#and I had to switch from an in person to virtual appointment with my therapist for tomorrow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

steamishot · 1 year

Text

winter cont.

this time last year, i remember i had some weird tension near my uterus (left side) that i was silently freaking out about. it eventually went away after maybe a month. i’ve recently been having some weird tension on my right side now (where i had a mass taken out) as well as something that feels like tension headaches. it started around the time i got my period two weeks ago and it’s still semi there. it seems that the winter/lack of sunlight and cold weather may play a part in this.

i had my second therapy call this week with my luisa. this meeting went just okay. matt is on night shifts and i wasn’t able to find a private place to speak. the lounges had people, so i went to the children’s play area but had to leave when a mom and her son came in. i ended up just sitting out in the hallway talking. i think that set the tone for a more awkward session. i also didn’t have much to talk about this session because things were generally going well. she spoke like 70% of the time and it was like a teaching lesson. “luisa” is very goal oriented and almost seems more like a coach than a therapist, so feelings were hardly discussed. more so she was big on implementing logic or teaching me how to have a healthier mindset and catching myself when i’m having distortions.

for times that i don’t have much to complain about or share, i think it would be useful to have less structure in the session like how it was with laurie. i spoke about this to K and S (separately). S has been seeing her therapist for almost a year and thinks it may be time to switch to a therapist with a different approach. her current one focuses on how her thoughts/feelings are related to her past and helps pinpoint the causes, however does not really provide her with the techniques on how to get out of that cycle. i think finding a therapist that’s a good fit can be difficult, especially when the issues are overall “mild” and nuanced. because matt has more overt issues (anxiety, trauma, stress, burnout etc. directly from his job) his treatment seems to be more straightforward. on top of his 5 free sessions from work (josephine) he matched with an indian older lady psychologist who seems to be excited to work with him.

we have a couples therapy session with a new person cindy next friday. the last two sessions as well as matt’s individual therapy have helped a lot, even though during the session it doesn’t seem much problem solving was occurring. the act of talking things out helps me get things off my chest, and it helps to have a designated time and space to check in. matt is also better at communication. he used to get frustrated when talking about his feelings for an extended period of time but i think he learned to communicate better by talking to his therapists. as things are progressing and getting better overall, i don’t have as many pressing issues to discuss. the anxiety is improving, our quality time is improving, the amount of time we have is improving, the money is improving, etc. so i think i’ll approach it as a “fine-tuning” (knock on wood that we don’t start going back to bad communication this week).

one thing discussed during therapy was health anxiety. i realized i have not had a physical check up since 2017. i avoided the hospital whenever i could during all of covid (only going to get shots) and sticking to virtual appointments. i haven’t had any blood drawn since 2018 and am avoidant because i hate needles and blood. my first step to confronting health anxiety is to get a check up. i scheduled an appointment for 2/24 when i’m back in LA.

edit: after i wrote about this, matt and i argued about dumb shit again before his night shift (again involving deals). it’s night 5 of 7 so it’s not surprising that the emotions/sensitivity are high and our bad communication has resurfaced. at least now i have something to talk about in therapy.

0 notes

nightingiall · 4 years

Text

things i love about you: you’re too good be all mine

a post-little do you know drabble series // story page

anon asked: how are moniall dealing with quarantine?

Being at home all the time wasn’t something Mona really minded.

For one, the world was in a strange place at the moment and she’d very much rather be in her own space than outside. But also, it meant she and Niall got to spend more time with one another, which was not a luxury they were afforded for the past few weeks. They didn’t have to rush out of bed in the mornings and didn’t have to haphazardly slap together breakfast. While they still tried to stick to a schedule, considering they were both working from home, there was a lot more time in the day they could spend taking their time on the important things.

The first week or so was spent trying to get into the swing of things. Working from home wasn’t as easy as she initially thought; the distractions were endless and her self-control was often slim to none. Still, she somehow managed to get her work done and also catch up on some household chores that she hadn’t had time for; although, Niall did laugh at her when he caught her putting together a contraption that would clean that space where the refrigerator met the cupboard.

By week three or four—Mona lost track quickly, the days blurring together like watercolor paint—she thought she was holding up alright. Niall was obviously way better at the whole self-isolation thing than she was though. He was good at creating routines and sticking to them, always the level-headed one in their relationship. He even organized Zoom meetings with their friends so they could catch up or watch a movie or have a few drinks or do all of the above.

Mona was fine too. She missed her walks to work or hanging out with Jingle at Connemara’s, but she also enjoyed being at home, in a space she and Niall had meticulously arranged to suit their personalities and needs. He had his own music corner, the kitchen was stockpiled with everything they would ever need, the options for meals endless, and they had a reading nook that they shared. It was a comfortable bench under a large window, the warmest throw blanket folded neatly on top, where they often spent their free time with their legs tangled together and eyes on a good book.

She tried to be productive but had her lazy days too, mostly when her job didn’t require much from her and she had the rest of the day to lounge about. But sometimes, Mona faltered. It wasn’t her fault, it was just something wired strangely in her brain that had her slipping into dark places sometimes. A never-ending pit of insecurities and worries. Her thoughts would buzz incessantly, one after the other, drowning all together until they created a din that was like bees buzzing around a beehive.

Depending on the day, she could handle it differently. She’d call her friends to catch up or bake something sweet or watch one of her favorite movies, general things that usually made her happy since going out for a walk—in New York City, nonetheless—was virtually out of the question. Or she’d lounge about with her sunshine boy, making him talk about the things that made him happy, and he would always happily oblige her, readily pulling her into his arms.

Today, though, seemed to be a particularly bad day, exacerbated by the fact that she didn’t have the energy to even get out of bed and also Mimi, her on-and-off therapist over the past three years, was having internet issues and wasn’t available for their bi-weekly appointments. She was curled up into the blankets, pressing her head into her pillow as though that would aid in quieting the commotion in her mind. She often hated how crippling it could be, how she couldn’t seem to find the energy to move much less do anything useful.

“Darlin’.” Niall’s voice seemed muffled and far away, as though she was drowning underwater and he was just above the surface. But when she felt the warmth of his fingers smoothing across her forehead, she realized he was sitting on the bed behind her, not far away at all. “What’s going on in here, my love?” he murmured softly, lips pressing against her hairline and fingers rubbing circles into her temples as he pulled her into his lap.

The cool air of the room hit her face and she whimpered, feeling excruciatingly exposed, and she turned around to press her face into Niall’s tummy to hide again. She didn’t have it in her to form words. She couldn’t even think straight.

Niall wrapped his arms around her, gently bringing her up so her head was resting against his chest, lips finding her forehead again. “Where’s my Mona darlin’?” He held her tight, warmth blooming into her skin from his, and like she always felt in his embrace, she was safe. “I know she’s in here somewhere,” he continued, lips never leaving her skin. “The house is unbearably quiet without you, my love. Come back to me.”

He said that a lot whenever she got lost inside her head, whenever her mind switched into overdrive and she was suddenly in a daze, a hermit crab retreating into a large, spirally shell, unable to find its way out again. Although, none of those instances were ever as intense as this. This was him reaching into the water in which she was drowning, attempting to pull her out. She pressed harder into his chest, hoping he never let go.

“Come back to me, my Mona darlin’.” He pressed feather-light kisses along her forehead and over her eyes and down her nose, body swaying slightly, as though he was rocking a child to sleep. “I love you. Come back to me.”

Mona couldn’t help the way guilt pooled hot and blistering into her stomach, those unsolicited notions of never being able to be good enough for him now slinking around with the already loud thoughts in her head. Here he was, holding her close, immeasurably wonderful, murmuring sweet words into her skin. And there she was, paralyzed in this world of intolerable desolation, unable to do much else besides hold on to him and wish to the highest power in the universe that he didn’t eventually get sick of her.

“No no no,” he whispered quickly at the first telltale sign of her onslaught of tears, wobbling lips and trembling hands, his fingers already swiping at her cheekbones to catch any moisture that had not yet fallen. “Don’t cry. It’s not your fault.” At his words, she clenched her eyes shut, desperate to keep any potential tears at bay. She felt as though she was clawing for the surface, trying to reach his hand through the current of the water and missing each time. “I’m here for you, love.”

And, oh, how she wanted to give him the whole world. She wished she was half as good for him as he was infinitely perfect for her. It was often times like this when she wondered how she even got so lucky as to call him hers. She inhaled a long and shuddery breath, whimpering as she summoned all her willpower to attempt to quell the war raging in her head, because in her heart of hearts, she knew he was right, knew it wasn’t her fault she sometimes tripped into this chasm of overthinking that seemed to be a never-ending black hole. But she still felt hopelessly inadequate at times.

Niall had somehow maneuvered them until they were settled under the blanket, wrapping his arms snug around her as she used his chest as a pillow, one hand finding his as the other curled into his shirt, her anchor in this storm. “You can tell me when you need me to love you a little extra sometimes.” His voice was starting to sound less muffled, syrupy sweet and hushed in their already silent room, as if he didn’t want the walls to hear, as if his words were only meant for her ears. “And when I need it you can love me extra. But I’m always here for you.”

Mona held onto him tightly, letting his words wash over her skin, letting them absorb into her, letting them find the war in her mind and fight through the clutter. “I love you,” she managed to mumble out, voice getting lost in the fibers of his shirt. And then, another thought managed to knock his words in her mind down for a moment, and she ended up whispering out, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” he repeated a bit firmer this time, still mouthing the words into her forehead, as though it will reach her mind faster that way. “Not your fault, my darlin’.” She curled up into him, legs tangling within his, trying to focus on the way his hands were smoothing up and down her spine, body a warm weight next to hers, trying to focus on the way he continued to whisper affirmations into her skin. She focused and focused until the thrumming in her head became nothing but white noise, and then slowly, everything became quiet.

She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep until she opened her eyes to find herself in a different position than before, facing the opposite side of the bed, Niall’s chest pressed to her back. His fingers were loose in hers and she gave them the slightest squeeze, turning around to look at him. She was met with the sight of his beautiful sunshine smile, eyes glinting from the sunset light filtering in through their bedroom windows, and there was that thought again, wriggling its way back into her head. He was too good for her.

“Uh oh,” he got out, smile faltering. “You were back with me for a second there, then you started listening to your head again.” Mona sighed, shifting her way to rest her head under his chin and his arms fell around her easily again. “D’you want me to make you something?” he asked quietly, fingers trailing along her arm. “You haven’t eaten all day.” She shook her head against his chest, unable to think about food at the moment. She didn’t think she had the energy to stomach anything for the time being. Niall only allowed her mope for a few more moments before he started to get out of bed. “Come on, love. Get showered and I’ll make you some food, alright? You’ll feel better.” He smoothed her hair from her forehead, pressing a kiss to the skin there before heading off.

It was only until the other side of the bed started to get unbearably cold that she decided she should probably follow his advice and pull herself together. It wasn’t healthy to carry on like this and she knew it had gone on for long enough already. Still, it took her at least another hour to work up the energy and willpower to slide out of bed and let her legs carry her to the bathroom.

The steam from her shower made her feel more awake than she had in days. It somehow cleared her mind, giving her a boost of energy to wash her hair as well, a task she’d neglected during her visit to that dark chasm in her mind. Once she’d slipped into clean clothes—also something she neglected—and slathered moisturizer onto her body, she felt ready to finally leave the room and wander into the rest of their apartment.

“There she is,” Niall murmured as she walked into the kitchen, smile lighting up the entire room as he held out his arms for her and she stepped right into them. “She’s back.” He pressed a kiss to her temple before steering her towards a seat at the kitchen island. “I made you your favorite.” Sure enough, the plate he slid in front of her had a smile curving along her features, piled with fresh samosas, and not the frozen ones from the Indian grocery store. He’d gotten the recipe from Harlow’s mom way back when the two of them last went to San Francisco to visit everyone and he’d nearly perfected his samosa-making skills in the months he spent experimenting with them.

Mona looked up at him only to find his eyes glimmering with love and adoration down at her, and whatever she was planning to say disappeared from her mind. Instead, she reached out for his hand and brought it to her lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

She may sometimes think that she doesn’t deserve him, but at the end of the day, she considers herself the luckiest person in the world. Because after everything, he still chose her every single day. Chose to love her, on her good days and bad days and everything in between.

And that was all she could really ask for.

Niall huffed in frustration at his laptop.

He was sitting on the floor, back against the couch because he could no longer sit in the kitchen for lack of focus. He’d been trying to find the correct word for what he was attempting to convey in his article and was failing miserably. Working from home was difficult sometimes because of the lack of communication with his team. When they were all together in the office, if he was stuck on a word, he’d simply ask out loud, guaranteed to receive an answer in moments, and then he could just keep on writing. Sure, there were Zoom meetings and conference calls now, but it wasn’t really the same.

He tried to remain positive though. If anything, he was more grateful that he and Mona were healthy and didn’t have jobs that required them to be out and about, even more so, jobs which afforded them the luxury of working from home. The same couldn’t be said for others, whose services were needed to help care for others, and he sometimes caught himself trying to remember that before complaining about anything.

“Take a break,” came Mona’s voice from behind him. She had crawled on the couch to sit above him, hands on his shoulders as she pressed her lips to his cheek. “You’ve been at this for longer than usual and you keep making angry sounds under your breath.”

He huffed out a laugh, leaning easily into her as she started to rub circles into the back of his neck, trailing down to where his shoulders converged, fingers easily finding the muscles that were taut with tension and massaging them away. “I have a deadline,” he muttered out, but closed his laptop anyway, a satisfied sound bubbling out through his lips when she found a good spot. He didn’t realize how tense his shoulders were, how much he needed this, but as always, Mona noticed for him.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t take a tiny break,” she retorted, but her voice went to that soft and reverent place that he loved, slow and sweet like honey. Her fingers started to press long lines from a spot behind his ears all the way down the curve of his neck and back again, and he sighed contentedly, eyes fluttering shut. He wasn’t sure why, but it was his favorite spot, mostly because Mona’s hands were usually cold and his skin was always warm and it was soothing in a way he couldn’t really find words for. It was usually made even better because she sometimes pressed her lips along that line too, soft and fleeting kisses that usually left him waiting for more.

Her lips found the skin along his hairline instead, mostly because he was now leaning back into her lap, her arms wrapping around him to hold him close. “What are you doing?” he asked, nearly whining because she was kissing everywhere except for his lips.

She smiled against his skin and he felt his heart give a little start in his chest, warmth zipping through him because he never got tired of when she did that. “I’m loving you extra today.”

He couldn’t help the way he grinned at that, fingers tangling into hers to bring both of her hands to his lips and then holding them over his heart. He sometimes felt it was impossible to love her more but was always proven wrong when she did little things like this, repeating his own words back to him.

She was buried so deep into her head the other day that she wasn’t even answering his questions of concern as he tidied the room around her, where she was still curled into herself in their bed. He had begun to wonder if she could even hear him, a thought that nearly scared the life out of him because that had never happened before. He always noticed the way her eyes glazed over sometimes and she dragged her feet around the apartment, usually leaving her to her own devices for a bit because she was good at finding ways to pull herself out of it, learning that two days was a good grace period before he had to interfere with whatever war was going on inside her head.

But, the other day, time had seemed like it was passing by agonizingly slow, mostly because they were stuck in the apartment all the time, and he knew he had to do something quickly to bring her back to him, two day grace period forgotten after two hours. He wished she didn’t hurt so much sometimes, wished he could just reach in and take that part of her out, so she’d be happy and wasn’t plagued by darkness. But he loved her to the ends of the earth regardless.

“I made you your favorite soup,” she said now, cheek pressed to his head as she held him. “Might put you in a better mood?”

He couldn’t help the way he reached for her then, hands gently pulling her face down to his lips as he kissed her as sweetly as the angle allowed. It was awkwardly upside down but the way she smiled against him made it worth it. All these years later and she still didn’t really seem to understand that what made him feel the most gratified was when she was happy, when she smiled and laughed and glowed from it all, not overthinking, not caring about anything else. But he would pour his love into her until she did, until she realized that she really was the love of his life and nothing in the world could ever change that.

“Thank you,” he murmured against her lips, smile growing tenfold as she let out a breathy giggle. “I love you.” His heart still fluttered whenever she said those words back to him, and he knew that he would never get tired of saying it or hearing it back.

As he followed her to the kitchen and let her pour their lunch into bowls, all he could think of was how even if being cooped up inside all the time wasn’t ideal, it was worth it for how much time he got to spend with his Mona.

#it's been raining all day and i'm in a mood #moniall are my emotional support characters okay #idk who i am or what to do with myself if i'm not writing about them #in the background of my life #i've also decided not to number these bc i feel like they add pressure to tell the story chronologically #and this has no plot so LOL #things i love about you #writings #1dff #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan drabbles

46 notes · View notes