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jemmo · 1 year

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ok. here’s some of my immediate, rambly reactions to eps 3 and 4 of t8s.

first off, i was kinda nervous the entire day. it’s been a while since ive had butterflies like this waiting for a show to air, most recently was the second season of utsukushii kare, but the level it was today was rivalling waiting on a friday for a new bad buddy ep. and the fact this show managed to put me into that state within less than a week is frankly insane, and shows just how down bad i am for it. all that to say, i so soooooo didnt this want this to be a case of me overinflating how good those first 2 eps only for the follow up to not encapsulate the same feelings. all signs were pointing to that not being the case, but still, when you hyperfixate, you kinda get nervous hoping that thing lives up to everything youve built it up to be. and these eps absolutely did that. they didnt just live up to expectations, but are managing to give me scenes and story beats and emotions i just cant predict at this point, and i love that. just how like this budding relationship feels new and unpredictable to jihyun and jaewon, the show is like that for me to watch, and it does wonders for giving me the same butterflies the two are feeling.

but with that unpredictability comes a kind of uncertainty, not knowing whats gonna happen at any turn, and i cant express how much i adore that about these two eps. with the kind of story theyre building, with jaewon’s mental health struggles and his past, with jihyuns nerves and growth in an unfamiliar environment, itd be so easy to make their relationship a shared place of comfort and certainty and familiarity for each other. that place of refuge. and while i feel like that’s what it’ll eventually become, i love that still, in these early stages, the relationship feels so uncertain and almost not guaranteed. it makes you still hang onto every look and touch and word even though theyve already kissed. something about it doesnt feel pre-determined, which is a feeling i get with so many other bl’s when you know, a majority of the time, they’ll get together and have a happy ending. that doesnt feel guaranteed here (even though i pray for that to be the case). instead, it feels like im watching two individuals that are actually having to make a conscious effort in order for this relationship to become something. they have to work for that certainty. and that kind of knife’s edge, it could break at any moment, hanging on every interaction is packed with that specific kind of nervous exhilaration that is so fucking accurate and true to the start of relationship. i seriously cant describe how perfectly they managed to encapsulate that feeling and convey it with such authenticity. its actually ridiculous. seeing those moments, when they’re talking and skirting so closely around the topic of what exactly they are, when then their fingers brush and you are begging for one of them to make the tiniest of moves, to take hold, to make that kind of a statement no matter how small or silent it is, it makes your heart race, bc its new and unknown and in that moment its like your insides are screaming, begging you to embed this sensation into your veins bc you dont know when the next night like this, when the midnight chill and the dusky sky and the hints of alcohol in your system will mix right and make you feel so hedonistically giddy as you do right now at the feeling of that person by your side. and the way they both chase that sensation, how visibly happy it makes them, a craving for each other and that shared thrill only they know, it is just so unbelievably intoxicating to watch.

i am a person that struggles to sit down and focus. im watching tv but im also knitting, im playing a game but also listening to a podcast. im that person that has to overwhelm my senses to feel sated. this is the first time in a while that ive sat down to watch something and nothing stole my focus, i wasnt distracted, my mind didnt wander. i wasnt concious of the other people walking around my house or the traffic outside or the temperature of the room, i was just fully engrossed. i let every ebb and flow of the scenes and story take me on this path it was guiding me down. and again, thats how they feel. when jihyun and jaewon are alone together, everything else fades away to this dull buzz of background nothingness, they become engrossed in each other, and just as the story pulls me, they pull each other. there’s a constant back and forth, an exchange of setting and challenging boundaries that i adore. when youre getting into a scene, you dont know whos gonna be the one pushing the other. you have jihyun being more forward by the han river, teaching jaewon to draw, then you have jaewon going after jihyun at the library, you have him meeting jihyun after work only for jihyun to ask him to stay and have a drink. its like with every interaction, theyre both asking ‘is this ok?’ and the other asks ‘can we go further?’. i wanna make a whole other post about the nature of their gap in age and experience and all that brings and also how the expectations it brings are subverted, but for now i just wanna say how great it is that there is this balance, and especially that jihyun is allowed to be confident and brave and forward with jaewon, and jaewon is allowed to be reserved and giddy around jihyun. those are experiences so often reserved for the elder and the younger in a relationship, respectively, so to let jihyun be the leader and jaewon the follower, swept up by his feelings and attraction is so refreshing and plays so well into the kind of growth we’re gonna see from these characters and that they need, jihyun growing out of this shy country mouse persona to be more forward and bold, and jaewon being allowed to drop his mask of bravado and letting him be a young person that doesn’t have to be in control of everything. we see that one of his main pressures is the concept of the future, of how simultaneously wide and full of possibilities but also narrow and predetermined that future is for him. he talks about being afraid to lose the comfort of a microcosm like the army of school, even though they are places where he isnt necessarily happy. and then in comes jihyun, something not predetermined, something unexpected, and he takes control of jaewons future in a way by opening up this new path for him. he’s taking some of that stress from jaewon’s shoulders by being an equal and responsive partner in this journey, and offers the chance for jaewon to have something certain in his future, only if he too will work for it. only too if he tries something new, realises that its not too late, and that the anxiety and fear and uncertainty that comes with it may be worth it. bc it may not be guaranteed, but to try instead of never knowing is the only way he can make this possible.

tldr; this show is breath-taking, and im gonna be emo about it for a very long time

#thats it for me until i rewatch approximately 10 times and make 50 more rants #im down so bad #but im addicted to the way this show makes me think #its just stunning #and im so fucking happy i could cry #the eighth sense

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davidfarland · 1 month

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David Farland’s Writing Tips: “Mental Toughness”

As writers, we’re faced with lots of different types of stresses. It’s not always just searching for the right word in a description or trying to meet a story deadline.

While working on novels, I’ve had to deal with just about everything. For example, I was once deep in writing a great scene when my house caught on fire once. I had to totally neglect my work while I went to call the fire department and try to figure out where my five-year-old arsonist son was hiding (in his bedroom closet).

I’ve been working when I discovered that a business partner had stolen my life savings, when a Russian mobster called and tried to muscle in on a movie deal, and when a doctor phoned to tell me that my mother was terminally ill.

Most writers, when they get stressed, will freeze up. They’ll focus on their stress rather than their work because that’s what millions of years of evolution has demanded we do. When a bear charges, you have to respond.

Most of us cope with stress by looking for ways to lessen or remove the stress. For example, when the fire struck, I dealt with the problem and completely removed the stress. It took a couple of days, but we got past it. Very often, there are exercises that you can do to reduce your stress. For example, sometimes I find that putting on a little mood music or listening to the sounds of a forest can help get me in a writing mood. Just sitting in my writing chair is part of my routine. Pre-imagining a scene also helps. In fact, very often the proper response to stress is to work harder.

This is almost always true with economic stress. Do you have bills to pay? Covid got you worried? Then apply your butt to your chair and get to work. Ideally, as a writer, you’d be able to compartmentalize your problems and keep working under duress, just about any duress. If I’m working on a scene and my wife says, “There’s a leak in the roof!” I probably don’t need to jump up and fix it. It hardly ever rains where I live, so I’ll call our roofer and get it handled when I’m ready. But some stresses can’t be lessened or removed or acted on later. I never was able to save my mother. I imagine that it’s like being a boxer in a fight. Sometimes life throws something at you, and you just have to take a blow.

Perhaps I admire commandoes—those guys who jump out of airplanes, land in enemy territory with a specific mission. Their job is to get things done. As a writer, I find myself wondering what it would take to develop that kind of mental toughness. In fact, I was talking to Forrest Wolverton recently about an Army Ranger who trained other rangers. He taught them classes in mental toughness, in confronting problems before they appear.

I realized that writers often need that kind of training, too, and asked him to begin developing a class on mental toughness for writers. We need to prepare ourselves to write on the bad days as well as the good—to stay up and be exhausted when we need to hit a deadline, or to deal with a tragic loss and still balance our workload.

Part of that, I’m sure, is nurturing the right kind of attitude. It’s conditioning. As a young man, I used to work as a prison guard. After just a few weeks on the job, we had a situation where I was working in the kitchen, supervising the inmates on the chow line, when one inmate began stabbing another in front of perhaps a hundred witnesses. For a moment, I froze in surprise, wondering what to do. The killer in this case had a very big knife and he was stabbing his victim quickly, plunging it down over and over as fast as he could. While I stood wondering how to respond, the guard next to me leapt over a steam table that was perhaps four-feet high and six-feet wide, rushed across the room, and tackled the killer. Afterward, I wondered, “How can I become the one who runs into trouble instead of hesitates?” The answer was simple: you just make it a life choice. You remember who it is you want to be.

Since then, I’ve come across auto accidents and similar situations a couple of times, and my response has been to confront the problem, to run toward danger rather than from it. I think that as authors, we need to do the same. We need to decide now that when we’re faced with some major obstacle, we won’t whine about it, won’t apologize, won’t cower away from it. We’ll just calmly face it. I think we can calmly let the stress wash over us, pass through it, and accomplish our mission

For more on David Farland's Writing tips, visit https://mystorydoctor.com/writing-blog/

And you can also click here to get your David Farland Daily Meditations.

#writing tips and tricks #writing help #writing advice

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melobin · 2 months

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soo as i promised a little life update !! it’s a little long so i’ll put it under the read more 💖

this year hasn’t started off the best for me .. i started off the year having not slept for two weeks, i didn’t sleep for another two weeks after that, even now im struggling with my sleep but i think its slowly getting better !! around a month ago my nan passed away quite suddenly and it hit me quite hard, my other nan only passed away last march and i had another family member pass away in november so grief has been quite strong in my family for the past year. ive been trying to cope but i guess sometimes it can be a little harder?

i got quite sick three weeks ago and i still haven’t fully recovered, I’ve had quite a bad case of tonsillitis and that has just been absolutely vile. it’s still been bothering me these past few days but slowly I’ve been recovering !!

the most intense life event i’ve had lately is the fact i dropped out of uni on monday .. it’s been something i’ve been thinking about for over a year now and i finally done it. i guess mentally i just can’t cope anymore? it’s been incredibly stressful and difficult and i just couldn’t do it. i’m trying to not be hard on myself for it and i know that my reasoning for it is completely valid and i done what’s best for me so im trying my hardest !!! ive been resting more and ive had a lot of support. i guess whilst thinking everything through over the week i realised i done it at the right time before things got too overwhelming for me, i know how easily i can slip in and out of depressive episodes and im trying super super hard to slowly come out of it and hopefully it’ll be gone soon !!!

i love you all and i’m so thankful for you all of the support and patience i’ve had from you all recently 🥹 i promise to start being more active and start posting more fics again soon! 💞💓 remember melo always loves you 💓

#✧ melody posts

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french-teapot · 10 months

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Hey all!

I really wanted to sit down and write this out, just in case it might help anyone. Since so many people were so kind to help with suggestions when I was suffering with that UTI, I found a couple of other options that may be beneficial to some people.

It might be a little long, so I'll put it under a read more.

I'm still not 100% back to normal, but I've done repeated urine tests at the doctor, and there isn't even an infection anymore. It seems to just be a really stubborn inflammation, and it was recently getting to a point where I was really just mentally and emotionally wiped from it. It was never super bad, but obviously if you feel uncomfortable non-stop for weeks it really gets to you eventually, and last Saturday I was in tears again just from the frustration, especially since we're due to go away in a few weeks and I just want it to be gone. Nothing I got from the pharmacy did anything.

Now, my boyfriend's mother, while not a doctor or anything, is very good with researching natural remedies due to her own ongoing ailments and reluctance to rely too much on medications. A lot of what she knows is very 'old-wives-tale' style knowledge, but especially when it comes to more natural options, she knows a lot about the history of the plant and how old cultures would have used them.

Please keep in mind that everything I'm suggesting may not suit you. These have helped me immensely in the last couple of days, but they certainly haven't cured me. They may also be things you're allergic to, or if you take medications, may react with them. So please take everything I say with a pinch of salt, and common sense.

So these are what she suggested:

The three main things I've been taking are dandelion (flower and leaves), plantain herb (leaves) and nettle (I just bought this in tea bags).

I brew a tea mixture from them, and they've helped so much already. Apparently they're all diuretics, and help with urinary support and health. But they've given me a lot of relief considering they're all just plants you probably already have everywhere in your garden.

Both dandelion and nettle can be bought as regular tea bags, so that might be easier, especially since there's special preparation for nettles due to their sting.

This might be more common knowledge that I think, but it's certainly something I didn't know about, and I definitely didn't realise how potent they are. And since the majority of plant-related uti advice I think most people hear about it 'drink cranberry stuff', there's not as much emphasis on these.

ALSO. I just started this today as well, but this is something I did know about - eating raw garlic. I've just been chopping a few cloves on some buttered bread, and it's delicious. Garlic is also pretty brilliant for a lot of things, so even just in general I would recommend eating it like that. Or with some honey, whatever gets it down for you if you're able to eat it.

I'd really really recommend if anyone suffers from bladder issues at all, please do some research on this, because even in a matter of like, two days, it's really boosted my mood and general wellbeing.

Obviously I'm still going to the doctor. That's not ruled out, and I'd never tell anyone to rely only on plant remedies when medication could do more. But these have just helped a lot in the meantime.

Thanks to all of you who helped me before, I just wanted to add something back! c:

#uti #diuretic #dandelion #nettle #plantain herb #uti help

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nightscissor · 2 years

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Period Fetish!Hunter Drabble

okay i was So High when i wrote this and i have no clue if there’s even a single person out there who is also into this but it’s been banging around in my drafts for a minute so i just decided fuck it, i’ll post it! anyways lemme know if you like this even a little bit so i feel less alone:)

it got kinda long for a drabble though sorry lol

WARNINGS: So very much 18+ if you’re a minor please just leave us all alone, Looots of period talk, Period fetish, Like I’m not exaggerating full-on period kink!Hunter here, Mention of knife, Tons of descriptions of blood, Kinda graphic, Mention of pregnancy but no one gets pregnant and there is no real pregnancy scare (my fellow tokophobes are always safe here<3), Stuff about birth control (me making up my dream space bc that i wish existed), Pining, Jacking off, Male masturbation, Potential dub-con for a character beating his meat to someone without permission?, Mention of PIV sex, Mention of bloody period PIV sex, Maybe kinda voyeurism as well in a way? Like Hunter smells you while getting off??, I promise my writing is at least marginally better than the warnings

-•-

There are some things off the field that Hunter’s enhanced senses come in handy for. One of those is knowing when his teammates are hurt. Especially being in an enclosed space like The Marauder, Hunter can tell the moment someone’s knife slips by that metallic tinge in the air. His brothers’ blood has pretty close to the same scent, Tech says it’s because they all have the same blood type. Something about the Kaminoans planning ahead so the synth blood can be used for anyone in case of emergency.

But yours? Your blood is different, and even though he knows it’s strange and wrong, he sort of likes it? Not that he likes seeing you hurt, not at all. It’s just… he likes that he knows something so intimate about you. He likes that no one else can smell how your blood is different than others’. He likes being able to rush to your side the moment something happens to you and tend to your wound.

Yeah. Hunter has it bad for you. Over the past several months you’ve been with the batch, that’s exactly what he’s done each time you get hurt, even if it’s just a scratch. And this is exactly what he does now as he catches that sharpness in the air while he’s pulling his blacks on.

—•—

Finally. The perfect birth control system. You’ve gone through your options over the past several years. Some making you gain or lose too much weight, some ruining your mental health, some not trustworthy enough to work, and some just being overall annoying to remember. The most recent form of birth control you’d been on had completely made your period disappear, which seemed like a great idea at the time, until the pregnancy anxiety kicked in. But this one. This one is perfect. You’d gotten on it a few weeks ago after a month of research (thanks for the help, Tech!) and your period is supposed to return any day now. It should keep your bleeding light and painless while still giving you confirmation that your uterus is nice and empty, it has an incredibly low rate of failure, and it’s super low in hormones, so less of those weight changing or mood swinging side effects! Finally you’ve found the solution.

Now you can relax alone in the cockpit with your lovely new lack of anxiety. Until Hunter busts in. Wearing only his blacks. His face flushed. His hair tousled and falling in his face as he hasn’t put his signature bandanna back on yet. Stars does he look fucking good.

“What’s wrong?! What happened?” you’re snapped out of your trance.

You look around as if to figure out who he’s talking to since you’re doing great. “Nothing…??” You respond with a puzzled look.

“You’re bleeding.” Hunter seems frazzled, breathing a bit heavily.

With no recollection of any magical flying blades, you realize that you had probably just started your period. Shifting in your seat confirms the suspicion that the first drops of blood had found their way out. “Oh, it must be my period,” you say lightly “thanks for the heads up!”. With a giggle, you move to stand and head to the ‘fresher but Hunter’s expressions stops you.

Period. Of course Hunter knows what menstruation is, he knows lots of people bleed monthly but he’d never smelled one from you before. He sort of just assumed you were one of those who didn’t have one and never really thought much more about it.

Upon seeing the confusion written on Hunter’s face, you brief him on the birth control situation and go to clean yourself up.

—•—

Blood. Your blood. That scent he so shamefully likes drifts from you. But you aren’t hurt. Hunter has nothing to worry about, but he still finds himself drawn to you for the rest of the day. He knows something about you that no one else knows. He can smell something on you that no one else can smell. But you’re safe. That intimate scent is harmless this time, and Hunter feels… What does he feel? He can’t even tell. As he sits in the cockpit beside you, he can’t stop thinking about how something so special to you and secretly special to him is coming from the most private part of your body.

He’s longed for that part of you since he first met you, and this new correlation between his carnal pining for you and his dark, secret indulgence in the scent of your blood is driving him wild.

Hunter isn’t a clueless or sheltered man by any means; he’s aware that many people have increased sex drives during their cycles. He knows that’s what’s going on. He knows your arousal this time is just a side effect of your period. He knows all of that! So why can’t he stop breathing deeply through his nose, drinking in both the scents of your blood and your arousal as if they belong to him?

He knows it’s wrong. He knows he’s dirty for it. But when he’s lying in his bunk right above yours that night, surrounded by that strangely intimate, beautiful, metallic, musky, sweet scent of yours, he can’t help himself. He imagines your perfect pussy coating his cock in the blood only he knows about and the slick of your arousal for him. His hand seems to have a mind of its own as it makes its way under his waistband to wrap around his painfully hard erection. He’s so wrong for this, he thinks to himself. You can’t help it. It’s natural, that’s all it is! Nature! He tells himself, but he can’t stop. He pauses his ministrations only to coat his hand in a layer of spit before quickly returning it to his aching member. His eyes are clenched shut imagining that red shine he longs to see between your body and his as he picks up the pace.

What are you dreaming about? Hunter hopes it’s him as he always does when he can smell you getting wet at night. He can usually keep himself under control around you, at least enough to go get himself off in the ‘fresher. This is different, though, he likes it too much. It’s depraved and selfish and downright slutty of him and he knows it! But somehow that makes it better. The risk of you catching him, the thought of how fucking wrong this is of him. Jacking off to you— not just your image like normal— but your scent. There is barely a meter between the two of you but Hunter just can’t get himself to stop, fervently rubbing himself off as if he’s in some sort of heat.

And when he hears you? That finally does him in, he has to bite the back of his other hand hard just to shut himself up when you turn over in bed and let out the sweetest little sigh. Just close enough to a moan for Hunter’s rampant imagination to twist your subconscious noise into something darker. Hunter pumps himself through his release, slowly regaining consciousness when he notices just how much he came. He’s hot and sticky, ropes of his cum covering his fingers and lower abdomen and fuck he is a filthy man but fuck he’s never gotten off so hard.

All of that just over the smell of your blood and your pussy.

-•-

okay if this gets even an ounce of attention from even one singular person i might write up a part two

and if it gets no attention from anyone other than me rereading it i still might write up a part two because this is hot to me SORRY LOLZ

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #tbb hunter #hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter/reader #tbb hunter/you #hunter/you #bad batch hunter reader #tbb smut #tbb hunter smut #nsft #tbb hunter lemon #tbb hubter grapefruit

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mbrainspaz · 1 year

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I can't tell if I'm misunderstanding local culture or if my coworkers are just the rudest people on earth: A sort of tumblr AITA.

Any other south Texans out there, care to add your two cents?

I've lived in several cultures with wildly different gift giving practices so I'm pretty adaptable but since starting my current job in south Texas I'm at a loss for the first time. Having been a person who's struggled to afford food in recent years the best way I know to show gratitude and camaraderie is by gifting and sharing necessities like food, clothing, and shelter. I've always loved cooking for other people. Granted I do cook some weird stuff like curry and gluten free snacks so I don't expect people to want everything I make. I have a pretty stellar track record though. At my old office my deserts were legendary. Still, I'm not offended when someone turns down gifts of any kind. I wouldn't want anyone to feel obligated to give me anything in return.

Well... I wouldn't have been offended a few rejected gifts, but these people have accepted literally NOTHING I've tried to give them all year—usually just by tossing it aside on a dusty shelf or leaving it sitting out so that I find it later, spoiled. The muffins I made? Left on the counter for 3 days until I finally threw them out. The pumpkin pie with cool whip on thanksgiving? Left sitting on a workbench overnight. The nice warm waterproof coat I made available for the kid who only has a hoodie? Shoved in a dusty sink full of spiders. The spare room in my company house: always open, but they've told me they slept in their cars instead. I've even offered them full access to my kitchen (on the worksite) in case they ever need a snack or a sandwich and NOT ONCE—not even during severe storms—have they ever asked for so much as a breath mint.

I can't wrap my head around it! If someone had offered me any of these things while I was struggling or even just as a kind gesture I would've done everything in my power to show them how grateful I was even if I didn't want whatever they were sharing. The one coworker has literally come up to me at work and talked about how they couldn't afford anything but canned beans for a week—BESTIE, you could've helped yourself to a whole steak I had in the fridge! Or a vegan burger! Have I not told you so a dozen times?! I know what you're thinking: "They clearly hate you!" Not particularly. At least, I try not to let the paranoia get to me. We get along well enough on most other fronts. But wait—there's more!

They also rudely reject all gifts from our boss and clients. A client gave us special cooling scarves in the heat of the summer and I made sure to thank her and be seen wearing mine (it was super nice), and what did my coworkers do with theirs? They're still in the box in the back of a dusty bin. A coffee maker? Also left in its box for 9 months. A mug of hot chocolate? Left to mold. Leftovers of fried chicken and pizza from work meetings goes bad in the break room fridge every time (if I don't eat it). The candy and snacks our boss brings 'round on holidays ends up sitting in the feed room unopened for months (until I finally take it). Sometimes clients bring leftover desserts or donuts, and if I don't take those and put them away they will also sit out until they calcify.

It's no wonder I'm the only one who gets gifts from clients most of the time—I know how to at least ACT grateful. Even if you don't want the thing it's about basic manners.

My two coworkers come from different cultural backgrounds in the sense that one has a rich family and the other has always lived in poverty. Both still own land, horses, and big trucks (because Texas). Both are from south Texas and haven't spent a lot of time in other cultures. My best guess is that this is some kind of sick hyper-individualist mentality bullshit in action. I just don't get it.

No matter what culture you're from I'm pretty sure it's always downright rude to reject gifts the way they do. I'm to the point where I've decided to stop trying to give them anything and I just hope that doesn't make me the bad guy. I'm tired of being insulted for no reason and I hate to see food go to waste. Really at a loss here.

#aita #ungrateful #coworkers #life of a texan peasant #poverty #gift giving #american culture #texan culture #ramble #long text post

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juni-ravenhall · 5 months

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a story or small book or a poem about stuff i thought about

i didnt have any responsible adults in my entire life. i dont have any still now, when im a disabled adult living in poverty. i think a lot about how nice it would be to find some lonely old middle class people who take a liking to me and adopt me as their kid or grandkid since theirs doesnt talk to them much. how much it would help me to have support from anyone.

i was the most bullied kid in my entire elementary school. i never thought of it that way until recently when i randomly said it out loud during a convo on some related topic. after elementary school i was still bullied and isolated and judged, but not always the no.1 victim. i have a lot of damage from how bullied and alone ive always been, including how isolated i am now. i had friends sometimes, but i lost them.

i live in poverty and cant afford a dishwasher or a good bed. my back hurts a lot on top of my other illnesses. i have to wash a lot of dishes and cook a lot of food alone. the bed is uncomfortable. it hurts my back. when my back hurts, it makes it harder to focus, or rest. it makes everything harder than it already is. i cant really think at all on the days when the pain is worst. i stretch. i try. but im also stuck without money inside a small apartment in a bad neighbourhood, and its hard to feel the motivation to do anything.

the wellfare system and the healthcare system doesn't care to help me get healthy. i'm supposed to simply "find a job", even though my resumé is empty with an unexplainable gap of a decade. i dropped out of uni maybe 3 or 5 times. i dont have a degree. i barely made it through highschool. i didnt know that it was mental illness and symptoms of the abuse. i didnt understand that until i was over 20. i still didnt understand that when i tried to do uni, over and over. i kept trying because i am a hopeful person. i tried to learn alone and create alone, too, because i had hope. but hope doesn't get you anywhere if you don't have any support. i know that now.

i think about that im smarter and more knowledgeable and more effective than most people ive ever met who earn 30k sek a month. like the people who yell at me from the wellfare office for asking questions. or the doctors who conclude that i require no treatment despite my obvious disability. or the people making videogames who dont understand anything about game design. i do understand it and i could teach them so much in one hour, if they talked to me. i could make someone a master artist if i taught them for a few weeks. i am fluent in english on top of my native language and understand linguistics and etymology really well. i can read and write in 4 different alphabets at least. one time i composed an original piece of music for my sibling's school project in the span of a few hours of a night, and they told me everyone in their group was amazed that i made something unique for them, from scratch, that quickly.

i don't think that i'm less capable or less skilled or less intelligent or less rational or less efficient, than middle class people. i don't have any proof that this would be the case. the thing i do have proof of is that i have a lot of struggles that come from being a childhood and adulthood abuse victim and bully victim with no support network, with no help, with no money to ask for help. maybe i wouldn't be this damaged today if i had had 15k sek a month for a few years.

i wouldnt even know how to spend 30k sek a month. well, that's not true. i would save it for the future, to stay safe, while also donating to people in my communities, like my tumblr dashboard. that person that often struggles with rent and meds. that person that does emergency commissions. that person with a sick cat. those people, i would give 1000kr each of my 30.000kr salary. if i gave 1000kr to three different poor people every month, i would still have 27.000kr. if my rent and bills were around 10000kr (in a nicer place than now), and i eat food and use hygiene products for around 3000kr, and i buy meds and clothes and bus tickets and small things for around 2000kr, i would still have 12.000kr left. thats pretty much just completely insane. if i saved 12k sek every month, i would have saved more than 100.000kr in one year from my salary, and still given away 1000kr every month to three poor people, and still been able to live happily with food, medicine, bus tickets and cinema visits, and warm clothes in my size.

i could save 12k sek a month, or i could use 2000kr more, to give 1000kr more to two more poor people. for a total of 5 different struggling humans who i could give 1000kr each month. and still save 10.000kr for my future safety. every month. more than 100.000kr savings a year.

the people who earn 30k sek a month in sweden are earning relatively small salaries. there are many who earn 35k, or even 40k, or even more than that. they don't usually give 1000kr a month to 5 different poor people. they also don't usually get therapy, which they can afford, although some do. if i had 10.000kr left just for savings every month, i would get horse therapy, every week. but i might not even have to use the 10k for that. i might be able to cover that partially with the 2000kr i calculated for other spendings. i would be really happy if i could get horse therapy every week.

if you are middle class, you don't live in the same world we do, i don't think. i don't really understand how it works anymore. if you could give 1000kr to 3 or 5 starving people every month, and still save 10.000kr every month, and still live freely and happily and healthily yourself every month. why would you not do that? i think that's why they say "poor people stay poor because we give money away". when we have it, we share it, because we understand how valuable even the smallest sums are. but it's still hard for me to understand how people earning 30k+ sek every month are the majority of this country and how the majority of people are not doing anything similar with their money as what i would do.

my skills, logic or knowledge don't earn me anything. because if you don't have a network, if you don't have support, if you don't have anything, you can't get anything, either.

my only way out is to keep having hope even though i've learnt that hope doesn't actually help me at all, beyond keeping me from killing myself, sometimes. mostly it's the fact that yasmin would be alone that keeps me from it though. because she also has no support, she also doesn't have anything. at least we are together, in the cold without proper winter clothes. at least we are together, when the drug addicts are banging on our window at 4am. at least we are together, wondering how to ever find any means of employment, in a system that's built against us. how to find support in a society where middle class people will tell you that you aren't trying hard enough, while they don't know even how much 100kr is.

112kr is bus tickets back and forth to downtown for two people. that means we can go windowshopping together, or to the library, but we can't buy anything. 200kr means we can go downtown *and* buy a small trinket or a snack. 500kr, means we can go downtown and buy a piece of second hand clothing, or go to the cinema together, or eat a restaurant meal together, one of those things.

1000kr to a poor person every month can help them buy their meds. pay their rent. or to go to the cinema to cheer up, because sitting in a cold small apartment in a bad neighbourhood can make you feel really bad. it doesn't make it easier to work, or easier to study, or easier to get healthier and move up in society. it's really hard to make a "class journey upwards". middle class people seem to not realise that they've been fed propaganda about poor people. i can understand that the upper classes don't know and don't care, because they are horrible unempathetic people all throughout. if you have that much money and don't help the ones less fortunate, or fight the system for us and with us, there is no redemption.

but middle class people, for some reason, it feels as if you should know. as if you should understand how much 100kr is, or how much 1000kr is, or how much 10.000kr is. because you are only one car accident or one severe health problem away from starting to trickle down in class. well, that wouldn't be enough if you have a support network, or if you have a lot of savings, or if you have a loaded family. but over time, with long-term disability, you might lose your middle class. or maybe your sibling does, or your best friend.

it feels as if it shouldn't be that far away from you, that you can't imagine, that you can't understand that some of us right here around you, in your communities, would have our lives changed by having even half of your money every month. the fact that you don't even have to donate a few 100s "instead of" saving it, or "instead of" spending it on games, or on netflix, or on restaurants. you can spend 1000kr on 5 different poor people each month and still have 10.000kr left over just for savings, or for as many gacha tickets as you want, or for trips to spain, if you prefer.

middle class and upper class people's ability to be patrons to those stuck in lower classes without losing any of their own priviledges is just very interesting. i've seen middle class people tell lower class people that their commissions are too expensive. but if you earn 30k sek a month, paying 1000kr for one single commission is actually more or less nothing to you, on average. the same goes for buying products not made in sweatshops. if you have 10.000sek left to save every month, i think you can afford to not support fast fashion, or fast food. poor people are being exploited, ruined and killed to create those products. not for any fault of their own, but because they were born unfortunate. and poor people on your dashboard are unable to pick up their medicines or pay their rents or buy food and warm clothes, not for any fault of their own, but because they were born unfortunate.

we were born without support networks, without responsible and healthy adults around us. we were bullied and isolated in school. we didn't have the opportunity to make "class journeys upward", because we didn't get healthcare or wellfare or other support to help us get through school, or to help pay for it. we didn't have any energy or ability to "network" and lick boots and kiss ass to get special treatment from richer people, even if we wanted to. the bullying and the abuse gave us PTSD, social phobias. reclusiveness. somehow they really don't understand how hard it is to create a network out of nothing, if you have damage from abuse and bullying. how it's not actually your fault that you don't have support. how it's not your fault you didn't just "get better", when the systems are built against you.

i've been a "free psychologist" to many people online for many years. people tell me "nobody understood me that well before", or "wow, that really changed my life". but i'm actually very tired of being a good therapist for no rewards other than seeing people feel better. no payment. and every time i play a videogame, i imagine i could have a sit-down with the developers and outline to them every single thing they could do to improve the game and sell more copies and have happier players. it comes very easy to me. but there is no way to just become a paid psychologist or a videogame fixer out of an empty resumé. i am not able to try to get a uni degree again, because then i would have no money at all for food and rent. so i am here with my empty resumé, without any support, without warm winter clothes in my size. without 1000kr to give to 3 or 5 poor people every month, and 10.000 for savings, for a safe future.

i really don't know what to do anymore, and i don't know how i will ever be able to take a middle class person seriously ever again, either. not if they earn more than 25k sek a month. below that, maybe they still know what 100kr is worth. i'm not sure. but the majority of sweden's working population earns a lot more than that, and has a university degree, because they weren't fucked up so bad that they couldn't finish school. nowadays, i side-eye everyone i see outside, and wonder if they know how much 100kr is worth. i don't think the drug dealers and users in this neighbourhood know how much 100kr is worth. i wish i could have gone into drug dealing, or into drug using. even just drinking. that's what everyone else does in this social class, for a reason. i just had hope that things could be different some day. that if i was responsible and kept trying, things could get better. it doesn't. i don't know if it matters if i spent my wellfare allowance on food or on drugs, or videogames. i don't know if my life will ever get any better regardless. but i spend it on food and medicine and hygiene products, because i have always been responsible, even though it has gotten me nowhere.

another job i could do would be to give middle class and rich people advice on how to spend their money. i would help them both save and invest properly with my knowledge and logic, as well as spending on a healthy mature life for themselves, and investing in their own happiness as well as their family and community's happiness. i could do all of that. it comes easy to me. i think i could be a counsellor. i could be a game designer. i could teach people how to be great artists. i could teach people how to improve themselves. or i could make music and some people would enjoy it enough to pay me for it. there are really many jobs that would come easy to me. everywhere around me that i look, i see people who don't understand as much about the world as i do. who don't know how to improve or how to move forward, when i can see it easily. i don't think that i'm lesser than people who earn 30.000kr a month. i heard that they take coffee breaks and smoking breaks. i heard that they go get sushi for lunch. i heard that you actually even get extra money for healthcare and other things through benefits of your work. i don't know why they don't know how much 100kr is worth.

the doctors told me that there is nothing they can do to help me, but if i pretend that i have autism, i might be able to get more help. because there are systems in place in sweden for people who have autism, and there might be ways for me to get more support and more different kinds of help that way. but i am a responsible person, and i felt that it would be wrong to pretend to have autism if i don't. the help that they said might be possible is also just a "might" or a "maybe". i think i would pretend to have autism if they told me that i would get 30.000kr a month by getting a job through a special programme for autistic people. but i don't know if anything like that would ever happen, so i don't feel comfortable taking a gamble on it. i also feel really angry that the system is like this, and that well-meaning psychologists at the city hospital feel pressured to tell me that the only way they can help me is if i say i have autism.

the only idea i really have for how to not die is to eventually be able to finish making a serious videogame, all alone or with the help of yasmin, or my sibling, or someone i havent met yet. there are people like me, who are creative and analytical, who made very successful videogames alone or almost alone. and i think im a very good game designer, because it comes easy to me. i always know how to fix other people's games, even though nobody asks me to. i know what's wrong: it's usually the same few things. they lack clear direction, in gameplay, art, story, or in everything. they lack a clear sense of their target audience and their desires. they lack understanding of the fundamentals of good game design and what makes games fun and enjoyable and satisfying to play. they lack focus on making the core of the game strong and solid and focus too much on unnecessary things outside of the core gameplay and other pillars of the game. they lack skills in design, or skills in art, or skills in writing. which again comes back to lacking focus, because almost everything is about focus. it's about understanding what the most core things are, what is the most important, both to you and to your audience. it's about pushing design into interesting unique places, or about pushing boundaries for realism, or about limiting your scope to your resources and goals.

when i said i could make someone a master artist by teaching them for a few weeks, it's more or less the same thing. i would teach them that they need to find a core and find focus. they need to push the limits of their art and their ideas, and maybe the limits of the world and society. to focus on shapes and colours and feelings and pushing extremes, while also learning fundamentals of anatomies and perspectives and layouts just to back up the important parts. or if they just want to make ugly vectors for a boring company for 30.000sek each month, i would teach them to focus only on improving those skills necessary for that and to have a full understanding of what their niche means and what the market is like for them. i would also teach them that they can still push their personal limits and make interesting work even if they have a job making ugly art for a boring company, if they wanted to. i would teach them how to market and advertise their art. most of everything is just about focus and about cores and about disregarding useless things. those kinds of things come easy to me. i think it doesn't come easy to most people i see that earn 30.000kr a month. i could even be their therapist to help them stop feeling inferior about their art or stop having impostor syndrome. i understand how the world works and i'm able to teach others about it, if they want to listen.

the biggest evil in the world is expansion, the concept of expansion. our planet and our societies are going to be destroyed because of expansion, and we are hurting today, especially those of us in lower classes, because of expansion. the opposite of expansion is to make smaller and make less. the balanced version is to sustain. if the rich people stopped expanding, the planet and its poor people would do so much better. if we started sustaining instead of expanding, we would be good on our way, and if we started lessening, we could reverse most problems we have.

expanding comes in many forms, everywhere, all the time. when you want to have more money even though you already have enough to live a healthy, safe and happy life, that's expansion. when a company wants to make more money this month than last month, even though its owners have enough money to live a happy life, that's expansion (unless their only purpose in making more money is to help society in some way). when a government wants more land, that's expansion. i could really go on, but almost every evil in the world is expansion at its core. it's about someone wanting to get richer, someone wanting more priviledges, and that someone is someone who doesn't need it, someone who already has it. a company who already has it. a billionaire who already has it. a government who already has it.

i understand a lot about fixing the world. i understand that solving homelessness is possible and would logically be a good investment for societies. i understand that keeping people poor and exploiting them is a way for powerful people to stay powerful. i understand that nobody who has power or money actually wants to help fix the world, because it wouldn't benefit them personally. i understand that those of us who do want to fix the world never get the resources to do so, and won't receive funding from the people who don't want it fixed. i also understand that if i became a politician, i would get death threats. my life would be even harder than it is now. i don't have the option to gamble with my safety like that, when i can't even afford warm winter clothes in my size. it's also not the very easiest job for me. the very easiest would be game designer. the second easiest would be counsellor. politician comes a bit later. i think it would be nice to perform a job that's easy for me and earn 30.000kr every month.

i have a hard time focusing on creating things these days, or focusing on learning things that would help me, like programming. i know a bit of programming, and i know the logic of it very well. i could map out the way the code should work on paper. but learning all the phrases and exact ways of putting it together takes a lot of effort from me, and with my disability it's difficult to do that. i used to draw a lot, and i studied animation very deeply for some years. i read everything about the history of animation that i came across, and about all the fundamentals, the ideas, the ways to make good animation. different mindsets, some that i agree with and some that i don't. i don't think that good animation has to be smooth, or anatomically correct, or correct in perspective. i think anything can be great if it's done with a lot of feeling and honesty and genuinity. you have to have focus. you have to know what your core is, and what the core of your animation is, what the core of each movement, each action, and each scene is. the core of each character. the core of the story, and the colour palettes. the feelings and the motifs. i don't agree that it matters if its two frames or thirty frames. the part that's going to blow people away is the feeling and the extremes. the wild bold colours, or the extremely minimal colours. the massive movements, or the nuanced tiny ones. the ones that tell a story, or the ones that give you a feeling and a sensation without a story. the ones that are anatomically correct and twenty-four frames per second are never going to matter to anyone if they don't feel like anything. that's what i think.

most things are about focus and cores and about not wasting resources on the wrong things. it's about not expanding in the wrong direction. things that come easy to me. if i had the energy, if my back didn't hurt so much, if i could buy sushi for lunch, i would make the best horse videogame in the entire history of the world. i would get more than 30.000kr per month for it, and i would give 1000kr each to 3 or 5 poor people every month to help them with their rent, or their meds, or their sick cat. i would be the responsible adult in my life who has got my back, who can support me, who can help me, and i would be that adult for others. i would pay to go to horse therapy every week, and i would still be able to save 100.000kr every year, and i would be safe, and i would be happy.

#personal #nonhorsgaem

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avaetin · 8 months

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What would you say is the most challenging part about writing a multi-chapter fic? I'm asking because I want to start but I'm worried I might stop along the way. Thanks in advance!

Hmm... it depends, really. Since your concern is specifically stopping at some point, I'll give an answer based on that.

1) Lost interest. Could be just that. Some ideas start as interesting in our heads. We get that overwhelming urge to write it, and then... *poof*. More often than not, in the case of a multi-chapter, in order for said idea to come to life - aka, be written - you have to build up to it. It takes time and effort, and tendency is you just lose interest.

2) Lack of feedback. In continuation to #1, you lose interest too because you lack feedback. Is my work good? Is my work bad? You spend so much effort on your work and sometimes, especially if you're new, you might have the mentality that you're spending so much effort but no one or so few notice your work. That's why if you look around, you'll see many posts about people encouraging others to leave reviews on their favourite works because authors determine readers' interest in their work through that.

3) Burnt out/Writer's block. I was burnt out just recently. Took a break from writing because ideas were just nonexistent at that time. Sometimes, a burnt out could last weeks. Writer's block could last for days, weeks, months, heck years even.

4) Lack of preparation. In the case of fantasy/historical/sci-fi/etc. settings, research is your best friend. "What if I don't need to do research?" That's a lie. Lol, kidding. Even if you don't need to do intensive research for your work, you still need to have an outline of your story. How you want it to begin and end, what details you want to include, the plot, etc. Without that, your story might fail.

P.S. Also, combining points 4 and 1, I suggest you have a schedule for when you want to update. Once a week, a few times a week, twice a month, once a month... I find that having no schedule makes me procrastinate. So yeah, I suggest having a schedule.

#just random stuff #it's past midnight here so my brain is slowly shutting down #i might add more but here's my answer so far #hope that helps anon!

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thessalian · 9 months

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Thess vs Backlogs and IT Issues

Well, if this is the setting for the next two weeks, I'm in deep shit.

Scruffman, our office manager, is on leave for the next two weeks. I had a feeling that things were going to get a little ... problematic. Goblin has a "when the cat's away, the mice will play" mentality and has a habit of chatting in her usual "I Hate Everything" way whenever she gets the change - read: "when Scruffman isn't at his desk". This monopolises the time and attention of everyone in the office, so less work gets done. That's not even counting the whole thing where Temp will dodge all the longer work - with Violet on long-term medical leave, that still leaves me to do the lion's share of it, because Milady tends to take over Scruffman's duties when she's away and so she's busier than usual for the next two weeks (when not sucked into Goblin's Grumble Vortex)

In addition to this, we had some changes to our transcription software recently and it has not been particularly well implemented. Having to tag our typing with our initials is bad enough, but the window on which we have to do so is slow to come up at the best of times, so that's a fair chunk of time wasted. Again, that's under the best of circumstances right now.

Logged in today and the queue was at 375 and climbing. We were backlogged as far back as Saturday (because of course the various doctors and techs are still coming in on the weekends), and all the ones left from Saturday were - you guessed it - the long and complicated bullshit that Temp doesn't want to touch. But yesterday's typing was effectively untouched when I logged in.

The queue when I logged out for the day was approaching 400. Barely anything got typed unless I typed it (except for seeing Milady take one fifteen minute long monstrosity, for which I am very grateful because I got something like three 10+ minute bits of dictation on top of the ones that don't take long to speak but do take long to type because of having to deal with the formatting - it's a thing). Most of the urgent cases got done - but not all; the longer ones of those were left behind as well when I logged out. I just hadn't noticed because I was busy with all the long dictation and the stuff from the more difficult doctors and techs. I barely saw anything taken out of the queue, and when I did, it was in bits and snatches of shorter pieces of work between the longer, complicated stuff. And like I said - not that much of that got done either.

Of course, some of this might have something to do with the transcription software, which was at its worst today. It crashed seven times, and hung for at least five minutes a dozen more times over the course of the day, at least for me. It's possible that people got slowed down because they were having the same problem, but I don't know because no one keeps me updated when Scruffman's not around. I'd bet good money that they didn't try to talk to IT about it and just used it as an excuse to relax and futz about all day, but at least it's sort of an excuse. Ish. Kind of. I mean, I was slowed up, but I wasn't slowed up that much...

If we're still in this mess when I log in tomorrow (and I honestly expect it to be much worse tomorrow), I may actually have to pull some overtime. I have spoken to Scruffman about doing so if it becomes necessary, because at least I don't have to commute, but I'm honestly not sure I have the spoons for that kind of thing. Thing is, we need to at least get partway caught up. This reflects badly on all of us, but the others don't seem to fucking care. Scruffman's away, so they can do what they want, apparently. And it's leaving us massively behind.

So tomorrow is going to be a day. If our transcription software is still a mess of hiccups and crashes, I'll be emailing IT and asking what the hell is going on. If the queue is still obscenely long (and I would wager, knowing the doctors' work patterns as I do, that it'll be approaching 500 cases when I log in, if my colleagues in the office keep on the way they're going), I'm going to have to log some overtime to at least get us so that we're only one day behind and not two. I'll obviously keep a record and email Scruffman about it, but I can't just let this stay like this. And I can't make Goblin and Temp get a fucking move on - hell, I couldn't do that even if I was in the office.

Fuck. Just ... fuck. Two whole weeks of this bullshit? Are you kidding me?!? Scruffman is obviously entitled to use his annual leave, but we're already massively understaffed because no one hired a replacement for Sunshine and Sid, so if Goblin and Temp refused to pull their respective fingers out, we're going to end up so deep in backlog that we'll end up with calls from clients asking what the fuck is going on. Most of this stuff is fairly urgent. It's histology. It's people being investigated for potential cancer in a lot of cases! I don't necessarily expect miracles, but I expect at least the kind of work ethic that doesn't involve turning the office into a chat-and-coffee corner the minute the managers' backs are turned. If I have to keep the whole place afloat for two weeks, I WANT A FUCKING RAISE. Or at the very least overtime pay.

Thankfully my own week's holiday comes pretty much as soon as Scruffman comes back from his fortnight. I'm going to need it. Especially if I have to pull overtime.

*flashes back to typing queue when I logged out before*

...When. Especially when I have to pull overtime. UGH.

#Thess has a day job

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magnoliamyrrh · 11 months

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Don't you have a psychotic father? Didn't you fear that acid might trigger psychosis in you too?

He did. Its unclear what has caused my fathers psychosis however. His mother holds that when he was young he overdosed on some medication and had a long series of epileptic-like seizures, and that this may be the source; doesnt seem too far fetched bc there have been cases of this happening, and of epileptic seizures causing religious-focused psychosis, and feelings of "heaven" and "hell." Noone else in that line of my family, or on any side of my familty, has had any kind of psychosis-inducing mental illness however, noone recently at least or noone that anyone knows of

I used to worry about it at the beggining, yes, every once in awhile I still do. I mean, before i even did psychadelics weed could have technically caused psychosis - ive met ppl in psych wards who had weed-induced psychosis who had no family history of it even; one girl who it hit after the first time she smoked, and didnt even smoke much. However, no matter how much and how frequently ive smoked, ive never come close to feeling like it was causing that - the most ive had is weed-induced paranoia and other shit, but nothing once I came down. To smoke weed was a risk in the first place, which i took, and so far its been years and nothing has hit me

When i first tried psychadelics, and acid was the first one, I knew it was a risk, one i took because I know I could handle high doses of weed without losing it, and because I was...... well. I was fucked up. anorexia bulimia suicidality a bunch of other shit, i wasnt far away from a second suicide attempt at all, and I couldnt rly see many ways out of the shitshow i was in - i figured if I didnt kill myself the anorexia or bulimia would kill me anyway...... and so, i decided to take the risk, that everything good ive heard might be worth it. And im very glad I did, bc theres a high chance id be...... either dead or much worse off today

By now ive tripped idk well over 50/60 times and have yet to feel like my brain has been pushed twoards psychosis. The most I can say is that, and this applies only to acid which I dont rly do anymore, when I did later on take probably too high doses and had rly bad trips,,,,, yea, in the middle of the bad trip i was afraid of that possibility (or more accurately afraid the trip would never end) - frankly, I think the fact that I had the strength to keep myself together and pull myself out of it got me through it; i dont know if someone else going through that experience without prior experience and the ability to try to keep it together would have had a psychotic break, idk, maybe so maybe not - maybe it wouldnt have been chemical but it would have been so traumatic that theyd have been lost in the sauce. Or maybe not........ the most i can say is that I learned my lesson w strong doses of acid, and that it did happen that I felt its effects for days or weeks after the trip - not psychosis or delusions - hard to explain, but its like the trip lingers; in good cases this is called psychadelic "afterglow," after bad or exhausting trips its not particularly pleasant

Sooo, idk. Yea, i guess it could happen, fuck it, it could happen with weed too. Its a risk I take. I don't smoke as commonly as I used to anyway, and I dont do psychadelics as often (tho frankly the times when I would do shrooms around once or twice a month were the most productive, stable, sane, happy periods of my life). I hope to God it wont, but it could, even being careful and respectful with it

....... overall though? psychadelics, and especially shrooms, have made me feel exponentially, exponentially more "sane" than I ever was before I took them..... and even particularly crazy trips managed to teach me, my brains a lot more put together and stronger than I thought it was

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anvoo · 1 year

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Pain. Cost of change and progress. Cost of inaction.

I recently read an article on LinkedIn, and for certain reasons, it really spoke to me at that moment.

Guess it shouldn't come as a surprise, since most of the points hit really close to home. I was hurting.

No progress without pain. I read something similar to this sometime early in December, and I think a part of me internalized it. I wanted to find a reason, a meaning as to why I was hurting back then. The breakup, the sudden loss of my only source of validation, reassurance, and positive feelings in the form of my partner, the realization of my own character and person; all of that hurt me immensely. I needed a "why" to bear it, I wanted an answer to soothe me in that moment. It was, progress. It was a change, a marking point for me. I did learn and grow from it, albeit the change and decision itself didn't come from me, but I accepted it nonetheless. No regrets, and honestly thankful.

But as the pain subsides, so did my motivation and willingness to change and progress. I sought meaning in the suffering and got complacent as it goes away.

Now, a while after that, I find myself not too far off from my original position, having drifted down the current just a little bit. And this is where it hits me. I remember all the things I said and wanted for myself. I remember being in love with my potential, daydreaming about the days-not-too-far-off. But that's where it ends. I'm still stuck in that cycle of frustration, failure, defeat, self-pity, and emotional regulation,... By doing nothing, I am setting myself up for future frustrations and regret; I'm not honoring my own potential; I'm betraying the belief I have in myself, and the belief my loved ones have in me.

I want to change. I want to prove that I want to change. I want to be the best I can be.

I have a bad habit of taking in too much information, up to the point of me not really being sure what's what. Read, read, read... Consume, consume, consume,...

"Be kind to yourself"; "Take as much time as you need"; "Mental health comes first";...

I'm not saying these are bad advices, but I tend to twist words around, rationalize and find loopholes in order to procrastinate, avoid pain, and stay in my comfort zone. Honestly, what would be good for me right now is probably some good ol' fashioned Asian-Tiger-Parenting XD

But jokes aside, I don't want to stay in one place anymore.

Too many people fall in love with potential but fail to honor the process.

I fell madly in love with my potential. Infatuated, obsessed, love-struck,... all of that. But that's not enough for me. I want it to be a reality. Here's to no more daydreaming, and baseless hopes.

I don't enjoy pain. I never did. Ever since I was a kid, I was always afraid of it. I would much rather wait till my tooth fall off by itself, instead of actually pulling it off. I would keep a band-aid on for weeks, I would avoid all things that could cause me pain or discomfort. Some make sense, but some robbed me of potentially fun and rewarding experiences, like going up a mountain, or meeting interesting people, or becoming incredibly jacked.

It's understandable, and human nature almost, to avoid pain and dislike being uncomfortable, but nowadays, or at least in my case, through pains and through discomforts is how I'll be able to move forward, and progress. It's like resistance training, and that includes also actual resistance training xD

I welcome pain. I want it. I expect it. It hurts, and it's uncomfortable, but it's a sign that I am trying to do better, and that brings more pleasure and happiness than anything I could possibly imagine.

A final note for myself:

Trust the process.

While you may feel like you are not moving as fast as you would like, you must understand that what is being forged in you will empower you to leave a legacy that speaks beyond your lifetime. Stop worrying about how fast your life is moving and instead focus on how fruitful your life is becoming. Progress is not about speed but significance.

#diary #journal #writing #motivation #pain #hurt #self love #self help #potential #progress #change #resistance training

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davidfarland · 10 months

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David Farland’s Writing Tips: “Mental Toughness”

As writers, we’re faced with lots of different types of stresses. It’s not always just searching for the right word in a description or trying to meet a story deadline.

For more on David Farland's Writing tips, visit https://mystorydoctor.com/writing-blog/

And you can also click here to get your David Farland Daily Meditations.

#writing help #writing tips #writing advice

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thattheatretrash · 2 years

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hi so once again i am turning to tumblr bc idk what else to do

need some chronic pain related advice so if you can relate or know someone who does please read below

little background about me: i've had chronic pain for almost two years now, and still no solid diagnosis. different things have been thrown out there, but a lot of the tests i've had done have come back negative, not significant, or inconclusive. the only thing that was ever yes yes definitely positive was a mri of my thighs that showed inflammation. however, a couple months later when i had a muscle biopsy of my thighs done, they ruled it not significant, and it didn't point to a further diagnosis. my rheumatologist decided to put me on prednisone anyway, and it HELPED SO MUCH. at least temporarily, i'm tapering it now since it's not good to be on long term. but it helped with my energy levels and my pain/numbness/weakness/tingling/burning/tingling pain in my lower body. i definitely couldn't have finished college without it.

recently, i was put on lots of different meds, and i've been have a bad flareup and new weird symptoms since the beginning of the summer. i also started using weed to help manage pain and fatigue and it helped a lot. however, because i've had so many new (and some very severe) symptoms and couldn't tell anymore what was a side effect and was a symptom, i decided to stop/taper every medication/drug that i could about a week ago (with my PCP's help). i'm still adjusting.

however, the thing i'm probably most concerned about rn is my new neurological symptoms that have been progressing. while i've had things like sensory issues or brain fog in the past, it's taken such an intense turn to the point that i'm pretty sure i've started having seizures? i hesitate to say that in case i'm wrong but i've been having them a lot. since stopping my meds, it seems to be helping slightly. my brain doesn't feel as overloaded. but i'm still kind of having them. i did go to the ER for one after i had an episode in the urgent care waiting room, and they did a CT which looked fine. they diagnosed it as a "headache" and told me to call my rheumatologist to get off my mycophelate mofetil since they thought it was contributing (and i think it definitely was, especially to my digestive system issues, brain fog, and weird random i'm so sad but idk why mood swing things).

i guess my question is, for people who have had seizures start developing later in life, how did you know it was a seizure? i mean i've looked up stuff online so i'm pretty sure but of course i can't really be sure. and how do you manage seizures day-to-day?

also, for people with chronic pain in general, how do you get people to believe you? i just feel like everyone is starting to think my pain is psychosomatic, which i think of course, some of it is. everyone experiences psychosomatic pain sometimes, and i do have a history of mental illness. but i actually feel pretty good right now!! and i'm doing everything i can to limit my stress, pay attention to my body, give myself positive affirmations, rest, do some gentle movement throughout the day, sleeping a lot (8+ hours usually) on a regular schedule, trying to eat a decent diet, meditate, stretch, i mean, i am really trying everything i can.

but i just don't know what do sometimes. so any advice, especially from other people with chronic pain, is super appreciated. and thank you for reading all of this if you did. i hope you are having a wonderful day!! here's to the lovely journey of becoming closer and more loving with our bodies.

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 2 years

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I saw a concert last night and it was the best I’ve felt in a while. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed that until I did it. It’s not even the first time I’ve seen live music since COVID, I saw a couple of amazing shows at a festival in the summer. And they were special and beautiful and made me feel alive, but there’s still something about what I saw last night that I haven’t experienced in several years. Last night was the Barra MacNeils, a Celtic band from Cape Breton, Nova Scotia that’s made some of my favourite music since I was about five years old. I mean, they’ve been making that music since I was born, and I heard it in my house since I was days old. But I was about five the first time I remember being able to articulate that this song is by the Barra MacNeils and I know and like this song.

I genuinely had not realized how much I missed that specific experience. Most of my life, my dad and I have done a couple of folk festivals every summer and then several concerts throughout the year when the folk people we like play near us. I’ve thought of that as something I love and missed during the pandemic, but didn’t realize how much it was something I needed back. How much not having it was contributing to my feeling of disconnection and of not having my life anymore. I knew that about other things – my sport and the community around it, my friendships that I let go during lockdowns and now struggle to get back. I didn’t realize how much missing live folk music was also part of the disconnection.

It's about way more than the music, which I’ve always known but did not appreciate until last night. How it feels to take this in surrounded by other people who appreciate it as much as I do, most of whom have been appreciating it for at least twice as long as I have even though I’ve had it my whole life, because the average age of a Celtic music concert in my area these days is about 100.

I’ll be honest, I’m in a bit of a cheesy emotional mood at the moment. I’ve been having a rough time mentally for a while, but I just had my birthday when I heard from a few old friends and remembered that I do still have connections, and today I’m seeing more people I care about deeply and have let go of so much in the last two years, and I’m remember things I loved. Like listening to bands tell bad jokes on stage while transitioning from fast fiddling and step dancing, to one of top three most hauntingly beautiful live renditions of the Dougie MacLean song Caledonia that I’ve ever heard (and I’ve heard a lot of them, I’ve been to a lot of folk festivals full of Nova Scotian bands from Scottish families playing Scottish music and bowing down to anything written by actual Scottish person, rightfully in this case because it’s a wonderful song).

The big thing it brought me back to was Celtic Colours, the gold standard of Canadian folk festivals that I’ve been lucky enough to attend twice in my life. You can't get a better Celtic music festival than Celtic Colours without going to actual Celticland. I mean, I assume. I haven't been to the Celticland countries, so I haven't checked. I've always said my city has the best shawarmas outside the actual Middle East because I've tried shawarmas elsewhere and they're always awful, even in big cities like Toronto. But recently a woman who grew up in a few different Middle Eastern countries, including Lebanon, told me the shawarmas are actually better here than there. So you never know, maybe Celtic Colours in Canada is the best in the world.

Anyway, I digress. Celtic Colours takes place for two weeks in October, all over Cape Breton, which is an island off of the East Coast Canadian province of Nova Scotia where as far as I can tell everyone is born with fiddles in their hands. Celtic Colours is where you can hear Gaelic lyrics sung by people who actually speak the language, and instruments that are only still mastered by like 48 people in the world or something, and really traditional music played in bars by nineteen-year-olds. But you can also hear modern Celtic stuff, and every version of ways to blend the modern and trad music, including a number of ways that do not work and I don’t want to hear them, but I’m still sort of glad someone’s trying it.

I was thinking of that anyway this week because it was my 32nd birthday, and I turned 27 and 29 at the Festival Club at Celtic Colours. I was planning to turn 30 there was well, and when the pandemic hit my parents and I talked about planning to go for my 31st birthday instead, but it hasn’t happened. This year, my dad and I were supposed to make up for not doing a pilgrimage halfway across the country to this festival by seeing the Barra MacNeils together instead (the festival’s on right now, I’m pretty sure that band flew straight from there to here to play that concert), but then he contracted COVID and had to give up his ticket so I saw it without him. Maybe next year.

Anyway, the Festival Club is one of the best experiences I’ve ever had. It runs every night of Celtic Colours, where they turn the Gaelic College into a bar for the night. There’s a stage where this one guy from Cape Breton MCs every night, and his name is Buddy MacDonald, because sometimes people are walking, fiddle-playing stereotypes. His presence is consistent and has been every night of the festival since 1997, but otherwise you just get whatever bands and musicians turn up that night. There’s no lineup posted, just people getting up to play, sometimes people who don’t normally play together going up a few at a time, sometimes joining in the middle of each other’s sets. They serve beer until 4:30 AM, at which time they put out a breakfast buffet for anyone who’s stuck around that long. The performers can’t be as drunk as most of the crowd, or they wouldn’t be able to play at all, but they’re definitely… quite a bit looser than what I see from them during the day.

Both times I’ve been to Celtic Colours, I got to the Festival Club as many nights as I could, including the night of my actual birthday, because what better way to spend that could there possibly be? It’s one of my favourite things I’ve ever done, and exactly the type of thing I miss. The music and the atmosphere and the community and the lack of constraints, and the number of people in one place who truly love something. That might be the best way to distill the thing I had in my life pre-COVID and struggle mentally with missing now – being surrounded by people who are passionate about what’s happening.

Last night was not the Festival Club at Celtic Colours on Cape Breton Island, but it was the closest I’ve come to that in three years, and it was wonderful. And… okay, this is going to sound so silly that I almost hesitate to explain it, but I’ll explain it anyway. At one point, the band said, “Hands in the air!” and because I have watched those old Edinburgh Festival Late ‘n Live show videos so many times in the last few weeks (mainly while drunk, I don’t just put them on any time but I have found that they are exactly what my brain wants to watch when it’s drunk), that phrase now immediately sends my brain to people in the Late ‘n Live videos yelling that ironically. I actually started laughing at one point, as the band shouted that unironically, but all I could hear was Daniel Kitson saying it while giggling.

That moment caused something to click for me, as I realized just how much those videos draw me in because they remind me of this. I’d thought before that this Late ‘n Live show reminds me of the Celtic Colours Festival Club, but hadn’t acknowledged just how much that similarity is why I keep watching them. Really, in terms of its actual effect on the environment, shouting “Hands in the air!” ironically or unironically isn’t that different. It’s all people who’ve agreed that they’re going to buy in because they love what’s happening.

When I think about it, I guess part of my brain watches those videos and thinks going to Edinburgh and being at that comedy show would be like the late-night Celtic Colours shows. Even though... it probably wouldn’t be. The Celtic Colours Festival Club draws a crowd that’s younger (as in mostly middle aged as opposed to actual senior citizens, though there are some properly young people) and drunker than the crowd I was in at the concert last night, but they’re still folk music fans. There is much excitement and much dancing and much singing and much drinking and some yelling, but in my nights there, I never saw any behaivour I thought was bad. While with the Edinburgh Late ‘n Live show, in the one form of it that I’ve seen, which is YouTube clips from the 00s - I’d be surrounded by drunk comedy fans. I’m willing to bet they’re a lot more obnoxious than drunk folk music fans. If I were actually there I might just be annoyed.

So that’s something I realized last night. I realized I basically enjoy those videos because they make me feel like I’m in a college auditorium that’s been converted to a bar, listening to a packed room sing along to Go Lassie Go by like ten different performers on stage together while drunk at 3 AM. Well, my reason for enjoying those videos is that, and the light in Daniel Kitson’s eyes when he realizes that David O’Doherty has come up with the groundbreakingly original joke of suggesting he’s faking his stutter. I just... he looks so happy, so amazed and pleased to be there, and I don’t know what it is about that moment that delights him so much, but I have not managed to watch it enough times for it to stop making me smile.

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#Youtube

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kweeen-decon · 2 years

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first day on the job // 2.23.2022

So, I recently got a job as a crime scene decontaminator in mid-February and let me just start off by saying that within the short period of time btwn training & actually going on a job has been amazing! I was so excited to just land this job considering I've been into crime related stuff since I can remember; I'd always wanted to be a pathologist but med school was too intimidating for me, so I ended up getting a BA in Criminal Justice. In preparation for a first clean up job, I had to drive to St. George to get fitted for my respirator. The drive from Vegas to St. George alone was amazing filled w scenery & landscape so beautiful & w a few prerolls packed for the drive, it truly was lovely. So after getting my respirator, literally 2 weeks later, I got the call from my boss that there was a house to be clean in St. George; suicide, gunshot. I had a two hr drive ahead of me but I was ready; to me that was perfect so I can mentally prepare myself. I left Vegas around 9:30 am and got to the house about 12:40 pm (there's an hour time difference btwn Vegas & Utah just fyi). As if this day wasn't exciting for me already, I grew up in a desert so this when I say this, I say this as if a child says this: it began to snow as I entered St. George & when I got out of the car to the house we needed the clean, it was still falling and I have never seen snow falling from the sky before; IT WAS SO MAGICAL! I had to contain myself bc I didn't want to seem insensitive considering the line of work I'm doing, however, I will end that thought with this, I knew right then that it was going to be a great day. After the snow show, I found where I was supposed to be & when I say I was nervous, I was NERVOUS. I had no idea what to expect other than a person who had committed suicide. The area in which John Doe killed himself in like a garage but indoors; it was home to the family's extra fridge, extra dry food storage, and the home of all the guns & ammo. The person who took their life was about 80 years old w quite a few health issues & didn't feel that they had a good quality of life, so he ended it. Personally, I can understand how someone would go to this extreme, for a lack of better words, when dealt a shitty deal like that. When I saw where the biohazard was, I started to calm down a bit since it wasn't as gruesome as I had thought. John Doe took his life w a .22 so the spatter wasn't extreme & the pooling wasn't as bad either. Luckily, since this was my first clean, I had other co-workers there to help guide me on what to do; the training videos are helpful as hell but with work like this, its easier to learn by actually doing in the moment. In this case, watching can be just as helpful. As my team members helped clear the space in the room so that we can get a detailed clean, I went to the bathroom to fill our solutions; we have Indicator, let's us know what is actually blood so we know exactly where to clean, we have Enzyme, which when sprayed on blood (wet or dry) helps lift the blood off the surface for a more detailed clean, we have Disinfectant, for obvious reason, & lastly Odorizor for more obvious reasons. After I got our solutions made up, I was able to get really hands on and help clean up the actual scene. My fellow teammates had to leave for whatever reasons but that just meant the work was all mine now; I spent the last hour of cleaning by myself, dealing w the detailed scrubbing. After about 4 hours of cleaning the house, the job was finally done & then came the hardest part, well for me. I hate confrontation but I'll be your support if need be, so when we're done w a cleaning, my boss usually does a walk through w the family to give them reassurance of any and all blood being gone from the scene & we answer any questions they may have. The worst part for me, however, is one of the most important parts to the ppl we come in contact w bc at the end of the day, we helped them, to the best of our ability, to make that house a home again by cleaning out the grim history that may have taken place.

#crime scene #decontamination #biohazard #death #prayfordeath #crime scene cleaners #desert decontamination

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cassandrajoybellbittner · 3 months

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*Warning Adult Content*

ERASING BAD MEMORIES - Chapter 15

Ahote

It took a while for the shock to wear off amongst my pack members but it eventually did.

Alex was effectively my partner now and people had to treat him as such regardless of if they were wary of him or not.

"Dad?"

I looked up, following Elan's gaze to the play room's door.

I'd missed the person that had walked by but I could smell Alek and hear his voice echoing from the end of the hallway.

A smile formed on my lips and when I looked from the door to my son, I found him staring at me with curious eyes.

'He's probably wondering why I'm staring at the door.' I thought to myself as I reached out a hand to brush his dark hair away from his face.

We were alone in the small playroom.

It didn't have much.

Wolves preferred to play outdoors but a few toys, crayons, drawing books and coloring books were kept in case someone fell ill and couldn't go outdoors.

Elan was an exception, of course.

He's always been reserved and quiet, mostly sticking close to Len and recently, Alek if he wasn't busy.

As I continued to run my fingers through Elan's dark hair, I thought of what my son had said previously.

He had called on to Alek as if he was his father.

Instead of feeling a little uneasy about it, I wondered where he picked that up from.

Maybe it just occurred to him to do so because other cubs had two parents and assuming Alek was a parent in some way wasn't far off.

He spent a lot of time with me and we stood side by side when meetings were called or adults were discussing issues.

Like lovers and in the eyes of children, like parents and married people in the pack.

The past weeks have been odd.

Len still won't look at me in the eyes and he always avoided me, leaving the rooms when I entered them or pretending not to hear me when I called out to him when we crossed paths.

I had wondered what that was about and asked Kaya and she had just shaken her head, clicking her tongue as she lamented to me about breaking the boy's heart.

I had been confused but had slowly realized that Len had a crush on me and being with Alex made him upset.

I felt bad about it.

Not because I was with Alek but because I hadn't noticed that Len saw me in that way.

Maybe I would have established some sort of boundaries over the years.

A weak smile formed on my face as I rocked Elan in my arms.

Len would be eighteen in a year plus and he would feel a pull to his mate and forget all about me.

With that knowledge, I decided not to feel too bad about it but I made a mental note to myself to try and hunt him down for a talk.

I couldn't bear him avoiding me or Elan.

"No," I said in a low voice when Elan reached for a fist full of my shirt.

I unclenched his small hand, putting it away before raising him on my lap a bit so that I could press a kiss to his forehead.

My son laughed when I playfully nibbled his earlobe and I laughed too, letting my deeper voice join his high-pitched squeals of joy.

Looking at Elan now, I couldn't believe that there was a time that I didn't want him.

I couldn't believe that I acted like he didn't exist for almost a month after I gave birth to him.

A frown formed on my face as I thought about it but I almost instantly put up a smile so that Elan wouldn't see me sad.

After giving birth to Elan he was taken away from me when I rejected the midwife's proposal to hold him.

I kept refusing to see him for days, weeks... the whole month.

I just sat in bed and cried for the most part.

It wasn't a happy memory.

Honon's rejection had eaten me from the inside out.

He left after being with me in such an intimate way.

He left the pack the next day, not the next week or month.

The next day.

Being with me like that had been that painful for him.

Finding out that I was pregnant had felt like someone had dunked my head underwater.

On one hand, I was happy I had a bit of Honon with me and on some days, I'd remember what happened and would just cry and cry.

I shut my eyes and opened them again, holding on to Elan closely as he played with the beads strung together into bracelets that he had on his wrist.

I didn't need to think about that horrible experience anymore.

I had Alek now.

My face warmed up when I thought of sleeping with Alek.

We've been together a few more times after the first time.

Before sleeping with him the only person I'd ever known that way was Honon and Honon engaged with me in a way that communicated his disgust for him... in a way that communicated his disgust for himself.

Alek's touches were sweet and gentle.

The way he looked at me made my heart melt and toes curl.

Honon never looked at me like that.

Honon never looked at me like he loved me.

Alek was everything I was told a mate should be and Honon failed in every aspect of it.

I blinked a few times, realizing where my thoughts had run to.

Did Alek love me?

I would be lying if I said I didn't think he did.

He looked at me like he loved me.

He treated me like he loved me.

He did everything a person who was in love did aside from saying that he was in love.

And actions were greater than words, weren't they?

"There you are."

Focusing on my thoughts had made me not realize when someone had walked up to the door.

A smile formed on my lips when I saw who it was.

Kaya was resting her side on the door, holding her hip with one hand, while gesturing to Elan with the other.

"It's time for lunch," she said, making Elan stare at her without saying anything.

I picked him up from my lap before dropping him on the floor and he seemed to get the hint because he wandered off to meet her.

"Dad?" he said out of the blue when Kaya took a hold of his hand.

The playroom seemed to attain pin drop silence at Elan's word.

Kaya looked over to me as if expecting me to react.

It seemed she already knew what he was talking about and hadn't just told me.

I smiled at her, confirming that I didn't have a problem with it.

"He's in the kitchen," Kaya, turning Elan towards the exit before leaving with the boy.

'Aponi doesn't like that he does this.'

I swallowed down the spit in my mouth when Kaya's voice filled my head.

Yes, I knew she was still skeptical of Alek and didn't treat him too kindly.

I wondered what that was about.

Even Kaya had warmed up to him even though Alek and her hand had a little spat over Zeke.

It wasn't like Aponi was Honon's relative.

She had no reason to keep pushing Honon on me but she did.

She occasionally asked me when I would tell Honon that he had a son even though she knew I never planned to.

It seemed she had a reason to believe that alone would have him rushing back to me.

Her pestering about it increased since Alek and I got together.

It made me uncomfortable and I've slowly spoken to her less because of it.

As I picked at my fingers and thought about this, I didn't notice when someone walked into the room and snuck up behind me until there were hands on my shoulder giving them a small squeeze.

I let out a small gasp, looking up to find a cheeky grin and icy blue eyes.

I looked away sharply because I couldn't handle the feeling that overwhelmed me.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," Alek said in a low voice.

I shook my head, realizing that my reaction must have worried him.

"It's okay. You didn't scare me. I just..."

With a pause, I swallowed the saliva in the back of my throat before looking back at him.

I bit my bottom lip, watching as his brows formed a confused frown and his eyes observed my features.

"Elan calls you Dad," I said, trying to fill the soundless void.

Alek's lips curved into a smile at that and his eyes twinkled.

"Do you want to be his Dad?" I asked,and Alek nodded, hugging my shoulders as he looked on the blackboard hanging in the corner.

I looked away from him, feeling my chest swell up with happiness.

I reached out to hold the arms he had wrapped around me, letting myself be enclosed in his embrace and his warmth.

The calm feeling of my wolf further enhanced the experience.

Alek took my hands off him after a while before leaning off my chair and taking his hands away.

"I need to be in the kitchen. Elan wanted me to cut his fish up," he said and I chuckled, waving him off as he walked away.

When the door closed behind him, I smiled to myself, not believing that he really was mine.

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