad at and dump while others we can get mad at and not dump. Or not dump for very long anyway. I guess it just depends on how far the good exceeds the bad or vice versa.

I don’t hate Mary. Never have, never will. I hope her life is all she wants and dreams it to be. But her absence doesn’t leave me with a sense that something’s missing in my life like those few days the other person wasn’t in it.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 12, 2014 “So many people want to be ‘normal’ and so many want to stand out uniquely. I just want to be me.” ~ Another unknown tweet quoter

Andy told me in a PM that he didn’t want to say this in public for fear of offending anyone but they were sick of hearing about Robin Williams’s suicide when the guy had everything he could ever want. Yeah, I can see where some may perceive that as rather insensitive, LOL, cuz some things just aren’t that simple I’m afraid. Depression is a disease, not about being a rich, spoiled brat. It alters your mind and your way of thinking so that no matter what you may have or not have in life, you’re still depressed and if it’s severe enough you’re not very rational either. Clinical depression is a chemical imbalance of the brain, not a conscious choice.

I don’t think everyone is necessarily insensitive, though, as opposed to uninformed and inexperienced. When it’s something people don’t get or haven’t experienced firsthand, they are quick to appear less than empathetic. I’ve seen the same attitude where my sleep disorder is concerned, and so have others who actually have clinical depression.

I told Tom I wondered why he hadn’t gotten help since he certainly had the money and the resources, but like he said, not everyone can be helped. Even a friend who's suffered through the same thing said one shouldn’t assume he could’ve gotten help, and then Tom reminded me of Steve Jobs. He had all the money and medical help at his fingertips yet cancer still killed him anyway. Not everything is that cut and dry. I used to think hypothyroidism was about weight when in fact it’s about a helluva lot more than just that!

What really pisses me off is how you only hear about black kids being shot by the police, and the usual talk of how oh-so-wonderful God is. Damn, does that get old! I know I shouldn’t let people’s opinions and beliefs get to me and on pretty much any subject in the world I don’t, but the God thing in particular is that one thing that really gets under my skin. Again, I know I shouldn’t take it personally, but I can’t help but take offense to hearing the very being praised that I believe sat back and allowed a lot of misery into my life. That is unless Tom’s theory is the correct one. He thinks there probably is a God but that it doesn’t play a role in our day-to-day lives. He believes the events of our lives are simply random. He said that if everyone’s life were the same, then he’d say he could see a pattern that suggested something was controlling it to be that way. But because no one’s the same, he thinks it’s all just dumb luck.

Whatever the correct theory is, I’m just sick of hearing about God. God, God, God! I don’t know why it bothers me so much, but I think we all have our pet peeves we don’t quite understand and that we can’t just chuck aside that easily. But I know that no matter how many times I tell people, hey that’s YOUR fantasy, belief, or whatever you want to call it, people are gonna do whatever they’re gonna do, so I just try to ignore it whenever possible. Still, it really gets to me at times. Like praising a woman’s rapist, you know? Imagine how she’d feel.

I didn’t read the article, so I can’t say if the black shooting victim was provoked or if it was a matter of police brutality. That’s not the point. What bothers me is knowing that if this kid was white it would never have made the news. These days when a white kid gets shot, no matter how undeserved and unprovoked it may be, no one gives a shit. They only give a shit when they’re black. As I’ve said a million times before, two wrongs don’t make a right. Favoring blacks isn’t any more ok or correct than it is to favor whites and I don’t care how not so politically correct I may sound. As usual, though, the vast majority will side with the blacks whether they’re innocent or not.

Later…

I currently have 21 finished stories and 6 unfinished, one of which I’m working on now. Just thought I’d share that interesting piece of news. :)

Andy shared some pics of his place with me the other day, which both Tom and I saw, and I must admit I was rather impressed. I thought the place would be a mess, but it wasn’t. It’s nicely decorated, and while the colors may not be me, they are definitely stylish and go well together. If you can stand that climate and to be attached to others, he’s got a great deal that would be very hard to find elsewhere.

It was only 87° today so the pool was a touch chilly. It was great for tanning, though I don’t seem to be getting any darker. Oh well. At least I’m not burning.

Rode my bike 10 times around the circle last night, which equals 2 miles. My heart rate was 120 when I got back, which is reasonable with no steep hills in that area. The weather was gorgeous, too. A bit warm for bike riding, but windy and beautiful. That mutt barked at me twice as I went by, and I thought I got a flat when I heard a loud pop, but I didn’t. The drone of freeway traffic was a bit loud but soothing.

Before taking off I felt slightly apprehensive (at the thought of how I’d feel riding alone?) but once I made a few rounds and saw that I was still feeling just fine, the feeling diminished.

Anyway, I finally got paid for my last round and jobs and ordered those stickers. Then sure enough, not even a half-hour later, more payments came in. So now I have a bit of a head start for my next goodie goal, an erotic figurine.

Decided to pass on the toe ring for now. Yes, I’m addicted to the things and can’t seem to get enough of them, but the two I currently have are enough for now. Besides, I couldn’t make up my mind just which ones I wanted and with my skinny little toes, getting one that actually fits without having to overlap the ends, can be a bit tough. 6mm seems to be a common size, but I need 5mm and even that’s slightly big.

Anyway, life is good except for loud traffic waking me up in back twice today. I don’t know why it sometimes wakes me up while other times it doesn’t. I made adjustments to the sound machine and we’ll see if that helps. That is the ONE thing I would change about this place if I could is to get rid of that street running by the bedroom! The sound machines drown out landscapers and every other sound you might hear around here, but those super loud vehicles like UPS trucks. What’s with the rise in loud vehicles anyway? Even Virginia pointed that out. You hear something that sounds like a semi or a giant RV coming down the street, but then you look out to find it’s just a pickup.

Later…

Not that agreeing with me is mandatory or anything, but I'm amazed how many agreed on my last entry pertaining to the subject of God that everyone seems to love to discuss. I totally agree with the one who said they're learning that God is the worst thing to ever happen to humanity. In many ways, this is very true when you think about it. Look what "God's" done to the twisted minds of Muslims. Maybe they'd find some other reason to slaughter people if no one had decided a God exists, but maybe not.

Also, look how many people hate gays because "God" supposedly hates them, too. I not only think this is bullshit since if there is a God I don't see why it would allow for any groups of people it hated, but I do think God can hate certain individuals. He's made that obvious enough to me since the day I was born to the wrong woman. There are worse mothers to have, but mine was bad enough.

I think people can also become delusional in the name of God. If I'm supposedly fair game to the devil for hating God, then why have the last few years been wonderful with the exception of a few rough spots we all have to deal with in life? Why do I have a guy like Tom? And how can there be atheists like Nane who are mostly happy and God-lovers like Tammy who are mostly miserable?

Furthermore, it irritates me when people give Him credit He doesn't deserve, like when they try to tell me shit like how blessed I am for the languages He's "given" me. Sorry folks, but I gave myself those languages by studying hard. Oh, something up there may've set my brain to pick them up easier than most people, but I'M the one that studied and I'M the one that learned them, thank you. Give credit where it's due and keep in mind all that HUMANS do! You know, those things that walk on two legs? We really are responsible for much of the good that comes our way and it often has nothing to do with anything inhuman.

Ok, enough God-talk for what will hopefully be a long, long time, LOL. As I’ve always said, we all can’t help believe what we believe any more than who we’re attracted to, but it would be nice to hear about a bigger variety of things, even if they’re as mundane as the weather.

Another airplane-loud truck went by checking out our bulk trash pile but decided nope. They don’t want those old bulky stools. We’ve also got some boxes of trash out there like the rest of the old curtains, and the wooden platform the dishwasher came in.

MONDAY, AUGUST 11, 2014 Not much to say today. Tom’s doing some coding now and I’m just doing my usual thing. Last night I felt a lot better emotionally than I did the night before.

Right now I’m waiting for the people I’ve done jobs for to hurry up and pay me so I can do some shopping. They don’t usually take this long. I’m going to grab those stickers I want to place above the bed.

I did a prescreening survey for a clinical trial study they’re doing in my area for those taking statin drugs. They pay well, but the problem is I’ve worried enough about side effects to last me a lifetime, and with my anxiety and all that I’m not sure, as Tom agrees, that participating in this study would be such a good idea. I’ve had almost no anxiety this last week as I get further away from the incident that triggered it in the first place, but why take chances of stirring it up? It was nice, though, to make a few bucks just for a few minutes of prescreening questions, but we’re not desperate for extra money right now.

Once it’s cool enough around 9pm or so I’ll go for a quick bike ride. Just around the block a few times, though. I’m not going to go around the park. Not after dark.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 10, 2014 “Growing old is mandatory. Growing up is optional.” ~ Unknown

Last night I dreamed we were living in Florida near my sister and her daughters. I guess we owned a house there and were going to consider selling it and moving into an apartment next to her. I also guess that I thought I’d be ok living attached to someone that I at least knew, and there was to be no one on the other side of us or above and below us.

My mother was still alive because I was thinking of her being 30 miles away and wondering why she didn’t want to move to be closer to us.

Tom had a week of vacation when it was agreed we’d stay at the apartment with the girls during that week and do various things during the daytime. I don’t know why everybody stayed there, LOL, but Tammy had 3 couches in her living room and one just outside of it alongside the kitchen counter. I slept on that couch while Tom, Sarah and Becky slept on couches in the living room, all on different walls. I could only see Tom from my couch, but not the girls. Off the kitchen were a dining area and a hallway leading to the two bedrooms and a bathroom. Tammy slept in her bedroom, as usual.

I was frustrated because I lay there all night unable to sleep. When I finally did sleep, one of the girls noisily got up to use the bathroom and left the hallway light on, which woke me up, then Tammy woke me up when she came out into the kitchen. Exhausted, I asked if I could go sleep in the spare bedroom.

“And piss everybody off?” she asked.

I glanced at Sarah who’d just glanced from Becky back to me, realizing that it would be unfair if I got the comfy bed while everyone else (who didn’t live there) was stuck on couches.

In an instant the scene “split.” It was like I was interrupted by me checking in at home. I wanted to check my email for any important messages cuz we didn’t have our smartphones with us.

Next thing I know it’s getting dark and starting to rain. I realized I was barefoot but ran back to Tammy's that way; barefoot and in a sundress. I was running alongside a wooded area and wondered if anyone would stop to offer me a ride. A motorcycle pulled into a narrow drive in the woods in front of me, but no one stopped.

After running for about 10 minutes I was back in the “scene” with everybody on their assigned couches and Tammy in the kitchen. Only Tammy had turned into my mother who was now in tears at the thought of losing us when I asked her if we could sleep at home but be back bright and early each morning to partake in the activities we planned for the week. I had to assure my mother we were just a few minutes away. “I ran it, after all, mom.”

Later…

Yesterday Tom trimmed our too many bushes and blew leaves out of the carport. It took a long time and if anyone around us wanted peace and quiet, they certainly didn’t get it for a while. But today, neither are we. Someone’s been sawing and hammering on and off and it does get annoying. Especially on a Sunday when things are usually the quietest.

Since Romeo’s proven he can behave by not shoving bedding out of the cage like he used to do, we once again put them in the bigger cage. They seem to prefer that cage as it’s not only more spacious but they have ramps they can climb to get to the higher levels. Hoodie can scale the walls, but Romeo's gotten too old and too fat, and Sugar’s disabled. Hopefully, Romeo will continue to behave. This cage is a bit harder to clean, but it looks nicer.

Yesterday evening a wave of anxiety swept over me. I was like, oh no. Just oh fucking no. But fortunately, it passed in less than a minute. It was the same shit – I started to feel dizzy and my heart started to race and pound. It’s a truly miserable feeling. I was totally dismayed to experience even just seconds of this shit. It felt like a bit of a setback to me and I later felt a bit depressed. Just knowing that these things can creep up on me anytime, anywhere, for any reason, is a really sucky thing to have hanging over me. But I know I have to learn to live with the damn things just like I’ve had to learn to live with other shit.

Tom still feels I’ll get over this phase just as I have other things in life. Will I ever get over the what-ifs that still creep up on me at times? Feeling depressed or anxious can lead to some really nasty thoughts for me. Again every possible, horrible, miserable, scary, depressing what-if went through my mind last night and I just couldn’t turn them off.

I didn’t know this (or maybe I did but forgot), but Tom has life insurance through his job and I could live alone for years if anything happened to him, although I can’t imagine ever wanting to. I honestly don’t see how I lived alone all those years before we met to begin with. It was tough, all right. Tom cheered me up in no time today, but when I was alone I didn’t have anybody to pull me up when I’d start to sink down in a pit of sorrow. Most people are happy to be a part of your life when you’re up, but you know how selfish and cruel they can be when you’re sad, scared or ill. They just can’t deal with it and will often blame the person who’s down and that only makes them feel worse being kicked down when they’re already down.

Again my mind got stuck on imagining if I were suddenly told I had a terminal disease, what it may be like to die, and what kind of afterlife may await me, if there is such a thing. Tom pointed out that dying gets “easier” as medicine advances. Even with something as deadly and as horrible as the Ebola virus, they still expect to have a vaccine for it within a year. Still, it would be nice if all states treated dying people as well as they do dogs, instead of just Oregon and Washington. I mean I see Tom’s point, and I’m sure things will be even better 30 years from now, but it’s still something that’s playing on my mind too much, and the possibility of what, if anything, may lay beyond. Sometimes I feel like my life has become nothing but pills and fears of dying and death. I’m trying to change my outlook on things, but some changes take time.

I asked if he thought the fact that I can’t be alone like I used to be meant I’ve grown weaker with time, but he doesn’t think so as opposed to just being different. He reminded me that people’s needs do change over the years, and well, I’m not in my 20s anymore. At the same time, he feels I could survive on my own if I absolutely had to, though it may take me time to adapt. Even if that were true, I can’t imagine wanting to. Live without the only guy who’s ever totally accepted and loved me without complaint, control or pushing me to be somebody I’m not? Who loves me when I’m up AND when I’m down and who always felt my absolute best was good enough, and even my almost best was good enough, too?

And then I imagined the unimaginable some more and wondered if I’d ever be “trapped” between life and death if he were to go first. What if I didn’t have the guts to end it all for fear of botching it or something, but knew I couldn’t go on living either?

Yes, I know this is a depressing entry. I’m sorry even though I’m not, since this is, after all, my journal. Still, I’ll tweet the link but won’t share it on Facebook. I don’t want too many others to drown in my sea of what-ifs along with me if I can help it, but on a positive note, I do feel much better at the moment. :) Both writing and having a loving husband are rather therapeutic. No crush could replace this guy, that’s for sure, and yes, I fully admit I’m still drooling over that hot judge, haha.

Damn, was she glamorous and gorgeous! What wasn’t to like? Her makeup job was perfect, I loved her hair and the way its style suited her so well, full lips, eyes of chocolate, and perfect skin tone. Not too dark, not too light. I didn’t realize she was black at first. I thought she was Hispanic till the camera zoomed in on her and I heard her speak. She may be a little top-heavy body-wise, but I don’t care, LOL.

Later…

Another thing that had me depressed was my bike. I used to love to go out riding day or night, with or without Tom, and I hadn’t one single fear. But now I can’t even enjoy that much in the way that I used to for fear of an anxiety attack hitting me when my heart is already elevated. Tom thinks that the more I go out there and see nothing bad happens, the more confidence I’ll have. Hope he’s right!

I almost considered canceling my dentist appointment, not wanting to be hit with one of those things while they were working on me, though my next appointment is just a check-up and a cleaning job.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 9, 2014 Went for a bike ride and came back with a heart rate of 133. Tom's was only 104 cuz his resting heart rate is lower.

Tom read an interesting health and fitness article where they did a study to see if running was really more beneficial than walking. They did find that getting your heart elevated more by running was not only more beneficial but that all it took was 5 minutes a day. In other words, you get the same benefits at just 5 minutes a day as you would an hour. I always knew that more was not better, but I didn’t know just 5 minutes was enough. I thought 20-30 was more like it.

Anyway, I decided I’d ride the park’s perimeters (this takes 15 minutes) when I’m on days and around the circle 5 times (this takes 10 minutes) when I’m on nights. Even though I seem to be over my anxiety and it was indeed connected to the OD, I don’t want to risk being startled by a skunk or a possum darting out at me at night and it spawning an anxiety attack, which could escalate into a panic attack, while I was on the other side of the park.

I was so pissed yesterday. They wait till I pay $130 + $20 in shipping for Rachel just to lower her to $106, prime eligible. :( But that’s how things usually work for me; never get any breaks in life. Maybe I’ll nab the other two I like that are also now on sale. I just hate it when the requestors take forever to pay up. I want to get some glitter tea rose stickers for above the bed. I’ve made the money for them but haven’t received it yet. I need just a few more bucks in my account.

Not sure if I mentioned this yet or not, but I found Twitter to look better than it ever has before with the new Facebook-like layout and so I rejoined. I’m mostly using it to post pictures and blog links. There are a few random thoughts I’ll throw in, but it’s all pretty much stuff I include in journal entries.

I had a dream I accidentally sent Andy and a couple of others the story I’m working on now instead of journals and Andy, who hates to read books, said it was awesome so far, LOL.

I’m so glad I’m not next door to Andy! His mom and others are visiting right now.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 8, 2014 This morning I pulled out an old half-shirt from my drawer that I had since the 90s. It's tie-dye with spaghetti straps and I said to myself, "This little old shirt is never going to fit me." But it does! EASILY. I'm glad too, cuz it's always been one of my faves and is oh so comfortable. Amazingly, it doesn't look faded or frayed at all for its age.

Enjoying another day free of anxiety. I’d say I’ve finally kicked this thing and have recovered. It feels so damn good, too!

Not much else to say right now. I’m just finishing up the week’s household chores like laundry and running a load of dishes. Then it’s on to my online work/fun.

For dreams, I remember one negative one, one positive one, and one that was pretty neutral. I liked the one where I was sitting (outdoors at a picnic table?) happily chatting with my sexy doctor, but not the one where I was at a heart specialist and said, “My heart’s beating hard right now” and the doctor told me it was only beating 57 BPM.

You know, I’d have told you in the past my least favorite body part was the uterus. But after all the shit I’ve been through in the last month, I’d say it’s definitely the heart.

In the last one, I was sitting on a plane next to a woman and her teenage daughter. The woman was accusing her daughter of stealing cigars when she wasn’t looking.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 7, 2014 After taking a week to get back to me, even though she could’ve done so sooner, I heard from Nane. Unlike Tammy and Andy, who describe Rachel as being “gross” and “scary,” Nane likes her. I’m proud of myself, though, for not getting back to her right away. I probably won’t wait a whole week, but still, no more getting back to her ASAP while she takes her sweet time with me. If I’m not important to her, she’s not important to me.

The pussy cream the doctor gave me has eased a lot of the burning and itching.

Feeling the absolute best and most like my old self since last month! I don’t even have a hint of anxiety and I even rode my bike a mile. :)

Last night I felt a little restless as I was waiting to fall asleep but was determined not to take a chill pill. Besides, as I reminded myself, it wouldn’t knock me out. They didn’t knock me out during the daytime, so they certainly wouldn’t knock me out at night.

“Things take time to get over,” Tom told me, assuring me the anxiety would one day be a thing of the past.

As I lay there, I realized I was aware of my heart racing and got up to check it. It was at 107. As I stood there with my finger in the monitor, I watched it drop into the 90s, got back into bed, and felt fine. Eventually, I drifted off, hoping I’d sleep forever since I wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of dealing with whatever tomorrow may bring.

But I slept my usual 8 hours and woke up fine. No racy heart, no nothing. By then it was after 6am and Tom had left for work. I even had a positive money dream for once, but don’t remember the details. It seemed to have to do with something we were selling that would be an ongoing thing. Not sure if I said this in the form of a question or a fact, but I said something to Tom about being anywhere from very comfortable to rich, and he agreed in a very matter-of-fact way.

A couple of hours later came the big question – should I go out on my bike, should I go out walking, or should I stay inside on the boring treadmill? I had to do something because I didn’t want to fall out of shape, so deciding I couldn’t stay afraid of exercise and riding forever, I took the bike out. My heart rate elevated only in the good way that it’s supposed to when you work out. I don’t like to do just cardio, I like to strength train too, so later or tomorrow some arm and ab work is in order. Being fit is more important to me than whether or not the numbers on the scale and the inches around my waist go down or not.

My only complaint now is a slight ache in my chest that didn’t last long. But now I have a stronger ache on the same side only it’s in back where my left shoulder blade is. I took an ibuprofen, so if it’s the pulled muscle I suspect it is, it will go away soon.

Next door has already been out twice and the last time I heard them loading stuff up in the SUV. They’re not done yet since the thing isn’t parked in the garage. Wish they would slow down!

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 6, 2014 Took my meds at 5am and was hoping to be chill pill-free from here on out, but I felt a little restless on and off till 9am. Before that I went out on my bike but only made one round around the block, not wanting to get my heart going too much. First I had a levothyroxine block to get over, and now I’ve got an exercising block to get over. Elevating my heart reminds me of what happened and I always wonder if part of it is anxiety or all from working out. I’m just afraid of hitting insane heart rates like 161.

According to a chart, however, it says that my max heart rate for my age is actually 175 and my target heart rate when working out can be up to 145. Well, I better get back into the swing of things because while diet makes me lose weight, exercising keeps it off. If I slack off too much I will go back to gaining.

Tired of feeling anxious on and off I took a chill pill. I’m a little disappointed in myself, but at least I went longer this time. I just hope it really is masking anxiety and not side effects. No one else seems to think it could be side effects, so I gotta just trust them.

If I can’t go all day tomorrow without the chill pill, I’ll at least try to go longer. Over the weekend when Tom’s here I would be really surprised – and dismayed – if I needed it. Like I said, if I end up going through this bottle, then I probably need something full-time. Still hoping I won’t, though. Tom doesn’t think I will, but we’ll see.

Not really impressed with my new toe ring, but it’s better than nothing.

I de-cluttered the bookcase by mostly weeding out many of the collectible Barbies. That way there’s less to have to dust.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 5, 2014 Had a sad dream last night where for some reason I wasn’t able to live with Tom. I’d only known him 15 years, though, not 21. I don’t know who I was living with, but every time he would come and visit me I found it very hard not to beg him to take me with him.

Then there was another dream where I was walking my bike, which was having problems. I stooped to try to fix it when I overheard a woman’s voice through an open doorway. Although I could hear her clearly, I don’t remember what she said. I just wanted to hurry up and fix the bike so she wouldn’t spot me and think I was eavesdropping.

I felt wonderful yesterday and so far today, too. Just a little shaky my first hour and then I was fine. Thinking I might skip the lorazepam tomorrow. As I always try to, I’m making a point of focusing on positive, happy things and thoughts as others have suggested to me and as I naturally try to do anyway. Sometimes bad things get in our faces and there’s no avoiding them, but when the choice is mine I choose positive over negative.

We’re having another cool, cloudy day where it looks like it may rain but never does. At least not yet anyway. Very unusual for August. Wanting to get out and get some fresh air, I went out and pulled my bike out. I miss riding regularly. I’m just hesitant to do so till I make sure the anxiety attacks aren’t going to return. Each day that they don’t, I feel a little more confident. But confidence takes time, so I thought that rather than do a 2-mile round around the park, I’d just make 5 rounds around the circle which would be a mile. But after just one round, Virginia was heading toward me.

Not surprisingly, she was curious about why the paramedics were out last month and I told her I accidentally took too much of the levothyroxine I was given for hypothyroidism. I had to laugh when she said that now she could tell everybody what happened. When you live in a retirement community, people tend to know those around them and feel a sense of concern and curiosity not often found in regular neighborhoods.

Anyway, it turns out she’s on the exact same meds. Also, she was given the same thing for anxiety and both she and Bob take statin medication.

She kept saying I look great and that it’s her fault that she never loses weight because she loves to eat. Me too, though as long as I’m not in the obese range I’m not worried about it. I wasn’t going to tell her that, though, cuz she clearly is obese.

She asked again if we could hear them and what my schedule was and what I did and all that and I told her that I don’t really have a schedule. I also told her all I hear are car doors and landscaping but nothing else. Told her I write and do artificial intelligence work online as well.

I asked her if she noticed more loud car stereos and she said not so much as vehicles that are loud themselves. Yeah, there does seem to be a lot of loud pickups and even some cars. I’m still amazed at just how much traffic goes through this park.

I asked about the first people in here before the last couple and she said it was a woman named Fay who lived alone but was very active. Alone in a house this big?! A 1-bed, 1-bath would be just fine for me if I were alone, but just like some people who have had kids say they can’t imagine life without them, I can’t imagine ever going back to living alone like I did for about 9 years prior to meeting Tom no matter what the size of the place may be. Anyway, Fay moved to another state and died in her 90s. “No one that lives in your house dies young,” she told me, LOL.

They’re from Minnesota and I told her we sometimes think of hitting Florida when he retires, but don’t know if we really will or not. So much can happen in the next 13 years.

When I told her I was originally from Massachusetts and that Tom was originally from Arizona, which was where we met, and how we spent a few years in Oregon before coming to Cali, she said she thought my accent sounded northeastern. Yeah, I guess that no matter how many years I live in the West I’ll always sound like a “Masshole.”

Her SIL’s from England and we got on the topic of accents and languages. I threw a few lines at her in Spanish, Italian and German and she agreed it must come in handy to know. It does. Plus it’s fun. Learning languages is hard but has always been like a game to me as well, and I play it well, too.

I was complaining to Tom that the levothyroxine makes my periods heavier, but as he reminded me, they make them normal. Three days is normal for a woman, not those late periods I would get that would flow heavy for just 5 hours and then spot off to nothing in a day. I thought it was menopause setting in even though I’m still kinda young.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Someone anonymously asked this on Ask and I swear I’ve been asked this before. I smell Mrs. M in this one. It’s the first name to pop into mind anyway.

Then someone, who appears to have asked Aly questions as well, was asking me about blogging and if I made a decision as to where I’m going to blog and all that. Kim?

I asked Aly if she thought some of the poorly worded questions we’ve both gotten could’ve come from Kim, and she wasn’t sure. She says Kim claims Ask doesn’t work for her but isn’t sure what to believe and knows she has to tread lightly where Kim is concerned. Kim is such a people pleaser that she can’t tell facts from lies when she talks to her. We both agree Molly is the lesser of the two evils. Molly may follow and sometimes contact you, but she isn’t the vicious stalker Kim can be, and Molly is always Molly. But even Molly needs some restraints of caution, as Aly admits. She’s changed, yes, but she can still get a bit clingy and demanding.

Aly was thrilled to get my email. I admit I do miss our chats and speculating what the trolls are up to. She has too much good to just throw away forever. I think she’s just a little confused as to what she wants and what’s best for her and can be very softhearted and forgiving. She swears she never tried to sabotage my friendship with Adonis or hack into any accounts. She also says she didn’t mean anything malicious in not being forthright about the trolls and can totally understand why I felt the way I did. She said she never had Molly added while we were friends on Facebook. Kim, yes, but she had me blocked since she always loves to play the victim when it comes to those she’s harassed.

Andy still drives me nuts at times with the same old, same old shit. God. Food. Celebrities. It’s like that’s all his life is about; his delusions about God, his beloved food, and the celebrities he worships so damn much. Really hope he can leave these things at home when he comes to visit.

Tammy's doing better but is tired. Mark’s lonely up in CT waiting for the house to close and the girls haven’t even seen her since they moved down to FL. They just got jobs, so I guess they’re preoccupied with that. Plus, I notice that typical selfishness in them that we all experience in our 20s where we don’t really appreciate our family much. Oh, they appreciate the hell out of each other and I’m sure they see each other all the time. But when it comes to parents (other than their abusive dad) and aunts, they really don’t care much. I’ve noticed long ago that I hear way more from people in other countries that I’ve never met than I ever will from my nieces. In some ways, this is a good thing, though, cuz then I might have to hear all about the prick that will hopefully croak of its cancer soon.

Becky and Sarah are strange. It’s like they’re more than sisters. It’s like they’re soul mates. Probably due to their looks, they only have each other. I just can’t imagine either of them ever dating, especially Becky.

MONDAY, AUGUST 4, 2014 Not sure I’m looking forward to being left alone all week as the last of the anxiety fades away for what will hopefully be forever. Just one minute of that awful feeling is like an hour and I don’t ever want to feel it again! Gonna chill pill it when Tom leaves for the next few days just to be on the safe side and give me that extra boost of confidence. I’m hoping that by the end of the week, I will feel strong enough to go without that.

Woke up several times during the night and once I considered chill-pilling myself back to sleep, but instead I just waited patiently for my body to fall back asleep on its own. Again, I don’t want to get addicted to the stuff.

My goal will be to keep busy as much as possible. The lorazepam may make me drowsy, so I may have to take it easy here and there. I’m going to mostly do some cleaning, ab exercises, and then my usual online stuff.

Later…

The day’s going great so far. A little shaky the first hour or so, but I’ve been fine ever since. The question is, am I fine because of the chill pill, or would I be ok either way? Tom thinks I would be and I hope he’s right. In another day or two, I’ll skip the chiller. Stuff still makes me drowsy, but it didn’t knock me out. It just made me take longer to clean the section of the house I cleaned today. I do it in 4 sections in 4 days rather than all at once. It’s easier that way, especially since it’s so big. Hell, just dusting the 8 living room/dining room window blinds takes time.

It definitely does look like the doctors do know what they’re doing after all, LOL, and that it was anxiety brought on by the double dose of levothyroxine and not the levothyroxine itself.

Anyway, I just hope that whatever landscaping or home improvement jobs that are on for today will be my only annoyances. If it weren’t for the drowsiness they cause, I could really get used to these chill pills and can clearly see how addicting they could become. I expect, however, to make a full recovery by the end of the week and be free of the chill pills altogether. I just hope I never ever again experience such God-awful anxiety ever again in my life. It was truly torturous and horrible in every sense of the word. I’d rather killer period cramps. They hurt, but at least they’re not terrifying. But when your heart races up a storm, you can’t breathe, you feel dizzy and this strange sensation rushes through your head and down your shoulders and arms… I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. Well, second-worst enemy. :)

Can't believe it took next door till 10:30 to make their first trip out. I’m sure she’ll park in the driveway when she returns and that it’s not her/their only trip out today.

I also can’t believe it’s August! It’s so cloudy and chilly in here. It’s going to be hours till the AC kicks on, but it will come on since we are on for 88° today.

We moved the rats into the ferret cage because it’s so much easier to clean, and Romeo was kind enough not to make the mess he used to make by pushing bedding out all over the floor.

I tweeted to Aly and asked her a question on Ask. She answered the question. I “liked” one of Molly’s answers and she apologized for past problems she’s caused me and said she wanted to be friends and prove she’s a changed person.

I never thought I’d say this but I do believe Molly has changed to some degree. I can tell this just by how less often she visits my blog. But there’s still a clinginess about her that makes me not want to get too close. I’ll answer a few questions here and there on Ask, but that’s about it. Besides, she’s not very bright and she still has severe mood swings. She asked what made me want to hurt myself and I had to explain that the OD was accidental.

I had sexual dreams and a couple of dreams that my endo doc was in, and what is it with schools lately in my dreams?

I don’t really remember the sexual dreams very well, but it seems that when I have them I’m performing solo and not with someone else. A sign that I’m on my own? Even if I was suddenly horny as hell, that doesn’t mean Tom would be, too.

The first one Maruja, as I’ll call my endo, was in a college. It turns out that she was teaching a course there. I’m not sure what it was or if she knew me, but she seemed to have a thing for me. In a good way, that is.

In another dream, we were a definite pair. We were over someone’s house that was having a party or some kind of get-together. We had a baby with us. It seemed to be ours, though I don’t know if I was younger in the dream and I was the one that had it, or if we adopted it. Maruja got pissed as hell at me at one point and practically dragged me out of the place. Others were worried she would harm me and I said, “Don’t worry. She won’t. She’ll just yell at me a while.”

Once we got home, some people at the party we left called the house to be sure I was ok.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 3, 2014 My 32” Jade doll has worn the same shoes since 1999 and they have become discolored. So now she has new shoes! They’re size 3-6 months and are sneakers of a soft cloth-like material as opposed to canvas. They’re pinkish orange with silver glitter and blue hearts. The laces are ribbons instead of traditional shoelaces.

My 24” Hillary doll that I got from Goodwill also had old, discolored shoes and she’s now wearing silver glitter shoes in size 0-3 months.

Jasmine got a new outfit since I never really cared for her original one. It’s just a pink swimsuit with matching flip-flops.

While I am beyond grateful as hell to Tom for his patience and support in dealing with these health issues, and while I appreciate that I’m his number one and how he’d quit his job to take care of me until the funds got so low that he had to get another one, I still feel bad. Ever feel bad/guilty about something you know you shouldn’t and that isn’t your fault, but you still feel bad anyway? Sort of like accidentally dropping a heavy book on someone’s foot. You didn’t mean it and they know you didn’t mean it, but you still feel bad anyway. Well, it’s like that. I feel bad that I have had to hog so much of his time and attention and that I’ve been costing us a fortune (we owe a couple hundred for the biopsy), but I know he is the one person who truly, TRULY loves me for he has NEVER complained.

I felt ok for the most part yesterday but got drowsier than expected when I took a chill pill a half-hour after taking the levothyroxine. I also had a few semi-anxious moments when I became a bit breathy, but nothing major. Today I’ve gone chill pill-free, but may chill when Tom leaves for work tomorrow just to be on the safe side. I had felt slightly off a few times earlier, but again, nothing major. I even dyed my hair. You can see how thin it is now in front due to the meds, but I’m not bald, so I can’t complain too much. The loss of my tan and hair is pretty trivial right now as opposed to how I feel.

Since it’s been about a week since that scare of a heartbeat of 161 when an attack hit me while bike riding, Tom went with me this morning (exercise is always good for him anyway) and we went for a short ride just to see how I’d do. He reminded me to feel free to stop if I needed to. I stopped at the crest of the hill just to make sure my heart would slow down when it was supposed to. When it did, we coasted down the hill (the part of my route I find most fun), looped around the lake and headed back uphill. My heart was booming like it was supposed to at about 130 and not an insane 161, so that was good. I have felt great ever since! I just hope I continue to feel this way. Each day that goes by that I feel good will gain my confidence back. How I still wish I could wind the calendar back to the 9th and undo the accidental double dose! That’s no doubt what’s caused these waves of anxiety.

Later we’re going to put the rats in another cage that’s much easier to clean. Only problem is that since Hoodie didn’t get that big, the little devil may escape. Even Sugar’s not that big, but he’s disabled. Romeo’s huge, though, so he won’t escape, but he may push the bedding out all over the place. I don’t know why he does that, but we’ll see.

Had two disturbing and one cool dream last night. In the first disturbing one, I said something like “Are you worried things will get worse?” to Tom and he nodded. The house we were in didn’t look like ours and it couldn’t have been in an adult community because tons of screaming kids could be heard outside.

Then in another dream, I was going to this school of some kind, though I don’t know what for. When the alarm went off, Tom was already at work and I realized I hadn’t slept a wink. I had no energy whatsoever to go to school. So I called and told him I needed to catch up on my sleep and he wanted to come home. I assured him I was fine, just tired. I didn’t want him to risk his job by leaving work.

The cool dream was speaking both Spanish and German. I was telling Nane in German that the buildings we were walking by weren’t old, and then I was speaking in Spanish to some guy at an intersection I was waiting to cross on foot. He was on his bike and was speaking Spanish to himself. He told me in Spanish that he likes to speak his thoughts aloud in Spanish as a means of practicing and I said I liked to do the same thing at times, also in Spanish.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 2, 2014 Yesterday turned out to be anxiety-free, for the most part. I felt the most like my old self since this shit began on the 9th.

I am determined as hell to have another anxiety-free day, even though it’s back to my thyroid and cholesterol meds today. In a few hours, it is, when my stomach’s had a chance to empty out. That’s when I’ll take my levothyroxine. I’ll take the other pill at the end of my day. I’m still going to chill pill it a half-hour after taking the levothyroxine for about a week or so until I can see that I’m ok and no harm has come to me. I chill-pilled as Tom was leaving for work yesterday and it didn’t knock me out or anything like that. 0.5 is a very low dose when it comes to lorazepam.

When I take that pill Tom and I both will remind me that it can’t hurt me, it was only in my mind thanks to scaring the shit out of myself when I accidentally double-dosed, there’s no evil God out to get me, it’s a supplement and not a medication, just like he and a follower whose input I really appreciate said. She has reminded me of this fact as well as being more careful about names. Oh, I’ve always changed or dropped last names, but she got me to realize that if I’m Googled, certain people might know whom I’m talking about even without last names. While it may be true that people should think before wronging others if they don’t want it mentioned anywhere, I don’t want to deliberately offend people. I write to express my life, my feelings, and my experiences, after all. Not to piss people off.

Going to Walmart in a few hours and I guess that’s it for now.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 1, 2014 The blood has been drawn and the verdict is in. My TSH levels are high at 16 which is probably my fault thanks to the meds putting such a fear complex on me that I had coffee too soon after taking the stuff the last two days. This blocks absorption. So now my pituitary gland is back to shouting these useless commands to my thyroid.

So it wasn’t the pill, but it was. The OD put such a serious mental block on me so that even though side effects are rare and no one’s ever died from the stuff, it’s triggering these horrible anxiety attacks I thought were sudden killer side effects. The only time you should be jittery from the meds themselves is if you’re taking too much and therefore thrown into the hyperthyroid range.

To back up a bit, Tom went to work yesterday morning and I set about doing some household work like laundry and running the dishes through the dishwasher. I thought I’d be just fine, but OMFG! It was terrible. So terrible and so scary I had him come home. My heart raced like crazy, I felt dizzy, I couldn’t breathe. It was like I was suffocating even though our little finger monitor said I was at my usual 99% oxygen level. Still, it was just so, so awful! I felt like I was going to die.

We went to the lab at 9:00 and I got the blood drawn by the same Asian lady that left me bruised last time. She did a good job this time. I have tiny veins, so it wasn’t her fault. My veins are child-size, LOL.

We then got a bite to eat at Carl’s Jr. and came home. I was surprisingly tired and probably depressed too, not just from all that was going on, but PMS as well. I slept from 10am – 4pm. When I got up at that time I not only found my erotic wall statue had arrived (she’s lovely) but my blood work results were also posted online.

We talked about it and as Tom said, I’ve got this thing in my head that has convinced me the meds are bad, the meds are bad, the meds are bad… The mind, unfortunately, can be a powerful thing.

“But I don’t believe I’m tall,” I told Tom.

“No, but you believe you’re fat.”

LOL, I think everyone does whether it’s true or not. Either way, I’ve stopped taking the levothyroxine and I think the only way to fully get over my anxiety is a change in meds. There are half a dozen or so thyroid medications and people do often make changes. Given the blood work results and what my PCP doc said as well as what my endo doc may have to say, I could probably continue the levothyroxine and gradually get over my anxiety trips, but I’d rather not.

Tom even inspected the stamp on the pill and checked online to be sure they were indeed the correct dose. Lucky for them too, or I’d sue the shit out of the pharmaceutical and move to Maui.

Still tired, I went back to sleep from something like 5pm – 10pm. I have “coincidentally” felt very much like my old self since being up and skipping the levothyroxine. Funny, ain’t it? rolls eyes sarcastically

I may chill pill it when Tom leaves just to be on the safe side. On the meds or not, these things can sneak up on you at any time, and when they do they attack with a vengeance. It’s a horrible, horrible experience to go through.

Meanwhile, I have a nice silver toe ring on the way with black footprints which I’ve purchased with my online earnings.

I was going to help the guy who owns Kiwibox with weeding out spammers, but I’m not sure I’m up to the task right now. I need to get my life back on track before I focus on other things. Why oh why did my thyroid have to fail in the first place?!

Later…

So I guess I’m not changing meds after all. The doc, who knows what’s been going on with me, recommends I stick with the same stuff. She said the alternative to levothyroxine would be the so-called "natural hormone" which is thyroid hormones from pork thyroid glands, dried and powdered for treatment that in general, it is more difficult to adjust the dose of thyroid medication. Then she said to come and see her if I want to discuss changing meds further.

Well, I sure as hell aren’t about to take that pill till Tom’s home tomorrow. Then a half-hour after it’s had time to absorb I’ll be chill-pilling it till I can see that I can take it without issue for a while and that yes, it was just anxiety triggered by accidentally double-dosing myself and not side effects I was experiencing.

One thing I can say for sure is that today I’m the most anxiety-free I’ve been in weeks. I just really hope it’s cuz not taking the pill today has eased my anxiety and not because I was one of those super rare people who was suffering side effects that are now diminishing as the meds leave my system.

Hazel was chosen as the resident of the month, so we saw in the monthly crier. We saw her sweeping the streets the first time we came to check the park out. We thought she worked for the park or something, LOL. She’s 80 years old and she lost her husband 21 years ago. They mentioned how anyone who lives near her has the “cleanest” streets (referring to her sweeping obsession), haha. Her husband and 3 kids used to work in the landscaping business. One daughter is in Utah and then she had a son that fell when trimming a tree and died. Aw. :(

She’s lived here 8 years now and her other daughter comes around to help make sure she remembers to eat, take her meds, and lock her door. She was a swimsuit model in her younger years and gave judo demonstrations.

I have absolutely had it with Kiwibox and all its 10 million glitches and problems! The 1000 entries I have there can just sit there forever, and the nice but clueless owner can figure his problems out all by himself or get others to help.

I did hear from Aly after all. She insists she doesn’t use her hacking experience for fun, though she admits she has definitely kept some things from me. She’s too likable to hate for just a few flaws, but I’m not going to add her back on Facebook or anything. Just keep in casual contact. Besides, she’s proven I’m not the kind of person she’d rather keep in contact with that often, so casual contact is fine.

Sometimes I wonder if Andy’s playing with my head or if he’s just that brain dead. He insists EVERY journal entry of mine talks of weight, but that’s totally not true. There are other little things that make me wonder about him, too.