#waaaaaaaaaaaah ignore me

[gen-is-gone]

I love being ~insecure~

[mcx7demonbros]

Unexpected Sight

Ft. The Demon Brothers, especially Lucifer, Lucius (MC's kid) (Lucius is some months old in this fic), Klein (my MC)

Warning: none except that I'm not a parenting expert

Summary: the brothers went to the kitchen at night for different reasons, and they were greeted by an unexpected sight

The sound of footsteps could be heard in the corridor of the House of Lamentation at the time that is equivalent to midnight in human world. A certain orange-haired demon was walking towards the kitchen, where the fridge was.

However, upon coming close to the kitchen, Beelzebub realized the light was on and he could hear small crying sounds.

(Is someone in the kitchen?) Beel thought before peeking inside.

"Lucius, your food is nearly done." Lucifer said as he was patting the baby Lucius in his arms.

"Waah waah" Lucius seemed to take no heed of his father's words and kept crying.

Lucifer was tired but he looked at his son with soft and caring gaze before grabbing the kettle and poured the hot water into the bottle.

"Let me hold Lucius." Beel came over and offered his help.

"Thank you, Beel." Lucifer nodded at his younger brother and handed the baby to him.

"Stay with your uncle a little bit while I finish making the food for you." Lucifer said softly again to Lucius.

"Waaaaaaaaah" Lucius didn't seem to care and kept crying.

While Beel was tending to the baby, Lucifer put the powdered formula into the bottle, put the teat and the cap on before shaking it.

Just as Lucifer was shaking the bottle to get the powder to dissolve into the water, the two members of Anti-Lucifer League stepped inside the kitchen while discussing among themselves.

"Lucifer wouldn't expect it." Satan said with an evil grin on his face.

"I could imagine his grumpy face right now." Belphie replied with a laugh.

"Then-"

Both Satan and Belphie stopped when they saw Lucifer's grumpy face, it seemed the eldest had heard everything they were discussing. However, the fact that Lucifer was shaking a milk bottle in his hand made him look less scary, hilarious even, to the point Satan and Belphie almost burst out laughing, and they would have if they hadn't known for whom Lucifer was doing this.

Ignoring them, Lucifer checked the bottle again to make sure all the powder had dissolved. Then he checked the temperature of the formula with his wrist. The eldest then put the bottle under cold water to cool down the hot temperature.

"Waaa-" Lucius's cry stopped immediately after Lucifer got him back into his arm and put the bottle into his mouth. The baby opened his deep pink eyes to look at his father, as if he was innocent and didn't cause his father any headache or fatigue just a moment before.

Lucifer didn't say anything but smiled at Lucius.

Suddenly, the secret door to the kitchen opened and Asmodeus emerged from it.

"Why are you guys he-... Awww, what a wholesome sight!" Asmodeus immediately took his phone out and prepared to take a picture.

However, Lucifer turned away, blocking Lucius from Asmo's phone's camera.

"C'mon, Lucifer, just one pic, I won't post it on Devilgram. I'll share that pic only to Klein."

Only with the conditions Asmo promised that Lucifer turned around, letting the fifth-born take a picture of him feeding Lucius.

Right after Lucius finished the formula bottle, Lucifer pat on his back to help him digest his meal.

BURP

"Now that you are full, let Dada put you back to sleep." Lucifer said after his son let out a large burp, with Asmo and Beel smiled to the wholesome scene, while Satan and Belphie rolled their eyes.

"Why is everyone here?" Mammon said loudly, almost like shouting, when he entered the kitchen.

"Are we having a midnight snack scene like in the anime?" Levi said with a laugh.

Hearing the loud noise, Lucius's eyes that were preparing to close for sleep opened wide again.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAH"

"Dada's here, Dada's here..." Lucifer tried to pacify his crying son as he glared at his two loud brothers.

"You guys are done for." Belphie whispered to Mammon's and Levi's ears.

"N-no way" Mammon and Levi wanted to cry like Lucius.

Meanwhile, at the human realm...

It was already past midnight when Klein finished his Overlord works, which required for him to be present himself. As the Overlord returned to his room inside his Fortress, he took out his DDD and saw a message from Asmodeus in the group chat of the House of Lamentation members.

It was a picture of the Avatar of Pride feeding his son, who is like a copy version of himself. Klein reacted with a heart emoji before messaging "I'll be home first thing tomorrow" before getting to bed, exhausted but looking forward to tomorrow.

This is my self-indulgent fic, I hope you guys like it :3

[ahaura]

lb for mando s3e1

anyway i still think its fucking stupid that the armorer declared din no longer mand on account of him taking of his helmet ONE TIME to say goodbye to HIS SON

DIN AND BABY TO THE RESCUEEEEEEEEEEE

i understand that the armorer is coming at this from like. having her entire people wiped out but the fact that din has to convince her that he CAN be redeemed is so silly like lil baby grogu TELL HER TELL YOUR DAD IS A MANDALORIAN

GROGU WANTING TO CUDDLE WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I GONNA CRY

grogu making the spinny chair spin my boy <3

yes im ignoring half the plot for my frog son what about it

i might be night picking but something about this feels so...wooden? idk maybe im just not feeling it

DIN? WANTING A DROID TO COME WITH HIM? CRAZEE

something something remember when anakin built threepio something something din choosing a droid that he can trust not with just his own life but his child's idk idk but i SEE it

oh my god that's probably straight out of din's nightmares like that nursery droid turned back into a killer trying to kill his son and all he can do is shoot and do nothing but it takes a metal bust of greef karga is to kill it. it never ends huh

GROGU GRABBING THE LIL DROIDSMITH AHAHAHAHAHAH

rip to karga trying to hire mando but no dice

IM SOBBING IM CRYING DIN IS TEACHING GROGU ABOUT WHAT IS TO BE A MANDALORIAN BECAUSES THATS HIS SON THAT HIS FAMILY AND ITS TRADITION WAAAAAAAAAAAAH

"you killed 4 of my brothers in cold blood" arent you like. a pirate. who also probably kills people. hes a bounty hunter what do you expect

"your cult gave up on us long before the purge" PRETTY SURE HE WAS A FUCKING CHILD? BITCH?

bo katan is soooooo funny "YOU are the reason our people fractured" pretty sure it started long before that like there was infighting there was civil war there was exile and THEN the empire decided to bomb mandalore and kill mandalorians en masse like there are multiple factors that contribute to the fracturing of the mandalorian people and the splintering of its culture but like. din isnt one of them lmao?????? but she is also a product of the horror that was the decimation of mandalore shes no different from the armorer on that front but what they DONT know is that there are supposed to be UNIVERSAL MANDALORIAN TENETS that BOND THEM TOGETHER in spite of OTHER DIFFERENCES because they have survived for thousands of years by DOING SO like i want to shake everyone in this show by the shoulders like in eu/legends lore even when separated by star systems and species and language mandalorians are supposed to be able to recognize each other by armor and speak mando'a and have the same 7 mando tenets (i think its 7 i'll have to check) its how theyve survived across countless years and obviously thats harder in practice especially after the civil war and the purge and what have you but you like. god i feel like a chihuahua trying to bite a chew toy to death

rip 2 bo katan for wallowing in her castle probably one of the few unscathed remnants of mandalorian architecture and engineering lounging on her throne doing absolutely nothing even when din says "ive come to join you" like i get it but...

anyway that was ep1 i dont really care about the plot im just here for fun and baby grogu and tin can man and i thought it was a bit wooden of an episode idk if thats me and my lack of enthusiasm but it didnt seem to have a lot of spark/love to it

ANYWAY

[shsl-shipper-gamer-fangirl]

A/N: This was just too chaotic to pass up. My problematic sons. 

Other switch AUs: luckster | togami | naegi | detective | maid | liar | protagonist dr1/sdr2 | protagonist dr1/ndrv3 | protagonist sdr2/ndrv3 |  heroine dr1/sdr2 | heroine dr1/ndrv3 | heroine sdr2/ndrv3 | fem protag dr:ae/ndrv3 | mastermind

Troublemaker in the Wrong Game - Komaeda and Ouma

"Stop lying! Stop manipulating! Why don't you just try being nice for once?"

There's nothing inherently wrong with the statement itself... except for who said it.

"Who the fuck are you to lecture us on that?" Kuzuryuu angrily yelled. He sounded like he was just about to commit murder.

"Obviously I'm the good guy!" Ouma huffed defiantly. "And you're all just a bunch of meanies ganging up on me!"

"Now you're just lying straight up from your ass!" Souda pointed at him.

"Am I really the liar? Maybe I'm the only one telling the truth here and all of you are just lying to make yourselves feel better!"

"Eh? Is... Is that t-true?" Mikan nervously asked.

"Of course! Now say you're sorry you fanservice orange!" Ouma yelled all too suddenly for the nurse.

"EH? S-Sorry! I'm so sorry!" She cried.

"What are you apologizing for, pig barf?" Saionji added even more insult. "Yeah, you should be sorry for existing but you shouldn't apologize to this gremlin nightmare."

"Woooow, that really hurts coming from the kid who's definitely shorter than me." Ouma even made a face of mock hurt.

"You know at your height, it's perfect for giving a blowjob to—" Hanamura was abruptly cut off.

"Keep it in your pants Hamham!"

"I think we're getting a bit sidetracked here..." Koizumi took charge to reign in the chaos. "Can we please just get back to the trial?"

"Yeah! I know you all love me but you shouldn't forget that we're playing a game right now! You shouldn't get distracted so easily!" Ouma lectured them on. "By the way, where did we stop?"

"You just confessed to knowing who the culprit is," Pekoyama answered him.

"Oh, that's right." Ouma nodded. "That was a lie of course. I obviously just lied about it just like how I lied about the truth before that was even brought up. Geez, keep up with me you guys."

"Eh?? So wait. If you lied about telling the truth, but that truth was also a lie, but the lie was a lie within a lie, then that means..." Ibuki scratched her head in confusion. "So what is the truth?!"

"You tell me! I don't get it either!"

"I'm can't figure it out either," Owari cracked her knuckles threateningly. "Alright, I'm gonna beat the truth out of you!"

"Waaaaaaaaaaaah!" Ouma bawled like a kid. "Help me! I'm being bullied!"

"No, she will not beat you up," Nidai calmly intervened. "However, that does not excuse your actions."

"Who are you to tell me what's inexcusable?" Ouma suddenly turned serious. "Or have you forgotten that we live on an island where the rules are decided by a bear who wants us to kill each other? Really, can you blame me for making the most out of this game?"

"You indeed reek of sin, you scoundrel," Gundam practically spat his spite. "To take pleasure in the struggles of innocents, your malice knows no human bounds."

"Well don't blame me if you're bad at murder and killing games. That's on you," Ouma rebuffed.

"Please, you do not wish to perish, right? Then why not just simply cooperate with us and tell us what you know," Sonia almost pleaded.

"Geez, this is the problem with ungrateful talented jerks. They think they can get everything easy." Ouma sighed. "That's so annoying! So boring! I hate all of you!"

"Hey, Ouma," Nanami softly spoke. "If you keep telling lies and hurting people, you'll get misunderstood easily. And that would be sad and lonely... I think."

"Hmmm?" Ouma eyed her levelly. "You know, rather than waste your detective gaming skills analyzing me, you should  focus more on catching the culprit if I were you, Nanamemes."

"Just cut the bullshit already," Hinata warned. "We're going to cut through your lies anyway so let's just get this over with."

"You say that as if you hate my lies." Ouma frowned but that didn't last long. "But I wonder... Which one will you hate more? Lies or the truth?"

Ouma was grinning and it sent a foreboding feeling throughout the room.

"Would you rather have a kind lie or a cruel truth?"

Meanwhile, in another class...

"How wonderful! The despair of losing a classmate is no match against your sparkling hopes!"

There's nothing inherently wrong with the statement itself... except for who said it.

"Um, while I agree with your sentiment, it is confusing to determine what to feel overall considering that you had a hand in the despair in the first place," Kiibo warily voiced out.

"Oh, are you saying that I helped despair instead of hope? I see..." Komaeda pondered on that for a moment. "Ah, but don't worry! I'm rooting for hope, of course. I just created a small despair to be a stepping stone for your hope!"

"This so called stepping stone of yours is our dead classmate," Hoshi glared.

"Yes, it is quite unfortunate to lose Amami." Komaeda sighed wistfully. "I was looking forward to seeing what amazing hope he held inside of him."

"Inside him? Didn't know you swung that way, Cumaeda!" Iruma hollered.

Komaeda neither confirmed nor denied it. Perhaps he just ignored the inappropriate comment altogether. "It's such a shame that garbage like me has survived and yet dear Amami is gone too soon. It would seem that my shsl luck has cycled towards bad this time."

"You speak so fondly of Amami and yet you had killed him," Kirumi said matter-of-factly. "Why then would you choose him to be your victim?"

"Did I kill him though, I wonder..." Komaeda cryptically dropped. "Well I will tell you that Amami was definitely not the intended target. In fact, I didn't have anyone specific in mind at all. He just happened to walk by at the wrong place and at the wrong time."

"You degenerate male! Are you saying that you could have killed anyone in this room?" Tenko asked with a threatening pose.

"Yes, I thought that much was obvious," Komaeda spoke as if it was the most uninteresting fact in the world.

"Why? Do you really want to get out so badly?" Yumeno quietly asked.

"Oh, no. Trash like me don't deserve a place anywhere, much less getting just myself out when there are people here who are worth so much more than me."

"Oi oi, are you saying you killed someone with no intention of leaving this place at all?" Momota asked, concerned.

"Hmmm. Maybe?"

"Do you want to die?" Maki asked with a sharp glare.

"Honestly? If it helps your hope shine then I would gladly offer my life!" Komaeda laughed all too happily that it was disturbing.

"Ooooh! If you want to die so badly then Atua is taking sacrifices!" Angie innocently offered.

"Wow, really? That's too good of a deal. My worthless life in exchange for the betterment of your hope. That's way too good of a deal!" Komaeda exclaimed.

"No! Gonta don't want friend to die!"

"I..." And then the oddest thing happened. Komaeda started crying. "You truly are the embodiment of hope. To think that someone would be so concerned over scum like me... Maybe I am lucky after all."

"Hey, Komaeda. I have one question." Saihara who has been quietly pondering all this time, finally spoke up. "Have you ever tested your trap?"

"Not at all," Komaeda flatly answered. "I don't need to because I already have luck."

"Luck? Oh, I get it!" Shirogane clapped her hands. "Since your talent is luck, you were already confident that the shot put ball would hit the target regardless."

"How curious, kukuku." Korekiyo laughed. "A person who could bend luck towards their favor. Is this the truth behind your talent?"

"Ahaha, it's hard to tell. As long as it's possible, no matter how small the odds are, then I can still luck out and I do. However, my luck has a cycle," Komaeda explained. "If something good happens then something equally bad will happen after. And vice versa. But I'm used to it. After all, but everything works out for me in the end."

"Wait... Your luck cycles..." Akamatsu turned to him as if she had been struck with an epiphany. "Then... is killing Amami good or bad luck?"

"Hmmm, who knows? I honestly can't tell until after the fact."

"But you said that in the end, everything works out for you. That means you always achieve what you aim for no matter how roundabout the method is." Akamatsu reiterated. "You said it yourself. Killing Amami wasn't your goal, it was only a means. You've yet to say what your true goal is."

"What of it though?" Komaeda asked with feigned ignorance.

"That's... That's right." However, it was Saihara who answered. "Komaeda said he never tested the trap so we can't confirm if it works. If we say that the trap relies purely on his luck and if his luck depends on his motives then... Then we need to know Komaeda's motive before concluding that he is the culprit."

Komaeda simply smiled in return.

"Won't you show me just how brilliant your hopes are?"

The two troublemakers continued to struggle with trials of their own and unbeknownst to them that they were in the wrong class.

[ask-postgame-v3]

"*Hic* Monokuma had the nerve to come onto Himiko while Dammy and I were in the room... Such a pervert..."

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAH! I'M SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO TRAUMATIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIZED!"

"N-Nyeh...?! We didn't do anything like that...! D-Don't listen to Kokichi, anybody...! He's such a liar...!"

Kokichi ignores Himiko.

"Oh, yeah. Himiko and Monokuma were cuddling all night and Dammy couldn't get out of my vice-like grip. He would've had to wake me up if he wanted to go somewhere, which he didn't."

Event: Danganronpa: Mascot’s Massarce. (Side Despair)

*Someone wakes up from their pod. They walk out to find themselves in an unknown room. He looks in a mirror checking to see if something was wrong.*

???: “Hmm. Weird……..Why does it feel like it’s been forever……”

“Since I’ve looked this sexy?” *Monokuma does a sexy little dance just for the hell of it. It seems like he isn’t aware of there being anything wrong. This might bad. If he can’t remember the plan, than things are going to get messy. Can you help him?*

[colitisandme]

Firstly Hi again. I am sorry I have been absent for the past few months. Truth is, I have been feeling rougher than a badgers arse and keeping myself away from people with eyes for their own good. The last few months have been particularly tricky to navigate after my last surprising hospital stay. It did not go well. But I wanted to start this year off by doing a year in review... looking back at what’s happened and try to find a Kum by ya moment in a sea of well of just waaaaaaaaaaaah and arrrrrrrgh! So journey with me through the past 12 months of life, love and quite literally the pursuit of toilet roll.

I greeted January with a hi five and with eternal optimism of what this year could bring, “ This was going to be our year” we said with proud and happy voices, only later sadly discovering my optimism had clearly been marinading in all the new years alcohol, and so drunk, incorreherent and nearly blind stumbled into a ravine where it bobbed about helplessly in a sea of tears before plunging into the abyss. Ideal.

In February, Phyllis Fibro barged her way past my defence system, and squeezed her fat behind into my life and with no warning announced she was going to be here for the duration, turned my limbs to jelly, gave me chronic insomnia, ate all my happy snacks, and let her cats scoot in the trifle of my life. Phyllis is like the relative who turns up for a ‘short surprise visit’ sets up camp in your spare bedroom, deletes all your favourite shows off your tv planner, eats your food out of the fridge, steals your favourite clothes then proceeds to stretch them out and give them back to you when they look like overstretched scrotum... all the time finding new and inventive ways of irritating you on a daily basis. That short stay turns into you finding a truck has turned up at your house bulging at the seems of boxes, clothes 13 clothes horses, giant ball of string, bag of costumes for cats and a yearly subscription to ‘football hooligans and where to find them in your neighbourhood’ in your name. We are not friends, I do not like her and wish she would vacate my body as there is simply no room for her and I think her merely being there is catapulting useful stuff out of my ears and filling the space they used to be with goo. I am sure she takes great delight when I try and blindly grasp for the correct word in a sentence and sweating and stammering exclaim ‘ it’s very nice to meet your umbrella/ sandwich/ watering can’ when I meant to say BROTHER. I am sure she cackles heartily whilst they back away with panic on their faces ... it’s an ideal way to make friends and influence people.

Due to the fact Phyllis was turning my brain, legs and general well being into jelly, I was given medication.... have you ever heard your own heart beat? I have. I have also had the pleasure of replaying the lyrics to a Mcfly song in my head for 8 hours straight.... (am 35 years old and so teen pop should not be the automatic thing my drug induced brain turns too) and had a continuous plot line to ‘How I met your Mother on’ repeat.... These are not brilliant side effects to have at 2 in the morning whilst your husband is blissfully slumbering away in the background and your so tired that you want to chew the pillow and cry. So after several weeks of this, it was decided by everyone within a global radius that that particular medication was not for me. Probably for the best as it felt like my heart was going to explode out of my ears and my pupils were the size of saucers. But after they removed it I realised was just going to be little me vs Phyllis, a battle still going on to this day.

March/April brought the beginning of Lockdown and that endless pursuit of well-being, equilibrium, sanity and toilet roll. A shopping trip was like witnessing snarling animals over a territory dispute...strangers with eyes staring, yelling, barging, arguments over who had the bigger trolley every time we want to a supermarket... People scrabbling to get that last pack of baked beans, bowling grandmas down the isles, sending shoppers flying like bowling pins, climbing over children, ripping open packs of spaghetti then proceeding to stab people’s eyes with it, just to get the last bag of cheesy snacks on the shelf... incoherently grunting at the cowering till workers. Like a scene from Shaun of the Dead. I hoped that a crisis would bring out the best in us, that we would all come together and support and look out for our fellow man but no such luck there. And when you are already battling several illnesses all trying to set up a commune inside your body, the thought of going out into the madness that was unfolding all around us was terrifying.

June/July/August was the summer of isolation. Now I deal with isolation on a daily basis but even when your illnesses do a fabulous job of isolating, you find things, tiny things to focus on, enjoy and look forward to. First good thing in this period of isolation, was that I found out I was nominated for an award FOR MY LITTLE BLOG!!! (Victory cookies, trumpets sounded, woo hoo noises) This was a huge surprise and completely awesome. I was so blessed and felt incredibly honoured to even be considered. I truly think that this was one of the proudest moments and achievements in my life and it’s something I remain hugely proud of. Secondly early during this time myself and my dear friend who runs a hugely successful FB group supporting those who have Microscopic Colitis, decided we were going to come together and write a book about living with Microscopic Colitis including my blogs and stories. This makes me go eeeeeeeeeeeeeeep and almost wee myself with excitement. We can’t wait to put it all together for you all. And thirdly my very clever, very awesome husband had passed his last ACCA exam (Yaaaay) and our bubble was holding strong, Me and my husband were adapting to lockdown life and enjoying our time together. All was good.

For a few months, I ignored my raging body, put my fingers in my ears and loudly sang ‘la la la la’ everytime one threatened to ruin my day... ‘I will just try harder’ I would say or ‘it’s not effecting me’ or ‘it’s not beating me’ ... blindly ignoring the fact that my body was screaming at me... because I am stupidly stubborn. I refuse to let anything beat me... especially illness. However an unfortunate event happened around this time, and after it happened, my illnesses must of all had a pow wow, came together by torchlight and all decided that with no warning they were going to barge past my defences, clobber my Arsenal, scratch their eyes out tromp up and down my body yelling “Na na na na na we told you so” in my ears, whist Phyllis stomped on my limbs. She then got out her mallet, whacked my hands so they blew up, and then proceeded to harness her artistic side and paint my hands blue just coz she thought regular skin colour was ‘so last season’ and using a giant straw sucked all the colour out of my face. Miss Anxiety who was usually fairly quiet in her zen garden of peace, decided now was the perfect time to start learning Death Metal music without wearing earphones, whilst reading me my favourite novel ‘100 reasons why you failed’ at in oppertune hours of the morning. Slowly Colin the colon began blowing himself up like a balloon, and built a giant wall so I couldn’t poop and I shook like a vibrator on setting 4. And I couldn’t stop it... it completely swamped me. All that ‘it doesn’t matter it’s not beating me’ was hogwash all the ‘you’re defying what you should be doing’ from my doctors went out of the window.... I was struggling and I knew it and so did my body and once more I had nothing outside my little bubble to distract me from it.

Which leads me to the worst 3 months since I first had the symptoms of Microscopic Colitis and Colin the Colon began behaving like an uncooperative toddler hyped up on sweeties. I kid you not. Brace yourself.

Now firstly I want to firmly state I am used to pain. I am aware that It’s better to be used to daisies or marshmallows, or stroking puppies but sadly I am used to pain. Phyllis gives me a lot of it on a daily and nightly basis. I also have a high pain threshold. No honestly I do. I can be stoic when in pain. Which is useful. You won’t often know I am in crippling pain unless I tell you. So when I say September was the month we refer to as ‘agonising pain month’ you can be sure it really was. A niggle in mid September, which naturally I ignored, turned into ‘HOLY CRAP WHY IS THE DEVIL DOING A CAN CAN ON MY BACK WHIST INSERTING HOT POKERS THROUGH MY SIDE??’ (Insert 39 creative swear words) I tried to go to my happy place which was replaced by fire and knives, deep breathing techniques, which when applied felt like I was breathing in acid’ and positive thoughts were replaced with demons in a conga line singing a rousing rendition of “boiled and roasted, lightly toasted, fricase and lit and flambéd” in unison. Cue paramedics, more swearing, being sent to hospital via ambulance, sucking gas and air, been given a plethora of drugs, poking, needles, and my right hand side feeling like all my nerves were being forcibly twanged like the strings in a guitar. The pain would not go, it did not change, it didn’t ease, it led to 5 days in 3 different wards where it was too painful to touch my skin, mind numbing exhaustion where it felt like my legs were encased in lead and taking a few steps felt like I had run up a mountain, and showers where I would be huddled over in tears trying to wash myself, keep balance and not shout obscenities at my wash cloth.

When you have on your notes that you have a chronic illness resulting in widespread pain, and you end up in hospital trying to explain your body is trying to leave its self forcibly and quickly through a firery tunnel of woe, guess what happens? They assume it’s the chronic illness. Yep. You are immediately bundled into that catorgory without a second thought. Doesn’t matter the pain was on my right hand side, felt like I was being stabbed through my lung, and have never had anything like it before. Nope. And throughout my whole stay I felt like an imposter. Like I shouldn’t be there. Even though I was in so much pain I couldn’t stand and even lying down made me go cross eyed it felt like I was being judged. Scruitinised. They knew I needed to be there. But somehow made me feel like it was all part of my condition. It wasn’t. The stay was also traumatic. There were some very very poorly people on my ward, having incredibly tough conversations with drs, family, hospice and my heart broke more than once during my stay. And my pain team who I have been under since I was introduced to Phyllis, did not come and see me once. Not cocking once, despite being asked to several times. I was not impressed to say the least.

Once I returned home, (still in sodding pain I might add) I had multiple attacks. One attack was so bad my wonderful best friend had to come and rescue me as I had dropped to the floor and couldn’t get up again... and I was completely on my own at the time so thank Christ she did, or Kyle would have come home to me lying on the floor surrounded by a puddle of wee and tears with chew marks in the carpet, where I have tried to propel myself across the room by my teeth. And the thing about consuming more meds than a pharmaceutical trade convention, is that it effected Colin. He declined to let anything pass, like a hulky bouncer at a club... He denied ANYTHING to go through, for 9 days... after 9 days sweating, cramping, hobbling due to back spasms, red faced eyes bulging and dizzy I presented again in casualty .... so off balance in fact I dropped my phone down the loo in a&e and then panicked trying to scoop out the urine sodden device attempting to drying it out under a dryer... sigh. And would they help with Colin, even though I have a bowel disease? NO! “Wait until you reach 11 days, and if no movement then, then we will intervene” I was told. 11 COCKING DAYS!!!! If there was no movement by 11 days they would not have had to intervene, they would have found me on day 11 swearing, full of a combination of laxatives, prunes and other such things scooting on their bloody floor shouting obscenities at the toilet bowl, trying to get my colon out with a spoon. This bout of constipation led to tearing so much i lost so much blood I filled a toilet bowl and consequently 3 more weeks of hydrocortisone suppositories, laxtatives and pain killers and it’s still effecting me now. Colin is most certainly not my friend at the moment. During this time feeling thoroughly abandoned I sought advice in private health care who discovered during a scan that I had a new resident in my right lung... I call him Filbert the lung goblin. He is a small undertiminable mass and is also not bloody welcome. There is no room. I have made it clear to him that he is not staying long but he ignores me and likes to find ways of stomping on my lung in his big Goblin boots at various times of the day causing me to yell out in surprise and pain.

So fast forward to the present day, complete with Phyllis, Colin, Filbert and god knows who else. I have been to physio for my back, (my right side of my back is rigid) where each session she either gives me exercises through zoom or she bends me like a pretzel and pulls me in different directions in person, (after making sure I have consumed enough painkillers to take down a fully grown Rhino) making my eyes bulge. I have been having regular sessions with a Psychologist who is helping me work on ... well me, and it’s not easy. This new back complication makes it doubly difficult, as even the smallest movement in my right hand side can set off hours of hell and spasms so I have had to have found other ways of moving, writing, working holding things and generally coping. I lost my dear friend a little while ago so I am also grieving in my own way for her. But I am also acutely aware that we and our family are safe when thousands have not been, We and our families are without COVID and allthogh isolation makes things harder, we are blessed we have what we have. It’s difficult to focus on the positive in a sea of crap, but I try to keep looking on what’s there rather than what’s missing. I try to find joy in the small things and am finally realising that I have to slow down. The realisation that I am ill has been a long time coming, and the further acceptance that comes with that is even more difficult. It’s definitely been a journey and even though it’s still one step in front of another, it’s still steps forward in the right direction, and even if I lose the map and veer off course, that’s okay too. It’s okay not to be okay and it’s okay to adjust to your new normal whatever that might be. It’s just another chapter and I think I am going to try and be more kind and accepting of my new normal moving forwards. So I start my year with a new found appreciation of myself, trying to be kinder to myself and trying to open up more to my loved ones. It’s been one hell of a year, but it’s a year of difficulties we have all shared in our own way. And by sharing we support each other. After all no matter what last year threw at us all and no matter what this year brings. We are all in this together. ❤️