#cleaning out my car for my brother who i drive to therapy every other week? fuck yes its going to be nice and clean because therapy is impo

[curioscurio]

Got up early (for me), ate a light and healthy breakfast, applied to some jobs, took a long mental health walk with the dogs, gave one of them a bath, and even did some phone calls and messaging regarding my medication and pharmacy problems and managed to sort it out without breaking down!!! And! Showered!! Kicking ASS at mental health today

#im studying myself like a bug. with no judgement or compulsive self hate when i see the results. and then doing something different based on #those results #and its working #ive noticed that im much more productive when i have someone else to help or listen to. its a little uh sad because im not easily able to #to take care of myself and do things for MYSELF. but if its for someone else then its like i gain momentum #going out to clean out MY car? well i dont care how gross it is im not worth the effort. #cleaning out my car for my brother who i drive to therapy every other week? fuck yes its going to be nice and clean because therapy is impo #rtant and i want to help you stick with it and so we make it not a chore but lighthearted sibling time #like do you get it #anyway slow progress is still progress #the number of good days are slowly catching up to the number of bad days #post beginning of the pandemic 2020 was so brutal on me. moving back in with my parents especially #but i have a plan now . a real one. and friends to help me as well ! #oops rambling in the tags haha #long tags

[mammonswhore]

Brothers get the COVID vaccine (and the side effects)

a/n: i was not going to whine about the side effects of the vaccine but this is my blog and i can whine and cry as much as i want to so enjoy this,love.

For the sake of this headcanon I am going to state that in order to go to the human world every demon has to get the vaccine in case someone is half or part human and the virus mutates and becomes a pandemic in the Devildom.

✒Lucifer

Very much the easiest of them to get the vaccine. He just went in,talked a bit with the nurses and didn't even flinch.

Come on,he is Lucifer,what were all of you expecting if not grace and a very fancy facade?

Because yes,it is a facade.

Everyone in the House knows that he is suffering some of the side effects of the vaccine yet they can't say shit because there's a small chance Lucifer would kick their butts and let them sleep on the streets for two nights at least.

He acts calm and collected when he is around other people tho (MC and his brothers are family so they have to suck it up and deal with it,he is done making an effort for today so shut up and let him groan in peace).

He is only apologizing with MC after but only if they stayed with him and pampered him a little.

8/10 because he won't apologize to his brothers for sucking up and try and help him. (Maybe Beel on)y).

✒Mammon

As much as I love making fun of Mammon (very lovingly,ofc) I really think he would not make a fuss out of it,he only had to look away from the nurses when he got the vaccine and that was it.

But he is whining and complaining about the fever,the pain and itching spots all day when he gets home.

Same as Lucifer,acts cool ad if nothing happened when he is out of the House but damn,his brothers want to kick him out for all the noise he is making.

He wants to be pampered and for once,he is going to say it.

He wants a blanket,MC,some soup and a thermometer so he can check on himself every hour and half,thank yooooou.

Really clingy and adorable,his cheeks are constantly red because of the fever but he is not shy to acknowledge it to keep MC for himself a little bit more.

10/10 because he is acting like a grown man and voicing his needs for once.

✒Levi

I love you I love you,right? You are very whiny and you are going to have a rough week buddy.

He tries to suck it up so no one can make fun of him but he let's out a choked gasp when he sees the needle pinching through his skin.

"Lucifer you need to take me to therapy after this."

He is crying silently,he is in the back of the car cleaning his tears with the back of his sleeves while Lucifer drives them to the House again.

He wants to be left alone but not completely, more likely to scoop MC out of the ground and lock both of them on his room for a day.

When his fever hits he just goes to his tank and stays there until he can calm himself down. Probably the only brother who doesn't even have to think avout getting problems with his breathing since,um,well,sea monster.

10/10 when he is not whining complaining.

✒Satan

He is acting super calm,only closes his eyes and furrows his eyebrows when he gets the vaccine. Thanks the nurses and tells them to have a great day when he is about to leave.

Satan is the most polite and under control between his brothers so he is trying to keep his itching,difficult to breath and lost of taste on check while not making a whole deal about it.

Very chill when because of the fever some cats lay on top of him wanting some of his body warm. Happy boi.

He did his research and made sure not to get something that could injury him (and his brothers but you better sit and wait if you want him to admit that).

Overall 10/10,he doesn't need anyone to pamper him but he won't refuse to it if it's MC asking.

✒Asmo

He is sad when he gets his vaccine and has go leave,he loved chatting with the nurses! Didn't even noticed when he got the dose because he was too invested talking.

He says goodbye to everyone with a smile om his face,honestly the best person the nurses ever saw when getting the vaccine.

So well behaved afterwards,he checks his fever,massages his arm so he won't get sore and makes sure no one hits his arm so it wont be painful.

He wants to be pampered (if he could pick he would choose MC but actually anyone is good) and he is not afraid to voice his needs.

Wants to have a spa night while talking about things he likes and checking his arm.

100/10 best boy ever I love him.

✒Beel

Only says "oh" when he gets the vaccine then acts unfazed. He is a strong man so he knows how to keep his feelings in check.

He gets ice cream for himself when he is done hearing about what he has to do to take care of the vaccine and how bad can they side effects be.

Talks Belphie and Lucifed about it, Belphie helps him sleep through the fever and offers a shoulder to cry on if he looses his sense of taste and Lucifer is researching a few arm workouts that would avoid his arm to go sore.

Besides the fever and random lost of senses he is fine and acts normal,not a big deal for him.

15/10 he won't make an act about his pain unless he needs to.

✒Belphie

He gets very dizzy when he gets the vaccine, something about it makes him extremely calm.

Most likely to have a fever,I just have that feeling. Beel cuddles him and makes sure he is well fed and rested so Lucifer won't have to.

He gets more sensitive than other times so don't even try to wake him up because he will lash out and it won't be pretty,'kay?

Makes a burrito of himself and his brothers have to carry him around the house either for changing his sleeping spot or for him to shower,eat,interact with other beings.

Inside the burrito there's only person allowed by his side,MC. He is not asking for permission,he is bringing MC with him whenever he has to go somewhere.

9/10 because he practically kidnapped MC and is taking advantage of the youngest child privilege.

#obey me #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me scenarios #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me brothers #om! mammon #om! lucifer #om! belphegor #om! satan #om! leviathan #om! beelzebub #om! asmodeus #om! headcanons #om! shall we date #om swd #om! swd

[bebepac]

A Quarter For Your Thoughts

This is chapter 6 of Just The Way You are.  To catch up on what you’ve been reading click:  Just the Way You Are Masterlist

The Book:  CROSSOVER: Perfect Match x TRR

Pairing:  Hayden x Kai  /  TRR MC is single (past pairing includes Nico Karahalios) 

Word Count: 2489

Summary:  Liam walks Riley home after some strange things happens.  Even more strange events continue as Liam goes inside Riley’s apartment for the first time.  Hayden and Kai have a date night out with Dipper.  

Riley, Liam, Hayden, Kai, Chance and Dipper, all belong to Pixelberry, all others are my own characters to help tell our story. 

Warnings: Mention of character death, Profanity.

This is my submission for @choicesfebchallenge​ day #9  Chance.  Which I took completely literal. 

A/N:  DW is at it again.  We have two special guest stars in this episode  Pops and Mia visit Just The Way You Are, from my series: Pops Place. The dynamic is slightly different as they have crossed into this AU.  You’ll see. 

Song Inspiration:  “If I Could Turn Back The Hands Of Time” R Kelly 

I don’t own rights to the Music.

She walked in silence with Liam, holding the quarter tight in her hand. Could Liam have given it to her? It didn't make sense, why or how she got the coin, unless Nico really came to her. But Riley didn't believe in the supernatural, Riley barely believed in God in recent years, her faith completely shaken, and honestly nonexistent after Nico's untimely passing.

The idea of peace of having religion in her life Riley found comforting. However, she hated the idea of the same entity that placed Nico in her life for her to love, had not even two years later ripped him away from her so suddenly, it was cruel.  How could something supposedly so good,  be so cruel?

He murdered Nico. That's what Donovan Jacobs did when he decided to get behind the wheel of his SUV knowing he should not be driving and him striking Nico's SUV, essentially taking the greatly loved father, son, soon to be fiancé (we know Riley would have accepted his proposal), and best friend. There was hurt and anger in Riley's heart now for it and he was going to feel every bit of it when she gazed upon his face at the trial.

Riley had only seen Donovan's picture in the paper. But trust and believe she hated the man.

"Are you going home Riley? Maybe you should lay down for a bit once you get there."

"That might be a good idea."

"Do you mind if I walk  with you? I just don't want you to get dizzy again and be alone."

Riley nodded.

He helped her gather her blanket and guitar. He glanced down seeing a little cop car on his headstone.

"That's cute."

"Nico was a criminal profiler for the NYPD. His son left it."

"You have a son?"

"He's not my blood, but I feel like he's mine. He just turned 10 two months ago.  He’s still a very large part of my life. I see him at least several times a week."

"That's good you’ve stayed consistent for him. Often times... when relationships.....end... the kids are left missing the person they got to know."

"He has a lot of father figures in his life now to try to help him cope, my brother and my friends, we make sure he's loved."

"That's noble of your friends."

When they arrived at the apartment she noticed Liam was sweating a little.

"Do you want to come up and cool off for a bit? Maybe have a drink?"

"I don't drink."

"It's barely past noon. I'm not an alcoholic. I meant like lemonade or something."

Liam laughed,  "My bad. Sure."

Liam followed Riley to her apartment. Her door was painted a bright pink.

"That's unique."

She glanced at him.

"That means you hate it."

"No it's unique. I like pink.  Men can like pink."

He winked at Riley.

Riley opened the door to her apartment.

Putting her keys in the dish beside the door. Riley's apartment was spacious, decorated, nice and neat.

"Here Chance!"  She called out to a small Corgi that came running around the corner.

Riley was a few paces in front of Liam.  Chance ran right around Riley and barked happily at Liam.

Riley turned around and looked at Liam.

Liam picked up Chance and laughed as he licked his  face.

"Hey Buddy."

"He normally doesn't like strangers."

"Yeah I can tell he's absolutely ruthless. You've got quite the attack dog here Riley."

Riley laughed out loud.

He put Chance down.

Chance started rolling over on the floor, in front of Liam, and he had crouched down, giving Chance tummy scratches.

"My attack dog is absolutely worthless! See why I have a conceal and carry? He'd lick our intruder to death."

Liam smiled.

"Well at least he killed them. Kindness might not be the most effective route  though."

Riley burst out laughing.

He loved her laugh, and she seemed to like his corny jokes.

"Do you mind if I use your bathroom?"

"Sure it's…." Riley's phone rang. She paused to answer.

Liam knew walked down the hallway. He knew exactly where it was.

When he was done he could hear Riley still on the phone.  She was speaking in Greek again.  He walked into her room glancing around it.  It caught the light of the sun. He walked to her night table and on it there was a man's watch.

He picked it up. Maybe she was seeing someone. He turned the watch over finding, it was broken and the time on the watch was 6:32. He knew immediately what he was looking at. Nico's watch, and time the accident happened.  He put the watch down and picked up the picture frame.  It was Riley, with who he was guessing was Nico, in a cute candid photo. Riley was wearing a blue dress her head tilted back laughing while Nico held her tight in his arms. When his fingers grazed the face of the watch he felt a jolt of electricity go through him causing the watch to drop back on the night table.

Laughter. Riley's laughter was soft in his ear. He wrapped his arms around her while he was wearing the watch.

What the?.... he thought. But it was still working. He noticed the second hand still moving. What is this? Liam thought.

"No, stay in bed with me. Both of us are off today."

That wasn't his voice he thought.

"I'm hungry, I'm going to make us some breakfast. You relax. You work so hard."

He hugged her tightly.  "You feed those curves Girl."

Riley got out of bed exposing her naked body to him.

Liam gasped. Holy hell!!! God she was perfect in every way.

Then he heard his voice, but not his voice say..

"I love every inch of your sexy body Riley. You're so beautiful, you're my goddess."

She slipped her robe on. "Well your Goddess says go back to sleep." She kissed his lips softly.

"What are you doing?"

Liam jumped, and could still taste Riley on his lips when he opened his eyes.

He didn't know what happened, following her eyes to the floor. He had dropped her picture frame.

"I'm so….so  sorry Riley."

"It's okay, just let me clean it up. You go back to the living room."

Riley was carefully picking up the pieces of glass.

She glanced back at Liam as he walked out the door. Chance followed behind him, like he was his shadow.

When she came back in the room both Liam and Chance looked sad. Chance was sitting on Liam's lap.

"I'm sooo sorry Riley." Liam's voice was so apologetic.

"It's okay Liam. It was an accident."  She carried two glasses of lemonade and handed him one.

"Thank you."

"I've never seen Chance so taken with someone."

In minutes, Chance had already fallen asleep in Liam's lap.

"He must recognize dog people. They always had therapy dogs visit  when I was in the hospital. Dogs are so good at sensing when you are alone, scared or sad."

"What were you in the hospital for?"

"Not winning the genetic lottery." Liam smiled weakly.

"Are you okay now?"

"Yes, Things are great!"

"My friend Drake says that all the time."

There was something about his life that he wasn't ready to share either. She could relate to that.

Riley changed the subject and they continued to talk. Time flew by.  Chance finally woke up.

"Oh thank God," Liam said standing up. "My legs are asleep."

"He does that to me too. Looks like you're his favorite person now."

"Then maybe we should see more of each other at places he might frequent.  I guess he can bring you along too, Riley. You know to the dog walking park, the fire hydrant right out front, the vet?”

Riley smiled again.  

“Chance you call me when you want to hang out brotha.”  

Riley bit her lip.  “Maybe Chance would like to have breakfast tomorrow.”  

“It is the most important meal of the day I hear.  We should start our day off right.  Good thinking Chance. I’d like that.”  

“Take care of yourself Riley.  See you tomorrow Chance.”  

Chance barked excitedly.  

Riley hurried and changed clothes to get ready to head over to Nico’s mother’s house for dinner.  

“I want to get out of the house tonight Hayden.  Let’s do something out tonight.”

“There’s a movie on the lawn at the park.”  

“What’s playing?”

“Since it's almost Halloween they are doing a Fright Night Series. Stir of Echoes.”  

“Oooooh. Spooky I love that one!!!!!  What food truck do they have tonight?  Please say it’s Pop’s On The Go. I really need you to say it’s Pop’s on the Go.”  

“Well Kai I hate to disappoint you, but the food truck they’re having is…. Pop’s On The Go.”  

Kai was ready to be disappointed until she had realized fully what he said.

“Pops and Mia are so cute,  they banter back and forth together they are adorable.  I really wish they had an actual restaurant.  I definitely would eat there all the time.   His chilli cheese fries are life.”  

“So do we want blankets or folding chairs?”

“We want blankets,” they both said in unison smiling at each other.  

They got their blankets  and headed to the park with Dipper in tow.  

“Dipper be a good girl and mommy will give you some chilli cheese fries.”  

Dipper barked happily.

“You will not give our baby chilli cheese fries.  Has she had chilli cheese fries before?”

Kai shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe?"

“Kai, seriously?”

“She’s got a stomach of rocks like her Momma.”  

“Kai…..”  

“You love me.”  

“Let’s get us our chilli cheese fries.  None for Dipper.”  

“Hey Pops!”  

“Kai! I knew I’d be seeing you tonight! You always seem to make it out this way when our truck is out here.”

“You have the best snacks around Pops.  Can we get two orders of chilli cheese fries, with two colas?”

“And I got something for you Dipper.”  

Pops took out a box of dog treats.  

“Got to make all my customers happy.”  

He handed Hayden dog treats for Dipper.

“Thank you Pops.”  

“Mia, did you make those shirts?”

Mia nodded.  

Pops and Mia were wearing matching shirts.  There were also a few hanging on the side of the van.  

“You should be in design school, you’d do really well there.”  

“It’s just a hobby.”

“Looks like an untapped revenue stream to me.”  Hayden responded.

“We’ll also be taking two of your shirts too.”  

Mia perked up.  “Really?”

“See, I told you people would like them Pops.”

“Yep Pops, you’re looking stylish.”

Pop's stuck his chest out proudly. "She makes me a stylish and proud pops every day!"

Pops gave Mia a smile as she pulled down the shorts they wanted, and bagged them up.

They paid for their food and their shirts and picked a comfy spot on the lawn.

Hayden placed their blankets on the ground while Kai held the food.  He set up their large blanket first,  and even Dipper got her own Dipper sized blanket to curl up on and in.   Dipper quickly curled up on her own little blanket, while Hayden and Kai got settled under the tree.  

He loved watching Kai watch movies. She had so many. Hayden had to build another book shelf for Kai's DVD collection.  And this movie he had seen with her several times.  Kai was engrossed in the movie as if it was her first time watching it.

“And all this happened because he was hypnotized to be more open minded.  It’s crazy and I love it!!!”

Kai begrudgingly went to the bathroom seeing Mia walking out.

"Mia! Your shirts you made are truly awesome.”

“Thanks Kai, that means a lot.”  

“And I was serious about design school, how old are you now Mia?”

“I’m nineteen.”  

“You should be in college sweetheart.”

“Pops needs me. Things have been really hard for us.  I used to think about things like college before Mom got sick.  She had cancer.”

“She’s in remission?”  

“No… she died.”  

“I’m so sorry Mia.”  

Mia’s eyes filled with tears.  

“So my last two years of high school my grades weren’t good.  I helped take care of my mom and worked with Pops.  I probably couldn’t get into a design school anyway.”  

That sweet young girl, that always had a smile on her face every time she saw her, was carrying the weight of the world in her heart.  

She hugged Mia.  

“You’re going to get the chance to chase your dream Mia.  Please don’t give up on it.”  

“Thank you Kai, I’ve got to get back.”

Kai headed back over to Hayden embracing him.  

“What’s wrong?”  

Kai told him about her exchange with Mia.

"I'm gonna call Hana and see if she has some contacts out this way that can see Mia's work.

"That's nice of you Kai."

"Mia's a good kid, she shouldn't have to give up on her dream because her family has had a rough time."

Liam got a text early that next morning.  "Chance couldn't make it, and he was wondering if it was okay for Riley to meet him instead?"

"Sure, I guess Riley is an okay substitute,  though I was kind of looking forward to hanging out with my main man Chance."

Riley smiled down at the text.  What was that feeling she was feeling in her heart. She took a deep breath. She went over to her dresser expecting it to be gone. She imagined it all. But the coin was still there.  She put it in her pocket. And headed to the restaurant.  

Riley was already there when he got there.

He walked up to her pulling out the chair and sitting across from her.

Her glance shot up at him.

"Um….."

"Hey, how are you doing?"

"Fine… Can I help you?"

"I know I wasn't who you were expecting as a breakfast buddy today."

Liam smiled at his joke. Riley did not.

"I actually wasn't expecting anyone."

"Okay…." He wasn't quite sure what game Riley was playing.

"So are you going to order the same thing or get something different?"

"We don't know each other."

"Riley, you're acting really strange."

"That's your problem right there, I'm not Riley, I'm her sister."

He wondered if this had anything to do with her fainting yesterday.

"Riley, this is weird and teetering on the edge of certifiable. You invited me to breakfast and if you didn't want to meet up, you could have said and pretended to be, oh I don't know your twin sister? Thanks but no thanks."

"Not Riley, corny jokes dude! You seem like just the type she would like."

Liam jumped up from the table heading towards the door. When he saw her. Riley was walking through the door.  She smiled at him.

Liam halted in his tracks.

"Hi Liam, I hope I'm not too late. Chance was upset he couldn't make it and I had to cheer him up."

She smiled. Liam looked incredibly confused.

Liam glanced back at the woman sitting at the table. She smirked at him.

"Told you, I'm not Riley." She waved at him.

He turned around to face Riley again.

"So…. I guess you met my twin sister Taylor."

Tagging: @dcbbw @queenjilian @jessiembruno @bbrandy2002 @khoicesbyk @janezillow @sillypapermango @gkittylove99 @gabesmommie1130 @mom2000aggie @jared2612 @shewillreadyou @zoehanji @queenwalton @kingliam2019 @mrsdrakewalkerblog @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @lovablegranny @batgirlassociationofgothamcity @iaminlovewithtrr @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful  @ladyangel70 @twinkleallnight @kat-tia801 @caseyvalentineramsey @thequeenchoices @yourmajesty09 @secretaryunpaid @sfb123 @neotericthemis @royalromancer​ @sweatyrysconnoisseur​

#bebepac writes #just the way you are #cross over #perfect match #trr au #perfect match fanfic #trr fanfic #perfect match fandom #trr fandom #hayden and kai #liam and riley #choices fic writes creations #choicesfebruarychallenge2021 #choicesfebchallengeday9 #chance #tw character deaths #tw cancer

[alijaymtz]

Its been years since ive been here, it seems like this is the only place where i feel irrelevant and disconected from the real world. 

A lot has changed since I last wrote how I felt. 

I moved, began college, and live with my father. 

Ive said it before but there is no person I hate more than that man, he does things and then forgets the damage he caused but instead he knows how to guilt trip others. 

Im currently studying psychology, and through the study of it ive been able to categorize my father with borderline personality disorder. I doubt he’ll ever know nor will i ever tell him. 

I’ve learned to mask myself, my depression, my anger, my personality, when im home with him. Everything disapoints him. There are times that he forgets telling me to tell something to other people and then I am left in a negative place. “But you told me to tell them” ...”I never said that, IN MY LIFE IVE NEVER SAID THAT” ...

Its been two days since ive told him im styuduing to become a psychologist, today, while driving home from the gym, he asks me if I have some type of mental disorder in a joking way. I tell him “yeah, I am bipolar.” but according to several tests we’ve been reviewing in class. “yeah that makes sense” he says “I noticed since you left me when you were young”. 

When I was a child my father used to abuse my mother, hes done several crazy and traumatizing things, he broke her ribs, punched her, kicked her on the ground, for small things like burnt food or her complaining he returned home at 2 am. Back then my mother, who I think was brave, decided it was no longer safe to live with my dad because he began beating my older brother just as much as he beat my mom. 

She picked a bag, dumped in mostly my clothing and my brothers, and we headed straight to the police. Unfortunetly, they were unable to help us. So we went to the embasy, and they sent us to a shelter for women. Over the next few years I lived in shelter homes, foster homes, but safe. At one point I lived without my brother and mother but was happy, and safe. 

My mother was sent by court to return to Mexico, so we packed up and came with her. My dad staying behind “as the bread winner” or whatever. We lived in a small one bedroom with no beds or other furniture but we were happy... Untill my dad came. For a while he seemed content, unbothered, but a few months later he returned to his demonic state. 

He would not only hit my mother to the pulp, my brother, now he did it to me too. He began to fear we were becoming Mexican and began to teach us the muslim way. Through the dicipline in his feet, he’d kick us untill out noses bleed then a few minutes later kiss our cheeks and talk to us kindly about our mistakes. As a child, my mother spoke spanish, my father english. Now i was introduced Urdu, Arabic, and was expected to learn whole texts and prayers in minutes.

It was always like that, yell, hit, kissing cheeks. Sometimes he would break things in between. 

When i turned 17, my father had left for the first time in years to his homeland in Pakistan. He was gone for 3 months and during that time my brother, mother, and I sat almost every night planning how we could disapear because no matter what we did or how we did it, he’d always find us. 

My mother had gotten surgery while my dad was away, we spent a long time with her in the hospital. We had days were we wouldnt eat, sleep, or do anything other than sit. But we were happy.

One time, before he left,  He cut my mother with a knife ,In my room while I saw him stab her. I didnt want that to ever happen again. Another time, my father was mad my mom brought up him bringing a nehibor lady into the house while we were in school and she was working, but somehow he flipped it into “Jelousy” because there is no other reason why a wife would say something about it...He was so mad he beat my mother after her chemo. For weeks she couldnt move, she was in my room with the lights off and bearly eating because he wouldnt let us take her any food. But we could hear her moan in pain. Another time, he beat my brother into the street, the whole neiborhood came out to see. He dragged my brother into the stone floors and picked up a rock about my brothers head size. I swore I saw him die. I was pulled into a house by a lady and her daughters tried to calm me down as I couldnt breath. I prayed he was alive. 

A few hours passed and my father was looking for me, he knocked on every door. I sneaked out and returned home. 

So, the point to this is the following. When my dad returned from Pakistan, i closed the doors and made no sound. He couldnt come in. He would just leave after a while. He knew we were inside. I felt my breath becoming loud. He could hear. He left. 

For the next few days he would come and talk to my mom, who said “the kids don’t want you in” followed my “I brought gifts”. My mother who was still walking with a cane, felt pitty for her husband, who had been sleeping in a motel for days. So, she let him in “for a few hours”. Feeling the room shrink i sent a help messege to a cousin of mine whom told her mom. In a matter of minutes a car popped infront of the house with three aunts and one cousin, they demanded I go with them. 

Without looking at my brother, I saved myself. For two months I lived with my aunt and her 4 kids. I cleaned and she would tip me in order to help me pay for psychiatic help (she also paid it).  One day my mom showed up and told me she would do anything for me to return, i never asked how bad things were in those two months for them. I made a list asking her to go to therapy with me, for him to not look at me or say a word. I went back. He was calm a whole year, not one word was said to me. I didnt leave my room and I swear my skin went from olive to pale yellow skin for the time I spent in there. 

So today, he said “I noticed since you left me when you were young”...”Because a normal person wouldnt do that”. 

[fosterem]

I kicked off my weekend last night by doing 3 home visits with 3 of my favorite foster homes.

I miss the flexibility that daycare gave me, but I’m really enjoying the space from my children/and the interaction with humans who don’t drool. (Disclaimer: I do love the interaction with the kids on my caseload. Even if they drool).

I don’t even mind all of the paperwork. The thing I like least, is going to court 🥲 The court system is the reason for 99.9% of all my problems. Like.. what’s going on over there? Need any help to move things along?

It’s going to be in the 50’s today. I cranked open all of my windows this morning. I’m sick of the stale. We’re at the point in winter where everything feels gross. I have air purifiers running in our house, but it’s definitely not the same.

Everyone is getting clean sheets today. I’m washing all throw pillow covers/throw blankets/rugs. I need to take my car for an oil change, and then I really want to vacuum it out and scrub it down. I have no idea what my children do, but there are mud/foot/scuff marks up the doors/back of seats in their spots, and I’m sick of looking at it.

Thursday marked 5 years of m+m living with me. My brother is driving down from the city to come celebrate with my parents and other brother/sister in law. I haven’t seen my brothers since Thanksgiving, or my parents since Christmas. I miss my family. My grandparents are fully vaccinated, so we stopped by (masked) to see them. My grandpa is on a slow (very slow) decline and covid times seem bitter sweet. I’m thankful for the summer we got to spend with them. Time we wouldn’t have gotten if covid wasn’t a thing. We spent almost every day over in their backyard with them. Memories I’m thankful my kids get to shove in their love bank. I have contradicting feelings surrounding my grandparents, but they’re good at loving my kids in big ways.. and I’ll always be grateful for that.

Two more weeks until the expected arrival of my bb niece. She’s measuring close to 8 pounds, and my sister in law is t i n y. I can’t wait to sniff her head.

I got my dad + my girlfriend’s dad signed up for the vaccine. The grocery store releases slots at midnight, and the spots are taken by 12:04. My mom has very limited availability and doesn’t understand that you can’t just request the time you want.. we’re working on it.

I’m debating on canceling my appointment with the psychologist. I don’t know what the point is. To tell me I have OCD? Okay. She doesn’t take my insurance and wasn’t able to say how many appointments I’d have (to determine the cost).. it feels confusing. My last appointment with my therapist was 3 (?) weeks ago. I’m not even sure if I’m going back to her. She said I can request an appointment whenever I want, but blah. I don’t want to pay 1000+ to be evaluated by the psychologist and then end up not going back to therapy.

The end.

[deejadabbles]

The House of Anubis (Atem X Reader Halloween Special)

Part One: The Manor

One //// Two //// Three (coming soon) ///

Summary: The house was large, a manor, really. Imposing, yet striking more aw with every turn of a corner. You had never thought you'd be dragged back into the family business, but your brother needed you, and so too did his latest project. It stood alone among the trees, yet, you never felt alone when inside. Hairs prickle on the back of the neck, shivers run down spines, and hands fidget with every unoccupied moment. And the thing- or rather, person, who simultaneously eases and worsens these feelings? Atem, a man who was just as mercurial as the house itself, all smirks and light comments one moment, then lingering stares and strange musings the next. So the real question remains, will you uncover the secrets both the man and the manor are harboring?(A Halloween mini-series inspired by the show 'The Haunting of Hill House' and the movie 'The Frighteners'. The Reader x Atem themes are, admittedly, light as this mostly focuses on a spooky haunted house story, but the romantic undertones are there. Gender-neutral reader.)

A. N. Just wanted to do a little something for a spooky season, I wanted to get this done before Halloween but that's probably not going to happen. So instead I'll post the first chapter now, hopefully have the next out on Halloween, and post the ending some time a week or two after. Hopefully you guys like this and if you want something scary that's already complete, please consider reading my yugioh themed CYOA 'House of Fears'

It felt like you were driving through a decrepit, long-forgotten tunnel, vines and weeds slipping through cracked concrete and lights that had died years ago neglecting to guide your path. At least, that’s what it felt like. You found yourself once again leaning forward to peer up through the windshield, trying to find any hint of sky between the heavy canopy of leaves. The forest on both sides was so thick, that you weren’t even sure what kind of woodland creatures could wander between the trunks. And how the branches had grown to make a choppy arch above the road, you had no clue. There was some sunlight at least, gracing the road with their bright rays here and there, but the enclosed effect of this road was still a bit unsettling.

You forced yourself to lean back in the driver's seat and let out a frustrated breath that was meant to calm itching nerves. Honestly, you didn’t even know why you felt a bit nervous. Maybe it was the isolation of not seeing another living thing on this tunnel-like road. Or, maybe the stresses of the past days were still settling.

It continued to haunt you a bit, the way your heart and breathing seemed to freeze the moment you heard a calm voice on the other end of the phone announce that they were a nurse at St. Florence Hospital...and that your brother had been brought in. The nerve-wracking way a thousand thoughts had raced through your head in that second-long pause in the nurse's words was haunting too: Was he in an accident? Did someone attack him? Did he cut off a finger working with that old sawzall you kept insisting he get rid of? ….was he alive?

You had even started tearing up with the frustrating thought that you were miles and miles away while your brother lay dying in some backwater hospital- when the nurse told you that he had suffered a heart attack, but had survived.

Apparently, as your brother had informed you a frantic phone call later, he was working on his latest project when, as unexpected as it sounded, he had experienced a horrible clenching around his heart. Just to pile on the horror of the situation, he had also been high atop a ladder when it happened, resulting in a broken leg and arm; one from getting caught between the ladder's steps as he fell, and the other from hitting the ground, respectively.

Thankfully, someone had been around to call an ambulance. Even still, he was lucky to be so young, because otherwise help still might not have gotten there in time.

Seriously though, a heart attack, at his age? Apparently it wasn’t unheard of, he was almost twelve years your senior, and you were already well into your 20s. Still, it was a worrying situation, especially with how severe the heart attack had been and the doctor had implored your brother to either go back to living in the house you and he sometimes shared, or have someone come out there and take care of him until he was better.

With those as his options and refusing to abandon his latest project, he had literally begged you to spend the next few months in the quiet town of Hartstown. You understood, even as you argued with him about his seemingly nonexistent self-preservation instincts. After all, he had told you all about this dream project of his, and how he had already sunk a lot of money into it, he couldn’t abandon it now. So here you were, in a town that had two restaurants but only one gas station, and driving through a forest so thick you were sure the sky could turn to nightfall without you even realizing it.

Your brother had sent you pictures about the hundred-year-old manor, gushing in texts about how he was going to make it beautiful again, then turn around and sell it to some rich yuppy who wanted a lavish country getaway. It really was a beautiful place, years of neglect not doing much to tarnish its splendor or the possibilities you could see in it. Then again, you had always appreciated old houses, you and your big brother had grown up in numerous ones.

Your parents had made their living flipping houses, especially restoring old ones to their original glory and big brother slipped into the business with ease, genuinely finding it to be his own passion. That made things easier after the accident, in a way, he had taken on their legacy with pride. You had tried too, for a while, years of helping your parents giving you most of the experience you needed, but you just didn’t take to it the way he did. He understood, and handled the family business on his own while you pursued your own wants and dreams.

Still, your history with the business made this decision much easier. The day you arrived in Hartstown, thoroughly scolded your brother for his poor health, and announced your plan, he had insisted that you didn’t have to do this, that the house could wait until he was better, and that he hadn’t dragged you out there to pull you back into the family business. You had waved off the insistence with ease; it wasn’t like you actually planned to spend all of the coming months just driving him to physical therapy and keeping his airbnb clean.

You had spent the first week here by your brother's side almost constantly. Apparently, the first week or two was the typical window of danger where other complications would make themselves known. But, now that that window was passing and you personally saw how well your brother was already doing, it was time to get to work.

You frowned down at the directions he had given you; surely you hadn't already passed the old street sign reading 'longhorn drive', right? No, you were far too attentive for that, desperate to get off this road and looking for your escape. The map app on your phone was useless, cell service being spotty at best on this road, as he had warned you.

At least when you made this turn it was only one mile until you got to this infamous manor.

Ah! There at last, you saw the oldest road sign you had ever seen, nailed to a wooden post at the corner of a turn that went into a road even more narrow than the one you were on. At least the trees seem to thin out a bit here, hopefully it would make you feel less trapped in the last leg of the drive.

It did, especially as the trees continued to get thinner and more spacious, the sun shining on the road like a guide. With that, the drive didn’t take long at all and before you knew it you were coming up on the iron gates you’d seen in your brother’s many pictures. They were open of course, the EMTs having other priorities as they rushed him out of the house, so you didn’t bother slowing down much as you made the turn. The gates were in good shape, one of the few things that wouldn’t need replacing and the wrought iron fence accompanying it wasn’t far behind in condition. The dirt driveway was narrow and weed-infested and you made a mental note to ask if some stylish cobble stone was in your brother's budget. There were more trees, tall ones that only let you catch glimpse of the house at first, but soon enough the dirt path ended, and the house crept into view on your left.

Pictures didn’t do it justice. It was a true mansion, made of stone, three stories high with turrets on the front corners, a wide oak front door, and spacious grounds on all sides. It’s style was rather unique, almost combining gothic elements such as many tall arching windows and at least two verandas and balconies, with craftsman style roofs and the first floor sitting high above the ground. It had been built in the 1920s, but apparently, the architect liked the styles of decades prior.

The faded wooden sign beside the grand front steps read: The House of Anubis.

Anubis, the Ancient Egyptian god of death and the afterlife if you remembered right. You felt silly for it, but the name made you a bit uneasy- who would basically say their house was a gate to the afterlife? The Egyptian references did make sense though, the manor was built by an archeologist and professor who made it big during that hayday of excavations and exhibitions.

Eager to get started, despite the odd name of the place, you parked the car, killed the engine, and climbed out onto the still tall and weedy grass. The steps were those old narrow kind that made one feel unsteady, and that feeling wasn’t helped by the fact that they had several splits and cracks in them, even pulling apart where the oldest fractures lay. At least the stairs themselves weren’t anything special, shouldn’t be that costly to replace.

You were tempted to walk along the veranda first, taking in the golden and white tiles and worn down furniture that had only recently been set back into place. You could picture it now: sitting on the wicker loveseat, tea or coffee in one hand and book in another, occasionally lifting your gaze from the pages to stare out at the garden or forest without a care, feeling the cool breeze cross over your face just enough to soothe but shielded enough not to be bothered.

You shook your head, chucking at your own day dream, you really should just head inside first, there’d be time to wander later.

The front door was at least closed, but again, the EMTs wouldn’t have exactly been concerned with locking it on their way out, so you didn’t even have to use the key big brother gave you. The door creaked in a loud croone when you pushed it open and before you was an entry hall unlike any you had seen before. You almost did a double-take, wondering if ‘The House of Anubis’ had transported you to a pharaoh’s tomb. The walls were a bright pale color, almost like sandstone but with a more golden tint, and portraits of Egyptian people and hieroglyphs wrapped around the room. The wallpaper wasn’t too busy or cluttered though, the depictions of people spreading out just enough so one’s eyes wouldn’t be overwhelmed when looking at them. There were two pillars beside the grand staircase and more ancient patterns were painted on them. Some chairs, tables, and even a sofa sat along the walls, again in that style befitting a king’s resting place.

How had none of this been stolen or vandalized over the years? Your brother had told you that the manor was fairly well known in town, even though no one had lived in it for over ten years. Surely bored teenagers would have come knocking, it was odd to find any furnishings at all in houses such as these, but especially not ones in such good condition.

You had to shake off that uneasy feeling again, deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth and moving on. Though, only after you shut and locked the front door behind you, finding yourself just a bit paranoid now.

After allowing yourself a moment to study the beautiful depictions of what you knew must be a goddess on the wall, you moved on to the tall pocket doors standing open on the left. This would be the drawing or receiving room and, as you had expected, you saw that big brother had set up his base of operations here. His workbench and draft table sat in the center or the large room, tools and even some lumber scattered about. As you approached the draft table you took note that this room followed a more Victorian look instead of the Egyptian tomb style: rosy wallpaper, a beautiful fireplace framed in dark wood, and a thick but faded rug spanning most of the hardwood floor.

The floorplans for the house were laid out on the table, pinned together with a clear sheet of plastic between each floor. As usual, the plastic was there so your brother could mark and note areas that needed repairs without damaging the actual floor plans. Currently the plans for the first floor were lifted, hanging off the table and opening the second floor plans for viewing. He had checkmarks beside a few of the notes, the repairs that had needed his attention first like plumbing issues and checking for mold. It was the same for the other two floors, as you saw when you flipped the pages; big brother had been busy in the six weeks he’d owned the place.

After scanning the blueprints thoroughly enough that you felt comfortable wandering through the house, you stepped back, deciding to check on some of those repairs he’d already made. Before you left the room, though, you almost tripped on a familiar device: his old boombox. Of course, he never worked on a house without it and you couldn’t deny the comfort of having music play while you worked. He even had his massive CD case propped up beside it, but you took a chance with whatever disk was already in there and pressed play before heading out of the room.

Some 80’s pop music echoed off the old walls as you wandered into the next area, the conservatory. Again you were left in shock with how well-intact the room was, only have two panes in its all-glass wall broken and your jaw actually dropped at the plants bursting to life around you. Most were likely weeds by now, but you still appreciated the timeless beauty, which was only accompanied by some more wicker chairs, delicate tables, and two statues sitting in the far corners. One was of a goddess, Isis, if you had to take a guess, and her companion was a god, maybe Ra, both made of onyx colored stone and painted with gold and turquoise that must have once been bright and shining. You would definitely have to map out how to return the status to their original glory once more urgent repairs were made.

Unfortunately the conservatory was only a bridge to your destination, as the double glass doors on the other side of the room led to the study. This was a room made of dark woods and moody red wallpaper. Mahogany desks and leather chairs would be right at home here, if it wasn’t for the fact that some animals had found their way in and made nests. You nodded in approval at big brother’s work, almost no sign of the nests remaining besides some scratch marks on the wood floor and walls that could be sanded down and covered at a later date. The door had also been replaced, it’s shattered panes the reason why animals had found their way inside in the first place. You were just making to cross the room to the next door- when a sound clattered not an inch away!

You choked back a gasp, then scolded yourself a second later. No, not a clatter, just your ring tone.

Shaking your head, you took your phone out of your pocket and answered it. “Please don’t tell me you’ve broken something else?” you said in place of a greeting.

“Oooh you’re so funny,” mocked the familiar voice on the other end, “Just taking my hour rest so my heart doesn’t give out, thought I’d check in on you. You got to the house okay right?”

“Yup, though that one road with the thick-ass trees went on for forever. You sure there’s not a faster route here?”

“Nope. As it is those roads are mostly just used by farmers going into town, we’re lucky it’s as direct to the house as it is.” Your brother paused for a moment before saying, “So, what do you think? Pictures don’t do it justice, right?”

“Definitely, this tomb robber really knew how to build a house, some rich history enthusiast is going to love it once we’re done.”

“I still wish you would have waited 'til I could come with you, I wanted to see the look of awe and wonder on your face,” he said with a sigh that was far too dramatic for the topic.

“Dude, they’re having you do an hour of physical therapy for each injury you managed to collect. I am not sitting around doing nothing for three hours three times a week.”

Honestly, it still shocked you how much they were putting on your brother’s recovery, when your uncle had had his heart attack, they only made him attend hour-long sessions of physical therapy. Maybe they expected more out of a younger specimen.

“Besides, with the chair they gave you it’d be really hard to get you into the house, at least until I can set up a temp ramp,” you pressed on, thinking of the large, clunky, motorized thing he was having to get by in, hopefully when his arm healed up he could switch to an easier wheelchair or maybe even crutches.

“Yeah yeah, call me an inconvenience, I see how you are,” he mocked, “So what are you doing now?”

“Oh, you know, just checking out the rooms.”

“….You’re looking over my work to see if I screwed up, aren’t you?” he accused, a disbelieving incredulity coloring his tone.

“No! I’m just seeing what’s been done, that’s all!” you answered, voice higher than you wanted it to be.

“Yeah right,” he mocked back and promptly blew a raspberry into the phone like a proper, mature adult. Someone in the distance on his end called out and he pulled away from the receiver to answer, then, “Alright, kiddo, I got to go, more breathing treatments and a test to run. Call you when I’m done.”

After a goodbye from your end, you hung up the phone, slipped it back into your pocket, and finally finished your short walk to the other side of the study. You turned the crystal-like knob of the old door opening into the library, the next room of the house most likely to impress you. Impress it did, with its two stories of built-in bookshelves, rail-guided ladder, cozy fireplace, and spiral staircase leading up to the second floor.

Unfortunately, what drew your attention more than the grandeur of the space, was the fact that there was blood on the hardwood floor.

Oh, this must have been where he had his heart attack. The tall metal ladder that had fallen near the dried smear of blood supported the theory. With a breath to calm yourself, you approached the spot, trying to assure yourself that the stain was smaller than it first looked. Besides, your brother was fine. Banged up and grumpy from lack of work, but fine, the blood meant nothing now.

With a sigh you started turning the work ladder back upright, noting the scuff marks on the floor where it must have been when he fell. After matching the legs with the marks, you looked up, trying to figure out what he had been working on. This was the only stretch of wall besides the fireplace where there weren’t any bookshelves. Instead a tall window stood there, allowing sunlight to peek in, shining directly on the fireplace, both to aid anyone cozied up in the room to read, but also to prevent sun damage from getting to the bookshelves. It took a minute to spot, but in one of the middle panes, there was a hole and spider-web cracks in the glass, he must have been trying to patch the hole with a temporary cover.

You made a note to get on that yourself after you cleaned up the blood, and began turning away, but something else caught your eye.

You squinted, peering up at the flowery wallpaper beside the window. There, just a hand-span from the broken window pane...were those tears in the wall-

“Hello.”

You let out a yell that bordered on a scream, clutching your heart as you spun around at the deep voice.

A man, a young man, stood leaning against the fireplace, taking in your startled terror with a raised brow. When had he..?!

“Where did you come from?” you demanded between still thundering heartbeats. “Who are you?”

Something flickered in the stranger’s violet eyes, “Apologies, I did not mean to scare you.” He shrugged off of the fireplace, tucking his hands into the pockets of his dark pants. “My name is Atem, and you are?”

Now that your heart was finally starting to settle, you straightened a bit before giving him your name. “How did you get in here?” was the next question on your lips, the words still a bit snippy.

He paused a moment, eyes narrowing just a bit, as if your verbal approach greatly intrigued him. “The front door was open. Again, I apologize, I suppose I got too used to coming in of my own accord while your brother has been here.”

“You know my brother?”

He closed his eyes with his short nod, “Yes. In Fact, I’ve been worried about him. When I saw your car I was hoping you would tell me...is he alright?” The stranger- Atem, flicked his gaze to the bloodstain, something darkening in his eyes. “I was the one who called for help, but I haven’t heard any news of his health. I was worried.”

You didn’t answer, not right away. You thought about just pressing on with your questions but, the look in Atem’s eyes, the way his brows pulled down low, really did say that he was being truthful about his worry. Besides, wasn’t it nearly impossible to get word from the hospital unless you were related to the patient? Made sense that he hadn’t heard any news.

“He’s a bit beaten up, but alive. He’s actually doing pretty well considering how bad his injuries were,” you answered eventually, and were satisfied when Atem’s expression visibly softened at the news, relieved. “He said he was lucky that a friend started making the habit of dropping by the house to keep him company, I guess you’re that friend,” you hesitated again, somehow finding it impossible to let go of that last thread of suspicion you felt around this man. Still, you managed an honest, “Thank you. You saved his life, doctors said that even being as young as he is, he still might not have made it if they got here any later.”

Something shifted in Atem’s eyes again, something dark casting over them and he only held your gaze a moment before his eyes drifted up to the top of the ladder where you had been staring. “I only wish I could have gotten here before it happened.”

An odd statement, you thought, your brother would have had the heart attack regardless of someone being there. Well, maybe Atem just meant he wished he’d been here to see the signs of the attack before it caused the dummy to fall off that damn ladder.

Atem blinked then, as if remembering himself. He straightened and looked back at you with a small, polite smile. “I’m glad he’s alright though. Are you here to take over the manor’s renovations? Or, are you taking him home to recuperate? He tells me that you and he share a home when he’s not working on his latest project.”

You gave a dramatic sigh, “We do, it was the house our parents left for us, but he hardly ever stays there. And unfortunately I couldn’t convince him to recover there so, your first assumption is correct. Between keeping an eye on him, I’ll be taking over all of this-” you waved your hands to encompass the room and the house beyond, “-until he gets better.”

You noted how the friendly smile slowly slipped from Atem’s lips as you answered, and now he was almost frowning even as he nodded. “He has an almost admirable dedication to this house. At least he isn’t insisting on working himself just yet.”

“He has a dedication to every house he works on,” you said, almost absentminded and when Atem’s brow lifted in yet another silent question, you shook your head to clear your thoughts. “He’s just like that with every place he buys. Our parents taught us to see the hidden beauty in all houses, and how restoring them was a kind of...I don’t know, a kindness?- That’s not the right word. They used to say houses could love a resident just as much as the resident can love a house, and how, if it’s fallen apart or been abandoned, it withers like a plant without sunlight. Renovating it- restoring it, is like breathing life back into it, so it can properly love its next resident.”

The moment the small lament was out you found yourself flushing, especially at the way the corner of Atem’s lips quirked up and his eyes softened a bit.

You cleared your throat, “Sorry, just...I haven’t worked on a house with him in a long time. Brings back memories.”

“I understand,” Atem said, the other corner of his mouth lifting to another light smile. “You both get the same look in your eyes when you talk about homes like this. It’s quite lovely.”

The heat in your face flared up even more, and you cleared your throat again before turning, looking at the library at large. “Anyway I uh- better continue my tour of the house,” you took a step towards the door opposite the one you’d entered, then, “you can walk with me, if you want.”

The offer surprised you a bit, despite having said it. Much like the oddness of Atem’s sudden appearance, the mix of feelings you felt around him was a bit baffling. You still felt a slight uneasiness, one you hadn’t been able to shake completely since he first startled you. Despite that, however, you didn’t feel particularly endangered by him. Quite the opposite, to create an odd, almost giddy cocktail of emotions, the unease mixed with a slight need to keep the man in your presence, get to know him, work out the curious nature he seemed to exude.

“I would like that,” Atem replied simply, and took a few steps to join your side.

Together you two walked to the second of the three doors in the library, and this opened into a hallway of sorts. If you remembered the floor plans right, the door on your left was a closet, and a bathroom was on the other side of the wall on your right.

“So, you said you saw my car outside Odd, what with all the trees surrounding the house, do you live nearby?” you asked, not bothering to hide your feelings airing on the side of suspicion. Hey, just because your wariness was overshadowed by your curiosity didn’t mean you were pushing everything aside altogether.

He didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he smirked at you as you two turned the corner on your right. “I often take walks in the woods and I saw your car through the trees. Several houses were built in the woods near the manor, so staff who worked here would have the option to live closer to the house and not have to travel from town.”

That made sense, despite the gothic appearance the manor was built in a time when having servants was falling out of style and becoming less commonplace, even among the wealthy. The professor who built the house might have had a cook and housekeeper, maybe even a butler, but not anything so fancy as to need live-in help. You could see the modest little houses in your mind now, but somehow, the idea of Atem cloistered up in one didn’t seem to fit quite right.

“So those houses aren’t part of the estate?” you asked as you two entered a longer, more narrow hallway; an open doorway on the left, and the hall stretching onward to your right.

“Not anymore. The second man to inherit the house, professor Arthur Hawkins, sold them. I think he did not want the hassle of upkeeping the rental properties.”

Choosing the doorway on your left, you entered the kitchen, a big, open room with white tile walls and gray floors. “You seem to know quite a bit about the house and its history,” you couldn’t help but look over at him, again making your suspicion and interest apparent.

“I guess you could say I’m a bit of a local historian. I’ve lived here a long time.”

Again, his choice in words struck you. I mean, the man looked no more than a year or two older than you, if that. Maybe he was just one of those old souls who liked to put on the air of being mature and more experienced than they were.

Deciding not to comment on it, you took some time to survey the kitchen. It was an impressive thing, plenty of countertops and an old oven fit for making extravagant christmas dinners. According to your brother's notes there was a bad leak in here that he had taken care of first and foremost, and the evidence of that was in the hole in the wall, exposing a new length of pipe and recently axed wood. That would probably be the first thing you patched up, something more simple to jump back into the family game.

“So, tell me more about the family history of the place. I know it was built by an archeologist in the 20’s, but that’s about it,” you asked as you turned around, heading for the swinging door that led into the dining room.

“Well, there isn’t much to tell. The house was built by Professor Alexander Hawkins, a man who made his wealth plundering the sands of Egypt.” The bitterness in his tone made you pause, but he continued on, “He built it with the intentions of keeping his family happy while he was away on digs, but, unfortunately, he and his wife died only twenty or so years later. Their son, Arthur, followed in his footsteps in some ways, taking an interest in Ancient Egypt.”

“Not surprising, considering he grew up in a house like this,” you added, noting the replica busts of a queen and pharaoh sitting on the mantel that looked better suited for a Cairo exhibit than a dining room.

Atem gave a nod, “Fortunately he was a bit more virtuous than his father, and made his living through more honest means. He too passed, and left the manor to his granddaughter, Rebbeca.”

Rebbeca, the woman who had sold the place to your brother. It was a story you had heard often; family home slowly losing its grandeur through the generations, until it finally passed to someone who just didn’t make enough money to afford a place so extravagant. Still, the fact that the house was still in such good condition continued to surprise you, especially given how much stuff was still here. Almost always the house was stripped of anything that was worth a dime before it was sold. Yet the granddaughter hadn’t even bothered to take the lovely dining table that sported carvings of eagles, hounds, cats, and other animals revered by the ancient Egyptians.

It was a small dining room, given the rest of the house, just big enough to fit the usual family of four and maybe a few guests. Beyond it, passed another set of pocket doors, was a lounge. Some more replicas of pharaonic treasures sat on tables and mantels, but the thing that caught your eye most were the once lavish settees and chairs, as well as the paintings hanging on the walls. They weren’t in the typical ancient Egyptian art style, rather the softer, more vibrant kind seen in the victorian era. All were depicting scenes of life that might have happened in those ancient cities forgotten in the sand; a diverse market bustling with eager shoppers looking at pottery and the work of weavers, a barge on the Nile river with women dancing on the deck and a couple kissing as they tipped their toes into the water, a pharaoh’s throne room filled with beautiful women and bowing courtiers all in awe by the king’s commanding presence atop his throne.

Not even these, the granddaughter had not even taken these? Odd, very odd.

“I thought these would catch your eye, they seem to catch everyone’s eyes.”

You jumped a bit at the sudden closeness of the voice, realizing Atem was leaning in almost near enough to brush your arm. How had you not sensed him coming closer?

He was looking over the painting of the Pharaoh’s court as he continued, “They are not particularly accurate, the colors and style of the clothes, the lightness of their skin, even the architecture is off. Still, I suppose they’re interesting to gaze at.”

“An Egyptologist yourself, are you?” you teased, even nudging him in the shoulder.

His smirk was back again, “I suppose you could say that.”

You couldn’t get too distracted, you didn’t have a lot of time left before you had to grab big brother from his therapy sessions. You would leave the inspection of the tower rooms for another day, and instead headed through the other set of pocket doors back into the entry hall.

“I should be going,” Atem began before you could make your way towards the grand staircase. “Thank you for easing my worry, I’m glad your brother is alright. It was a pleasure to meet you and... if you will allow me, I’d like to visit from time to time while you work, as I did with him.”

“That’s fine by me,” the agreement came easily to you, without a second thought. Despite his odd demeanor, you found Atem to be quite an easy person to get along with, his company should help keep this house from feeling too large and lonely.

At your reply, Atem’s expression shifted yet again, something close to interest or maybe even slight delight played in his eyes as they searched your face. “In that case, I will see you soon.”

His gaze lingered for another few heartbeats, long enough that you found yourself flushing again. You nodded your quick agreement before turning towards the stairs. A moment later you heard a soft click near the front door, but you actually paused when you didn’t hear a second. Looking over your shoulder, you found that the door was still slightly ajar. Little jerk, you’d have to remember to scold him for not closing the door properly the next time you saw him.

You only got halfway through your tour of the second floor before your phone when off, a reminder to start heading back to the clinic to pick up your brother. The clinic wasn’t in the little town closest to the house, rather a bigger town over half an hour away, but still close enough to justify you working while he was at his session. He was all eager to see you, despite how drained he looked from the exhaustion of physical therapy, and the moment he was packed into your car he was asking your options on the house.

You told him honestly how impressed you were with it, also voicing how odd it was that the place hadn’t been vandalized or stolen from given all the things left there.

“Yeah, took me awhile to get over that too,” he said from the passenger seat, fiddling with his phone in an effort to get directions to the pizza place he promised you dinner from. “I think the locals don’t give the house enough mystery to make teens interested in visiting it. Besides, there're several houses near the property, so maybe most assumed they couldn’t get away with breaking in- oh turn right at the next light.”

You did as instructed, then, “Speaking of that, who was the guy who called the ambulance for you that night?” You couldn’t help asking, you just needed to add a bit more credibility to your new friend before you relaxed around him more.

Your brother’s eyes went a bit wide, “Shit, I forgot all about Atem! I was going to ask you to find his place and tell him I’m alive. Dude’s probably been traumatized, finding me bleeding and heaving on the floor, I feel like such an ass now.”

“Well don’t worry,” you said, feeling satisfied now that you confirmed Atem’s claims, “he dropped by the house while I was there and I told him you were okay.” You found yourself biting your tongue on the words, considered for a moment, then spoke them anyway. “Something was a bit odd though, he just waltzed right into the house like he owned the place. I was looking over the library and he was just standing there, no knocking, no nothing.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw your brother scratching the back of his head, “Yeah, he kind of does that. I get the feeling he’s sort of appointed himself as the unofficial caretaker of the house, he showed up the first day I started working on it, guess I just got used to the way he just walks in, figured if he intended to steal from the place he would have done it already.” His protective mode must have been activated after he thought for a moment, because he was suddenly dropping that easy demeanor and looking you over with his brows drawn together, “He didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything, did he? I can have a talk with him if he did.”

Again you found yourself biting your tongue, thinking for a beat before answering. “No, not really, just startled me a bit. Not used to strangers just walking in, you know?”

He nodded, easing back in his seat again, “Yeah, I get you. Atem’s a good guy though, never gets underfoot when you're working, but great to talk to. He’s a bit weird, but cool.”

“Right…”

The conversation trailed off into silence, and for some reason, even after you pulled into the pizza joint and sat staring at a parmesan shaker after you ordered, your mind kept drifting back to the strange man at the manor one way or another.

A.N. So, what do you guys think about our mysterious Atem? How about the odd house itself? Any ideas on what's going on that or how this haunted adventure might heat up? Let me know your thoughts in the comments <3

#atem x reader #yami x reader #yugioh #Yu-Gi-Oh #yu-gi-oh reader insert #ygo #Atem #yami yugi #series: the house of anubis

[thetriggeredhappy]

Okay so that last one with scout losing snipes broke my heart into a zillion pieces so... What if sniper never died? Maybe he was badly hurt and is hiding somewhere... -🐑

i really like how you people keep doing this thing where you’re like “hey what if you ripped my whole heart out and stomped on it” then i do because you literally asked and you're all “owie :( ouch owie :( can i have a band-aid now” like it’s funny every time

(warnings for mention of firearms and discussion of severe life-threatening injury)

-

His contract expired.

Somewhere along the line—wonder when?—apparently his work had gotten ‘sloppy’. He’d gotten ‘erratic’. So six years after what all happened, when his contract was up to be renewed, Miss Pauling gently urged him to let it expire and to just head home.

It wasn’t like he had a good reason not to. He didn’t particularly get along with any of the team (anymore). A few of them had come and gone—Pyro apparently got reassigned somewhere and was gone overnight, and at some point Demo decided to leave mercenary work altogether to get a real, proper, legally sound job somewhere. Both of them had been replaced.

Their new Sniper wasn’t as polite as—

She was even more of a recluse, although she got along alright with Heavy sometimes. She was also Russian, which probably helped. And Scout felt a little bad about how much he hated her. She couldn’t help what happened. It wasn’t her fault. She was just picking up the baton on this job. Someone had to do it.

Mostly he just ended up avoiding her. And everyone else.

Exactly once he’d tried to take up dating again. Someone had gotten particularly sweet when he was out at a bar, and they’d flirted for a little while, then they’d suggested they both head somewhere else, and that they had a car if he wanted to—

He quietly stammered his way through a refusal. The vague guilt and unease reached a head the second he thought about getting in a car.

He’d needed to sell his car and get a motorcycle instead, at some point. The idea of getting in a vehicle had become an irrational fear, after he’d seen a picture of the wreckage, smelled the acrid smoke on the salvaged belongings.

That was one reason he took a plane home and had all his stuff shipped separately.

That meant that it was a few days of wearing only his old clothes when he got back, waiting for the rest to show up. And those were a little hard to squeeze into, he’d really been a lanky fuck before he became a mercenary.

The only thing he had at home that fit right was the suit, left there hanging in his closet to get eaten by moths.

The suit and the boxes of things were all shoved into the far side of his closet, and they stayed that way. He felt like maybe he wouldn’t ever be ready to look at them again, and in the meantime, they just made him feel guilty.

For the first two months after he got off work, he didn’t really do much. He stayed home, stayed out of trouble. Put his things away, sorted through what he wanted to keep and what he could just get rid of, either selling it or scrapping it if it was just kinda garbage. He tried to catch up with his brothers a little bit, the ones left in Boston still, but he didn’t get very far, feeling weird and disconnected.

After two months, he finally felt bad about Ma constantly tip-toeing around the topic of employment or hobbies (not that he needed to worry about those—he had enough money saved to not worry about much of anything until he was like, eighty), and he started trying to look for work, or maybe just something to keep him busy. For a month or so he looked into becoming a bartender, but the hours were a little weird. He thought about trying to get into doing baseball on some professional level, but he was getting a little old to be going into it for the first time since his late teens and early twenties. He very briefly looked into doing the cartoons for the newspaper—he was pretty good at art by then—before he found out they would require some amount of actual schooling for it.

So he ended up latching onto that, and started heading to the library five or six days a week to spend a few hours there studying to get his GED. His Ma supported him wholeheartedly on it, and got around to telling him, about a month into his new routine, that she was really glad he found something to do, something he wanted, that he’d just seemed so miserable, before, waiting around for something to happen.

Maybe she was right. He was waiting around for something to happen. He got the speech from Miss P—“ten years following your departure from the team, you and anyone nearby you will be kept in the system, and if there’s anyone who tries to bring you harm we’ll catch them before they can, and here’s a phone number to call if anything suspicious happens that you want looked into”. To him, that meant “someone might try and kill you”. So he did stay strapped when he went places, looked over his shoulder, kept an eye on doors and other potential exits.

So when he got back from the library one day and saw a car parked out in front of the house, at least he was prepared.

He thought fast. Kept driving past the house and parked a little ways down the block—he could drive the bike back later, it didn’t matter. He unlocked the door as quietly as he could, pushed it open with his shoulder, pistol drawn and cocked, falling back into old habits maybe a little too easily considering he hadn’t been a mercenary for almost a year and a half.

Voices from the living room—not from the TV, and not Ma on the phone, because he could also hear the TV, and there was a commercial playing that he recognized, one that didn’t involve Ma and a second, much deeper voice.

He steadied his hands, rolled his shoulders, and stepped into the room, leveling his gun directly at the head of the person within.

First he took stock of the fact that Ma was indeed there, sitting on the couch, looking relatively relaxed and entirely unharmed, if surprised to see him there and also with a gun. Then he took stock of the room, saw that there was only one other person here, the one he was pointing a gun at, the one who had slowly raised his hands up to either side of his head. Potentially unarmed, it was hard to tell with his baggy jacket—

Wait a minute.

Scout frowned, squinted, looking over his face a little more closely as realization started creeping into view.

He tried to imagine, for a second. What exactly would seven years do to a guy?

Maybe he’d end up with his hair growing out a lot longer, from close-cut to hanging down around his ears. Maybe with a beard, relatively clean but still a bit messy in some ways. Maybe he’d get new clothes, his eyes would sink a little bit more, would start to crinkle at the corners. More freckles, more spots maybe. Aged, scarred. Maybe he’d be wearing glasses. Maybe, despite all of that, he wouldn’t look all that different at all.

“...’llo, Bilby,” Sniper said quietly, hopefully, voice rough, and maybe he meant to say more, but he didn’t get the chance, because Scout lowered his gun, marched three steps forward, and slapped him clear across the face.

It was a hefty slap. The smack noise was practically ringing, and his hand stung like a bitch, and he’d hit him hard enough to knock his glasses off to clatter across the floor, and his head snapped back at the force of it, and the noise he made was satisfyingly pained.

“Right. Probably deserve that,” he croaked, and maybe he meant to say more, but he didn’t get the chance, because Scout tucked back away his gun, grabbed Sniper by the sides of his head, and kissed him square on the mouth.

It was a hard kiss, hard enough that he got Sniper to do that thing where he made an undignified little squeaky noise of surprise, caught off guard by it. He only melted forward for a second or two before Scout was pulling back away again.

“You fucking piece of shit son of a bitch cunt I’m gonna fucking kill you,” Scout practically snarled.

“Jeremy,” his Ma admonished from the couch.

“He’s right,” Sniper said weakly.

“I’m gonna kill you,” Scout insisted, just as fiercely. “What the fuck happened to you?!”

“There was a—“ Sniper started explaining, but Scout cut him off.

“Car bomb between 2:45 and 2:50 PM twenty minutes away from the nearest city limits,” he listed off, “I know that, but what—seven fucking years, Snipes!”

“I know,” Sniper said, voice flimsy. “First two years were recovery and physical therapy, next four were trying to get legal papers and apply for a visa to get back into the States again.”

“That bad?” Scout asked, still angry but faltering.

“Needed reconstructive surgery on... most of the left side of my body. Lost some teeth,” he said, and tugged his lip back on one side to show him where three teeth, the three behind the canines, were a slightly different color, then dropped his hand again. “Plenty of scars. Might be, er... missing a lot of those freckles you liked. And... voice comes and goes sometimes. But, Australian miracle medicine, I’m much better than I was.”

“You grew your hair out,” Scout noted next, carding his hands up through it.

Sniper laughed. “Lost half my teeth and needed a new coat of paint on the whole left of me, and you’re worried about my hair?” he chided.

“It’s just new, thought you hated it getting long,” Scout shrugged.

“Y’know,” his Ma said, sounding all too amused by the proceedings, approaching with Sniper’s glasses and handing them over to him, “you’re lucky you showed me those pictures all those years ago, Jeremy. Otherwise, strange guy shows up at our door askin’ about your work name and all, I would’a started blasting.”

She nodded meaningfully towards the table beside the couch, and Scout saw that indeed she had a gun there, taken from its place where he kept it stashed by the door as a “just in case”.

“Thanks, Ma,” he said, smiling a little.

“No problem, sweetheart,” she said, and patted him on the arm. She glanced between him and Sniper and scooped up the firearm from the table. “I’ll just go put this away,” she said, and left the two of them alone.

“Would’ve been easier to track you down if you’d given me more to go on than ‘southern Boston’,” Sniper said, eyebrows rising. “And if I didn’t need to be so careful about how I asked.”

“Huh?”

Sniper’s expression fell a little, and he raised his hand to fix his hair where Scout had mussed it up. “Look, you know the rules. Employer keeps an eye out for us for years after we leave. That means if I asked through my usual methods of tracking people down, that’d send up flashing red lights somewhere. So I... needed to take extra precautions.”

“Miss P told me they took care of the guys that tried to kill you,” Scout said, frowning.

“I went off radar for almost two years without official leave,” Sniper murmured. “And it wasn’t on purpose, but I don’t think they’d believe that. They might try and kill me if they find out I’m still alive. I’m a loose end.”

Scout’s heart dropped.

“Only cut it close once,” Sniper said, gaze falling. “But that was enough for Miss Pauling to get in contact with me, to try to talk to me. I... I told her I’m done, I’m out of mercenary work, and... just as a precaution I have to do a few things now. Check in on the regular. I wear this,” he said, pushing his sleeve up to show off a bulky device on his wrist, bigger than a watch. “It’s tracker. Makes sure I’m only in the places I say I’m going. Had to get a visa by myself, get transportation by myself, and it cut my protection time in half so now I’ve had to hire on someone to guard my parents and keep them safe, but now she’ll keep it secret that I’m alive. They’ll stop looking for me in two years, and if by then I’m still playing by the rules, I’m free. Back to normal life.”

“She said it was okay that you be here?” Scout asked. “In the same city as me? She wasn’t worried about that?”

“Told her why I was coming here,” Sniper shrugged.

“And what’d you tell her?” Scout asked softly.

They looked at each other.

“I... didn’t want to assume,” Sniper said quietly, carefully, looking over his face. “That you’d... I, I understand if you’ve moved on. Seven years, declared dead—“

“I didn’t,” Scout said just as quietly.

Sniper gave a breathless little laugh, cupping his face. “Bilby, I told you to,” he tried.

“Well, so-rry,” Scout said next, throat a little tight, hands on his hips, “Mister—Mister Legally Dead. Sorry I didn’t jump into speed dating the second I got the news. What, you—you wanted me to have kids by now?”

“Wouldn’t blame you,” Sniper shrugged, and kissed him, and pulled back away. “But... I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Well I’m glad you’re glad,” Scout mumbled, and kissed him, and pulled back away. “So...?”

Sniper was smiling, wide and unashamed. “So one day at a time,” he said quietly. “We can talk about it more in a bit. First, mind if I use your phone?”

“Why?”

“Meant to call in to check with Pauling in—“ He glanced around to find the clock in the room. “—three minutes or so. And... I ought to tell her I’ve made progress. And... that we’re sorting out details. Might call you over to talk to her too.”

“Yeah, go ahead. Hallway by the kitchen,” Scout directed, and kissed him again, and again, and again, until Sniper urged him down and off before he was late calling in.

He found himself in the kitchen, looking out the window. Ma was unloading the dishwasher and humming. In the hallway, the sound of talking, long pauses, more talking.

“He seems nice,” Ma said quietly, and shot Scout a smile, and Scout smiled too.

“He was—is,” he corrected quickly, flinching a little bit.

“How you feelin’?” Ma asked.

Scout looked down, crossed his arms over himself. “Y’know how in movies there’s that bit people do, all “feels too good to be true” or whatever?”

“Uh huh.”

“Kinda the opposite. It feels... like him being gone wasn’t real. And now stuff is real again.”

“Like you woke up?”

“...Yeah. Yeah, exactly,” Scout confirmed.

“I could tell,” Ma admitted, and stretched to reach the cabinet to put things away once they were good and dry. “Been a zombie since you got back, seems like maybe you’ve been a zombie for a while.”

Scout moved over to help, taking the dishes that belonged in the higher shelves and starting to put those away. “Sheesh, was I seriously that obvious?”

“It was pretty bad.”

“...Is that, like... normal? Or... healthy?” Scout asked carefully.

Ma laughed. “Sweetheart, how should I know?”

“But you know, like, everything.”

Ma pinched him on the cheek at the compliment and he squawked a complaint, and she laughed.

“I don’t know if it’s healthy,” she finally replied. “And... maybe it’s not about whether it’s healthy. Maybe... it’s just one step. And, hey, it worked out, didn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, and smiled. “Yeah, it did.”

“Bilby,” Sniper called, leaning in to look through the door to the kitchen, phone cord visibly all stretched out. “Wants to talk to you.”

Miss Pauling ran through a brief check to make sure he was indeed Scout, then asked a series of questions. Whether he felt safe with being around Sniper on the regular. Whether Sniper would be staying with him on the regular, and the fact that instead of extending security to cover him, she’d need to just go more lax on Scout’s security to make sure Sniper wasn’t found out.

He was fine with that. All of that.

After the phone call, after a few more questions, he dragged Sniper upstairs and flung open the door to his closet, digging through the dusty old boxes with purpose. Then he was pulling out an item and shoving it directly into Sniper’s chest.

Sniper put his hat back on, and Scout couldn’t help but yank him down into another kiss at the wave of nostalgia and familiarity as Sniper nudged his glasses up and looked at him and asked if it was on crooked, the same way he’d said a hundred times before, a hundred years ago.

And, hopefully, he’d say it a billion more times, for a billion more years. Scout would make sure of it.

#sniperscout #speeding bullet #tf2 #team fortress 2 #shut up me #everybody talks #my fanfiction

[yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks]

Wow, I love unlocking trauma I forgot:

- my mum constantly threatening to commit suicide and telling me that it would be my fault

- my parents telling me all about how we couldn't afford our bills (even though we most definitely could) and how this was all my fault for being so selfish for constantly asking for new things (I didnt ask, they got them without asking and got mad if I wasnt grateful)

- one time I tried to goad my mum into stabbing me with a kitchen knife because I wanted to die so badly but didnt know how to do it myself...because I was about 6 at the time

- my mum grabbing my thighs in the car on the way home from swimming practice because I didnt do good enough...gripping them tightly enough that they were constantly bruised, scratched and bleeding

- my mum getting mad because I sprained my ankle so badly I couldn't walk...then made me tell people I tore the ligament (and deluded herself into thinking that this was what happened)...then took away my crutches after 3 days even though I could still barely walk

- whilst I did have my crutches I also had to walk home (about a mile and going uphill at some points) even though my mum was at home and had a working car, purely because she couldn't be bothered with the 5 minute drive to school to pick me up

- telling my mum about a minor argument I had with a friend and her responding by systematically going through each point of the argument and telling me exactly how it each part was my fault until I cried...then got mad at me for crying...I was 8...I never went to her with a problem again

- me being the one who had to clean out the cages of my brothers Guinea pigs...guinea pigs who I didnt choose, name or get to play with, only clean out and feed

- when I took paracetamol for a headache I was accused of being addicted to drugs...I was 11 and could barely reach the medicine cabinet without a stool

- when I took my dogs out for a half hour walk every night I was accused of being, and was punished for, using those walks to smoke, drink and take drugs...I was a 14 year old straight A student who to this day has never taken drugs, smoked a cigarette and dislikes drinking

- when I was doing my first lot of exams my mum used to beat me in the kitchen when I didnt understand course content...to this day she still berates me for not 'trying hard enough' even though I only got a single B grade in all my exams in a subject I couldn't understand...she still takes full credit for this success though

- it was during this time that I began to self harm...I would gouge and scratch the back of my hand and my forearm and I still have scars

- when I found out I had a skin condition that meant I was literally allergic to water (after I had been getting out of swim training for months in tears because I was in so much pain) I was told that i had to suck it up and my mum (who was a coach) refused to let me leave sessions early even though I was in pain to the extent that I would be swimming and sobbing at the same time

- my mum getting drunk at a musical and loudly talling throughout the whole thing...she got mad when I tried to hush her and i ended up crying the whole way home

- I'm only allowed to tell my family one 'fact' a day, and I'm constantly mocked for knowing these weird facts that nobody cares about

- my parents having huge arguments that lasted for days and that my brother and I were forced to pick sides in...both parents telling us that the other was an abusive piece of shit with mental problems

- me telling my dad that I was scared to be left alone in the house with my mum...he told her this and I got beaten even worse the next day...I was 5 or 6

- not being allowed to close the door to my room until last year...and even then, only when I was getting changed

- not being allowed to stay upstairs or in my room for any extended period of time...I always had to be with my parents who constantly mocked and berated me

- being banned from books and television for weeks at a time and if I was found reading anything during that time then the book would be destroyed and thrown away...as someone who possibly has ADHD and autism being forced to sit completely still, not talking and not allowed to do anything was torture

- my parents making me think I lost my phone when in reality they just took it...they beat me and told me off for 'losing' my phone for 2 months before they finally gave it back

- almost developing an eating disorder when I was 13 and still a size 4 (in UK sizing which is a size 0 in the US) because my mum told me I was getting fat and I still have body dysmorphia because of this

- my mum getting mad at me and not speaking to me for days because I was at a family function (with my dads side of the family who dont like her) and didnt text her often enough because I was busy playing with my cousins

Theres so much more that I cant remember but holy shit I need so much therapy when I move out and can finally get it without worrying about my parents reaction.

#trauma #child abuse #toxic parents #toxic family #toxic mom #narcissistic mom #raised by narcissists #abuse

[spaceskam]

why don’t we loosen up and dance a bit?

finally! the final day of my 12 (actually 13) days of gifts is here! This is a step up au for @lire-casander and i hope it makes up for the long ass wait :)

warning: implied child abuse, but there’s no details at all

ao3

“I don’t even know what to say.”

“How about, ‘I forgive you?”

Mimi DeLuca stared Michael down with eyes that could kill. He sunk into his chair and bowed his head, preparing for whatever punishment she wanted to throw on him.

“I just… I don’t understand what your thought process was. I mean, that’s your sister’s school you just decided to trash,” Mimi said, laughing hollowly as she threw her arms out. Michael felt a new feeling build inside him. It actually hurt that Mimi was disappointed in him. It was extremely new. He didn’t like it. 

“She’s not my sister,” Michael snapped instead of letting the feeling fester. Mimi scoffed, her hands landing on her hips.

“You have been here for ten months, Michael Guerin. That means she’s your sister and I’m your mother. Maybe not by blood or to you, but under the law and in my mind, you are,” Mimi said. Michael would’ve smiled if he wasn’t being lectured. “Tell me, is there something going on? Do you need more attention? Therapy? Are you being bullied? Pressured? Talk to me, tell me. We can fix whatever it is.”

Michael gulped and suddenly wished it was something like that. The real answer was stupid and pathetic.

“I don’t know,” Michael admitted, “I did it because it was there.”

Mimi sighed and dropped her head in her hands. Michael watched her and held his breath. She didn’t look up for a long time.

“Are you gonna call my social worker?” Michael asked softly. Mimi’s head shot up and almost looked offended.

“No, absolutely not. This is your home, you aren’t going anywhere,” Mimi said firmly, “I’m going to take you to your court date and we are going to hope they let you off easy. Just like I would do for Maria.” Michael’s heart thudded wildly in his chest. It felt like favoritism even if it was really just being equal for once. “And, like Maria, you’re grounded for a month.”

“A month?!” he asked but he was smiling.

“A month. Now go to your room,” she scolded but she was smiling.

“Ugh, this is so not fair!”

“Life isn’t fair!”

Michael went to his own bedroom and laid in his own bed and decided that he would try really hard not to make her disappointed again.

-

Community service. That was his sentence.

“I can’t believe they assigned you to clean up my school. I’m suing,” Maria scoffed. Michael rolled his eyes and leaned in her doorway. She was putting on makeup before school and Michael was waiting to take her. He’d dropped out of school when he was 16 and started working. That was before he’d met Mimi‒now he was homeschooled.

Which gave him enough time to do his community service. Yay.

“Listen, if anyone asks, you’re not my brother,” Maria said. Michael huffed a laugh.

“I’m not your brother.”

Maria paused and then looked at him for a moment. “I mean, but you are though. But at school, you’re not because I don’t want people saying shit about me because we’re related.”

“We’re not related!” 

“Shut up!”

A smile pulled at his lips as Maria flipped him off. He would never admit it to her face, but he loved these moments. He loved the way they just accepted him as apart of the family. He loved the way he could fuck up and they would still keep him. He didn’t, however, enjoy that stupid part of his brain that told him to fuck up. He knew better, but he found it hard to contain himself. It was something he had to work on.

“Can you drive me?” Michael asked as he followed her to the kitchen. She looked over her shoulder and raised her eyebrow. 

"How am I supposed to lie about you being my brother if you're, like, in my car?" Maria asked. He did his best pouting face and made his eyes all big. She still didn't buy it. He groaned. 

"I'll do your chores for the entire length of my community service." 

Maria paused. "Done.”

-

Ark Kingdom School of the Arts looked a lot bigger and a lot fancier during the day. It made Michael feel a lot worse about the fact he’d trashed it.

“It’s huge,” Michael scoffed. Maria looked at him and gave a sarcastic smile.

“Yeah. Now go, run along,” she said.

“Fuck you,” he laughed.

“Ew, pass,” she said before heading off towards one of the four massive buildings. Michael shook his head with a laugh and began making his way towards the front office. There, he would get his lame uniform and begin his fun janitorial duties. For free. 

The jumpsuit they gave him fit poorly and was certainly not his color, but he had no choice. Instead, he spent his day following a lovely old man who didn’t like to talk about anything that didn’t involve explaining to Michael in excruciating detail how he wanted things cleaned. Which, in his defense, this was the cleanest school Michael had ever seen.

He was making his way through each building slowly. Apparently, Monday was deep clean bathrooms day, Tuesday was deep clean the dance building, Wednesday was deep clean the music building, Thursday was deep clean the art building, and Friday was deep clean the theatre building. Or, at least for him it was. They were on rotation with the other janitors to make sure every building and all bathrooms got meticulously cleaned. The joys of private school or something.

On his lunch break, he decided to wander about the dance building and see if he could find Maria. Not that he wanted to talk to her, but he thought he could fuck with her from across the room to pass the time. He peered through the windows of the doors of all the classrooms and, for the most part, dance studios to see if he could see her.

Eventually, he saw her. She was talking to a boy who was stretching his obscenely muscular calves and laughing while he did it. Michael was entranced almost immediately. He had long, shaggy black hair that reached his shoulders and Michael got to watch as he raked it back into a bun at the nape of his neck. He decided right then that he was extremely angry at Maria for never introducing them.

Michael had known he was bisexual from a very young age, long before he had a word for it. He liked boys and he liked girls and he liked everyone in between and otherwise. People were pretty and he was supremely bad at hiding it. It was the main reason he was still being bounced around foster homes at sixteen. But now he found a nice home with a nice family or a family who pretended to be nice because what nice sister would hide such a beautiful man from him? That was just rude.

Well, he would just have to introduce himself.

Michael let himself into the room, strolling across the floor and straight up to Maria. They were both in leotards and tights and both looked all professional and ready to go and they both turned their attention onto him when he walked up.

“Maria, let me use your phone to call Mimi,” he said, not even trying to hide the fact that his phone was visible in his pocket. Maria scoffed and the boy gave him a once over, smirking softly. 

“So this must be the guy who trashed the school and set me back a whole week of training in a proper studio,” the guy said. Michael flashed his most charming smile.

“Michael,” he introduced. The guy looked at him and then let out a laugh.

“Sorry, I don’t affiliate myself with criminals,” he said, walking away. Michael couldn’t find it in himself to be offended and he just whistled at the low blow, watching him walk away. In the middle of admiring the fine dancer’s ass, he received a hard hit to the back of his shoulder. 

“What did I say?!” Maria hissed, her face scrunched up in an admittedly hilarious face. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed, still looking over at the boy who was now bent over completely. It was a very heavenly sight. “I was just trying to figure out why you didn’t introduce me to someone like him.”

“Like him? Like who? Alex?” she asked, disgust taking over her face, “No. Do not look at Alex, stop it.”

“So his name’s Alex?” Michael asked, biting down on his lip. He watched Alex slowly slide into a split and stretch a little more. “Fuck me. Is he into dudes?”

“If he is, I would not tell you! Get back to work!” Maria scolded, shoving him towards the door.

“Give him my number, will you?”

“Go to work!”

Michael did not. He instead spent his lunch break watching the two of them dance. He didn’t really have words for what they were doing, all he knew was that it was impressive. They moved around each other and with each other effortless, bodies in sync. It was clear that they were close and it was hard to figure out why he hadn’t noticed him before. He was stunning and talented and clearly friends with his foster sister. And Michael wanted to know him.

After school ended and Michael was just waiting for Maria to get out of class so they could leave, he ended up actually seeing Alex walking towards his own car. He couldn’t stop himself as he walked up to him. He was just too good to be true physically and Michael was eager to see if that extended to other parts of him as well.

“Hey!” he called, jogging up to him. Alex sighed and gave him a condescending smile that Michael loved. “Hey, I saw you dancing earlier. You are incredible.”

“Yeah, that’s why I go here,” Alex said. Michael licked his lips and smirked.

“You think I might be able to get a private show?” he asked. Alex’s jaw dropped slightly and he scoffed, shaking his head. Michael watched as his grip tightened on his backpack and took a step back. Maybe he was too forward.

“Didn’t you hear me earlier when I said I don’t affiliate with criminals? You literally almost ruined my chances for my competition by putting me out a week of proper practice space because you thought it was fun to destroy the studio,” Alex told him. Michael’s smirk dropped completely. “I don’t know why you think you’re hot shit, but you’re not. There is nothing cool about property damage. The fact that you don’t have to pay for it is bullshit and I really think it’s bullshit that they let you come on campus. And I don’t put up with guys like you who have no respect for anything. Bye-bye, now.”

Alex gave a little wave and then swiftly turned on his toes, walking towards his car. Michael sighed. So much for getting to know a guy that gorgeous. He probably was out of his league anyway. 

“I told you,” Maria said as she came out of nowhere. Michael rolled his eyes. “No, but, really. Alex doesn’t do well with the whole flirting thing. Or relationship thing. He’s got a one-track mind and that’s to be successful enough to get out of this place.”

“This place?” Michael asked.

“Yeah. He wants to go to New York,” Maria answered as they walked towards the car, “Wants to be a professional dancer and get the fuck out of Roswell.”

“That sounds like a very uptight way to live,” Michael admitted. Maria just smiled at him and shook her head.

“Let him be uptight.”

That night, Michael laid in bed and thought about just how Alex had said he was disrespectful. He couldn’t figure out why it was stuck in his mind, but it seemed to be linked with the disappointed look Mimi had given him and the way the judge had stared at him. Was he disrespectful? 

He supposed he didn’t really know. He didn’t see dancing or art or anything as that big of a deal. Sure, Alex was good at it and so was Maria, but was it even worth trying to make a career out of? Was it so serious that Alex would avoid people over it? Did he just not get it?

It bothered him. There was clearly something he wasn’t understanding.

Instead of sleeping that night, Michael spent hours researching different ballerinas. He read about tons and tons of people who had made a career out of their art. He’d read about people who seemed to live, eat, breathe dance. He saw videos of people who destroyed their feet and legs just to do what they loved to do. It seemed almost insulting to call it a talent when it really was just years and years of hard labor. It was serious. Missing a week of practice was serious. Missing anything was serious.

Michael was disrespectful.

-

“Hey! Wait up!”

“Oh my god, do you not know how to take no for an answer?”

Michael forced a sweet smile as Alex turned around. He was in baggy sweatpants today and they somehow looked just as good as the tights from the day before. He was just gorgeous. And, you know, hopefully into guys.

“Yeah, I do take no for an answer,” Michael said as nicely as he could, “And I didn’t like you telling me that I was disrespectful. I spent, like, all night learning everything I could about how hard it is to do what you do and… yeah, I was disrespectful. I’m sorry.”

Alex furrowed his eyebrows. “Okay? What, do you want a prize for having to do research for what should be common sense?”

“No, I’m just… admitting to my wrongs,” Michael said. Alex eyed him weirdly before nodding and waving curtly. Then he turned and disappeared into the building. Michael felt the desire to go after him again, but decided against it. Not only did he have to continue his community service, but he also knew this guy wasn’t his biggest fan. As hot as he was, he would need to keep his distance.

But they were cleaning the dance building all day.

Michael saw him in the halls and saw him looking some kind of gorgeous. His hair was down and messy and he had on a crop top that shouldn’t have looked as good as it did. Michael did his best not to look at him, not to stare, to let him be, but it was like some outside force kept throwing them in the same place. It was hard not to look.

The next few weeks went by just like that. Michael would see him and nod to him and admire him from afar. He’d watch Alex and Maria dance, slowly but surely memorizing the routine. He was growing a massive appreciation of both of them. They worked so hard. The appreciation seemed to make Alex warm up to him if only a little bit. It gave Michael another person that didn’t mind having him around.

Michael liked having people enjoy his presence.

“You guys should teach me how to do some of that,” Michael said to them as they caught their breath.

“Have you ever even danced before?” Alex asked. Michael smiled as he watched him dry his sweaty face with a towel. There were few things as hot as that man.

“I did, a little. Not like that. My old foster brother was a street dancer and he taught me a thing or two,” Michael mentioned. He’d actually taught Michael a bit more than just dancing, but that happened to be the main reason Michael had been taken out of the house. Sleeping with your foster siblings was a big no-no apparently.

“Okay, well, come over here,” Alex said. Maria rolled her eyes, but she held a hand out to him Michael grinned and walked over. “Alright, let’s try the basics. Put your feet like this.”

Michael stared down at their feet as they put their heels together and their toes pointed in opposite directions. He tried his best to copy them, but his feet weren’t nearly as straight as theirs. They both kicked his feet a little bit to try to make them straighter, but it didn’t really work.

“Okay, well that’s… kinda first position,” Maria laughed.

“Alright, and this is second position,” Alex said, spreading his legs a bit and raising his arms to his side.

“What the fuck is happening with your knees? Isn’t that bad?” Michael asked, listening to them both laugh.

“I mean, maybe, but ballet is all aesthetic,” Maria told him.

“That’s fucked.”

The two of them walked him through the five basic positions of ballet and found that he wasn’t actually half bad at doing them. Sure, they weren’t hard and he still struggled with a bit of footwork, but he wasn’t horrible at it. It was fun, actually.

It was the first time Michael realized he had friends.

-

Maria DeLuca fell in slow motion.

Michael saw it happen, watched as she tripped on the last step of the stairs over his bag and was helpless to actually try to help her. He heard her scream and she grabbed her ankle and she cried.

Fuck.

-

“What do you mean you sprained your ankle? Maria, the competition is in a month. This is important!”

Michael stood off to the side, averting his gaze as the two had a conversation. He felt sort of guilty. A lot guilty. It was his fault that she tripped and sprained her ankle. It was his fault that she was told to be on crutches for three weeks which left them both fucked for a competition that could get them scholarships.

“It’s not my fault, Alex.”

Alex tilted his head back and took a deep breath.

“I know, I know. I’m not trying to blame you, I just… I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” Alex groaned.

“I’m sorry. Maybe you could find someone else to rehearse with until I can get back on my feet?” 

“I can do it,” Michael said. They both turned to him.

“What?” Alex scoffed, “You don’t dance.”

“I dance a little. I know your routine. And we can work on it and tailor it a little bit,” Michael continued. He started walking towards them, slowly convincing himself that this was totally a good idea so that maybe Alex would agree.

“You don’t even go to school here, Michael,” Maria sighed.

“So? Doesn’t mean I can’t help,” he said, “Look, it’s my fault that you tripped and I feel horrible. Let me at least try to make it up to you? I promise I’ll give it my all.”

“You have community service still,” Alex said.

“I’ll be finished in two days. Gives me all that extra time to work with you,” Michael said with a smile that was intended to be charming. He didn’t know if it was. He was typically lost on what Alex Manes found charming.

Alex sighed and looked between the two of them, clearly torn. Michael saw the moment Alex realized he didn’t really have much of a choice. He had to at least try.

“Fine.”

Michael smiled big and bright.

-

“I feel like this is a bad idea.”

“You offered, suck it up.”

Michael nodded hesitantly and then took a deep breath for preparation. Alex gave him a small nod and then began to run. Michael braced himself and prepared to catch him after his graceful leap.

And then they both tumbled to the ground.

Michael winced as the wind was knocked out of him in an attempt to save Alex from slamming his face on the floor.

“Dude, you have to actually catch me,” Alex sighed.

“Why can’t you catch me? You catch Maria,” Michael argued. Alex rolled his eyes and pushed himself up to his feet. He held out his hand for Michael.

“Because I’m the one who can jump properly, you can’t,” Alex said, “You also have the muscle to catch me.”

Michael gave a wounded gasp, his hand touching his heart. “Are you calling me fat?”

Alex rolled his eyes. “I’m saying you look like you could carry me without struggling and I’m used to lifting women that barely weigh 100lbs.”

“Valid,” Michael said, grinning which just seemed to irk Alex even more, “Alright, let’s try again.”

It took almost eight tries before Michael actually was able to catch and lift him. Alex wasn’t that impressed.

“Finally, fuck,” Alex scoffed. Michael snorted and shook his head and didn’t say a word about the little smile that appeared on Alex’s face.

They spent hours practicing the simplest things. Or, somewhat simply. Michael picked up the less technical things extremely quick. Body movement came easy, his hips and his arms and his legs moved as he wanted. What he was bad at was looking graceful.

“Why don’t you show me what you can do and so I can gauge what I have to work with,” Alex said, leaning against the wall and waving him on. Michael stood there awkwardly now that he was put on the spot. “Go on.”

Alex put on some trashy trap music and then smiled, seemingly really proud of his lame assumption as to what Michael could dance to. Annoyingly, he wasn’t that wrong. 

It took a moment to stop feeling ridiculously uncomfortable, but he managed to do it. He blocked out the pressure and simply moved. He danced in ways he didn’t have words for. That was the thing, it seemed. Alex had words for every single move he did. Michael didn’t have that. He just moved with the way his body wanted him to. 

“It’s good, really, it’s just not classical.”

“I’m not classically trained,” Michael laughed. Alex rolled his eyes.

“I know, but… Look, your dancing is, like, heavy. Picture that you’re light as a feather or like you’re dancing on a cloud,” Alex tried. Michael looked at him like he’d fucking lost it. 

“A cloud? Your rich kid is showing.”

“No, look,” Alex scoffed, “Look at the difference. You spin like this.” Michael watched the very broad and admittedly heavy way he spun. His arms weren’t all poised, they were bent, and the spin itself was quick. It was all motivated by one swift push which was exactly how Michael had done it. “But it should look more like this.”

Once again, it was easy to become mesmerized by the way Alex moved. It was like he was born to do it with how effortless he made it look. But the fact was it wasn’t effortless. The way he could spin for minutes upon minutes and how all of his choices were refined. They all came with a purpose that Michael’s never did.

“Okay, so, if we’re pointing out nit-picks, I think your style is stiff,” Michael accused after the spell Alex put on him broke. Well, technically, it didn’t break. Alex had simply stopped dancing and so Mciahel’s brain started working a bit better. Now, he just looked extremely offended.

“Excuse me? Stiff? I am not stiff!”

“I mean, you kinda are. Even when you’re making fun of how heavy I move, it’s stiff. I’m loose,” Michael told him, smiling sweetly. Alex scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Says the man wearing jeans rather than the tights I gave him,” Alex shot back.

“It had a thong!”

“It’s called a dance belt!”

Alex put his hands to his forehead and walked in a circle. Michael watched him patiently, letting him think. He liked watching him think. He liked watching him do a lot of things. He even liked the tights‒just as long as they were on Alex and not him.

“Okay, okay,” Alex said, looking at him with a new look on his face. He let his long hair down and then tied it back again. Michael dreamed of a day he left it down all the time. “You learn to get light and wear the tights, and I’ll work on loosening up.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Why do I have to do two things?”

“Because it’s my routine.”

 With a slow nod, Michael surrendered. He already knew he would. Imagine telling someone that looks and acts like that no? 

“Sounds like a plan.”

-

“Wanna see something cool?”

“Is it my ass in those thong tights because I already looked at that.”

“Shut the fuck up and come on.”

Michael grinned as Alex unlocked the car door for him. Two weeks of practicing and slowly but surely they were meeting in the middle. In fact, they’d mashed something together that wasn’t quite hip-hip dancing, but wasn’t quite classical either. It was a mesh of something amazing, something theirs. He loved it.

He climbed into the passenger side of Alex’s car and let him drive out of the school parking lot.

The two of them hadn’t actually spent much time alone outside of the school and especially never without Maria, but the idea of it alone had Michael excited. He’d wanted him from the moment he saw him.

When they stopped at a red light, Alex let down and shook it out. It had a little wave to it from being up all day and he ran his hand through it to loosen it more.  Michael had to take a deep breath at the sight. He had to restrain himself from reaching out and touching.

“I like your hair like that,” Michael said.

“I don’t care what you like,” he said. Michael smiled at him.

The drive didn’t last too long, but it was a part of town Michael had actually never been. Granted, he’d been on a relatively tight leash since he got to Roswell since he had a pretty shitty track record when he came to the DeLuca household. But, even if he hadn’t, he probably wouldn’t have gone to the wooded area that Alex had brought him.

Alex got out first without a word and began heading towards the woods and Michael took a second to admire him. He had changed into a pair of form-fitting sweats and had on a loose crop top that showed a few inches of tan skin on his back. Michael almost died the first time he experienced touching that.

“Where the hell are we going?” Michael asked as he followed Alex into the trees.

“Somewhere cool.”

Alex walked the stone pathway with large strides and a skip in his step, his hair whipping around him in the most intoxicating way Michael had ever seen. It was hard not to stare. The only reason he stopped staring was because of the giant treehouse with a winding fucking staircase they ran up to.

“Holy shit,” Michael scoffed. Alex took the steps three at a time and disappeared inside the door before Michael could even start to climb. He raced just as fast.

Entering the room felt like entering a whole new world. It was very clearly old with the way the tree had begun to grow inside, but it looked like it was very well kempt otherwise. It wasn’t hard to realize that was Alex’s doing as he very comfortably landed on the massive bean bag chair in the middle of the room.

“What is this place?” Michael asked, slowly beginning to walk around the room. The more he walked, the more it felt like Alex. There was a massive empty space to the left of the bean bag bed and the tree limbs that had invaded the windows were groomed to be shelves. One had a cardigan draped over it and the other had a participation trophy with a ballerina on top. Behind the trophy was a certificate announcing that Alex Manes had danced his way to win a countywide competition at age 12.

“I found it when I was 14 and I started hiding out here when things got bad at home,” Alex answered. Michael looked over to him at the brutally honest admission, but Alex had eyes that didn’t give him space to inquire what exactly bad meant for him. “The lady who owns the property found out I was staying here and, instead of kicking me off her property, she made special windows that would fit around the limbs so I wouldn’t have to worry so much about animals at night.”

“That was nice,” Michael said, only now noticing that there were indeed windows. He wondered how she even made those.

“Yeah, she’s awesome. Our deal is that I get her groceries so she doesn’t have to go into town and I can stay here for free.”

“Wait, you live here?” Michael asked, eyes widening accidentally. Alex shrugged, shifting in the bean bag bed. It was hard to picture that someone like Alex could live in a place without running water. He always looked so nice. He went to a rich school for fuck’s sake.

“I couldn’t stay at home.”

“How do you go to AKSA then?” Michael asked, standing in the middle of the floor and staring at the boy in the bean bag. Alex leaned back slowly, his hair pooling around him as he looked up to Michael. It made Michael feel weird for some reason. 

“Scholarship.”

“Why’d you show me this?” Michael said a little softer. He didn’t understand why he was worthy of this information. He’d never been worthy of anything in his life.

“I bet you could use the competition as your audition,” Alex admitted. That caught Michael off guard. 

“Huh?”

And Alex just shrugged and patted the bean bag beside him. 

Michael complied and tried not to think about what he’d just said.

“Am I loose enough?” Alex asked as they settled into the bean bag. Truly, it was big enough that they didn’t have to touch. They could’ve easily been only opposite sides without a problem. Instead, they met in the middle. Michael wanted to kiss him more than he’d ever wanted to kiss anyone in his entire life. 

Typically, a thousand shitty things would flood his mind to make fun of him or flirt with him would come to his mind. He wanted to now. He wanted to make a joke. Instead, he whispered, “Yeah.”

Alex took a deep breath, his dark eyes flickering over Michael’s face. He was so close. So, so, so close. Michael clenched and unclenched his fists a million times as he tried to decide what was and was not okay when it came to Alex Manes. Fuck, he still had no idea if Alex was even into guys. He’d never said he was, but he never said he wasn’t and it sometimes seemed like he might be.

Before he could ask, cold fingertips pressed to his hip. Michael held his breath. He focused completely on the sensation of Alex slowly dragging his fingers over his side and up to his jaw. It wasn’t really anywhere Alex hadn’t touched before when they were dancing, but this was something else entirely and it was making him feel dizzy. Maybe the holding his breath part wasn’t really helping, but still.

“Is this okay?” Alex asked as the pads of his fingers fanned over Michael’s jaw. He finally breathed and it was horribly shaky. Which was bullshit. He’d kissed before‒done a lot more than kiss before‒but this seemed to have him fucked up ten times over.

It had everything to do with the way Alex welcomed him into his space. This was a fragile gift that Michael had to take care of. He was terrified.

“Yes.”

Slowly, Alex leaned in and kissed him. It was slow and shaky and short. When it ended, Alex took a deep breath and opened his eyes to make sure that it was still okay. Michael thought he was floating.

“I’ve never done that before,” Alex whispered. Michael rubbed his arm, holding him close and waiting for permission to kiss him again.

“Done what?”

“Kissed someone. Not for real, only… only in plays,” Alex admitted, gulping. His hand was still on Michael’s cheek and he seemed frozen just a few centimeters away from his lips. Typically that admission would scare the shit out of Michael and he would find an excuse to leave, but this time he couldn’t find the fear. Or not the fear of that. He was only scared that he’d ruin it.

“Do you wanna stop?” Michael wondered. He really hoped he wouldn’t want to, but he would if he wasn’t ready.

Alex didn’t give a verbal answer, only moving in and kissing him senseless. 

Michael stayed until well past dark.

-

“I hate dropping you off,” Alex all but whined as they decided to wrap up their rehearsal for the day, “I just wanna take you home with me.”

“You could always stay,” Michael said, fiddling with the ends of his hair that he’d been wearing down a lot more now, “They wouldn’t suspect a thing.” 

“Tempting, but no,” he hummed. Michael smiled and shook his head, leaning in for an all too chaste kiss. They had so many of those and Michael was overwhelmed with them sometimes. It seemed every other person he kissed was all with the intention to get them in bed within the next hour. With Alex, he still was scared to break it.

Two weeks. Two weeks of both dancing and making out with Alex Manes. It was the best two weeks of his entire life. They hadn’t told anyone for selfish reasons only, enjoying the ability to dance and dance and dance and then have it turn into something more without anyone suspecting anything.

It helped even more that they’d showed their dance to the Dean. If all went well, Michael would be starting the next semester as a new dance student of AKSA. He didn’t know he even wanted that until he was told he might be allowed to have it. Now all he could think about was what else Alex could make him realize he was allowed to have.

“You need better deodorant, your sweat smells like you took a shower in must,” Alex murmured against his lips. Michael scoffed.

“You’re such an ass.”

“I am not, I’m helping.”

“Helping? Helping?”

Alex’s laughter rang through the room as Michael’s fingers dug into his side, slowly bringing them both the floor as he tickled him. He didn’t stop until he was firmly on top of him and had replaced the tickling with kisses on his neck. Maybe Michael’s sweat was horrific, but Alex’s wasn’t. It was something borderline addictive. It was all too easy to drag his tongue over Alex’s damp collarbone and up his glistening throat.

“You’re disgusting,” Alex said, but it held a lot less venom than his insults usually did. The way he tightened his arms around Michael’s shoulders didn’t go unnoticed. “We-we should probably not do this here.”

“Seriously, sneak in tonight,” Michael whispered, “The showcase is soon and we won’t get to mess around as much.”

Alex shoved gently at his shoulders, though, and Michael took that as his cue to sit up. He stared up at him with those big dark eyes again.

“I can’t,” Alex said, shaking his head and sitting up, “I… I have to…”

“If you don’t want to spend the night with me, that’s fine. I won’t be angry,” Michael promised. It hurt a little bit, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew that was all on him.

“Okay, then I don’t want to spend the night with you. Not yet, at least,” Alex said and then his shoulders squared and that hardened look in his eye returned. It was the first time Michael noticed the transformation. He admired it. “I have a lot more important shit to focus on than whatever goes on in your mind and you know that.”

“I do.”

“Good. Don’t be late to practice tomorrow or you’re walking home,” Alex said as he stood to his feet. Michael smiled at him. He was perfect.

“Yes, sir.”

-

“I’m so excited!”

“Me too.”

Michael hovered in the doorway as he watched Maria and Alex talk after class. She was springing with joy that she was all better and could come back and get back to dancing. That morning, Michael had been happy for her. Now, watching her take Alex back made him realize that he’d jumped to quickly to celebrate.

Alex glanced over at him with that same blank look that Michael couldn’t read. Usually, he loved it. Right now, it was like being shot in the foot with his own gun.

“Alex,” Michael said as he made his way over to them. Maria looked over him like she had just put it together in that moment as well. Her getting her partner back meant fucking over Michael. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” 

Alex nodded and they stepped off to the side.

“So, what, you’re just going to go back to dancing with her?” Michael asked softly. Alex nodded again and lifted his arms to pull his hair back into the low bun. “But what about me trying to audition? Our routine was what was going to get me my in.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t just bail on her. She’s worked her ass off, she deserves to show off to the people that are coming,” Alex told him. Michael furrowed his eyebrows. He knew that. He knew that better than anyone, he lived with her. But still. Maria had a lot of things. This was Michael’s one thing. 

“Okay, but this was‒”

“I’m sorry,” Alex said again, “Maybe you can find another partner.”

“It sort of feels like your breaking up with me,” Michael said and when Alex didn’t respond, he scoffed, “Dude, what the fuck? You’re just going to cut ties with me because I can’t be a fancy dancer?”

“No, we’re just very different and I’ve realized that my career is more important than some guy,” Alex said simply. It was cold and hardened and Michael knew it was the mask. “My routine with Maria is what I’ve been working on for months before I spent a little time working with you. That’s what will help my career.”

“Okay, Alex,” Michael scoffed, shaking his head, “Okay. I thought we established you could be honest to my face and I won’t get mad.”

Alex stared at him for a moment. Michael waited for the painful truth.

“It’s easier if I don’t get attached to you,” Alex admitted softly. It was a lot less painful than Michael was expecting. 

“You say that like I’m not already attached to you,” Michael told him. Again, he stared. “Look, Alex, why can’t we‒”

“It’s a bad idea. This was a bad idea in the first place.”

“I thought you were loosening up.”

“Maybe I loosened too much.”

Michael nodded slowly and tried not to take it to heart. If this is what Alex wanted, then who was he to argue otherwise?

“Oka, whatever. I’ll see you around,” Michael said, huffing a laugh, “Actually, no. I won’t.”

He left the room and tried not to be too pissed. How silly of him to think he could have nice things.

-

“Mopey, mopey, mopey Mikey.”

Michael groaned into his pillow at the sound of Mimi’s voice. He knew he had been moping for the last week, but he couldn’t help it. He got a taste of something real, something better, and it was just snatched away from him because he wasn’t good enough. Again. 

“I’m not leaving until we talk,” Mimi insisted, her voice getting closer. His bed shifted as she sat beside him. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“Nothing,” Michael grumbled. 

“Yeah, okay, I don’t believe that,” Mimi said, “Can I hold your hand?” Michael grunted in response, but he would be lying if he said the motherly way she squeezed his hand didn’t make him feel better. “What’s wrong?”

After a minute of silence, Michael finally answered, “I had a chance to audition for Ark Kingdom and… now I can’t.”

Mimi tensed up and her heels tapped quietly on the floor, but she pushed away her excitement for him. Moments like that made him feel like the most loved man in the world. He shifted a little bit to look up at her.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I was dancing with Alex and, when Maria got better, he sort of just dropped me for her. And I know it’s stupid because it’s her school and it’s her dance, but I just… I don’t know, I liked feeling like I had potential for once,” he admitted. Mimi gave him a sad little smile and squeezed his hand tighter.

“You still have potential even without the school. You are so smart and apparently talented, not that you’ve ever shown me any dance moves,” she teased. He gave a small smile, but it didn’t last long. He was angry about the school and he was angry about losing a chance at something more, but he couldn’t help but feel sad about not being with Alex. He liked kissing him and he liked dancing with him and he liked being allowed in his safe place. He felt welcome.  Turns out he’d spent so much time scared he might fuck things up with Alex that he never even considered the fact that Alex might’ve done the fucking. “Oh wait, I know that look. Are you upset about the school or about the boy?”

Michael scrunched up his nose. “Both?”

Mimi rolled her eyes. “You know you can get one of those things back, don’t you?”

“I don’t think I can. He seemed pretty set on career first, fuck anyone else,” Michael explained. Mimi squeezed his hand again.

“How about this, come to their performance tonight. We can bring flowers for the both of them and maybe it’ll give you an excuse to talk to him,” she suggested. Michael groaned again. He really didn’t want to go. As much as he loved watching Alex dance, it just felt like torture to watch him. He wasn’t wanted anymore. “Come on.”

“That feels like torture.”

“Well, you’ve been in bed all week. You need to get up anyway, might as well try to win your boy back,” Mimi said. Michael still frowned. “Let’s go.”

“And if he rejects me?”

“Then he’s not worth it.”

Michael very reluctantly agreed, but only because he had no idea how to tell her that he was worth everything.

-

“He’s been just as miserable as you, you know?”

Michael ignored Maria as they drove. She had to be at the venue early, so they were leaving early and they would simply wait until showtime. Mimi and Maria sat up from and Michael sat in the back beside two bouquets of flowers.

“He misses you,” Maria continued. Michael stared out the window. Alex hadn’t once tried to talk to him, so it didn’t seem like she was telling the truth. If he missed him so much, where was he?

“Michael, I think you should go talk to him,” Mimi chimed in.

“I’ll figure it out when we get there. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t,” Michael grumbled. He didn’t have to look to know that both women rolled their eyes at him.

The idea of trying to make nice with Alex felt like a stupid, pointless thing to do. Alex was pretty dead set on wanting to focus on his career and not have to worry about boys. It was a valid thing, too. Michael couldn’t even fault him. Sure, it fucked him over, but that was just the name of the game.

Alex was gifted and a hard worker. Michael shouldn’t expect anything on par with that when he hadn’t even started striving for anything until he met Alex. 

Michael got out of the car after Maria and could feel her eyes on him. They had been on him for the last week. He knew she felt bad, but he also knew she had no reason to be. She had been dancing with Alex since the beginning of the school year. Michael just swooped in and stole him, so she had every right to take him back. Still, she seemed to be guilty.

“Michael,” she said, pulling him off the side as Mimi went to walk into the lobby, “I think you should go dance with him.” Michael furrowed his eyebrows.

“What?”

“I think you should go dance with Alex and try to get in,” she insisted, sincerity on her face. He shook his head.

“No, are you crazy? You’ve worked so hard for this, I’m not taking it from you,” he told her. She shrugged.

“My ankle is still sore, it’s not as good as it could be, I’ll just be holding him back,” Maria said, but he wasn’t sure how much truth that held.

“But your routine will help his career, that’s what they want to see.”

“Our routine is just that. A routine. What you guys came up with will get you both further,” she insisted. Michael simply stared at her and tried to find another way to say no. Not only was this not fair to her, but Alex also didn’t want to dance with him. He didn’t want to ruin both of their shots. “Listen, I’ll dance at the end of the year showcase, I’ll be fine. This is important for both of you.”

“Alex doesn’t want to dance with me,” Michael tried. Maria scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, he really does. Just go make him see that you’re serious about it,” she said, shoving his shoulder, “Break a leg. It’ll be great.”

“Why are you doing this for me?” Michael asked softly. Maria simply smiled.

“You’re my brother. I want what’s best for you.”

Michael’s throat tightened and grabbed her in a tight hug. Maybe he could have nice things.

-

“Alex! Alex, hey, wait!”

Alex looked more annoyed than ever as he turned around and Michael almost forgot what he was going to say. He was in a pair of black tights, a black form-fitting jacket-like shirt, and a pair of black ballet shoes. His hair was slicked back into a low bun like it always was, but his make-up was done up all nice and glittery. He looked like a vision.

“What do you want?” Alex asked with a sigh.

“I want to dance with you,” Michael said. Alex furrowed his eyebrows. “Please let me.”

“But Maria‒”

“She already said it was okay,” Michael insisted. Standing in front of Alex again and knowing that he had a chance had him nearly bouncing with desperation. He wanted to dance with him again. He wanted to touch him again. He wanted to feel important again. “Look, when we first met, you said I was disrespectful. And then I apologized, but I don’t think I knew just how disrespectful I really was until I started dancing with you. You showed me how much hard work went into it and how good it felt to succeed. You showed me that I could be something more, that I could, like, have respect and that it would mean something. I want it to mean something again.”

Alex shook his head, huffing a laugh. “Everyone here worked their ass off. You got lucky. Why should you get rewarded?” Michael smiled at him.

“Yeah, I did get lucky. I met you,” Michael said. Alex closed his eyes. “And I’m not saying anything has to go back to how it was or anything, I just want a chance to prove myself. I want to be someone better. I know you don’t want to get attached to me and I respect that, but please. Let me dance with you.”

“One condition,” Alex said softly. Michael smiled.

“Anything.”

“Go get your tights and your make-up on.”

Michael rolled his eyes, but agreed with a small, “Absolutely.”

By the time it got to their turn to perform, Michael was dressed up similarly to Alex. Black tights, black shirt, black ballet shoes, and his makeup was done just the same. As nervous as he was, he was all but bouncing to get on stage and do all the things he spent practicing with Alex. He wanted to impress everyone. He wanted to show them he wasn’t just a criminal.

They stood in the left wing and Alex grabbed his hand. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of it and all the nerves bled from his system.

“Don’t fuck this up,” Alex said in a low voice. Michael smiled and they made their way on stage.

Just like the first time, moving with Alex was natural. It didn’t feel like they’d missed a week of practice. It felt like this was what they were made to do. This was it. This was life.

Even if they had fucked up, Michael knew that Alex was intoxicating as he spun with his glittery face under the lights. He almost got lost in it, but not so lost that he didn’t catch him. They leaped, they spun, they became entwined. It was hard to deny anything.

The piece ended with them both on the floor, poised and posed and facing one another with heavy breaths. People cheered for them, but the only thing Michael could see was Alex. The lights faded and Michael helped him to his feet, exiting the stage before pulling him into a hug.

Surprisingly, Alex hugged back.

“I’m already attached,” Alex whispered to him. Michael hugged him tighter.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Oh my god! That was amazing!” Mimi squealed once they exited the green room. She and Maria were already waiting for them and, while Michael entirely expected that, Alex didn’t and he clung to Michael’s shoulder for a moment. 

“Thanks,” they both said.

“I knew I made the right choice,” Maria said, grinning very proudly at herself.

“You’re going to take credit for how well we did, aren’t you?” Michael asked.

“Absolutely.”

“I’m so proud of you!” Mimi said, stealing back the attention to shower them in more praise. She hugged them both tightly and it occurred to Michael that Alex probably wasn’t used to this level of love either. He gave him an encouraging smile. “I had no idea you could dance like that!”

“I learned from the best,” Michael grinned.

“We taught him so well,” Maria told her.

“Oh, shut up.”

“We need to go out to dinner to celebrate! Alex, can you come too, sweetie?” Mimi asked. Alex blinked and looked to Michael before nodding. “Awesome! Oh, this is‒”

“Mr. Guerin, may I have a word with you?” Everyone turned towards the voice to see the Dean standing there. With a squeeze to Alex’s hand, Michael nodded and stepped over to her.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I don’t want to keep you from your family,” she said, glancing over to the DeLucas. Family. He smiled. “But you have an appointment in my office Monday morning at 6 AM. Don’t be late and bring your transcripts.”

“Wait, so I got in?” he asked. She smiled.

“You really proved yourself up there. That took hard work.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” he gushed. She nodded and patted his shoulder before letting him go back to Maria, Mimi, and Alex.

“So?” Alex asked first, giving him one of the most genuine smiles Michael had ever seen him give in front of other people.

“I got in.”

In an instant, Alex was kissing him and then his family was hugging him and he was loved. He was lucky and he was loved.

He was going to be someone.

#my 12 days #malex #malex fic #malex au #michael guerin #michael guerin fic #alex manes #alex manes fic #roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico fic #rn #rnm #rnm fic #my fic

[dontshootmespence]

Yesterday I Was Clever,  Today I Am Wise

Summary: Bogged down by the memories of people hurt and cases unsolved, Spencer turns to dilaudid for a second time, leaving his wife distraught and with no other options than to offer an ultimatum - kick the drugs or lose her. Will he continue his downward spiral and lose it all?

Words: 2,199

Warnings: Drug addiction and withdrawals, marriage problems, suicidal ideations. 

A/N: My next entry for @cmbingo! This fulfills my reassignment square. This is a follow-up to How Did We End Up Here? It was one of my very first pieces and I never intended to do a sequel to it, but once @alisoncdariel went all hyper in my inbox and asked if I’d do a sequel, I checked my Bingo card and I thought this could really work! I hope you enjoy! <3

For weeks after Y/N walked out of the BAU, Spencer floated around the BAU, inhabiting it like a ghost - papers moved, the clacking of keyboard keys could be heard, reports were submitted and cases continued to get solved - but he wasn’t present, not really. 

Everyone knew. If it had gone under the radar at all the first time around, it hadn’t now. 

“Reid, can I see you in my office?” Hotch called, his head poking out from his office.

Spencer glanced up and nodded silently, placing his pen back into the cup that held it before going to see what his boss needed. When he walked in the room, he saw the entire team, minus Rossi, standing there and turned to walk out, but Morgan slammed the door before he could leave, glaring at him to shut up and listen. “We know, kid. We all know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t bullshit me,” Morgan snapped. His heart broke for his little brother, but it had to be done. “You’re not the only smart one here.”

Reluctantly, Spencer sat in the chair in front of Hotch’s desk and listened as they all cried. “You need help, Spence,” JJ said, sniffling. “You can’t keep going like this.”

“I’m fine. I can still do my job. I function.”

Hotch glared so hard Spencer could practically feel the holes being bored into his skull. “Barely. This isn’t an intervention, Reid. It’s an ultimatum.”

That caught his attention. “What are you talking about?”

“Either get help and get off the drugs or lose your job. We will be for you every step of the way if you need us and want our help, but I cannot let this go on.  I failed you once before. Not again.”

Vibrating with anger, Spencer stood up and felt the pull again, wanting nothing more than to bolt toward the door, drive home and shoot up until he couldn’t feel anymore. “So my wife leaves me, I have nothing and you threaten to take away the one thing that helps me live? Breathe? Forget all the bullshit we see? Fuck you all.”

He turned to leave and was stopped in his tracks when Hotch told him where Rossi was. “He’s in your apartment right now searching every nook and cranny of your apartment with other members of the Bureau that have been sworn to secrecy as a favor to me. There will be nothing there when you get back and whether you want our help or not one of us will be keeping you under surveillance at all times over the next couple of weeks.”

Spencer didn’t reply. He barely moved a muscle before looking toward Morgan, who still stood in front of the door. “Move.”

Grabbing his messenger bag on the way out of the office, Spencer sped into the elevator without another word. Maybe if he was lucky withdrawal symptoms would take him in the middle of the night.

                                                             ------

Walking out on Spencer had been the hardest thing you’d ever done, but something needed to change and he needed to be the one to change it; you couldn’t do it for him.

Some days you could go to and from work like any other day, acting as though you weren’t missing the love of your life with every fiber of your being, but other days the pain became unbearable. You should’ve come home and gotten a head start on the next day’s work, but instead you cried yourself to sleep, waking up hours later to the vibrating of your cellphone underneath your pillow.

“Hello?” You asked, voice croaking. 

You hadn’t even opened your eyes to see who was calling and then you heard his voice - raw and wounded. “Y/N? Please, I-”

“Spence, I can’t,” you replied, heart sinking into your chest like a black hole. “Things can’t go on like this. I have to go, I-”

“Please!?” He begged into the phone. “I’m not asking you to come back to me. Not yet anyway. I’m-” His voice cut off and you heard him stifle a grunt of pain. “The team raided my apartment. They took everything I had and it’s been 26 hours. The pain is-” Each word he spoke wavered more and more, pain overtaking his body until you heard him collapse to the floor of the home you’d once shared. “I just need to see you...until the pain subsides. Please...I know what I’ve put you through and that I don’t deserve this, but I need you.”

“I won’t bring you drugs.”

“I’m not asking you too. Just, please.” Maybe this was the kick in the ass he’d needed. But you weren’t going to get too hopeful just yet.

“I’ll be right there.”

Morgan had been sitting in his car watching Spencer’s apartment to make sure he didn’t try and go out to buy any replacement drugs. With a silent thank you, you rushed up the stairs and opened the door to see your apartment destroyed. Somehow, his drugs had gone missing. Once this was over you’d ask him what happened, but he’d come home to look for his secret stashes and found nothing. 

You found him in the bathtub fully clothed under ice cold water. “Spence...”

Crouching down, you pressed a hand to the side of his face and he opened his eyes. “Y/N...thank you.”

There wasn't much you could do for him. Apparently, he’d been using again for a while at an even higher dose than he’d used before. The drugs had to work their way out of his system. 

You called into work and took off claiming a family emergency. For the next six days, you cleaned his sweat-soaked laundry, prepared cold compresses, cooked whatever food he could eat and held him as the shakes took over. 

When he could speak without searing pain, he attempted to apologize, to beg you to come back, but it wasn’t that easy. He’d kicked the drugs for the second time and that was a start, but they weren’t the main problem. “It’s what lead you to take the drugs, Spence. Our lack of communication. The pain you see firsthand every day. Your inability to let me be my own person and make my own choices to bear those burdens with you. I’m not saying our marriage isn’t able to be saved. I still love you to the moon and back, but our relationship needs more than just a bandaid.”

Solemnly, he nodded, fresh tears falling from his lashes like stars in the sky. “I understand. But-but we can still try, right? As long as I’m willing to put in the work?”

“Absolutely. I’m willing if you are.”

                                                            ------

In the ensuing weeks, Spencer had to earn back Y/N’s trust little by little. As much as he hated to admit that the drugs had wormed their way back into his life for a second time, they had, and they weren’t responsible for his downward spiral - at least not wholly. 

Day after day, he went to NA meetings, vowing to go to at least one a week for the rest of his life no matter how clean he felt. It was a promise to no one but himself. With each passing day, he got stronger and stronger, feeling mentally and physically better than he had in years. 

“How are you feeling today?” Y/N asked, pressing a kiss to his lips as he walked in the door. They still weren’t living together again yet. They’d been apart for three months, but they talked or visited at least once a day and things finally felt like they were on the upswing again. “Better and better. Therapy is helping too.”

“I knew it would,” she whispered, blissfully resting her head against his chest. “We can start going as a couple too if that helps.”

Hesitating, Spencer kissed the top of her head. “Possibly yeah. I actually wanted to discuss what we’ve been talking about for the past few weeks.”

“Okay...” she said with a hint of uncertainty. “You sure?”

“Yes. Um, I told him that I didn’t want to burden you with what I see every day because it’s so personal and up close, and he understood that. With what we see every day, to pass that onto someone else almost feels negligent-”

“Spence, you have to-”

“Let me finish,” he pleaded. “I realize that I need to talk about these things with you and going forward, when things come back to me and I feel like I can’t handle them I’ll do that, but that doesn’t mean I need continue doing what I do.”

Eyes widening, Y/N leaned back against the kitchen counter. “You want to quit the BAU?”

“I don’t want to. I love making a different and I love the people I work with, but I can’t do it anymore and I think it’s okay for me to admit that. I was actually talking with him about reassignment within the Bureau - something that still made me feel like I’m helping people without being so ‘on the front lines’ so to speak. Maybe counterintelligence or counter terrorism, utilizing my profiling to go over reports and decipher where and when and how attacks might take place. It would be less fieldwork, which means I’d be further removed from the horror of it all, you know? Plus I’d be home more. We could start the family we always wanted and if I really wanted to I could consult for the BAU on occasion.”

It all made sense and she loved the idea of him being home. Before his downward spiral, they’d dreamt of starting a family, but she had to make sure. “You’ve been doing this for so long. It’s been a part of who you are. If you stop, do you think you could come to resent me? Like I made you choose between me and the BAU?”

“You didn’t. You aren’t. I love what I do, but I love you more. And my time at the BAU would still be an integral part of who I am. I’d just be allowing myself to grow, while taking care of myself and ensuring that I never leave you with the images running around in my head.”

With a subtle smile, Y/N tilted her head up and kissed Spencer’s chin. He sounded confident. He sounded like he knew what he wanted and how to get there. He was so much more comfortable in his own skin now. “If you think this is what’s best for you and our relationship, then I’m with you. I still think we should go to some couple’s therapy though. While you adjust to whatever new position you have?”

“That makes sense. I just know I need a change. Not because I don’t like what I do but because I need to take care of myself and it’s too much for me now. It reminds me of a quote for the 13th-century Persian poet, Rumi.”

Y/N giggled softly into his chest. In his downward spiral, he’d lost his love of info-dumping, which was one of the things she’d always loved about him. “What is it?”

“Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.”

                                                           ------

Shortly after they spoke about reassignment, Spencer went over his options with Hotch and the rest of the team, who were all totally on board with his decision so long as they got together once a week for dinner. “And you text me at least three times a week, Boy Wonder,” Penelope had added.

Counterterrorism was more than happy to take him on; his reputation preceded him. Analyzing reports had him doing a lot of what he had been doing with the BAU, just more removed from the field than his former work. There was a slightly different kind of pressure on him - the lives of thousands or millions on his mind rather than one - but it didn’t affect him as much as working with individuals had. 

While he adjusted to his new position, he and Y/N attended therapy once a week to discuss old traumas he’d endured and how they could both handle it going forward.

Reassignment wasn’t an easy decision, but it was the right one.

“Hey, baby,” Y/N greeted as Spencer walked in the door just in time for dinner. With his new job, came a tighter schedule. He was home for dinner nearly every night. “How was work?”

“Still getting used to things, but my brain is still working and I’m still helping people, so I feel okay. I just have to get used to not working with my friends every day more than anything.”

“That’ll come with time,” she replied. “Maybe we can have them over for dinner next week as long as they don’t have a case?”

“I’d love that.” Spencer crossed the space between them and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and taking a moment to appreciate the smell of her shampoo and the softness of her skin. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not giving up on me, on us.”

#cmbingo19 #cmbingo #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #dontshootmespence #how did we end up here #yesterday I was clever today I am wise

[internallydeceased]

Begin Again - (Chapter V)

And So We Meet Again Oxford, England

Previously…

At that moment her pager went off, announcing that she was needed elsewhere. She looked at it and frowned, returning her attention back to Jamie

“Well, that’s my cue. If I don’t see you before you’re discharged, just know that it was a pleasure to meet you, and I wish you the best of luck.” 

Before Jamie even had the chance to respond, she was gone. 

*** September 22nd, 1977

One year ago today, his life changed drastically. In the year since then, so much had happened and he wasn’t even there for four of those months—not really.  

It’s surprising how fast the human body deteriorates when it isn’t able to move or eat or drink. The only sustenance he could get was through a GI tube, and you could hardly call that food. 

By the time he woke up, he didn’t recognize himself, and his family had a hard time coming to terms with his appearance even though they’d sat by his bedside for months. 

He’d been discharged as an inpatient five months ago, but was back at the hospital more times than he could count for his physical therapy sessions. 

52 weeks, 365 days, 525600 minutes since he had broken practically every part of him, and yet it seemed like no time at all. Yet at the same time, it felt like forever. 

You know how time seems to go slower when you’re anticipating something? You’re constantly looking at the clock and it seems like it’s been five minutes since you last looked at it but when you check it again it’s really only been one? 

For five months Jamie’s life was a lot like that. Working to get back to the man he was, but in the back of his mind there was a little voice saying ‘what for?’ 

It took only three months for his body to deteriorate to what looked like a skeleton, but it would take a lot more than three months to get it all back.

In five months, he no longer looked like a dead man walking- at least, but he was still thin. 

Everything had healed rather nicely— though there were plenty of scars that would stay with him for the rest of his life, reminding him of that day and every day since. All but his hand. 

His hand was the reason why he needed the physical therapy. It had been badly damaged in the accident and while the surgeons were able to put the bones back in place—a rod here and there —and sew the skin back together, he couldn’t use it himself for three months, so doctors had to flex it for him—that set them back a bit. 

He’d made a lot of progress since he woke up, but his hand still pained him, but it was his heart that hurt the most. 

Five months ago Claire said goodbye to him, in case she didn’t see him before he got discharged. He’d been discharged less than an hour after she’d gone, and he hadn’t seen her since. 

He didn’t think anything of it at the time, he would be back at the hospital enough times in the coming year that surely he’d see her again. 

Except he hadn’t, and he never got the chance to say goodbye. Besides, he didn’t want to say goodbye, he wanted to say hello. 

***

He’d decided to take another year off before returning to school, not wanting to do too much all at once. 

He’d only just gotten the go ahead to go back to work, and he was happy about that. At least he could stay out of his head for a little while. 

Jamie worked as a stable hand at a local barn that offered equine therapy and beginner lessons to kids who wanted to learn how to ride. 

There had been a fair share of horses and other animals at Lallybroch, but the horses were always his favorite. Jamie loved to ride, even to just be around them. 

When he moved to Oxford he thought that he’d have to get a part-time job as an office clerk or something of the sort, but it was a stroke of luck that he’d found this place. 

After he’d gotten settled into his small apartment—at least somewhat—he drove around the city and even further into the rural outskirts. 

He had no destination and the smallest sense of direction, he just wanted to drive through the countryside and breathe in the fresh country air. 

It wasn’t Scotland, but it did remind him of home.

He’d taken a turn at some point, and as he drove further down the road he saw it. 

A rather nice looking barn with lush green pastures, and lots of horses grazing against the setting sun beyond the horizon. It all looked like some expensive painting that belonged in a museum. 

It put a smile on his face, and so he decided to check it out. 

Everything looked very high class and relatively new, Jamie figured it to be some prestigious stable full of snobby rich girls who thought they were better than everyone else because they could ride and do dressage. 

But as he made his way through the grounds, he was pleasantly surprised to see that wasn’t it at all. 

He came upon a small outdoor arena, just off of the main barn. He noticed the grey gelding first, head low and content, listening to the silent cues of the rider. 

The rider looked to be a child around the age of twelve, and the smile on the boy’s face reminded Jamie of the feeling of utter joy he felt when he first sat a horse.

He only noticed the older woman after she had spoken to the child, encouraging him and making sure he was comfortable. 

After a few minutes they concluded their lesson, and the boy’s father came from the other side of the arena to help the boy down off the horse.

Only then had Jamie noticed that the boy couldn’t walk, as his father carried the boy outside the arena to a wheelchair he hadn’t noticed before. 

He’d heard of equine therapy, but had never actually seen it. 

That place represented a new start for him; after so much loss and hardship back home, this was a turn for the better, and something Jamie sorely needed. 

He needed it even more now. 

***

Jenny decided to stay with her brother in his small apartment so he wouldn’t have to be alone. She figured it would only be for a few months at most, to help him get reacquainted with daily life, but Jamie was quiet and restless, and it became clear that she wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. 

But today; today could be the first step that would finally give Jamie a path back to the brother she knew. 

***

Jenny drove him out to the barn a little before noon, glancing at her brother hoping to see a piece of the man she knew, the smallest hint of a smile, anything that she would recognize. But he just leaned against the passenger door with his head resting on the window, staring as the world outside passed them by. 

She pulled into the gravel driveway of the stable a few minutes later and shifted the car into park. Jenny took a deep breath and turned to Jamie. “Well, we’re here. Please call me if you need anything. Anything at all—I mean it, Jamie.” 

Jamie was already stepping outside the vehicle when she grabbed his hand, forcing him to look at her. 

“Hey... have a good day.” She gave him a small smile, and was grateful to see the slight nod and small smile he gave in return. 

***

Jamie shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, retreating into it like a turtle in its shell. 

He stopped just in front of the white wooden sign, breathing in the crisp autumn air and tracing the familiar cursive letters with his hand: Equine Healing.

“James Fraser!” the older woman: a middle-aged mother of three and grandmother of nine named Ellen.

She had the same name as his mother, and this Ellen reminded him so much of her. 

She pulled him into a hug, being careful not to squeeze him too hard. “I’m so glad to see you! You had us all so worried! How are you doing?” 

“Hi Ellen,” He pulled away and shifted his eyes quickly to the ground before looking her in the eye. He thought about lying, telling her that everything was fine so that he didn’t have to talk about it; any of it. Then he realized that this was a safe place, and he needed to talk to someone. 

“To tell ye the truth, I’ve been better.” 

Ellen frowned and rubbed his shoulder. “I know. Come on.” She gestured toward the main barn and they walked there together. 

While he was still in the hospital Jamie was happier than he’d been in a long time, even with all the pain, IVs, and machines that seemed to become part of his body. 

When he’d left, that happiness quickly faded and he slipped into a place in his mind where he could be alone. 

It was only recently that he figured out why, though he should’ve known a lot sooner. 

Whose voice had he heard when he was dying? The one that, for some reason, made him want to live. The voice of a stranger that made him want to work towards getting better, when his family couldn’t? 

Who had been at his bedside every day since he’d woke up, that listened to him without pitying him? The one that he tried to put out of his mind ever since, because he didn’t want to admit it even to himself. 

Claire. 

He’d fallen in love.

***

He followed Ellen all the way to the end of the aisle, stopping outside the stall of a young grullo mare named Ember. 

Ember arrived shortly after Jamie had been hired, rescued from a life of abuse and neglect. She was thin when she came off the trailer, though not emaciated. She was afraid of everyone, desperately trying to flee. It took them almost an hour just to move her a few yards from the trailer to the small paddock. 

Once she was alone in her paddock, she paced the fence-line, snorting and rearing and throwing her head. Even though she had a tank full of water and a few flakes of hay that had been few and far between in her previous ‘home’, if you could call it that. 

She’d arrived in the morning and hadn’t calmed down until that evening, and the only reason was because she had exhausted herself trying to get out. 

She stayed relatively calm after that, but she wouldn’t let anyone near her, even if they were there to refill her water or give her grain. 

It took weeks for her to get acclimated, and even then it was only just.

She allowed people to feed her and clean the paddock, but if they tried to touch her she would kick out at whoever tried.

The first person she started to trust was Jamie.

He would sit outside her pen, talking to her in Gaelic. Each day he managed to get a little bit closer to her, it seemed that she liked the Gaelic, almost like she could understand what he was saying. 

And he’d sit there for hours on end in between chores. Finally, she let him touch her. She tensed at first, but Jamie whispered to her again in Gaelic and the muscles in her neck relaxed.

“See, you’re alright. No one will hurt ye anymore, I promise.”

The mare whickered and flared her nostrils in response. 

Ember came to realize that not all people were bad, and that some of the smaller ones had treats in their small hands. 

But Jamie would always be her favorite.

“Hey, girl. I’ve missed you.” He whispered in the ancient tongue of his homeland, scratching just under her forelock (her favorite).

Ellen smiled, and left the two to get reacquainted. 

Jamie had helped Ember, and now she would help him. Not out of any obligation or debt, but because of the simple and powerful bond that exists between man and animal. 

***

Jenny came to pick him up several hours later, and she was overjoyed to see the smile on his face and that he was talking to someone. 

He got into the car and closed his eyes and exhaled deeply.

“Good day?” Jenny chuckled, turning on the ignition and putting the vehicle in drive.

“Aye. A good day.” He said confidently, the smile still on his face. 

***

October 3rd, 1977

Going back to work was just what Jamie needed to get him out of his cramped apartment, and out of his head.

Jenny was getting on a plane back to Scotland today, leaving Jamie alone- really alone for the first time since before the accident.

She hoped she wasn’t making a mistake by leaving.

“I’ll be fine Janet. Ye can call me whenever, if it makes ye feel better.”

Jenny turned toward him and gently shoved him. “That means ye have to answer, dimwit.”

Jamie chuckled and pulled his sister into his arms, hugging her goodbye. “Goodbye Jenny, I’ll be alright. Say hello to everyone for me, yeah?” 

Jenny pulled away, tears welling in her eyes. She nodded, and forced a smile. “Are you sure you’ll be alright? Because I can stay for a few more days if ye need me to.”

“I’ll be fine, Jenny. Now go. Get back to yer husband and Wee Jamie, and give ‘em a hug from me.”

Jenny nodded and hugged him again, she hesitated for a moment, but finally turned and headed toward the terminal. 

Jamie closed his eyes and tilted his head back, breathing deeply, relieved in some small way.

Then there it was again, that voice. Just when he thought he was getting back to the man he was before.

“I told you, Frank. I can’t, it’s over. I have my life and you have yours, now please, just leave it be.”

Claire.

#can i get a yeet #begin again #begin again au #70s au #jamie x claire #outlander #outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #interallydeceased #BA #BA au #outlander au #j/c fanfic #mine

[lightsburnbrite]

The Devil is in the Details: Part 1

After plugging the address in to her GPS, Karina drove off towards the center of the self proclaimed modern art district, just past the Kunstareal.

You have arrived at your destination.

With a frown, Karina drove on in hopes of finding a parking spot. She switched the map app on her phone to walking directions and soon found her way to the empty storefront. Finding the door locked, Karina stepped off to the side and chose to examine the chipped portions of her manicure. Soon she wouldn’t be able to resist picking at the missing sections of polish until she had peeled the entire nail clean.

“Miss Müller!”

Looking up, Karina saw a middle aged woman in a camel colored suit hurrying towards her and extending her hand.

“Sorry I’m late, traffic was terrible!” After shaking Karina’s hand, the woman then took the same hand and smoothed out her ivory blouse. “Fredericka Schmidt. It’s so nice to meet you in person, Ekaterina.”

Karina immediately formed the impression that the woman was a little scattered and in over her head. Even though she was late, she shouldn’t have acknowledged it or apologized. That would have given her the upper hand. Instead, Karina now held that position as the one being inconvenienced. At least, that was what Marwin had always told her. Giving her head an almost imperceivable shake as if to get the thought to leave, she smiled. “Karina will be fine, thank you.”

“Wonderful.” Schmidt pulled out a ring of color coded keys and flipped through them until she came to a bright green one. “Now, most of the commercial spaces on this street are either occupied by stores or we have a handful of artists that use them as their own personal galleries.”

Once the door was unlocked, they stepped into the bright and completely open space. “I’m interested in setting up a gallery of sorts,” Karina walked around the perimeter before turning her attention back to the real estate agent. “I inherited a large collection and while I’ve donated a lot, there were several pieces that I don’t want to part with so I figured that would be my best option. I have a few of my favorite pieces in my house but my husband isn’t a huge fan of having the entire place filled.”

“You have the Strohmann estate!” Schmidt’s eyes widened when she realized who she was dealing with. “I have larger properties-”

Karina gave her head a little shake. “No, this size is fine. I only have a handful that I want as permanent installations. Aside from that I plan to feature emerging artists that might otherwise not have a platform.”

“Yes, of course. How noble.”

Right then, Karina had to fight back the urge to roll her eyes. She never made it a habit of tying herself to Marwin Strohmann but her name was now well known in the artistic and philanthropic circles as the inheritor of his estate. It didn’t help her desire for anonymity when Focus published an article profiling the ten wealthiest “under 30’s” in the region. Karina had refused an interview and wouldn’t provide a headshot so the magazine must have searched for a useable picture elsewhere. The photograph that ran with the profile showed she and Leon both dressed in all black with sunglasses on, Karina with her arm looped around Leon’s, attending the memorial service for Marwin. If she was looking for a silver lining to it all, they made a very attractive couple.

“I’d like to sign the lease today if possible.” Karina turned back towards Fredericka Schmidt and punctuated her statement with a smile.

As part of her ongoing therapy, she worked with a body language coach. The initial idea was to help her feel more in control of her own surroundings but Karina was also aware that it just helped her become more assertive in general. The only difference was now that she didn’t care if people called her a bitch.

“Yes, yes, of course!” That request seemed to have flustered Schmidt somewhat but Karina just waited patiently as all of the paperwork was gathered.

When she got back into her car, Karina made a few taps on the in dash monitor and waited for the phone to ring. She wasn’t sure he’d pick up but she figured leaving a message would be fine also. After a few more rings, it clicked over.

“Hey Mausi!”

It always made Karina’s heart flutter when he called her that.

“Hi Leon.” She smiled and waited to see if he was feeling chatty or if she’d get to go first. When there was a slight pause, she continued. “I got it.”

“You rented the space? Shit, that’s great!”

“Yeah,” She laughed, feeling excited herself. “I looked around inside and it’s perfect so I signed a year’s lease right then.”

“I’m so proud of you, Maus.”

Karina could hear some commotion in the background then finally a voice she recognized yelled out.

Who’s on the phone?

She laughed when she heard Leon answer back: Angela Merkel!

“Hey, babe, I miss you like crazy but we’re out on a boat and the reception bad. Can I call you back tonight? Like right before bed when I’m by myself?”

She smirked now, knowing exactly what he had in mind and knowing that she could use that as well. “Yeah, of course. I love you, sir. And tell my brother I said hello.”

“I love you too, Maus.”

With a sigh and a smile, Karina switched the audio over to music and began the drive back to their place.

When Leon strode back out of the cabin, the guys started to tease him.

“Was that the wife checking in on you?” Lucca called out over from the other side.

Leon cocked his head to the side and smiled. “That was the wife giving me some good news about a project she’s been working on. Your sister says hello, by the way.” He had turned towards Marius at the end who just rolled his eyes, much in the same way his sister did.

“How did you manage to sneak away for a whole week?” Marius made a little jab at Karina’s expense.

Leon just shrugged now. He easily could have taken the credit for taking a guys only holiday, but he never missed an opportunity to point out how understanding and, at the root of it, reasonable Karina really was. “I told Karina what was planned, when I’d be leaving and when I’d be back.”

When that got some incredulity from the rest of the crew he laughed. “Plus she hates Mallorca and I’m taking her to the Maldives for our honeymoon over the winter break.”

Even though Karina had been a sore spot between Leon and Marius initially, Marius did give eventually but there was an unspoken understanding that Leon wouldn’t necessarily rub it in that he had married his best friend’s little sister. Every now and then, however, Marius would check in to make sure things were ok with Karina.

“Is she still seeing her therapist? The good one?” Marius dug through the cooler and found one of the ciders that Leon liked after getting a beer for himself.

With a nod of appreciation, Leon took a sip and then nodded again. “Yeah. She’s actually been able to cut down to twice a month now and, um, she’s doing really well. I’ve got my Maus back.”

“Good.” Marius nodded as well. “That’s good.”

Once Karina made it home, she immediately went to the spare room that she had set up as a work space and stood in front of her design board. “I’ll need to take pictures of the layout. Then I can figure out where I want everything to go and what area will be open for other artists.”

She turned to look at Elsa, her Bernese Mountain Dog, who seemed entirely disinterested.

“Of course,” She scratched Elsa behind her ear, “There’s an office so I’ll need to get you another bed to keep there. Sound good?”

That at least elicited a groan in response.

“I know.” Karina at down on the floor next to Elsa and wrapped her arms around the dog. “I miss him too. He said he’ll be home soon so maybe we can both stop moping around then.”

Karina could’t decide if she felt like cooking or if she even wanted some sort of takeout. After walking out on the terrace, she realized that the temperature had settled down to something a lot more comfortable. Grabbing Elsa’s leash, Karina looked to see what vendors were at the market today. Sometimes she could find a whole meal there and right now, that seemed like a better idea than anything else.

After dinner, Karina sat down and worked on compiling the history of the various pieces of art that she was donating to the museum. Occasionally, she’d glance at her phone but when she began nodding off at the table, Karina decided it was time to call it a night. She kept her phone next to her as she washed her face and brushed her teeth but it remained silent. Finally, she put a movie on and got into bed.

When Karina woke up, the first thing she did was to check her phone but there were only a few updates from various apps, no missed calls. Flopping back down, she rolled over on her side and stroke Elsa’s head. Elsa had made herself at home on Leon’s side of the bed whenever he was away.

“I know I’m being ridiculous,” She gently smoothed out Elsa’s ear now, “but he said he’d call.”

Karina frowned as she stared up at the ceiling but Elsa’s paw on her forearm brought her mind back. “Ok,” she sat up and yawned. “Ok, I’m getting up.”

The hardest part of her day had become figuring out what to wear to work. There was a professional dress code she needed to adhere to, the weather outside had been stifling hot recently yet the museum was always frigid, and there were some days where she was in the archives moving things around. Fortunately today, Karina knew she’d only be working at her desk so a simple shirt dress would suffice.

Coffee in hand, Karina made her way to the shared space where her desk was, greeting her coworkers along the way.

“Oh, Karina?”

She turned to see her boss, Nena, walking towards her carrying a leather folio. “Yes?”

“I was hoping you could help me out and train Daniel and Sara on conducting tours today.” Nena’s voice had a touch of pleading to it. “Julia has been working with them but she needed to call out sick today. Do you have time?”

Karina smiled and nodded. “Sure. Let me just put my stuff away and I’ll meet you out front.”

Daniel and Sara were two college students who were interning, much like she had at one point, so she felt a sort of obligation to help them out. They had never been introduced but Karina figured couldn’t have been any more than a year or two older than them which usually went over better than if she needed to tell someone older than her what to do.

“Daniel, Sara,” Nena turned to Karina once she had walked back to the main entrance. “This is Karina Müller, she’s one of our curators and actually wrote the script that you’ve been working from. She’ll be helping you out today.”

After spending a few hours with the two of them, Karina didn’t mind Daniel, but Sara had a little bit of snark to her that just rubbed Karina the wrong way. Still, Karina was grateful when their training portion of the day was finished and she could go back to cataloging the newest collection that had arrived.

She stopped around lunch time and went for a walk before returning to the break room. Sitting at the table with her salad, Karina still had her ear buds in when she realized someone was in the room with her.

“Hmm?” Karina had registered that it was Daniel who was speaking to her but she didn’t actually hear his question.

Daniel let out a little laugh. “I just said thank you for this morning. That’s one of the more useful training sessions I’ve had”

With a nod, Karina offered a polite smile. “Oh, thanks. I’m glad it was helpful.”

“It’s easy to tell this is something you’re really passionate about.” His smile broadened. “Listen, a few of us are going to catch a movie after work. Want to tag along?”

“Thanks for the offer but…” Karina then thought about what her evening would look like otherwise - taking work home and then moping around waiting to see if Leon would call. “Let me think about it, ok?”

Daniel offered a very satisfied grin in response. “Sure.”

#Leon Goretzka #the devil is in the details

[theindependentjournals]

Notes on Class

-The very first time I inhaled real marijuana?-    “oh……lovely..”

PRELUDE (AN OPENING REMARK:) “FAKE ASS BEACH IN MY DUMB MOFUCKING LIL BRAIN ASS HOMOEROGONEOUS ASS TWATS FAKE ASS WASTE OF MY MOFUCKING TIME. STUPID GAY SHITTY FUCK FALSE ASS HOE NIGGAS AINT NO REAL NIGGAS BUNCH A LIL BITCHES ASS WITH THEIR PROSTITUTE ASS STRIPPING FUCKING HO PIMP MURDERED FAKE ASS MORMON SHIT WIT THEM DAMN BITCH NIGGER, BITE MY THUMB BITCH. SHIT ASS BITCH MOTHERFUKIN FAKE ASS NIGGER FOLK WITH THEIR DAMN STUPID BULLSHIT LIVES THEM OLD FAGGOT ASS NIGGER. CHOKE ON A MOFUCKING BITCH ASS BITCH SHIT HOEBAG DOUCHE MONKEYS MOFUCKING CATHETAR BITCH.”

BLISS, ID THE WALKER CENTER 1-800-227-4190 ACCESS BEHAVIORAL HEALTH 208-338-4699 EVALUATOR DUSTIN LYNCH : SEVERE DRUG HABIT (3.5) NOT EVEN ONCE ORGANIZATION 12 STEP SPRITUAL RECOVERY PLAY IT FORWARD “I’M A DOCTOR, NOT A TAILOR” THE AMERICAN PSYCHIATRIC ASSOCIATION (DSM-IV) DRUGS APP ON PHONE

DEB: “I DRIVE ON THESE ROADS SOMETIMES! YOU WERE PUTTING OTHER PEOPLE AT RISK!”

Alfonzo: 9 WEEKS CLEAN OFF COCAINE. TRIP OUT OF TOWN FOR 4TH OF JULY TO CABIN… JET SKIS AND POWERBOARDS. HE DOES VALIDATION WITH HIS GIRLFRIEND. BELIEVES IN A HIGHER POWER. VISITED HIS DAUGHTER AND WENT TO ICE CREAM.FEELS VICTIMIZED BECAUSE SOME PEOPLE ARE RACIST AND THINK HE WILL STEAL FROM THEM OR HARM THEM.  PLAYS APP ON PHONE WHEN TRYING TO REST, “CALM.” HE HAD BEEN SOBER FOR 11 WEEKS AND 1 DAY AND THEN HE DRANK AT A FRIDAY 4TH OF JULY PARTY. HIS UA CAME BACK NEGATIVE. WAS READY TO PREPARE FOR RELAPSE.

Phillip: DRUG OF CHOICE METH AND COCAINE. WAS AWAY FOR A WHILE. STOPPED ACID 3 WEEKS AGO, HAD A REALLY HARD TIME QUITTING MARIJUANA AND ACID. IRRITABLE AND DEHYDRATED.

James: 2 WEEKS CLEAN OFF ALCOHOL AND METH. USES PATIENCE. “IT’S NOT ALL ABOUT ME.” BORN A BOY IN SPOKANE, WA. IS NOW 50. AT 2 Y.O. MOVED TO A SMALL TOWN COMMERICIAL FISHING WITH DAD. USED CRAB BOATS. “ALWAYS GONE FISHING.” HAD 4 SISTERS, 1 BROTHER. IF MOM WASN’T WORKING THEN SHE WAS DRUNK. DRANK DRANK DRANK. A LOT OF ABUSE, BUT WOULD NOT PHYSICALLY HARM THEM. DAD TOOK ONE SISTER OUT OF HOUSE TO LOOSEN THE LOAD ON MOM. THE THREE WOULD PICK ON EACH OTHER AND BECOME ISOLATED BECAUSE OF ABUSE. BREAKING WINDOWS – RUNNING – SHOOTING STUFF. DAD AND MOM FIGHT OVER ALCOHOL. STARTED WONDERING WHY SHE DRANK. WANTED TO BE LIKE MOM SO WOULD DRINK THE BEER AND REFILL WITH CREAM SODA. WANTED TO BE LIKE DAD SO WOULD STEAL CIGARETTES. SISTERS WERE SMOKING CIGARETTES AND MARIJUANA. THEN HE WAS STONED AND DIDN’T KNOW WHAT IT WAS. WOULD GET HIMSELF SICK FROM LIQUOR AND ADD WATER. NOBODY KNEW IT WAS HIM, THEY KNEW THE SISTERS SMOKED MARIJUANA SO THEY BLAMED ALL ON SISTERS. HE STARTED STEALING CRAP SO HE GOT TO GO FISHING. HAD GOOD MONEY FOR BEING YOUNG. STARTED INTO COCAINE AND LOTS OF IT. HAD 30 U.A.S FOR BREAKING CURFEW AND HAD TO GO BACK AGAIN. COURTS JUST WANTED HIS WEALTHY FAMILIES MONEY. IT WAS MOSTLY “TAKE OUR MONEY AND LET US GO.” HE GOT MARRIED AND BARELY KNEW HER CAUSE HE WAS DRUNK. SHE GOT PREGNANT AND THE KID DIED OF SIDS. HE LEFT HER AND WENT ON A BENDER. 4 DUIS -> ASSAULT -> PRISON. “I HAVE A PROBLEM.” PRISON SUCKS. HE ATTENDED NO GROUPS, JUST HAD TIME. HIS DAD MOVED TO IDAHO. HE HAD NOTHING TO DO. HE STOPPED FISHING AND BEGAN USING METH. DOESN’T REMEMBER HOW HE GOT BACK INTO METH, MUST HAVE BEEN SOME FRIEND. COUPLE YEARS INTO IDAHO AND HAD TROUBLE WITH PAROLE. WENT INTO A HALFWAY HOUSE AND BAM THERE WAS METH. WAS DRINKING SO P.O. TOOK OUT OF HALFWAY HOUSE. DATED A WOMAN THERE. HAD HOUSE, CARS, GOOD LIFE, THEN TO DOING METH AGAIN. AT 18, HIS LIFE WAS LIKE MONEY, BOAT, COCAINE. IN NEWPORT, OR.

Pricsilla: 6 MONTHS CLEAN OFF METH/COCAINE/VODKA. “BEING DONE WITH WHAT I USED TO DO.” MOVED OUT OF A SHELTER AND DID A MRI BRAIN SCAN TO LOOK FOR PROBLEMS. TEMPS OF 100 MAKE HER IRRITABLE AND MOODY. SHE THINKS IT IS TOO DRY. SHE NEEDS NASAL DROPS. SHE WAS LEFT FOR DEAD IN CALIFORNIA AT 18. USING SKILLS LIKE RATIONAL THINKING AND ABSITENCE.

Blake: 3 MONTHS CLEAN OFF MARIJUANA. HAS NARCOLEPSY. USES FAMILY TO KEEP HIM FROM BLAZING. GRADUATED HEALTHY THINKING GROUP.

Paul: 9 MONTHS CLEAN OFF OPIATES & BENZOS. TRYING TO GET HIS “DUCKS IN A ROW.” HAS A HOME IN WILDER. SPENT 2 YEARS IN ICELAND. STOPPED TAKING PAIN KILLERS HE BECAME IMMUNE TO EFFECTS. -PAIN MEDS APPARENTLY ONLY ARE EFFECTIVE FOR 3 DAYS- SPENT 30 YEARS ON PAIN MEDICATIONS. SCOLIOSIS ON DISCS. SISTER TOOK HIS PILLS AWAY. SO HE WENT TO HOSPITAL. 30, 80MG A DAY. METHADONE WORKED BETTER AND WAS EASIER TO GET OFF OF. FEELING LETHARGIC. STOPPED NARCOTICS, STARTED DIAZEPAN. PERCOCETS WORKED GOOD BUT BUILT A RESISTANCE. HE WILL TAKE AGAIN BUT AT A LOWER DOSE. NO DETOX BUT TOOK 30 DAYS TO FEEL BETTER. HAVE TO GO TO DOCTOR BUT ALL THEY DO IS TAKE YOUR BLOOD PRESSURE. DOCTOR DOESN’T KNOW WHERE THE PAIN IS LOCATED. NARCOTICS <- NUEROSENDERS -> CLEAN. TAKING LYRICA FOR NERVE PAIN AND VISTARIL FOR ANXIETY. CHRONIC PAIN CLASSES AND HE IS A SURGICAL CANDIDATE FOR NERVE BACK.. CLEARING NERVES AND FUSING BACK. HERE AT RECOVERY 4 LIFE FOR 9.5 MONTHS, LEGAL CONSEQUENCES AND COURT REQUIRED. DAY BY DAY HE HAS NOT THOUGHT ABOUT DRINKING. HAS ANXIETY AND AVOIDS TRIGGERS, NO TRAUMA.

Matt: 2 MONTHS CLEAN. GOING FISHING AT CJ STRIKES.

Inez: 22 MONTHS SOBER OFF ALCOHOL. SHE NEVER THOUGHT SHE WOULD QUIT DRINKING. HER FRIEND QUIT AS WELL WHOM SHE ALSO NEVER THOUGHT WOULD GET CLEAN. “I AM WORTHY OF HAPPINESS.” PRACTICES A GOOD ATTITUDE WITH GRATITUDE. WAS A LIASON IN THE HOUSE SHE IS THE MANAGER OF. NEEDS TO STOP GETTING MAD. A GIRL WHO LIVES THERE, HER BOYFRIEND CALLED OVER AND OVER. GIRL WAS PISSED OFF NOBODY ANSWERED, 36 RINGS AND 9 CALLS, ENDED UP NOT BEING THE BOYFRIEND BUT A VERY IMPORTANT CALL. “ALCOHOL IS MY DOWNFALL” DOESN’T WANT TO LOSE MANAGEMENT POSITION FOR THE WOMAN’S HOME. SHE HAD SOME SEIZURES AND HAD TO VISIT THE HOSPITAL. “I HAVE TO BE CLEAN OR I WILL GO TO JAIL.” SOBER SINCE 8/16/16, NEVER THOUGHT SHE WOULD BE SOBER FOR 2 YEARS. WISHES SHE HAD A CORVETTE. DOESN’T UNDERSTAND WHY SHE CAN’T HAVE A GOOD LIFE LIKE ALL HER FRIENDS. LOSING HER HOME. HAS TO ACCEPT FACT THAT LIFE CHANGES AND GOD SUCKS…. LMAO, JOKES ON YOU. GOES TO THE NAMPA PUBLIC LIBRARY.

Donna: EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER. SAD -> HAPPY -> HURT -> LONELY -> ISOLATED. WAS A DRUNKEN MESS AND HATED EVERYTHING. TRYING NOT TO OVER-CATASTROPHIZE FEELINGS TO SITUATIONS. LEARNED DISTRESS TOLERANCE. TRYING TO BECOME MORE MINDFUL AND AWARE. LEARNING TO SPEAK OUT AND ASK FOR HELP. WISHES OTHERS TO BE OPEN-MINDED IN DIALETICAL BEHAVIORAL THERAPY GROUP. THINKS OTHERS WILL NOT LIKE THE GROUP AT FIRST OR EVEN UNDERSTAND IT. “ADDICTION DOES NOT DISCRIMATE AGAINST AGE/GENDER.” WORKING ON KEEPINIG HER EMOTIONS IN CHECK SO SHE DOES NOT GET A ONE-WAY TICKET ON THE CRAZY TRAIN.

ALLEYGAINY SIERRA NEVADAS MOTANA. CANCER IN BREAST -> BRAIN. 16TH BIRTHDAY MET DAVE GAINEY WHO RAPED HER AND HER MOM DIED THE SAME TIME. SISTERS MOVED. DAVE GAINEY WAS KATHY’S HUSBAND AND HER DAD’S BEST FRIEND. SHE RAN TO THE NEIGHBORS. GRAD CARMEL HIGH FEB 1986 IN FALLON, NV. SISTER STARTED DOING COCAINE AND MOVED TO SACRAMENTO. DIED IN 2012. HAD FIRST CHILD. SPLIT FROM FATHER AND HE KIDNAPPED THE BABY.SHE GOT HIM BACK, HE WAS UNDERWEIGHT AND HAD LEAD POISONING IN A PART OF HIS KIDNEY, HAD TO GET REMOVED. (ANDREW 1990) BRITTANY AND BROOKE, TWINS DIED OF HEART AND LUNG FAILURE APRIL 28, 1998 AT 3 MONTHS. HUSBAND WAS HEAVY MACHINE OPERATOR IN THE MINES. KYLE 1992. GRADUATED ICC COLLEGE WITH NURSING LICENSE. WAS PREGNANT AGAIN RIGHT AFTER FUNERAL. HAD BROCK AND HER CERVIX TURNED BLACK UTERINE CANCER. IV TO LOSING HAIR. MET A CLUB GUARD BRYAN, BEGAN RUNNING AND GUNNING. HE SMACKED HER SILLY (PHYSICAL ABUSE.) MC AT CLUB HOOKED IT UP (LARRY.) HE HAD A MOTORCYCLE. HE WAS IN A HIT AND RUN. WAS LIFEFLIGHTED TO NA. HAD ALCOHOL IN WATER BOTTLE WHEN SHE VISITED HIM IN HOSPITAL. WHERE SHE WAS TAKEN TO 28 DAY PROGRAM AT NEW START. DRANK DRANK DRANK. DEC. 7TH TRIED TO KILL HERSELF. DRIVING AND BLEW DOUBLE .29 IN JEROME COUNTY. HAD NO BAIL. IS ORDERED TO REMAIN SOBER UNTIL 2019. “LOONY FREAKZOID” WHEN I DRINK.

Lawnie: HAS A FULFILLING LIFE WITH HIS FAMILY. WORKING ON NOT AVOIDING OR ESCAPING SITUATIONS. SOBERED UP BUT DID NOT WANT TO FACE SOBRIETY. HALF SMILE AND OPEN HANDS. WORKING ON RESPECTING THE EARTH AROUND HIM. VALIDATION AND UNDERSTANDING. “I KNOW I AM WORTH SOMETHING.” TRYING TO TAKE CARE OF HIMSELF BY WALKING ½ HOUR A DAY. RECOMMENDS FOR OTHERS IN GROUP TO BE ON TIME AND PARTICIPATE.

Kata: MOLLY AND HEROIN… LOST CLOSE FAMILY MAY 2010. CRYING IN CLASS, IRRITABLE.

Pilot Dude: “I’M DIFFERENT NOW” THOUGHTS… EMOTIONS… FEELINGS….. HERE BECAUSE OF DRINKING AT BAR AND THEN DROVE HOME. “IT HELPS TO GIVE BACK” HE KNOWS SOMEONE WHO STARTED A KID ON HEROIN WHEN HE WAS 8… LIKE, CAN’T GO BACK NOW. BORN IN IDAHO FALLS. LIKED TO BREAK RULES TO GET KICKS. MOM SPLIT DAD. MOM REMARRIED NEXT MONTH. D.A.R.E IN 4TH GRADE DRUG ABUSE RESEARCH STAFF. 8TH GRADE- SMOKED WEED STEMS. STOLE WEED FROM BROTHER. DRANK IN 8TH GRADE. PARTY ON WEEKENDS IN HIGH SCHOOL. COLLEGE HAD 3 DAY WEEKENDS FRI,SAT,SUN TO PARTY. GRADUATED COLLEGE WITH CIVIL ENGINEER DEGREE AND DIDN’TLIKE IT. WAS A STUPID COLLEGE KID AND POINTED TO A RANDOM MAJOR. NOW IN POCATELLO. ADDICTED TO ADDREALL. AMBIAN AND ADDERALL. USED DOCTORS TO GET THIS DRUG. HIS EX WAS AN ALCOHOLIC. EVERY NIGHT HE HAD PILLS. PILOT…. MONDAY-THURSDAY CLEANED HIS SYSTEM. FINISHED AND BECAME FLIGHT INSTRUCTOR. MET GIRLFRIEND WHERE HE DID PILLS AND ALCOHOL WITH HER EVERYDAY. GOT PANCREATITIS. BODY SHUT DOWN AND HE HAD NO WATER FOR 2 DAYS. BOWLING BALL HEAD ON FLOOR GASPING FOR AIR. NAPROXEN. OXYS – TOOK BECAUSE FELT GOOD. AFTER HAVING PANCREATITIS HE FELT SO WRONG LIKE HE HAD DECIEVED HIMSELF. NOW HE WAS ON OPIATES AND GHBS INSTEAD OF ALCOHOL. GOT FREE OXYS FROM THE DOCTOR. BENZOS AS WELL. COULD NO LONGER PAY RENT. OXY WITHDRAWALS FROM STREET OXYS. HE HAD ON HIM 50 G OF OXYS – 6 MONTHS WORTH ABOUT 800$$$ WORTH BUT COULD SELL ON STREET FOR 50,000-100,000$. 50X STRONGER THAN HEROIN. STARTED GETTING SEIZURES. 2 YEARS HE WAS IN PERSONAL TRAINING. SOLD TO PAY SOME RENT. POLICE KNOCKED WHILE HE WAS HITTING FENTANYL AND HE HAD A CLOSE CALL.. GOT NORCOS FROM DOCTORS FOR “BACK PAIN.” HE HAD A MONTH LONG MENTAL TREATMENT IN MISSISSIPPI. AND COPS CALLED ON HIM FOR BEING DRUNK IN PUBLIC, SENT TO PSYCH WARD FOR 5 DAYS. HE THOUGHT HE MAY JUST MOVE TO MEXICO. HIS MOM SAVED HIM AND HE STAYS ALIVE FOR HIS MOTHER.

Aleisha: DRUG OF CHOICE. HEROIN. WORKS LONG HOURS AND IS VERY TIRED.

Dakota: USES SKILLS FROM CLASS, BREATHING EXERCISES.

Nicole: “MENTAL HEALTH COURT IS RUNNING MY LIFE. I PEE IN A CUP EVERY MORNING”

SKILLS: INTERPERSONAL EFFECTIVENESS “COMMUNICATING WITH OTHERS” THE LEFT SIDE WINS. YOU DON’T HAVE TO STEAL IN ORDER TO GET METHAMPETAMINES.

MAKE YOUR RELATIONSHIPS BETTER, NOT WORSE. SOMETIMES, WE DON’T DO SO GOOD. LEARN HOW TO EFFECTIVELY MAKE REQUESTS AND EFFECTIVELY KNOW WHEN TO SAY NO. MAINTAIN BALANCE AND RESOLVE CONFLICTS.

SOME MAY TAKE BEING NICE FOR WEAKNESS AND OVERPOWER YOU. SOME ARE MORE EMOTIONAL WHILST OTHERS DON’T GET UPSET.

MYTHS – OBJECTIVE EFFECTIVENESS IF I ASK FOR SOMETHING OR SAY NO, I CAN’T STAND IT IF SOMEONE GETS UPSET WITH ME. I MUST BE REALLY INADEQUATE IF I CAN’T FIX THIS MYSELF. IF I DON’T HAVE WHAT I WANT OR NEED IT DOESN’T MAKE A DIFFERENCE, I DON’T CARE REALLY (APATHY) IF I TRY TO ASK FOR HELP I WILL BE A BURDEN. PEOPLE WITHOUT MONEY WHO ASK FOR FAVORS ARE LEECHES.

“I CAN PROBABLY GO WITHOUT.”

MY NEEDS ARE AS IMPORTANT AS ANYONE ELSES. GOD HELPS THOSE WHO HELP THEMSELVES. SAYING NO IS PUTTING UP A HEALTHY BOUNDARY.

THE PROBLEM IS JUST IN MY HEAD I SHOULDN’T BOTHER OTHERS. CHALLENGE: OTHER PEOPLE ARE CARING – YOU CAN ASK FOR ASSISTANCE.

IF I DON’T HAVE WHAT I NEED IT WON’T MAKE A DIFFERENCE, I DON’T CARE REALLY. CHALLENGE: I CARE SO MUCH THAT I GET WHAT ASSISTANCE I NEED.

OTHERS SHOULDN’T HAVE TO PUT MORE WORK IN ME. I DON’T NEED SUPPORT AND YOU SHOULDN’T EXPECT IT. “KILL THEM WITH KINDNESS.” “GIVE RESPECT, GET RESPECT.” TREAT OTHERS HOW I WANT TO BE TREATED. IT’S OK TO BE SKEPTICAL. THE GOVERNMENT CONTROLS EVERYTHING. OTHERS AROUND YOU MAY FEEL BAD FOR YOU OR THEY MAY BE SELF-CENTERED OR AGAINST YOU. MY DECISIONS EFFECT EVERYONE AROUND ME. TRY NOT TO HURT OTHERS.

THE WHEEL – RELATIONSHIP WITH DRUGS USE: Not a habit MISUSE: Taking at a higher dose for high rather than i.e. pain ABUSE: When it is harmful for your health and others ADDICTION: Takes over life, need it all the time DEPENDENCE: Necessary to need it in order to feel normal

INTRODUCTION: Try EXPERIMENTAL: Use more, take note on effects, see how it feels/if you like BENEFICIAL: If you like it is good for a short time. I.E. You are happy.. for a short-term. ABUSIVE: Continued use leads to damage in long-term POINT OF NO RETURN!!! DEPENDENT TOXIC FATAL EMOTIONAL REGULATION PT.1:

UNDERSTAND AND NAME YOUR OWN EMOTIONS!! RELAPSE OK TO FEEL EMOTIONS OF FEELING LIKE A BIRDIE

WHY SHOULD WE DESCRIBE EMOTIONS? “SO I DON’T BLOW UP, UP THE SPINE”

IDENTIFY AND DESCRIBE YOUR EMOTION. REGULAR EMPTINESS KNOW WHAT EMOTIONS DO FOR YOU. HURT YOU

FEEL MORE COMFORTABLE SPEAK MORE LOGICALLY BE MORE PRODUCTIVE GRIEF/SHAME/SPIRAL DOWN TOILET

DECREASE THE FREQUENCY OF UNWANTED EMOTIONS: BEAUTIFUL BLACK EYES. OH POOR ME. GLOOM AND DOOM. GOD DAMNIT. DECREASE EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY DECREASE VULNERABILITY TO EMOTIONAL MIND. BE ABOVE IT. UNAFFECTIVE. GOD DAMNIT.

RED 4 LOKOS, THE DRUNKEN STEREOTYPE. HAND SANITIZER SMELLS LIKE VODKA. THINKING OF FUTURE MANAGE EMOTIONS WITH ALCOHOL.

DECREASE EMOTIONAL SUFFERING MUSICAL CHAIRS “I THINK THE OCEAN SMELLS GOOD” KEEP WITHIN LEGAL BOUNDS

EMOTIONS MOTIVATE US TO ACTION FIGHT OR FLIGHT HARDWIRED IN BIOLOGY -> GENETIC

DIDN’T KNOW THE SUN WAS IN THEIR WAY “FINE.” WAITING IN LINE - “YOU LOOK MAD, DUDE” WAITING..HUNGRY..ANTICIPATION LADY MOVES BECAUSE THINKS HE WILL STEAL.. “I DON’T WANT YOUR STUFF” “ON A MISSION” REJECTION

AN EMOTION.. I AM TIRED SO I CANNOT MOVE. EMOTIONS ARE RED FLAGS “INTUITION IS WHEN GOD TALKS TO YOU.”

PT.2

-ANGER- AGITATION ANNOYANCE BITTERNESS FRUSTRATION INDIGNATION IRRITATION WRATH

EVENTS THAT TRIGGER ANGER +TREATED UNFAIRLY +GOALS BEING BLOCKED +THINGS SHOULD BE DIFFERENT THAN THEY ARE +NOT HAVING THINGS TURN OUT AS EXPECTED AFTEREFFECTS +DEPERSONALIZATION, DISSOCIATIVE EXPERIENCES, NUMBNESS

-DISGUST- ANTIPATHY? HATE

PROMPTING EVENTS +BEING FORCED TO SWALLOW SOMETHING YOU REALLY DON’T WANT +BEING FORCED TO ENGAGE IN OR WATCH UNWANTED SEXUAL CONTANT

INTERPRETATION +SWALLOWING SOMETHING TOXIC +YOUR MIND IS BEING CONTAMINATED

BIOLOGICAL CHANGES +VOMMITING +FEELING DIRTY

EXPRESSIONS +VOMITING

-ENVY- DOWNHEARTED

INTERPRETATION +HAVE SUCH A BAD LOT

BIOLOGICAL CHANGES +LOSE WHAT THEY HAVE, HAVE BAD LUCK OR BE HURT +FEELING OF PLEASURE WHEN OTHERS EXPERIENCE FAILURE OR LOSE WHAT THEY HAVE +I LOVE WHEN OTHERS GET HURT

ACTIONS +TRYING TO IMPROVE YOUR SITUATION

AFTERAFFECTS +ATTENDING TO WHAT OTHERS HAVE

-FEAR- APPREHENSION DREAD HORROR HYSTERIA? SHOCK

PROMPTING EVENTS +HAVING YOUR WELL-BEING THREATENED

INTERPRETATION +YOU MIGHT BE HARMED

-HAPPINESS- ECSTASY

PROMPTING EVENTS +NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT

BIOLOGICAL CHANGES +FEELING AT PEACE +CAN DENY HAPPINESS

EXPRESSIONS +SILLINESS

AFTERAFFECTS +FEELING JOYFUL IN FUTURE

-SHAME- +SAYING YOU ARE SORRY OVER AND OVER +DISTRACTING +WHY EMOTE WHEN YOU CAN DEMOTE?

-GUILT- +DON’T HAVE TO HOLD ANGER +3-DAY ANGER STRIKE +WALLOW IN IT

EXPRESSIONS +ASKING FOR FORGIVENESS “FORGIVE ME, FATHER.”

AFTEREFFECTS +DO NO HARM

“USING ALCOHOL OR DRUGS WAS A THINKING ERROR IN MY BEHAVIOR.” STOP TO THINK ABOUT WHAT I DO WISE MIND IS EFFECTFUL FOR THINKING/ACTING NO MATTER WHAT THOSE ONES THINK TRY TO REACT IN A POSITIVE WAY BE PATIENT

HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY? ARROGANT INNOCENT LOADED PAINED -DIRTY -SICK

FEELINGS: CHOKED UP, ILL AT EASE INJURED, PAINED, SUFFERING, ACHING, TORTURED INFLAMED WEAK, WEARY

DEFINITION REMORSEFUL: DEEP AND PAINFUL REGRET FOR A WRONGDOING. PEACEFUL, POWERFUL, JOYFUL – SUBSETS OF FEELING WHEEL I CROSSED OUT AND SAYS I AM NEVER TO FEEL AGAIN. THINGS I CANT FEEL. “YOUR EMOTIONS WERE NOT YOUR CHOICE – A BIOLOGICAL FUNCTION DICTATING THEM”

PT.3 BUILD MASTERY AND COPE AHEAD

DOESN’T MATTER AS LONG AS YOU WORSHIP THE Q’ARAN DOUAJ ARABIC FOR WEALTH

STAYING SOBER TODAY IS BEING PRODUCTIVE SMALL FISH IN A BIG POND.. A BIG WHIRL GRIN & BEAR IT, WAIT IT OUT HOW A SUICIDE HAS TO MENTALLY PREPARE FOR YEARS BEFORE COMPLETING.

TAKE CARE OF MIND BY TAKING CARE OF BODY P L        1.TREAT PHYSICAL ILLNESS E        2. BALANCE EATING (FOODS CAN MAKE YOU OVERLY EMOTIONAL. EMPTY FLUFF. FASTING) A       3. AVOID MOOD ALTERING SUBSTANCES (XTC,MOLLY,HEROIN,GHB,COCAINE,LSD,MUSHROOMS) S        4. BALANCE SLEEP (HOUR A NIGHT – BUDDHIST MONKS) E        5. GET EXERCISE

OBSERVE YOUR EMOTIONS “WALLOW IN THE DEB-WAVE” WHY CAN’T I FIGHT THIS? PAIN 20-30 MINUTE EPISODES AUG 16, 2008… GIRLS MOM WENT MISING ANGER – CONSUMING

LOVE YOUR EMOTIONS “THIS TOO SHALL PASS”

WHAT EMOTION DOES THE LORD FEEL? SUPREME.

YOU ARE NOT YOUR EMOTIONS -EAT YOUR EMOTIONS

MANAGING EXTREME EMOTIONS BOUGHT A HOUSE AND ALL HE WANTED WAS A BEAUTIFUL LAWN HE HAD A DANDELION PROBLEM SO HE BOUGHT A GARDENING BOOK AND WROTE THE AGRICULTURAL UNIT

HER HUSBAND LEFT HER. MAYBE HE LEFT BECAUSE YOU ARE AN ALCOHOLIC.

COOK WITH GARLIC AND ONIONS.

FEELINGS AND EMOTIONS IN RECOVERY 1. DO YOU NOTICE THAT YOU EXPERIENCE SOME FEELINGS MORE THAN OTHERS - ANGER, RECKLESS ABANDONMENT       OTHERS: MOODY, QUESTIONING, ANXIOUS       OTHERS: ANGER, IMPATIENT, CANT RELATE, TENSE, WRATHFUL, FURIOUS, EMPTY

2. WHAT ARE THE FEELINGS OR EMOTIONS YOU TRY TO AVOID? -SHAME, PAIN (CHAMPAGNE)        OTHERS: BEING ISOLATED, BEING INSECURE, UNWANTED

3. HOW DO YOU EXPRESS YOUR FEELINGS? -TALK TO MYSELF, TALK TO OTHERS ON CHATROOMS, SOMETIMES I CRY, I WRITE MUSIC/SHORT STORIES      OTHERS: USED TO KEEP TO SELF, NOW TALKS MORE      OTHERS: BOTTLE UP

4. DO YOU FIND YOURSELF ONLY EXPRESSING NEGATIVE FEELINGS -MY POSITIVE FEELINGS ARE ACCOUNTED FOR      OTHERS: YES, USUALLYEXPRESSES NEGATIVE FEELINGS – HARSH TO DAUGHTER      OTHERS: YES, MORE FREQUENT AND OVERPOWER POSITIVE

5. DO YOU FIND YOURSELF ONLY EXPRESING POSITIVE FEELINGS? -MY NEGATIVE FEELINGS RECEIVE TIME      OTHERS: IT’S WORK TO EXPRESS NEW SORTS OF THINKING      OTHERS: NO

6. WHICH FEELING OR EMOTIONS WILL MAKE YOU MOST LIKELY TO RELAPSE IN FUTURE -HAPPINESS THAT IS ONLY POSSIBLE DUE TO DRUG INDUCEMENT         OTHERS: INSECURITY, FEELING UNWANTED         OTHERS: ANGER, ISOLATE, EMPTY, STUBBORN

7. POSITIVE WAY TO DEAL WITH FEELINGS - COUNSELORS, ETC =           OTHERS: SELF-TALK, DON’T KEEP FEELINGS BOTTLED, SOMETIMES I CATASTROPHIZE           OTHERS: DON’T JUDGE OR ASSUME. LISTEN AND CAN’T JUMP.

8. WHO CAN YOU TALK TO IF YOU ARE OVERWHELMED? - FRIENDS ON CHAT ROOM, MYSELF          OTHERS: COUNSELOR, RELAPSE COUCH, SELF-TALK          OTHERS: SISTERS, MOM, BOYFRIEND, DAUGHTERS

INTERPERSONAL EFFECTIVENESS GETTING WHAT YOU WANT

DESCRIBE                                                   COP ARREST EXPRESS                                                   FEAR FOR LIFE ASSERT                                                       “USE YOURS” REINFORCE                                           ..I CAN’T PAY THIS.. (STAY) MINDFUL                                    I DESERVED THIS APPEAR CONFIDENT                       I CAN GET THROUGH THIS NEGOTIATE                   WHAT YOU DID WAS WRONG – YOU WILL PAY

CAN’T CONTROL HOW WE’VE BEEN DRAGGED THROUGH SHIT ORANGES TO APPLES – CANT COMPARE SITUATIONALLY SOMETIMES YOU DON’T OWE AN EXPLANATION BE ASSERTIVE. “HEY I OWE YOU 100$, BUT I ONLY GOT 20$.” “WELL IT’S A TOSS (LOSE-LOSE) BECAUSE I NEED THE 100$ NOW. INCREMENTAL PAYMENTS WON’T CUT IT.”

 APPLYING DEAR MAN SKILLS TO CURRENT INTERACTION A GOOD RX, A CONVICT,” WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN TOMORROW IF I USE NOW?” HAVE TO USE MORE TO GET THE SAME EFFECT. ODEN WORLD. TREE. 9 DAYS. 9 NOBLE VERSES. HUNGRY ANGRY LONELY TIRED CAN ONLY BE STOPPED BY INTERVENTION EMBARASSED -> MAD -> STUPID ADDICTION IN KRONIC IT CANNOT BE CHANGED NOT USE BECAUSE PARENTS HAVE NONE. NONE AT P.O.’S OFFICE. CRAVINGS AROUND MOTHER – SOBER 4 HIS MOTHER “WHEN A CRAVING HITS, EVERYTHING ELSE IS OUT DOOR.” ALL SYSTEMS GO LOSS OF PURPOSE ASKS FOR A SIGN FROM GOD WANTS TO BE A BETTER PERSON USING MORE THAN NECESSARY TOOK A SPOON TO SHOW AND TELL (DAUGHTERS) ON ACCIDENT 12 STEPS – WHITE BISON, CELEBRATE RECOVERY… ALLUMBAUGH (HELPFUL BEHAVIORS, CODEPENDENCE)… SMART RECOVERY *PURE WELLNESS* RED HOUSE. BIOLOGICAL LIFE DETERRATION. CAN’T GET OFF THE ROLLER COASTER – IS CONTROLLING ME!! ADDICTION PRIMARY DISEASE – LOST POWER OF CONTROL DO NOT SCHEDULE IF YOU ARE USING BECAUSE SCHEDULING IS STRUCTURE LEARN ORGANIZATION BRING SCHEDULE BOOK TO SOCIAL WORKER A.A. -> N.A. -> C.A (COCAINE ANONYMOUS) -> 7’O CLOCK -RED HOUSE-  *WAR STORIES*

DISTRESS TOLERANCE

ACTIVITIES! CONTRIBUTING! COMPARISONS! PUSHING AWAY! THOUGHTS! SENSATIONS! CONSIDER LAST YEAR MAYBE YOU WERE IN JAIL. NOW AT LEAST YOU ARE NOT IN JAIL. PUERTO RICO HURRICANE COMPARE YOURSELF TO OTHERS LESS FORTUNATE “BOO-HOO” EDUCATE YOURELF, LISTEN TO “THE BLUES” LISTEN TO EMOTIONAL MUSIC THAT CREATES DIFFERENT EMOTIONS LEAVE THE SITUATION MENTALLY BUILD AN IMAGINARY WALL WITH IMAGINARY SOLDIERS PUT THE PAIN IN A BOX ON A SHELF YELL: NO! A PILL BOTTLE WITHOUT A LABEL? LET IT BE. COUNT CARDS “AS AN IMPATIENT, I WOULD COUNT THE TILES ON THE CEILING” SELF-SOOTHING: VISION, HEARING, SMELL, TASTE, TOUCH IMPROVING THE MOMENT: IMAGERY, MEANING, PRAYER, RELAXING, ONE THING AT A TIME, VACATION, ENCOURAGEMENT

DISTRESS TOLERANCE PT.2

RADICAL ACCEPTANCE “ACCEPTING THE WAY YOU LIVE IN THE MOMENT.” ACCEPTING THE SITUATION WITHOUT BEING BITTER DO NOT THROW A TANTRUM WITHOUT RESPONDING WITH WILLFULNESS INEFFECTIVITY “WHY CAN’T I BE LIKE OTHER PEOPLE WHO DON’T HAVE TO DEAL WITH IT” CONSTANT PAIN LEARNING EXPERIENCES – LEARNING TO LIVE THROUGH PAINFUL TIMES SOME PEOPLE HATE MENTAL HEALTH DIAGNOSIS AND DIDN’T ASK NOR DESERVE IT COPE, REDUCE, FIND BALANCE ACCEPT REALITY!! THE RULES OF THE UNIVERSE! ………..IF YOU DO NOT ACCEPT REALITY…… YOU WILL GO BACK INTO HELL………. *INSERT PROFESSOR UMBRIDGE’S FACE HERE WITH A MENACING TONE MEANT TO INDUCE TORTURE TO INNNOCENT SOULS* “WE’RE ALL SHEEP AND THE LORD IS OUR SHEPHARD” “ADDICTION IS DRIVING YOUR BEHAVIOR!” CAN BE MUCH WIDER THAN NARROWED EXAMPLES GENE FOR ADDICTION --DENY COMPLIANCE- CONTINUE USE TO GET MY LIFE BACK.-- OR DISCONTINUE USE FOREVER, BE THE SHEEP INSTEAD OF THE HERDER! --BELIEVE THIS IS REAL AND THAT THEY HAVE CONTROL OVER MAN-KIND SUPPOSEDLY DOCUMENTARIES ON POLICE CONTROL, SHEEPLE, PROHIBITION, WAR STORIES, POLICE INTERFERENCE, COPS, RENO 911. GHANDI/CONFUSCIOUS/BUDDHA – GOOD POLICE/MILITARY – BLECK

DISTRESS TOLERANCE PT.3 TURNING BAD STUFF INTO GOOD ENERGY - SUBLIMATION ALTERNATE REBELLION WHEN ADDICTIVE BEHAVIORS ARE A WAY TO REBEL AGAINST AUTHORITY, TRY ALTERNATE REBELLION WHICH IS A WAY TO DO SOMETHING INSANE BUT WITHIN LEGAL BOUNDS - SHAVE YOUR HEAD …..GIRLS ALL CAME IN FORMAL ATTIRE, FOO FOO GIRLS URGE TO DROP ACID… REGULARE FOLK – GO DO IT! CONTROLLED FOLK – HYSTERIA, OMG, I CAN’T EVEN. HUH.

ADAPTIVE DENIAL REFRAME YOUR CRAVINGS. COOKIES – WHEN I WANT A COOKIE, THINK THAT YOU WANT AN APPLE INSTEAD WHEN I FEEL URGE TO SMOKE A TOBACCO, LIFT WEIGHTS INSTEAD ANOTHER INTERESTING EXAMPLE OF SUICIDIAL PEOPLE: WHEN I FEEL LIKE DYING, SLIT WRISTS INSTEAD GET URGES TO DRIVE BUT SAY, YOU CANNOT BECAUSE YOU ARE AN ADDICT

*POP SELF WITH RUBBER BAND* *SQUISH BALL* *GONNA DEFEND MYSELF…. BASEBALL BAT…. BOTTLE TO CRACK… BREAK THINGS* SELF-CONTROL… SLEEP-DEPRIVATION…… CRY “GO FOR A WALK AT 6 AM AND THAT IS COOL” – A PUN.. “I LIKE SUN ON MY BONES”

BURNING BRIDGES SLAM THE GARAGE DOOR OF ABSTINENCE SHUT LIST EVERYTHING THAT MAKES ADDICTION POSSIBLE AND GET RID OF IT… -GET RID OF MY WHOLE SELF-  “I AM A  BONG” LIST AND DO EVERYTHING YOU CAN THAT WILL MAKE IT IMPOSSIBLE FOR YOU TO NOT USE -STAYING ALIVE- WAS HOLDING ONTO FRIEND’S MONEY…. “I DON’T HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF HER”.. CODEPENDENCY TELL EVERYONE YOU HAVE QUIT!! BUILDING NEW BRIDGES SMELLS TO THINK ABOUT – MY COLOGNE I LIKE NOTHING “RECOVERY HAS SHOWN ME THAT I CAN BREAK THE PATTERN” – URGE TO DRINK BREATHING PHILANTHROPY! EMOTIONAL REGULATION DISTRESS BUTTON WHAT WILL I TAKE AWAY FROM IT “I COULDN’T CHANGE INTO THE SPIRAL” “DO YOUR BEST TO STAY OPEN-MINDED” “I CAN STAY SOBER” FIND THE MAGIC MOMENT – “BACK TO THE TRACKS I GO”

EMOTIONS – POWER – ANGER – “WHY ME?”  ->->-> DISTRESS “STOP TRYING TO CHANGE THE UNCONTROLLABLE OR WE COULD SPEND ALL DAY TRYING TO CHANGE THE CONTROLLABLE” TRYING TO CHANGE A BEHAVIOR LAWS APPLICABLE TO THE DEAD DON’T PERTAIN TO ME

WILLINGNESS WILLINGNESS IS ACTING WITH AWARENESS THAT YOU ARE PART OF THE UNIVERSE DOING JUST WHAT IS NEED – GETTING HERE AND SHOWING UP TO GROUP WILLINGNESS VS WILLFULNESS WILLFULLNESS IS WRECKLESS DEFIANCE FOR EXAMPLE, IF YOU HAVE A DRUG DEALER THAT YOU SHOULD DELETE, BUT YOU DON’T WILFULLNESS IS “I WILL NOT TAKE MY MENTAL HEALTH MEDICATION” IT IS NOT CARING ABOUT THE CONSEQUENCES AND IT IS NOT RATIONAL WILLINGNESS IS: “I AM WILLING TO OBEY THE LAW!!” WILLFUL: MY KIDS CAN NOT BE INDEPENDENT THOSE PEOPLE DO NOT KNOW WHAT THEY ARE TALKING ABOUT “I WENT TO A MEETING AND SOME BORING OLD HAG WAS TELLING HER LIFE STORY. I LEFT BECAUSE I DIDN’T WANT TO HEAR A LIFE STORY…. I WANTED TO HAVE A GROUP DISCUSSION!!” SITUATIONS WHERE I NOTICE MY OWN WILLFULNESS: FEEL IT WON’T MAKE A DIFFERENCE --NOT DOING MY CHORES-- SITUATIONS WHERE I NOTICE MY OWN WILLINGNESS: GO ANYWAY AND TRY TO…. SEE A ‘CHANGE’?? ‘FOR BETTER OR WORSE??’ REFUSE TO TOLERATE WILLFULLNESS

“SOME PEOPLE WITH SET TESTING WILL DRINK AROUND THE TESTS. I WAS AT THE STORE AND REALLY WANTED TO GRAB A CASE TO GET DRUNK WITH MY GIRL”

MINDFULNESS OF CURRENT THOUGHTS: I AM FEELING STRESS, ANXIETY DON’T ACT ON THOUGHTS =) ANXIETY ATTACKS – MEDICATION – SHOWER – COFFEE ADOPT A CURIOUS MIND CRACK DREAMS – DREAMS OF SMOKING CRACK “YES, I AM AN ADDICT, BUT THAT DOES NOT MEAN I NEED TO GO USE TODAY” “LIKE, OH, I MIGHT GO MURDER SOMEONE..” GETTING HIGH TO EAT COOKIES MIND LIKE A TEFLON PAN, SHIT GETS ON THE PAN BUT WILL EASILY GET OFF TREES HAVE STRONG HEAVY ROOT SYSTEMS THERE IS WEED KILLER DON’T WASTE DAY ON SHITTY SHIT

CATASTROPHIC THINKING IS “EMOTION MIND”

-CONTROL- -ROBOTISIZE- -HEAP PEOPLE INTO ORGANIZATION- -DON’T LET THEM OUT OF THE BOX YOU HAVE CREATED THEM- -BLACK/WHITE ROBOTIC, ALL OF THE SAME- -SAME ACTIONS, SAME SPEECH, SAME THOUGHTS- -IN UNIFORM IN LINES FOLLOWING A LEADER- -IDENTICAL- -NO SPONTANEITY OF ACTION OR EMOTION- -MAKE SURE THEIR DOPAMINE, GLYCERIDES AND TRIGLYERIDES ARE ALL EXACTLY THE SAME, IN ORDER-          MONO UNIVERZ: A PLACE FOR EVERYTHING AND EVERYTHING IN ITS PLACE. MISSION CONTROL UNDERSTANDING THE BRAIN’S CENTRAL CONTROL SYSTEM IF YOU CANNOT HAVE HAPPINESS CONTROLLED, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE SAD, BUT IF YOU ALREADY HATE YOURSELF THEN USING DRUGS COULDN’T BE TOO BAD BECAUSE YOU WERE ALREADY A SAD SACK OF EMPTY FLESH. LIFE SUCKS, THEN YOU DIE. LIMBIC: EMOTION, MEMORY, MOTIVATION, AND OTHER FUNCTIONS CRITICAL TO SURVIVAL. INCLUDES HIPPOCAMPUS, (MEMORY), AMYGDALA (FEAR/EMOTIONS), VENTRAL STRATIUM (REWARD), HYPOTHALAMUS (APPETITE, THIRST, BODY TEMPERATURE), AND PARTS OF THE CORTEX! CEREBRAL CORTEX: AWARENESS, ATTENTION TO SURROUNDINGS, ABILITY TO THINK, SOLVE PROBLEMS, PLAN AND MAKE DECISIONS! CEREBELLUM: CONTROL, COORDINATION, MUSCLES AND BALANCE, POSTURE! BRAIN STEM: BASIC FUNCTIONS, BREATHING, SLEEPING, HEART RATE! THE LIMBIC SYSTEM , THE PLEASURE CENTER THAT BRINGS YOU JOY FROM DRUGS

ABUSING SEDATIVES AND PAINKILLERS CAN SLOW BREATING PARTS OF BRAIN AFFECTED OVER TIME WITH DRUG USE: AMYGDALA, CEREBELLUM STEROIDS AND METH CAN LEAD TO AGGRESSION MARIJUANA AND ALCOHOL CAN AFFECT MOVEMENT AND COORDINATION COMBINING SEDATIVES WITH ALCOHOL CAN SLOW HEART RATE MARIJUANA IMPAIRS THE ABILITY TO THINK CLEARLY! CEREBRAL CORTEX DOESN’T FULLY DEVELOP UNTIL A PERSON IS ABOUT 25. WHY IS IT IMPORTANT FOR TEEN TO KNOW TO AVOID DRUGS? BECAUSE THEY WISH TO USE THEIR BRAINS FOR THEIR FUTURE LIVES CHICKS WILL DIG THEM. THEY WILL MAKE BABIES AND MONEY. AHH, WITHOUT BRAIN USE YOU WILL NEVER HAVE A CHICK AND THAT WILL MEAN NO BABY AND NO MONEYS =( PLUS, EVEN IF YOU DON’T WANT BABIES OR ANY CHICKS, YOU WILL STILL NEED YOUR BRAIN TO MANAGE YOUR EMOTIONS AND CONTROL YOUR LEVEL OF HAPPINESS (E.G. PROZAC)

DRUG KILL NUERONS BUT YOU CAN GROW BACK BRAIN CELLS OVER TIME WITH SOBRIETY.

 THE MIND IS AN OVERGROWN JUNGLE STFU AND DEAL GANGLI CHALLENGE THE NEGATIVITY TOUGHIE B/C HE DIDN’T WANT TO ACCEPT FORGE NEW PATHS --YOU CANNOT DO DRUGS AT THIS MOMENT IN TIME, YOU MUST STAY IN HIDING-- “WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO ME LIKE THAT?” ONE BEER WON’T HURT YOU! BUT PAUSED BEFORE TWO. DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO SO SHE WENT TO A.A. --WHAT IS A WORD FOR NONCOMPLIANCE TO A POLICE – A SEPARATE CHARGE?? “RESISTING ARREST.”-- WOMAN IN JAIL’S HEROIN CHARGE… DROPPED FROM DISTUBUTING LOADS OF HEROIN TO CONSPIRACY AGAINST THE GOVERNMENT. ALIEN IMMIGRANTS

TRIGGERS DENIAL, BOREDOM, LONELINESS RELAPSE JUSTIFICATION -> “I’LL JUST TAKE ONE”, A MINIMIZING STATEMENT SWAP SUBSTANCES AIDS IN RELAPSE “IF YOU BEEN IN TROUBLE 2X THEN YOU ARE LIKELY TO BE IN TROUBLE A THIRD TIME” ROADBLOCKS TO RECOVERY: I DON’T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT RECOVERY I DON’T THINK STAFF CAN HELP I DON’T TRUST THE STAFF “THE WORLD AROUND US IS CHANGING” HAVE AN EXIT PLAN: WOULD ALWAYS DRIVE AFTER DRINKING, SO STARTED CALLING SISTER CALL SOMEONE TO HELP

IT GETS WORSE AND WORSE THE MORE YOU RELAPSE YOU HAVE COME SO FAR AND DON’T WANT TO HAVE TO START ALL OVER FEMALE HOMES: THE RISING SUN, WHITE SUN ACTIVE RECOVERY AIDS IN REDISCOVERING OURSELVES HE WOULD PUT ALL HIS DRUGS DOWN THE TOILET WHEN HE WAS RAIDED DO NOT CHOOSE TO THINK OF DRUGS/ALCOHOL TRIGGERS…. THOUGHT LEADS TO USE. PAUSE AND STOP THOUGHTS RELAXATION…CRAVINGS..CRAMPING….BREATHING

 EMOTIONAL MIND AND RATIONAL MIND ARE AT A “CONSTANT TUG-A-WAR” WORKING ON ACCEPTANCE AND CHANGE “IT IS IN THE DRUG DEALER’S BEST INTEREST THAT YOU USE.” WHAT IS VALIDATION? UNDERSTANDING HOW SOMEONE FEELS USING NO BLAME GAMES. VALIDATING SOMEONE CAN MAKE THEM FEEL WORTHY SOME STEADY NERVES WITH ALCOHOL – “LIKE A SURGEON” DBT IS FOR THOSE WHO WANT TO THINK DIFFERENTLY DBT SKILLS LIST MINDFULLNESS: OBSERVE, DESCRIBE, PARTICIPATE, NON-JUDGEMENTAL STANCE, ONE-MINDFULLY, EFFECTIVELY DISTRESS TOLERANCE, CRISIS SURVIVAL: WISE MIND ACCEPTS, SELF-SOOTHE, IMPROVE THE MOMENT, HALF-SMILE, CREATIVE OUTLET ACCEPTING REALITY SKILLS: PROS/CONS, RADICAL ACCEPTANCE, TURN THE MIND, WILLINGNESS PLEASE, BUILD MASTERY, JUST ACT, GIVE MYSELF CREDIT, BUILD POSITIVE EXPERIENCES, OPPOSITE TO EMOTION, FEEL YOUR FEELINGS INTERPERSONAL EFFECTIVENESS SKILLS: ATTEND TO RELATIONSHIPS, GIVE, DEAR MAN, FAST --THE SECOND COMING OF JESUS CHIRST-- STOPPED AND LISTENED AND DIDN’T THINK ON WHAT NEEDED TO SAY NEXT DON’T TAKE THINGS NEGATIVELY AND DON’T REACT ON THINGS

700,000 YEARS OF WILLFUL LAWLESSNESS --BLANK RESUME—WALKING, TALKING, COMMUNICATING ARE SOFT SKILLS… BEING PERSONAL, BEING POLITE, SMILING WISE MIND BRINGS LEFT BRAIN AND RIGHT BRAIN TOGETHER – THE MIDDLE PATH REASONABLE MIND IS COOL AND RATIONAL, TASK FOCUSED EMOTION MIND IS HOT, MOOD-DEPENDENT AND EMOTION-FOCUSED ANGER IS A SECONDARY EMOTION TO BEING HURT PAINFUL EMOTIONS CAN CAUSE YOU TO JUMP THE GUN AND JUMP INTO DRUGS USE FOR BAD FEELINGS LINEHAN AND LACKING AN EMOTIONAL SKIN LIKENING IT TO A BURN VICTIM WHO FEELS PAIN AT THE SLIGHTEST TOUCH OVER TIME OF BEING CRITISIZED ON THEIR EMOTIONS THEY SHOULD BEGAN TOFEEL THEY SHOULD HAVE DIFFERENT EMOTIONS AND THEIR EMOTIONS ARE NOT VALID, THEY HAVE TO CHANGE WHO THEY ARE OR THEY ARE JUST OVER-REACTING THEY WILL REJECT OR PUNISH THEMSELVES

ROADBLOCKS TO RECOVERY IN ORDER TO GET OVER A ROADBLOCK YOU HAVE TO WORK ON IT ATTITUDES -I’M ONLY IN TREATMENT BECAUSE OF OTHERS AND I DON’T WANT IT FOR MYSELF --WHO WOULD WANT TO CHANGE ME??-- -I DON’T LIKE TAKING MEDICATIONS PERSONALITY -I DON’T WANT OTHERS TELLING ME WHAT TO DO PERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS -I DON’T FEEL CLOSE TO ANYONE -I DON’T LIKE TO LISTEN TO AUTHORITY FIGURES LIFESTYLE -MY LIFESTYLE CENTERS AROUND GETTING OR USING CHEMICALS -MY LIFE IS A DRAG AND I DON’T HAVE MUCH TO DO THAT IS REWARDING OR FUN OTHER -FINANCIAL DIFFICULTIES -FEEL I’M IN A BAD SITUATION AND WILL ONLY PUT ME IN A MORE PESSIMISTIC FRAME OF MIND

WAYS TO OVERCOME ROADBLOCKS #1: I’M ONLY IN TREATMENT BECAUSE OF OTHERS AND I DON’T WANT IT FOR MYSELF IN ORDER TO OVERCOME THIS ROADBLOCK: HIDE MYSELF FROM OTHERS. DON’T MAKE A NUISANCE, LEAVE HOME AND REMAIN AN ANONYMOUS INVISIBLE BEING.. CHANGE MY NAME AND DISOWN MY GUARDIANS.. “DO NOTHING, SAY NOTHING, BE NOTHING.” MAYBE THEY CAN FIND OTHER WAYS TO ENTERTAIN THEMSELVES OTHER THAN ME AND MY DEAL AND FORGET ME AS I HAVE FORGOTTEN MYSELF. #2: I DON’T WANT OTHERS TELLING ME WHAT TO DO. IN ORDER TO OVERCOME THIS ROADBLOCK: MY FREEDOMS ARE STRIPPED. I CANNOT LEAVE HOME. MY GOALS/PLANS HAVE BEEN POSTPONED. I AM NOT A FOLLOWER. I STILL DO NOT KNOW WHY I AM DOING THESE PROGRAMS. WHICH IS WHY I CONTINUOUSLY ASK WHO/WHAT I AM DOING TREATMENT FOR. WHEN I DO NOT STUDY I DO NOT FEEL LIKE MYSELF. WHICH IS WHY I SAY I DO NOT KNOW WHO I AM ANYMORE. IT APPEARS I FEEL OVERCONTROLLED, LIKE A RAT IN A CAGE WITH NO FREEDOMS. I MAY NOT BE HUMAN ANYMORE MORE LIKE A BREATHING ZOMBIE. THROUGH TREATMENT I HAVE FELT IT GREATLY INTERFERES WITH MY STUDYING AND HOBBIES. I DO NOT HAVE FAITH IN THESE PEOPLE AND THEIR SYSTEMS/WAY OF LIFE. I WANT NO PLACE IN THEIR TOWN.

ADDICTION/RECOVERING YOUR HONESTY. LIES: I LIED TO ATTORNEY/P.O. EXAMPLE: I TOLD THEM I WASN’T DRIVING WHEN THEY ARRESTED ME. I WAS ARRESTED WHEN I WAS PULLED OVER/PARKED AND NOT DRIVING UNDER THE INFLUENCE. I TOLD THEM I DIDN’T START DRINKING UNTIL WELL AFTER I WAS PARKED, BECAUSE MY CAR RAN OUT OF GAS. I HAD THE BEER, OPENED IT WAS WAITING ON MY RIDE BUT IT WAS A COLD NIGHT AND NEEDED A DRINK TO WARM ME UP AMIDST THE WAIT. SHE SAID IT DIDN’T MATTER IF I WASN’T DRIVING, IF I HAD THE KEY IN THE IGNITION AND WAS IN THE DRIVER’S SEAT, THEY CANNOT BELIEVE YOU WEREN’T PREVIOUSLY DRIVING OR ABOUT TO DRIVE. WELL, TRUTHFULLY, I WAS NOT ABOUT TO DRIVE BECAUSE I WAS ALL OUT OF GASOLINE AND MY CAR WOULDN’T EVEN START, LET ALONE DRIVE. TRUTHFULLY, I HAD THE KEY IN THE IGNITION TO KEEP THE LIGHTS ON BECAUSE IT WAS DARK AND TO HAVE MY HAZARD SIGNALS ON BECAUSE I THOUGHT THEY WOULDN’T BLINK WITHOUT KEY IN IGNITION. BUT I LIED SAYING I WASN’T DRIVING AFTER DRINKING BECAUSE I HADN’T STARTED UNTIL AFTER I PARKED. TRUTHFULLY, I HAD BEEN DRIVING AFTER DRINKING, BUT I HAD NOT DRANK IN TWO HOURS AND HAD ONLY DRUNK ROUGHLY 2 BEERS. I THOUGHT I COULD FIGHT AGAINST MY CHARGES WITH THE EVIDENCE THAT THE POLICE NEVER ACTUALLY SAW ME DRIVING AND THEY HAD NO WAY TO TELL WHEN I HAD DRANK. I DIDN’T FIGHT IT BECAUSE I WAS YOUNG AND SCARED AND FIGURED NO ONE WOULD BE ON MY SIDE IF THEY SAW ME, BEING A LESBIAN AND ALL. I KNEW MOST OF THE JURY WOULD PROBABLY BE DESCRIMANATORY, JUDGEMENTAL FOLK SO I DID NOT ATTEMPT TO FIGHT MY FIRST DUI CHARGE. I HAD NO IDEA I WOULD BE TAKEN AWAY A SECOND TIME. OBVIOUSLY THE POLICE DIDN’T CARE. I WAS GRABBED AND SHOVED IN THEIR CAR. IT DID NOT LOWER MY FINES OR LESSEN MY CONSEQUENCES TO TELL THE ATTORNEY AND MY P.O. I WASN’T DRINKING BEFORE I WAS PARKED. THEN AGAIN, I DID NOT KNOW THE CONSEQUENCES WOULD BE SO DREADFUL OR I WOULD HAVE PROBABLY WENT TO TRIAL TO FIGHT THE CHARGE, OTHERWISE JUST TOO NAÏVE AND YOUNG TO GO TO TRIAL, I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD GO TO JAIL SO I HAD NO IDEA WHAT TO DO. NOW I JUST PAY AND HOPE FOR THE BEST.

*SOME WILL LIE TO MAKE YOUR DRUG USE NOT SEEM AS BAD AS IT IS. SOME LIE TO LOVED ONE OR SPOUSES SAYING THEY ARE NOT ‘USING.’

OTHER LIES I HAVE LIED TO MY SCHOOL. I HAVE TOLD THEM I WAS SICK ALTHOUGH I WAS JUST TRUANT.. BUT I DIDN’T CARE IF I GRADUATED. I HAVE LIED TO MY FAMILY… I HAVE TOLD THEM THAT I LOVE THEM

EXAMPLES OF MY SNEAKY, DISHONEST BEHAVIOR I WOULD USE MARIJUANA FREQUENTLY. I WOULD SPEND MONEY MY MOM WOULD GIVE ME ON WEED, WHICH I ACTUALLY FOUND OUT IS A TYPE OF FINANCIAL ABUSE. I HAD DONE THIS SINCE HIGH SCHOOL WHEN SHE WOULD GIVE ME LUNCH MONEY AND INSTEAD OF BUYING LUNCH, I WOULD BUY WEED. I WAS IN DESPERATION BECAUSE I COULD NOT FIND A JOB AND MARIJUANA WAS THE ONLY THING THAT MADE ME LESS DOWN IN THE DUMPS, SO I HAD A NICE ROUTINE OF BORROWING MONEY AND LIGHTING UP SO I COULD FEEL LESS LIKE TRASH. I DID NOT UNDERSTAND AT THE TIME THAT SHE WAS NEVER VERY WELL OFF AND DID NOT HAVE EXTRA MONEY TO BE USING ON MY DRUG USE. I JUST REMEMBER BEING A GIRL AND THINKING SHE WAS SO RICH AND SMART THAT SHE HAD PLENTY AND ME ASKING FOR SOME EVERY SO OFTEN REALLY WOULDN’T HURT HER FINANCES. I WOULD SAY “WELL I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO FIND A JOB CONSTANTLY, BUT NO ONE WILL HIRE ME. I AM GETTING LUNCH. HOW COULD ANYONE IN THE WORLD LIVE OFF 10$ A DAY? SO I’D RECEIVE MORE MOSTLY IN 5$ INCREMENTS UNTIL I’D HAVE ENOUGH FOR A 10$ SACK AND A HALF TANK OF GAS. THE TEN SACK WAS ABOUT A GRAM AND WOULD LAST ME 2-3 DAYS. I WAS UNEMPLOYED FOR 4 YEARS. DISABILITY I HAD APPLIED TO 2X, LAST IN APRIL OF 2017, THEY WOULD NOT ACCEPT ME. IT WAS ALWAYS, “YOU’RE NOT DISABLED ENOUGH OR YOU HAVEN’T WORKED ENOUGH TO RECEIVE ANY BENEFITS.” I GUESS, I PUT ON A GOOD ACT WHEN I GO TO THE DISABILITY OFFICE TO APPEAR NOT DISABLED ENOUGH. I NEVER FOUND THAT FAIR BECAUSE THERE ARE SO MANY PEOPLE RECEIVING DISABILITY AND I GUESS IT WAS TOO MUCH WORK TO GIVE BENEFITS TO JUST ONE MORE. SO I HAVE RECENT GOTTEN WORK AND AM GIVING MONEY BACK YO MY MOM. SHE MUST HAVE LOANED ME A COUPLE THOUSAND FOR DRUG/ALCOHOL/GAS MONEY. I AM TRYING TO GIVE HER ALL OF THAT BACK AND PAY OFF HER CAR. WHAT DID YOU DO WHEN YOU WERE CAUGHT LYING: HAD TO SERVE 2 YEARS PROBATION 15 DAYS IN JAIL PAY FINES OF 7,000$+

IMPACT OF YOUR DISHONESTY: I HAVE HURT THE SHADOW MAN. I HAVE UNDERMINED HIS MANHOOD AND DEMANNED HIM TO MAKE HIM ANGRY WITH ME.

HOW YOU HAVE HURT YOURSELF: BECAUSE OF MY DRINKING AND DRIVING I HAVE BEEN HELD HOSTAGE FOR 1 YEAR AND 7 MONTHS. I USED TO WALK TO LEAVE BUT THEN I ANGERED THE SHADOW MAN AND HE HURT ME SO I CAN NO LONGER LEAVE MY HOME. I WILL MOSTLY ROCK BACK AND FORTH IN THE CORNER.

FEELINGS THAT OCCURRED BECAUSE OF YOUR DISHONESTY: RATHER BY ALONE, WANT TO RUN AWAY…. SO I WOULD ROCK BACK AND FORTH IN THE CORNER AND CRY

POSITIVE EFFECTS FROM TAKING THE RISK TO BE HONEST: I CAN LEAVE THE PLACE I AM HELD HOSTAGE IN, RUN FROM THE SHADOW MAN AND NOT BE PUT IN HARMS WAY EVER AGAIN.

HOW TO BE MORE REAL WITH THE PEOPLE IN YOUR LIFE: I DON’T HAVE ANY PEOPLE IN MY LIFE

DEVELOP A GOAL FOR IMPROVING YOUR ABILITY TO BE HONEST IN RECOVERY. DEVELOP A PLAN TO BE MORE AND MORE HONEST WITH YOURSELF AND OTHERS: STOP DRINKING AND DRIVING DO WHAT MAKES ME HAPPY GET OUT OF HARMS WAY

DENIAL AND SUBSTANCE ABUSE MAY CAUSE YOU TO NOT SEE THINGS THE WAYS OTHERS SEE THEM. NOT NOTICE THEY ARE WRECKING HAVOC ON YOUR LIFE. MAY NOT SEE THEIR USE AS A PROBLEM, LIKE OTHERS DO. DENIAL KEEPS THE PROBLEM GOING. DENIAL IS CAUSED BY FEAR. PEOPLE ARE AFRAID IF THEY ASK FOR HELP AND ADMIT THEY HAVE A PROBLEM PEOPLE WILL LABEL THEM AS “WEAK” “CRAZY” OR “A BAD PERSON” ENABLING IS WHEN OTHERS SEE THE USER HAS A PROBLEM BUT DOES NOT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT TYPES OF DENIAL 1) MINIMIZING – SOMEONE MAKES SOMETHING BIG SEEM SMALL. “IT IS JUST MARIJUANA IT IS THE SAME AS BEING SOBER, BUT ENHANCED.” “AT LEAST I WAS NOT SLAMMING.” OR I.E. “I ONLY SMOKE WEED A FEW TIMES A WEEK.”

2) RATIONALIZING – USES REASONS OR EXCUSES TO USE “IT’S MY WAY.” “WELL, IF IT WERE LEGAL, I WOULD USE.” “USE IS A THING OF LIFE.” “IT HAS HEALTH BENEFITS.” “IT MAKES YOU FEEL BETTER” “I’M ALREADY LATE SO I WILL CONTINUE USING” TEXTBOOK: “IT IS MY BIRTHDAY, SO IT IS OK TO GET DRUNK.”

3)BLAMING – AVOIDING RESPONSIBILITY FOR OUR CHOICES BY POINTING FINGER, LIKE OTHERS CAUSE OUR PROBLEMS. “THEY PROVIDED IT AND OFFERED.” “WIFE USED ME TO DO BUSINESS.” “IT’S YOUR FAULT.” “FUCK THE POLICE.” “HEALTHCARE PROVIDED HIM WITH THE MEDICATION…. FOR MANY YEARS” TEXTBOOK: “MY PARENTS WON’T STOP NAGGING ME SO I GET HIGH.”

4)LYING – WEAVE A COMPLEX WEB TO COVER LIES. LIE ABOUT USE. EASY TO LIE. “IF I WAS CONFRONTED ABOUT LYING, I WOULD NOT DENY IT… I CALLED UP A COP ONCE AND ASKED HIM TO TAKE ME IN.” “BECAUE YOU SAW ME WITH IT, I’M NOT GOING TO BS YOU.” WOULD LIE TO WIFE ABOUT USE. TEXTBOOK: WHEN WE ARE AT A USING PARTY, WE SAY, “I WAS JUST AT A FRIENDS HOUSE!”

5)INTELLECTUALIZING OR COMPARING – COMPARE TO OTHERS TO MAKE OUR PROBLEMS SEEM SMALLER. “THEY DO NOT HARASS THE RICH FOLK IN THE MCMANSIONS.” “WELL, WHY CAN’T I USE?” “THEY HAVE NO SOULS ANYWAY AND JUST SPEND ALL THEIR MONEY ON DRUGS. WHAT DIFFERENCE WOULD IT MAKE. FOR WHOM ARE WE TRYING TO STOP RANDOM USERS FROM USE?” “SO & SO LIVED IN A TENT, I DID NOT.”

6)DIVERTING – CHANGING THE TOPIC WHEN ASKED ABOUT USE. “WHERE YOU USING LAST NIGHT?” “WHAT DO YOU THINK!!!” LOOK AT HER AND WALK OFF. “HEY IT’S MY LIFE. YOU DON’T MATTER ANYWAY.” “DO I KNOW YOU?” ONE PERSON’S TENT IS ANOTHER’S PALM TREE. TEXTBOOK: “YOU CAN HOME PRETTY LATE LAST NIGHT” “WELL, DID ANYONE CALL FOR ME?”

7)ANGER – EXPLODE WITH ANGER WHEN CONFRONTED “DAMN YOU! YOU MUST BE THE HIGH AND MIGHTY ALL POWERFUL!!” “WHO ARE YOU TO TOUCH MY PROPERTY!!” ANGRY IF I WAS HIDING DRUGS AND SOMEONE WAS SNOOPING. ANGRY WIFE SO HE DISSOCIATED

HOW TO HELP OVERCOME DENIAL. IT IS POSSIBLE!  CONFRONT THEM WHEN THEY USE THOSE TYPES OF STRATEGIES. YOU WILL KNOW THEY ARE CURED WHEN!!! OPENLY ACKNOWLEDGES EXISTENCE OF SUBSTANCE ABUSE PROBLEM…. “YEAH, I USE.” ACCEPST RESPONSIBILITH FOR THEIR CHOICES AND BEHAVIORE…. “MY BAD HOMIE.” LESS DEFENSIVE AND MORE OPEN….. “WOULD YOU CARE TO JOIN ME?” SEES CONNECTION BETWEEN USE AND LIFE PROBLEMS… “NOW THAT I USE I CANNOT BUY A MANSION” INCREASE IN HONESTY……… “I USE FREQUENT AND PREFER IT TO SOBRIETY.. AFTER TRYING BOTH WAYS.” DEALS WITH PROBLEMS WITH CONTINUED POSITIVE ACTIONS…… “I WON’T USE EVERY DAY.” MY CHOICE..NO BIG DEAL

THE LAST TIME I USED WISHFUL THINKING WAS WHEN: I WISHED I HAD A MILLION DOLLARS WHEN IN REALITY: YOU EITHER HAVE TO WORK FOR MANY YEARS OR BE A VERY SPECIAL PERSON TO RECEIVE A MILLION DOLLARS. THE LAST TIME I ISOLATED WAS WHEN: I LOCK MYSELF AWAY WHEN IN REALITY: YOU WILL NEVER BE ALL ALONE AS YOU WOULD LIKE THE LAST TIME I USED DEFIANCE WAS WHEN: I PUNCHED A HOLE IN THE WALL.   “I FIGHT MYSELF, BUT I LOSE.” WHEN IN REALITY: NOW IT LOOKS BAD PROVIDES ME WITH A NEGATIVE MOOD WHEN I REALIZE I CANNOT FIX IT PERFECTLY. I HAVE TO PAYTO FIX IT AND DON’T EVEN KNOW IF ANYONE ELSE COULD FIX IT PERFECTLY. THE LAST TIME I USED MY OWN DEPENDENCY WAS WHEN: SINCE I CAN’T DRIVE, I WALKED 1000 MILES IN 8-10 MONTHS… TO MARKETS TO FEED MYSELF. WHEN IN REALITY: I COULD HAVE JUST DROVE WITHOUT HAVING THIS CHARGE! THE LAST TIME I MINIMIZED WAS WHEN: THIS USE OF A LIL WEED I HAVE LEFT WON’T HURT ME WHEN IN REALITY: WANT MORE WHEN I RUN OUT THE LAST TIME I RATIONALIZED WAS WHEN: “I CAN FIX IT” WHEN IT REALITY: TAKES HARD WORK TO FIX A THING THE LAST TIME I USED BARGAINING: IF YOU DOTHIS JOB WITH ME I WILL BE ABLE TO PAY YOU BACK, PAY OFF YOUR LOAN, YOU WILL NOT BE BEHIND AND IT IS A STEADY INCOME WHEN IN REALITY: IT WILL NEVER BE ENOUGH MONEYTO GET ANYTHING ACCOMPLISHED.. HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT GOING BACK ON UNEMPLOYMENT LINE AGAIN. THE WORST PLACE TO BE.

STINKING THINKING WHAT DOES STINKING THINKING MEAN TO YOU? SUCKS TO HAVE BRAIN LIST NEGATIVE THOUGHTS ON RECOVERY. WASTE OF MY VERY LIMITED TIME ALIVE OPPOSITE OF WHAT I NEED TO ACCOMPLISH THEY GOT ME INTO THIS CRAP AGAIN? WHO AM I DOING THIS FOR? --RECOVERY IS TOO HARD AND NOT WORTH IT-- --GRADUATED BEFORE BUT KEPT USING HAD TO REDO-- HAVE YOU EVER USED LIP SERVICE TO APPEASE YOUR COUNSELOR? …YOU LOOK GOOD TODAY, WHATEVER, BALOONEY. OR “I AM DOING QUITE FINE!!!” HAVE YOU EVER LIED ABOUT YOUR RECOVERY? DON’T BRING UP SPORADIC USE… KEEP SOBER DATE AS NEW YEARS 2017, BUT I HAVE USED SPORADICALLY SINCE. DO YOU BELIEVE THAT YOU DON’T HAVE TO FOLLOW ALL THE RULES ALL THE TIME? ..OF WHOM AM I FOLLOWING THIS RULE FOR??.. DO YOU FIND YOURSELF REPEATING SLOGANS ABOUTYOUR RECOVERY IN HOPES OF WINNING APPROVAL? ..”YOU CAN DO IT!” DO YOU BELIEVE ONE DAY YOU CAN BECOME A SOCIAL DRINKER? SOCIALIZING WHO NEEDS IT.. WHAT IS UNREALISTIC BELIEF OR GOAL YOU HAVE? MOVE..ERASE THE LAST YEARS OF MY LIFE.. ERASE MY WHOLE EXISTENCE FROM EVER HAPPENING… ERASE THE COP INTERFERENCES.. ERASE MY MISSED CHANCES GO BACK AND DO IT AGAIN BEFORE EVERYTHING BECOMES SO PAINFUL AND TRAUMATIC. ARE RULES JUST FOR FOOLS? WHOSE RULES? NOTHING MATTERS. WHAT DID RULES HELP ANYONE ACHIEVE? TOTAL CONTROL? A BETTER WORLD? WHO KNOWS. DESCRIBE SOME CORNER CUTTING THAT YOU HAVE DONE RECENTLY. I HAVE FORGOTTEN WHO I AM DESCRIBE HOW YOU ARE CHEATING ON YOUR RECOVERY. MINIMIZE IT AS A RECOVERY I DO NOT NEED DO YOU FEEL OTHER PEOPLE ARE RUNNING YOUR LIFE? I AM IN THEIR GOVERNMENTALLY STRUCTURED CLASS TODAY. --FOR WHOM BY WHOM?—I HAVE NOT LIVED UP TO MY FULL POTENTIAL IN 2 YEARS. I HAVE NOT BEEN HAPPY OR FOUND MEANING OR SPIRITUAL FULFILLMENT IN THESE 2 YEARS. DO YOU MAKE PROMISES WITH NO INTENTION OF CHANGING? NO DO I SOMETIMES FEEL THAT MY COUNSELOR IS A FOOL? DOESN’T MATTER WOULD BE CHAOS WITHOUT RULES LIST FIVE WAYS YOU HAVE ACTED IMMATURE IN THE PAST WEEK. I HAVE CRIED. WHAT DOES “HE’S ALL TALK” MEAN? DOES THIS DESCRIBE YOU? NOTHING TO SHOW FOR – EMPTY WORDS- TALK IS CHEAP DESCRIBE HOW YOU ARE SNEAKY AND MANIPULATIVE. I STOLE MY MOM’S CAR WHEN SHE WAS ON VACATION TO SEE ONE OF MY FAVORITE ROCK BANDS IN CONCERT IN LAS VEGAS. I WAS LEFT HERE IN A PILE OF DIRT. I DIDN’T WANT TO BE HERE SO I TOOK THE CAR AND WENT TO HUNTINGTON AND BOUGHT WEED FROM THE REC SHOP. ADDICTION SIGNS AND SYMPTOMS TOLERANCE: YOU NEED TO USE MORE ALCOHOL AND DRUGS TO FEEL THE DESIRED EFFECT THE SAME AMOUNT OF ALCHOL OR DRUGS DOESN’T DO WHATIT USED TO WITHDRAWL: WHEN YOU DON’T HAVE ALCOHOL OR DRUGS, YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE PHYSICALLY OR EMOTIONALLY CRAVING: YOU THINKABOUT DRUGS OR ALCOHOL FREQUENTLY LOSS OF CONTROL: YOU’VE FELT AT TIMES THAT YOU COULDN’T FIT IN OR FEEL GOOD WITHOUT ALCOHOL OR DRUGS YOU HAVE BLACKED OUT (OR HAD PERIODS OF TIME IN WHICH YOU HAVE NO MEMORY) WHEN UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF ALCOHOL OR DRUGS YOU HAVE USED ONE OR MORE DRUGS WITHOUT KNOWING WHAT IT WAS OR HOW IT WOULD AFFECT YOU. LEGAL PROBLEMS: YOU HAVE BEEN ARRESTED OR HAD OTHER LEGAL PROBLEMS AS A RESULT OF DRINKING OR USING PROBLEMS IN SOCIAL OR OCCPATIONAL FUNCTIONS: YOU HAVE NOT BEEN ABLE TO FULFILL IMPORTANT ROLE OBLIGATIONS SUCH AS HOUSEHOLD CHORES, FINANCIAL RESPONSIBILITIES, OR CARING FOR CHILDREN OR OTHER LOVED ONES, AS A RESULT OF DRINKING OR USING IMPAIRMENT OR DISTRESS RESULTING FROM USE: YOU HAVE NOT TAKEN GOOD CARE OF YOURSELF FOR EXAMPLE NOT EATING WELL OR NOT PRACTICING GOOD HYGIENE BECAUSE OF YOUR ALCOHOL OR DRUG USE

WE ALL FACE STRESS, WE ALL DON’T SMOKE CRACK THOUGH PROSECUTER FIGHT BETWEEN GOOD AND EVIL KEEP FROM GETTING COMPLACENT CANNIBANOID RECEPTORS IN BRAIN ONLY DRUG THAT ALREADY HAS RECEPTORS IN BRAIN AND RELEASES VERY SMALL AMOUNTS OF THC IN BRAIN REGULARLY CRF INJECTION --CHAVEZ DRUG LORDS… EL TORO..MEXICAN MAFIA-- DR. REASONS AND SWISS CHEESE MODEL DRANK TO SOBRIETY MOVIES – 28 DAYS, WALK THE LINE, REQUIEM FOR A DREAM MISHAP PREVENTION LEADING TO RELAPSE PREVENTION LAVIGNE HEART MCCAULLY STATE DEMIROL—MIDBRAIN STRATIUM—DOPAMINE— GLUTANINE AND GLUTAMATE FLASH FLOODS, A WET BRAIN NAVY PSYCHIATRIST—MEDICAL BOARD POLICE-- PLAN FOR RELAPSE. A MORAL DEFECT IN HIMSELF DISEASE MODEL DIVERSION PROGRAM 6 MO IN JAIL, 5 YEARS PROBATION ON CORONADO ISLAND

“I USED EVERY DAY FOR 5 YEARS, BECAUSE I DIDN’T HAVE A FUTURE. ALL I LIKE TO DO IS USE. I ONLY EVER QUIT FOR TOLERANCE. I QUIT ONCE IN THAT 5 YEARS TO SEE IF I COULD GET AS HIGH AS THE FIRST 30 TIMES. I DIDN’T SO I THOUGHT 100 DAYS WASN’T LONG ENOUGH. BUT I DIDN’T WANT TO STOP USING FOR ANY LONGER, SO BECAME A DAILY USER AGAIN.”

HOW COMMON IS DRUG AND ALCOHOL ADDICTION? APPROXIMATELY 10% OF ANY POPULATION HAS AN ADDICTION  (~ 700,000,000 PEOPLE) ADDICTION IS MORE COMMON THAN DIABETES (7%) PEOPLE ONLY STOP WHEN THEY HAVE SUFFERED ENOUGH NEGATIVE CONSEQUENCES. WHY STOP OTHERWISE? 1) ADDICTION IS PROGRESSIVE USE INCREASES IN AMOUNT AND/OR BECOMES MORE FREQUENT MORE IS NEEDED TO GET THE SAME EFFECT SEEKS MORE POWERFUL SUBSTANCES (I.E. CHANGES METHOD/TYPE OF SUBSTANCES USED) BEGINS USE IN MORNINGS, BEFORE SOCIAL EVENTS, ETC PROTECTS/HIDE STASH OBSESSION AND FANTASIZING ABOUT USE EXPERIENCES A TRUSTED RELATIONSHIP WITH THE SUBSTANCE 2) ADDICTION IS CHRONIC FINANCIAL PROBLEMS LEGAL ISSUES (DUIS, POSSESSION CHARGES, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE) 3) ADDICTION IS POTENTIALLY FATAL OVERDOSE/SUICIDE ATTEMPTS 4) ADDICTION HAS IDENTIFIABLE SYMPTOMS BLACKOUTS CHANGES IN TOLERANCE PREOCCUPATION WITH ALCOHOL/DRUGS (BEOMES MOST IMPORTANT PART OF LIFE) WITHDRAWL SYMPTOMS (TREMORS, HALLUCINATIONS, SWEATS, ANXIETY, ETC) 5) ADDICTION CAUSES LIFE DETERIORATION 6)ADDICTION IS A PRIMARY DISEASE I DIDN’T LIKE THE OTHER ME 7)ADDICTION IS PREVENTABLE ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS

FIVE COMMON PROBLEMS IN EARLY RECOVERY: NEW SOLUTIONS EVERYONE WHO TRIES TO STOP USE RUNS INTO VERY DIFFICULT SITUATIONS THAT MAKE IT DIFFICULT TO MAINTAIN SOBRIETY

PROBLEM: CONTINUING ASSOCIATION WITH OLD FRIENDS OR FRIENDS WHO USE CAN CAUSE TRIGGERS NEW ALTERNATIVE: MAKE NEW FRIENDS AT 12 STEP RECOVERIES! …….OR SPIRITUAL RECOVERY GROUPS, NEW ACTIVITIES THAT WILL ENCOURAGE YOU TO MAKE FRIENDS WITH SOBER PEOPLE

PROBLEM: ANGER OR IRRITABILITY – SMALL EVENTS MAY CAUSE ANGER THAT WILL PROMPT USING NEW ALTERNATIVE: RECOVERY INVOLVES A HEALING OF BRAIN CHEMISTRY.. MOODS WILL BE AFFECTED (ANGER MANAGEMENT CLASSES) “NOTHING HAPPENS THAT MAKES ME FEEL LIKE I NEED A DRINK”

PROBLEM: ALCOHOLIN THE HOME NEW ALTERNATIVE: GET RID OF IT ALL, IF POSSIBLE, ASK PEOPLE TO STOP USING IN THE HOME IF POSSIBLE. MOVE OUT.

PROBLEM: BOREDOM OR LONELINESS NEW ALTERNATIVE: GO BACK TO ACTIVITIES YOU ENJOYED BEFORE YOUR ADDICTION

PROBLEM: SPECIAL OCCASIONS NEW ALTERNATIVE: LEAVE, DON’T GO

1.       ARE ANY OF THESE A PROBLEM FOR YOU? GETTING ANGRY -> FEELING LIKE I AM BEING WATCHED/FOLLOWED

2.       HOW DO YOU DEAL?

TAKE A NAP. BE ALONE. REMEMBER THAT LIFE IS MEANINGLESS. BE THANKFUL AT LEAST I’M NOT SOMEONE ELSE. I.E. A LOSER.

“I CAME HERE TO STOP USING DRUGS, NOT TO STOP DRINKING.” - DRUG TREATMENT INCLUDES STOPPING ALCOHOL AS WELL. IT IS PART OF RECOVERYFROM “ADDICTION”

“I’VE DRUNK AND NOT USED SO IT DOESN’T MAKE ANY DIFFERENCE.” - DRINKING OVER TIME GREATLY INCREASES THE RISK OF RELAPSE AND READDICTION.

“DRINKING ACTUALLY HELPS. WHEN I HAVE CRAVINGS, A DRINK CALMS ME DOWN AND THE CRAVINGS GO AWAY.” - ALCOHOL INTERFERES WITH THE CHEMICALS IN THE BRAIN. CONTINUED USE OF ALCOHOL ACTUALLY INCREASES CRAVINGS, EVEN IF ONE DRINK REDUCES THEM.

“I’M NOT AN ALCOHOLIC SO WHY DO I NEED TO STOP DRINKING?” - IF YOU’RE NOT ADDICTED, YOU SHOULD HAVE NO PROBLEM STOPPING.

“I’M NEVER GOING TO USE DRUGS AGAIN, BUT I’M NOT SURE I’LL NEVER DRINK AGAIN.” - MAKE A COMMITMENT TO TOTAL ABSTINENCE! MAKE A DECISION ABOUT ALCOHOL WITH A DRUG-FREE BRAIN.

1.       HAS YOUR ADDICTED BRAIN PRESENTED YOU WITH OTHER JUSTIFICATIONS FOR DRINKING ALCOHOL? ALCOHOL IS FUN AND MAKES ME FEEL HAPPY. I HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO ANYWAY. LIFE ENDS EVENTUALLY, GOOD TO LIVE WHILE I CAN. A DAY UNHAPPY IS A DAY WASTED. ALCOHOL MAKE CELEBRATIONS HAPPIER. IF IT IS A RANDOM TUESDAY, ALCOHOL CAN MAKE IT INTO A CELEBRATION.

2.       HOW ARE YOU PLANNING TO DEAL WITH ALCOHOL ISSUES IN THE FUTURE? I WILL HOLD OFF ON GOING OVERBOARD. I USED TO DRINK SO MUCH THAT I WOULD VOMIT ABOUT 2 LITERS WORTH THEN I WOULD PASS OUT. ONE TIME I ABOUT FLOODED MY HOUSE BECAUSE I BLACKED OUT WHILE DRINKING BOUT 10 SHOTS IN A ROW. I WILL SAY I CAN ONLY HAVE 1 OR 2 DRINKS, BUT I DO NOT WANT TO ANGER MY PO OR THE POLICE BECAUSE THEY SCARE ME.

 EXTERNAL TRIGGERS QUESTIONARE

TIMES/PLACES YOU MAY USE: HOME ALONE, HOME WITH FRIENDS, FRIEND’S HOUSE, PARTIES, MOVIES, CLUBS, CONCERTS, WITH FRIENDS WHO USE DRUGS, BEFORE A DATE, DURING A DATE, BEFORE SEXUAL ACTIVITIES, DURING SEXUAL ACTIVITIES, WHEN CARRYING MONEY, DRIVING, LIQUOR STORE, AFTER PAYDAY, BEFORE GOING OUT TO DINNER, BEFORE BREAKFAST, AFTER WORK, SCHOOL, THE PARK, IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD, WEEKENDS, WHEN IN PAIN

ONCE I USED BEFORE GOING TO A CLASS PROJECT AT THE CAPITOL CITY HALL BUILDING. A BUNCH OF OLD DUDES VOTING ON LAWS

LIST OTHER TIMES YOU USE: WHEN I WAKE UP AND HAVE SHIT ELSE TO DO ALL DAMN YEAR UNTO INFINITY BECAUSE I AM UNEMPLOYED. WHEN I AM HAVING A SHITTY TERRIBLE DAY.

LIST OCCASSIONS WHERE YOU WOULD NOT USE: GOING TO CHURCH, AIRPORT, AROUND POLICE, BEFORE WORK, WHEN AROUND EMPLOYERS, DURING A COURT HEARING FOR MYSELF, DURING DRUG CLASS OR PROBATION, WHILE AT A HOSPITAL.

LIST PEOPLE YOU COULD BE WITH AND NOT USE: ANY DAMN PERSON.

WHAT EMOTIONS WOULD MAKE YOU WANT TO USE: HAPPY, CONFIDENT, PASSIONATE, RELAXED, EXCITED, BORED, LONELY….. FABULOUS

ALMOST NEVER USE: ASLEEP ALWAYS USE: AWAKE

HAVE YOU GOT IN A FIGHT RECENTLY THAT HAS MADE YOU WANT TO USE: CHECKED YES. I AM HAPPIER WHEN I USE AND I THINK IT IS A NORMAL THING TO DO. I NEVER PLANNED TO STOP USE UNTIL GOVERNMENT INTERFERED. I DID NOT SMOKE WEED FOR THE PEOPLE INVOLVED WITH THE GOVERNMENT AND I DID NOT SMOKE WEED TO BE A STATISTIC FOR HEALTHCARE REPRESENTATIVES. I SMOKED WEED FOR MYSELF AND TO MAKE MYSELF HAVE THE BEST LIFE IMAGINABLE. I AM EXCITED TO MOVE TO A LEGAL STATE AND CONTINUING SMOKING MARIJUANA. YA KNOW, SOMEWHERE IN PRIVACY THERE.

 Post Acute Withdrawal

Chinden wendys

Psychiatric Lingo

 They call it Regnerative Degenerative or INTERMITTENT

Regenerative….. it will all be better soon

Degenerative …….   Symptoms get WORSE

Intermittent ……  days when symptoms are better…..  symptoms come and go

It is ok now Now it is bad again Now it is ok Now it is bad

Traditional treatment does not treat  Most common is regenerative and then intermittent

Suicide epidemic

 The weaker your resistance begins   Tetanus   Cut yourself on a piece of rusted metal

 Lack of attention to your “recovery plan”

Stress is linchpin

  Atheist/Satanist

Irrationality YOU CAN SPEAK YOUR MIND

BUT MAKE SURE THAT EVERYONE AROUND YOU THINKS YOU ARE MAKING SENSE

 HOW DID YOU GET HERE

STRESS GUILT CONFUSION

 FIGHT A BATTLE WITHOUT A NAME

 LEARNING TO TAKE THINGS A STEP THEN ANOTHER STEP

 NOT OVER-REACTING TO THE SYMPTOMS.

 ABSITENCE ALONE DOES NOT HAVE ENOUGH TO PROVIDE YOU WITH GOOD HEALTH.

HOW MANY CALORIES DO I NEED EACH DAY NUTRITIONIST???? 5,000?

NO SUGAR AND NO CAFFIENE FOR A RECOVERING ADDICT. DO NOT SKIP MEALS

DO NOT EAT POTATO CHIPS SODA CANDY

 DO NOT DRINK FOOD THAT PRODUCE STRESS  LIKE CANDY JELLY SYRUP

LET DOWN AN HOUR LATER

 JANE A RECOVERING ALCOHOL ATE ICE CREAM EVERY NIGHT

EATING ICE CREAM HELP HER REDUCE CRAVING FOR ALCOHOL

SLUGGISH AND IRRITABLE COULD NOT GET ALONG WITHOUT IT

NO BREAKFAST

CAFFEINE CAUSE NERVOUS AND RESTLESSNESS

IRREGULAR SLEEP CAUSES IRRITABILITY

EXCERSIZE REDUCES STRESS

NATURES TRANQUILIZERS

STRETCHING AND AEROBIC.

RAISE HEART RATE TO 75% OF MAXIMUM

JOGGING SWIMMING JUMPING ROPE

ABLE TO BE MORE PRODUCTIVE

EXERCISE 3-4 TIMES A WEEK

MAKE TIME FOR EVERY DAY

EVERY DAY THAT YOU DO NOT EXERCISE YOU ARE TREATING YOURSELF

NO PAIN NO GAIN

 COPE LAUGHING PLAYING READING

Relapse fight/flight

Muscle cannot relax and tense at the same time

It is impossible to remain tense and relax

  Can imagine yourself in a better place

Spiritual divination

Gives your life purpose!!!

Peace of mind through no limitations 😊

Can reach with hope with a positive attitude

Do not have to be open to higher powers

Prayer through spirituality

  biopsychosocial

spiritually retold

wholesome living

self-fulfillment

optimum stress level

 walter was irritable and anxious

experienced more about saturday

 how did your week go???

Friday in wilder

missed 2 UAs – got a car

doesn’t like being alone

can’t get rides to his UA

has 4 classes a week

lives in meridian

thinking about how to get here on his off days

chris

relapse lost his job

new job at Wendy’s

 nueropsych test

5 hour

st. als

 major traumatic brain injury

2005

high speed rollover accident

 pole thrown at her head in the back side

 how to deal with problems when they occur

 don’t worry

be patient

 retrain your brain is rehab to be a new person

longer a peron is sober the less the symptoms become

   NA and AA

                 EARLY RECOVERY

   My use will effect them

you have to forget about them if you are putting the pipe to your mouth or you will feel guilty

I was isolated at the drug house

[fam-der-linde]

Can you post more modern/adoption au hcs I neeeeeeeed more cute dumb fluff after finishing chapter six. Maybe why Dutch and Hosea decided to adopt so many kids and what kind of situations the kids came from before they were adopted?

-The reason Dutch and Hosea adopt so many children is because they’ve seen what situations they’ve been in and can see great potential in every single one.

-The kids before getting adopted:

Arthur

He ran away once he was told he had to go to foster care after his mother passed away and his father is in jail

His mother has been sick for as long as he could remember while his father has been in and out of jail his entire life, so he never really knew him.

When he ran away he broke into Dutch and Hosea’s apartment at the time, thinking that it was an empty one.

Hosea found him hiding in the closet

As much as they didn’t want to, they had to call the police and was taken to foster care for only nine months while Dutch and Hosea had to take the right classes in order to take him home.

Bill

He was homeless at the time

Bill had targeted Dutch’s 2008 Toyota Camry that was left in an alleyway

He tried to opened the door, but it was locked, so he grabbed a brick

Before he could break a window Dutch happened to show up. “Boy, what do you think you’re doing”

Startled, Bill dropped the rock.

Then he tried to rob Dutch

Dutch just laughs at him, telling him to get lost

That made Bill mad, so he shoved Dutch, demanding his money.

Dutch just drops him, telling him to scram

Bill just kinda hangs around Dutch to the point Dutch invites him in

Karen

She ran away from her abusive father, living on the streets

She pulled scams to earn money for food

She buys lottery tickets with the weeks previous winning numbers then alters the date to seem like it’s the winning ticket

“I’ll sell this ticket to you, my dad is in the hospital and I’m too young to cash it in myself.”

A lot of people fall for it.

She tried it on Hosea while he was out shopping at the local store

Hosea knew that it was fake, but he humored her by acting like he was going to buy it.

“I’ve pulled scams like that when I was about your age.”

Karen is shocked that he could see through it

“You need to work on that poker face.”

He gives her a ten.

Tilly

She was the homeless girl in Karen’s grade

She would get bullied a lot and didn’t have friends

Karen did feel bad for her and brought her home

Karen’s friends laughed at her, thinking that it was some kinda joke

Karen introduced Tilly to the family and she’s just the sweetest girl

They had her over for dinner, and Tilly offered to clean the dishes

Dutch and Hosea wouldn’t let her, they told her to make herself at home

Karen offers Tilly some clothes she can’t wear anymore

Tilly starts tearing up and breaks down because nobody’s been so nice to her before.

Apparently Tilly’s father killed her mother then fled the scene

Tilly didn’t know what to do either so she just ran away and has been homeless ever since.

Until Dutch and Hosea took her in

Javier

He lived with his uncle his whole life until he was killed in a workplace accident

Since it was never reported that Javier lived with his uncle he wasn’t forced to go to a foster care

He bounces between being out on his own and staying in a shelter for runaways

One day Javier was attempting to steal something out of an unsuspecting woman’s purse

Little did he know that Dutch was observing him in the distance

Javier was unsuccessful and walked away empty handed

Dutch laughed at him as he was approaching him, saying that was a poor attempt

Javier just pushed past him

Dutch called after him, asking if he wanted food- that dinner would be done soon.

Lenny

Lenny’s father and Hosea have been drinking buddies for years

Lenny’s mother had passed away during child birth

Hosea and Lenny’s dad were out drinking one night, but Hosea had to get home because one of the kids were sick, leaving Lenny’s dad at the bar

Lenny’s dad made the unfortunate  choice to driving home drunk and got killed in a car accident

Knowing Hosea since he was a kid, Lenny wanted to stay with Hosea

Mary-Beth

Karen’s friend- she’s been sneaking Mary-Beth into the house for months for food, shelter, and a place to sleep

Nobody has noticed

Or that’s what they thought.

Karen went into the kitchen one afternoon to get food while Dutch was reading the newspaper at the dinning room table

Without looking up from the newspaper, Dutch says:“So… when are we going to meet your friend?”“You’ve met my friends.”“Not the one you’ve been sneaking in.”

John

Has been in foster care since he could remember

He doesn’t know much about his parents except that they died when he was young.

When he was nine he managed to escape the foster care while out on a trip

He would rather live on the streets than in foster care for one more night

He found an open shed that, obviously, belonged to the Van der Linde’s

Javier was the one who saw him go in the shed while he was looking out the kitchen window and told Dutch

Dutch didn’t hesitate to go check to confront him

John looked as bad as Arthur did when he and Hosea found him

John begged Dutch to not call the police, as he promised he didn’t steal anything

Dutch only tells him to calm down and to take a walk with him

Sean

The particular foster care system that Hosea and Dutch go through gave them a call one day

They explained that Sean could never stay in one home for too long

He had untreated ADHD that made other families think that he was a “broken kid.”

Since he was about John’s age they took him along to go meet Sean

Sean was eager to meet them

The moment Dutch met Sean he could see all the hidden potential underneath all that hyperactivity

Sean and John seemed to have gotten along

Sean promised that he wasn’t broken and he was a good kid, that he just  couldn’t focus sometimes

Sean would be a fine addition to the family

Charles

He lived in a shelter for runaways for awhile

He was out in the freezing winter trying to raise money for the shelter to get enough food for everyone who stayed there

It was Bill who answered the door and instantly told him to scram (the exact moment when Charles decided he didn’t like Bill too much)

Hosea waved Bill away, asking Charles what he was selling

They were homemade bracelets he made with whatever he could find in the supply/craft closet

Hosea told him to come in and get warm

Micah

He never lived with his parents, he ran away with his older brother and his group of friends

They would steal, break in places, do drugs, etc.

The gang saw Dutch and decided they wanted to rob him since it looked like he had money

Micah didn’t want to rob him, as Dutch  happened to show him kindness earlier in the day by spotting him some money

Micah’s brother and the gang called him a pussy and started beating him up

Dutch saw what was going on and shooed the boys away, they left Micah there

When going to comfort him, Micah broke down and started crying about how that he has nowhere to go now.

Dutch’s heart broke for the young kid and took him home

Micah does go to therapy

Sadie

She lost her family and home to a house fire

She wasn’t home at the time, she was at volleyball practice

So she feels like it’s her fault, that maybe if she was home then she could’ve saved her family

Dutch, Arthur, and Micah witnessed the house fire and Sadie at the scene

Arthur and Dutch tried comforting her Micah wasn’t helpful

Sadie said that the rest of the family disowned her mother and siblings, so she had nowhere to go. 

Arthur joked: “Aaannd we have another one.” 

Kieran

Kieran was spotted running from the Van der Linde’s neighbors house, the O'Driscolls, to their yard

Dutch saw him run into their yard, he didn’t want to deal with the O'Driscoll and told Arthur to go shoo him from the yard 

Arthur yelled at Kieran to get out of the yard

Kieran can’t hear him since the yard is so big, so Arthur chases after him

Kieran screams and starts running away, until Arthur tackled him

Dutch went out to see what was going on, demanding to know why an O'Driscoll was in his yard

Kieran kept saying that he’s not an O'Driscoll, he didn’t live with them, just just stayed there for a few nights because he was friends with one of them

Dutch then tells him to go home, but Kieran didn’t have a home or family, he was just using the O’Driscolls to have a place to sleep

Dutch wasn’t sure, but allowed Kieran to stay at their house

#Headcanons