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#disorder and terrible anxiety and my depression is relapsing

mimzy-writing-online · 3 years

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You probably know this by now, I don't know if you keep up with Whumptober, but one of the prompts this year includes "blindness". I'm not blind but based on your posts about writing blind characters, and based on how I would feel if one of my disabilities were used as a whump prompt, I'm not super comfortable with it. I was wondering what your thoughts are on blindness being a Whumptober prompt.

(unironically and with feeling) thanks, I hate it.

Yes, I’m familiar with Whumptober, but I’ve never participated myself and I haven’t seen this year’s prompts.

Edit: I later did see the prompts and check out the blog. I think it's a good set of prompts and I look forward to all the promising content, especially since some of my favorite tropes are there. To be clear before you read this, I have no problem with Whumptober2021 or whump in general. This is not the first time blindness has been included for a list of whump prompts, and it won't be the last.

This post directed at the concept of "blindness" as a whump prompt and why I think it's a bad idea. The intended audience is individual writers thinking about future projects.

The timing of this is almost too perfect because I read a fanfic earlier this week that would meet that prompt exactly. Tags included whump, blindness, and angst with a happy ending. Now whump, hurt/comfort, and angst with a happy ending are tags I enjoy reading, but blindness as whump has a specific message to it.

To explain that message, I want to discuss what whump is. Many readers are already familiar with the genre, but I think taking the specific definitions and picking apart what it means and what expectations we carry when reading whump fanfiction

Urban Dictionary defines it as: taking a character and putting them through physical and/or mental torment and is typically followed by the same character being treated for their traumas. To indicate the characters place in the situation they’d typically be called a whumpee (the character being hurt/comforted), the whumper (the character that causes harm and trauma), and the caretaker (the character designated the helping/healing/comforting the whumpee).

Fanlore has a page for whump that explains it in depth, including where it started in fanfiction, examples of whump, and even a list of “popular targets” in different fandoms. (Warning: you might find yourself called out on the popular targets list)

“The term whump (or whumping) generally refers to a form of Hurt/Comfort that is heavy on the hurt and is often found in gen stories. The exact definition varies and has evolved over time. Essentially, whump involves taking a canon character, and placing them in physically painful or psychologically-damaging scenarios. Often this character is a fan favorite…”

To add to that, I think an important detail is the distinction Fanlore makes between hurt/comfort and whump:

“While some communities and fandoms may use whump as a synonym for hurt/comfort, there is still a recognition that whump refers to darker and more extreme scenarios. And there are still whump fics been written that have very little, or no comfort at the end of the story.”

The big appeal of hurt/comfort is getting to both explore the darker sides of pain and then experience the catharsis of being taken care of, of being supported by your loved ones as you recover from the trauma. The character is the proxy for experiencing those highs and lows while you yourself are safe at home.

I personally don’t read much/any whump without some h/c involved, but I’m happy there are stories out there for people who do enjoy it. I’m not here to judge what you like reading or what you do to your characters.

What I want is to express how blindness, my disability, used as a whump prompt personally makes me feel and what message it sends to me, to others, and how that message affects my daily life.

Whump undeniably involves watching a character suffer through something painful and traumatic.

My use of the word “suffer” is what I want you to focus on.

Vision loss can be painful and traumatic. I personally developed an anxiety disorder in response to vision loss. Others experience depression. For some it might result in relapsing into old, maladaptive coping mechanisms like drug use, self harm, or eating disorders.

A big part of my anxiety was how people reacted to my vision loss. It was a cause of their stress. They were worried because they genuinely believed I would never live a happy life without normal vision, and that my life would only be struggle and pain.

I recently saw an old friend who hadn’t heard about my vision loss. The conversation was awkward, but the worst part was how they reacted as though I had experienced an insurmountable tragedy. And even when I assured them I’m happy with my life, they clearly didn’t believe me. They acted like I was just lying or in denial.

I love that people want to empathize with my situation and ask themselves what they would do in my situation, but I hate when the conclusion they come to is something along the lines of “I could never do that, I’d be too miserable thinking about everything I lost, I’d never be able to do anything I enjoyed ever again.” But I did go blind. And I’m not miserable, I’m actually happy with the direction my life is going, and I still enjoy my hobbies, even if I engage with them differently.

I’m not suffering. My life didn’t end with vision loss. It’s not ruined, broken, or worthless.

I read a fanfic that was tagged with whump, blindness, and angst with a happy ending. A general synopsis of the plot: the whumpee had gone blind due to a curse. It was true love’s kiss that broke the curse. Even from the summary I knew it was going to end with whumpee being cured somehow and that I’d leave that fanfic vaguely dissatisfied no matter how good the rest of the fanfic was.

I can say this for the fanfic: the whumpee had already accepted that they would likely be blind for the rest of their life, but everyone around them was treating it as a tragedy that needed to be fixed, working tirelessly for a cure despite the whumpee’s protests that they didn’t have to.

It actually hit home to my personal experience.

I still left it dissatisfied with the ending. I might love curse fics in that fandom, and I love the “true love’s kiss” trope, but it wasn’t enough to distract me from the fact that: an actual person out in the world thought the best happy ending, maybe the only happy ending, would be if the character got their sight back.

(note: I clicked kudos and exited out of the story's page because no fanfic writer deserves unsolicited critique or hate, especially for content I consumed for free and at my own volition.)

Why read a story I knew would disappoint me?

Because blindness representation is so damn rare that I feel like I’m wandering in a desert, dying from thirst and desperate for that oasis. But sometimes that oasis is a mirage and the author is unintentionally telling you that your life is actually awful and you’ll never be fully happy like this. And that is a shit mentality to walk through life with.

I don’t appreciate blindness being a whump plot. I hate it. Hundreds (thousands?) of fanfictions featuring blind characters are about to enter the internet and the overall message is going to be “You poor thing! You must be in so much pain, you must be miserable! Who’s going to save you? Who’s going to comfort you? Wouldn’t it be terrible if there was no one in your life to take care of you? You poor helpless thing!”

And I feel objectified. I feel trivialized. The mirage in the desert is going to become a starch, empty room filled with dozens of water bottles, almost all of them poisoned. My representation is going to hurt me personally, and it’s going to reinforce that idea strangers have about how awful my life must be.

(I returned to school this past month, and every day I’m hesitant to tell someone I’m visually impaired because I don’t want to be treated differently. If I’ve managed to pass as sighted this whole time and then suddenly reveal “oh yeah, I’m visually impaired” I feel this instant silence, this pause of awkwardness as people suddenly question how they’re supposed to treat me. They treated me like a person, and now I’m something strange and unfamiliar.)

I’ve worked so hard to improve representation for blind people, to give internet strangers the exposure to a blind person they need to normalize blindness because I hope that if they’re ever so lucky as to meet a blind person, they’ll treat that person with respect. That hope that another person in the blind community will find a friend they feel comfortable and accepted with. I hope that I’ll meet people who accept my blindness as just another aspect of me (like being bisexual or gender fluid or a writer or a cat lover).

Please don’t turn me and my community into a caricature. Don’t erase everything I’ve worked for with this blog.

To be clear, this is not just me saying "I hate the cure trope" again. This is me saying "the purpose of whump is to painfully hurt your favorite character, and I hate that your idea of pain and suffering is my daily (wonderful) life."

#blindness #whumptober #fanfiction #whump #whumptober 2021 #blind character #disability #ableism #anon

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vesvalen · 2 years

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My thoughts about Lilly or the reasons why you should look at her from the other side

TW: mental issues?

I recently finished all 4 seasons of the game and in season 1 I was angry at Lilly and couldn't stand her, but seeing her in season 4 something changed in me… It was as if I began to sympathize with her. In short: she is the same traumatized character as everyone else. But I'll just try to write a little more about it, because I want as many people as possible to understand that Lilly is not so terrible (she cannot be justified, but she can be understood). I remind you that I do not urge you to believe in this and partly this is my speculation, when the Telltale Games could not have invested much meaning in her story. Have a good read! (btw, sorry for my bad english it’s not my native language D:)

The first thing I noticed right away was the way she talks about her childhood, that her father raised her with a tough character, thinking that it was right, but no. This has caused huge injuries as we are seeing now. Turning off the electricity, depriving food because of this - can this affect the child's psyche well? Certainly not. And I understand that the military has its own rules, but you need to be able to separate work and family. Her father, I think, is one of the big reasons why she is so traumatized.

Second. She served and definitely saw a lot of horrors that could later return in the form of paranoia (as, for example, with the case when Lilly realized that someone was stealing medicines). Attention, headcanon! It is possible that she was sent to this service absolutely not of her own volition, it may be because of her father, and again it comes down to the first point.

The third. While reading Wikipedia, I came across "she was instantly regretful of having to kill Mitch, as she had a brief mental relapse, only to recover moments later" Mental relapse. (Relapse is a return to the disease while in remission) This especially attracted my attention and aroused my interest in studying it a little more and writing this post. Based on the above, I can say that she have not one mental disorder, but much more. I read about most mental disorders and tried to correlate which ones are suitable for Lilly, but again, these are my headcanons, which may be a little backed up by the truth. Presumably: anxiety disorder, possibly depression, hysterical psychosis.

In general, I can conclude that Lilly actually had big problems with her father, but she was attached to him because he was the only one who stayed with her. He, in turn, was very protective of her (and it's clear, he's a military man), but then he could hurt her too much, and Lilly.. She couldn't do something when she was still a child. And therefore, for these reasons, Lilly has grown into a cold bitch, but I am more than sure that there is the same gentle Lilly, just in childhood this tenderness was killed in her because of her father, perhaps she was forbidden to express her feelings and emotions and for any loud expression of feelings or emotions she could get a hit and therefore, apart from anger, bitterness and cold, there was practically nothing left.

Lilly is not really a negative character, if you think about it, she is deeply traumatized and just no one ever wanted to understand her.

I hope it was interesting for you to read this! Thank you <3

#twdg #lilly twdg #twdg season 4 #twdg lilly

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thoughtsfromymind · 6 years

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Thought 15

I'm relapsing. I can feel it I know it. I've just felt really fucking dysphoric for a little while. I started hyperventilating in the shower and ended that with a good old fashion panic attack. Why do I insist on making it hard for myself. I should reach out to people I know. I should talk to someone. I should talk. I keep on repeating in my head that I just fucking need someone to say a few kind words. I need someone to save me. No one can save you if you don't let them. It just wraps back to this twisted pride complex that I'd be a burden on someone else. Or that I can do it myself and I should stop being such a damn coward. It's all my fault. This entire damn thing is my fucking fault and I know it.

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bendy-the-dancing-demon · 2 years

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boris and I had to live on our was because my mom and our older sister and little brother hated boris My family hates boris they act like he doesn't exist and doesn't want him around so if I'm with my family anything that involves boris I can't say or mention to them anything about boris I can't say to them so if I ever have a romantic partner they won't be able to meet boris .What's worse no one can talk about him either and if he dies one day from his illness my friends and or future romantic partner can't talk about him because it will cause drama and boris doesn't want that to happen to me ever so awful but I don't want drama .But I'll always love my brother and my father adored boris but I can't even talk about the memories of boris and my dad in front of my family and neither can my friends or future lover but boris and I accept that situation. This is why there is more hate than love for my family when I'm with them i pretend to as nice as possible and not say anything about boris or say boris and so i can go home to my brother quickly as possible.Yep so this what I'll deal with for the rest of my life so if anyone ever meet my family i can't talk about boris or mention his name and he might not be able to meet anyone around our family unfortunately because of that

I have a love and hate relationship with my family more hate than love at this point

I I feel like people don't care about that or me and probably abandon me if I don't please them with what they like and care about. it's a fear I have

I keep finding out I more problems I have and I get so sad because I have hope I'm getting better and then bad news I don't handle bad news well

The bad news is I relapsed in my depression getting worse and anxiety and panic attacks and insecurities and loneliness again and crying alot again I'm very suicidal thoughts this week

I lost my friend to cancer a year ago he was 15 years old his name was felix Camilo

I'm not okay anymore every time I think I'm better I'm worse I don't know what to do with myself I'm disaster and my mind is telling me terrible things are going to happen to my friends even though it's not true why do I have to be this way I'm paranoid right now

my father died last year September 23 2020 and my grandfather died on Monday

my brother could die young from asthma in the future

I have ethyigleiga rare nervous system disorder general anixety disorder,general panic disorder,autism,extreme depression,Dysphoria,

obsessive compulsive disorder

post traumatic stress disorder,18 years childhood truma,separation anxiety,paranoia,alexithymia,

sleep deprivation Abandonment issues , alexithymia

10 abusive ex boyfriend who would abuse me mentally, physically, verbally,emotionally and raped me making me feel like he something wrong with me and I did something wrong and I was scared for my life and would crying in fear and pain

But now when I think of my ex I'm only angry and want to forget him

I've been living on my own since I was 12 and boris was 13 After buying our house we got jobs and had to act mature and adults and go to school and do all the things adults do when living in a house and doctor appointments and bills and work and sicknesses and mental health problems disorders and we never had a chance to be a child and do anything child related we never had a childhood

The reason why we moved out at that age because

I have a love and hate relationship with my family more hate than love at this point

for 8 years I've been bullied mentally, verbally, physically, emotionally at school a kid kicked me in the ribs and kids push me down the stairs and throw rocks at the door hurting my feet and my entire class bullied me insulting me in every way possible and mocked me in front of the teacher and I became depressed and suicidal 4 times kids dragged me by the legs in fights and beat me and no adult cared at all when all this happened and pretend they didn't know that happened

12 a guy sexual harass me in front of everyone in school I was scared and disgusted

Well 3 reason why people treat me unfairly

1 I have autism disorder I get discriminated

2 I was born with a birth defect where I was born with feminine genitals and reproductive system I get discriminated because of it because I'm a guy who was born differently

3 some people can be racist to me because I'm a Colombian, Ecuadorian, Italian American

I'm still going through this pain I have truma from all of this and bad things still happen my depression getting worse and worse and my mental health problems and truma and everything I went through for 19 years affects me till this day and many more

I lose weight I'm a picky eater and I barely eat and I'm very tall and very skinny

The family members that hate me when I was young shamed me for being skinny and not gaining weight

I'd care for all my friends and truthful and honest and loving and caring and supportive and loyal and wise I am a motherly nurturing type of man

So I have a habit of calling my friends or the people I care about hon ,honey, sweetheart, sweetie, darling, love

Yeah I guess I am strong for surviving all of that

I never got a chance to be a child and have a childhood and do all the things children does

Yeah my life wasn't easy for me or my older brother

I have ethyigleiga rare nervous system disorder general anixety disorder,general panic disorder,autism,extreme depression,Dysphoria,obsessive compulsive disorder

post traumatic stress disorder,18 years childhood truma,separation anxiety,paranoia,alexithymia,

sleep deprivation Abandonment issues,romantic relationship truma for 4 years

That all my mental health problems I have right now

Boris and I lived on our own house since we were kids I was 12 and he was 13 we had no one else but ourselves

Without me being there my friends would fall apart and make it my responsibility to help them and care for them I don't take breaks I care for everyone but myself

My life for 19 years

#not my art #yes bendy is my biological first name #extreme depression #im fragile #my life for 19 years

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wearemadeofmillions · 4 years

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“My earliest memories of OCD were at age 5, when I first started experiencing terrible anxiety, intrusive thoughts and compulsive rituals. My teachers told my mom that I was falling behind in school and recommended some testing, which resulted in me being placed in a slow learning disability class. ⁣ ⁣ As a teen, I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder, panic disorder and depression. I was given medication and sent on my way. I never had an opportunity to talk to anyone who could give me insight into what was actually wrong. Deep down, my suffering was raw and intense.⁣ ⁣ I was officially diagnosed with OCD at age 26 during my last year of university. I broke down and went to the school psychiatrist. My world had unraveled and was falling apart around me. I was given new medication that momentarily made me feel stable and hopeful. ⁣ ⁣ In 2018, I had a severe relapse where I became completely housebound, lost 20 lbs and was convinced that I’d never get better as my psychiatrist told me ‘this is a chronic condition, you can’t recover.’ OCD had attacked every single part of my life, the last thing it latched onto was my passion: my career as a nurse. #NoOneToldMe that OCD could force me to leave a job I loved. ⁣ ⁣ As a last resort, I broke my silence and reluctantly reached out to a couple of OCD advocates on social media. It was through this connection that I learned about all things OCD. I discovered there was treatment available that worked and had helped people reach recovery. This drove me to seek proper care for myself and finally start healing. ⁣ ⁣ Two months ago, I volunteered to be redeployed to help my community fight COVID-19. I left my job working from home to go work in a long-term care facility that has been devastated by this virus. Yes I still have OCD, yes I have had treatment, yes some days are hard, but OCD will never beat me again. It will never take away my ability to do what I love the most — be a nurse and care for vulnerable people in my community.” ⁣ ⁣ From @lindsfraise 💜 We spoke with Lindsey to learn more about her OCD journey and experiences as a healthcare worker during #covid19. Head here to read the full piece.

#covid 19 #essential worker #nurse #mental health #mental health awareness #intrusive thoughts #pure o #ocd #contamination ocd #contamination anxiety #covid 19 anxiety #mental health awareness month #mental health nonprofit #no one told me #social isolation #end stigma #no stigma

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roxxelll · 3 years

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Good day all. Since today is my 26th birthday, I’ve been doing a bit of reflecting & I thought it’d be fitting to share a part of myself I seldom talk about. A little over a week ago, it was the ninth anniversary of my admittance to rehab. I haven’t thought about my time there for a long while but for some reason this year I’ve been a little overwhelmed with emotion. I thought I’d write it all down and share a bit of it in hopes that it might help someone, whether it’s to shift their thinking or give them a little hope.

I wrote the piece below almost 6 years ago but after reading over it I still find it one of the most eloquent things I might’ve tried to express. The reason I chose to share it is to say to anyone- if you are struggling and this time is testing your mental health and your strength, you are stronger than you think. A bad day doesn’t mean you are losing, it means you are coping and working hard at beating your own demons.

I don’t talk about this side of my life a whole lot but it would be nice if you could share it if you resonate with it in some way or if you feel like you know someone who might.

>>It gets a little long and there are TRIGGERS for eating disorders so please proceed with caution !!! <<

I do this thing where I often brush over my anorexia in conversation, and as expected, this might be the first time many of you are hearing of it. I just never felt the need to tell my story to the people in my life, I never wanted it to be the thing that everyone rolls their eyes about.

However, I think it is time for me to tell my story. In full. What prompted me was that I have seen how my story became an inspiration for someone else; a reason for them to feel that they are not alone in the world. I was in awe that something so terrible in my life could be used for something so good.

This is the story of my eating disorder and I.

19 January, 2015

My mind was my body’s worst enemy. It was a weapon of mass destruction, ticking away in my head. Misconceptions invaded my mind and multiplied into thoughts and soon after their images were all I saw in the mirror.

I can’t give my mind all the credit; I didn’t create all the misconceptions in my own mind, even if they were all allowed to grow there. My mind only mimicked what it was being fed at just about every turn. One of the things I remember so vividly is seeing an underwear model. She was sexy and beautiful and I could think of nothing I wanted more in the world than her body. So started the worst train of thought I have ever had: the aspiration for perfection.

The media can be a scary thing. As a teenager, it was pretty much most of what everyone was talking about and consuming on a day to day basis. By the time I was in grade 10 in high school, all my time had been consumed by trying to getting the best grades and only producing my best work in my visual arts class. My time in the sports field ceased all together and in my mind the only way for me to achieve my standards of perfection was to go down the dark, sinister route that I had not even realised I'd taken.

On 26 October 2011, I was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa. There is no easy way to explain the feeling of your own head telling you that you are not good enough, that you are disgusting, that you are too fat, that you may not eat.

2011 was not a good year for me, I remember so well that a bad day would grow into a bad week and eventually evolve into bad months. My family seemed as dysfunctional as ever, I picked up the nasty habit of smoking and the stress of school had only weakened my state of mind. I hated what I was and I had somehow convinced myself that everyone else around me felt the same way, when in fact I was the one pushing them away. Sometime in mid October, armed robbers had broken into my house. No one in my family was hurt, but I had gotten away with a broken arm and a few bruises.

It was then in hospital that doctors had noticed there was something off about me. It must have been brain shattering for my parents to see what had been eating away at me for months only at that moment. How could they when all I did was hide from the world?

I was admitted into rehab after that and I did not sit for my November exams. In six months I had lost 14kgs. I have been in remission since.

My life was consumed by loss. First it was the weight, then my strength, and eventually demons began to nibble away at my personality. I watched my life crumble away as fast as my body did. My hair started to fall out and my nails stopped growing. I lost my period all together. My bones stuck out of my body like they were unwanted intruders, I became as frail, dead and dull as an old building.

Misconceptions are the hardest scars to heal. They forced my body apart from my mind. I have learned that it's called body disconnection, the feeling of being absolutely cut off from your body. No experience was good enough in my body because my mind wanted to be as far from this body as possible. I don't know how you can even explain it... Imagine wanting to be so far out of a room you would give anything to leave it. Now imagine that was your own body and you can start to understand body disconnection. You can leave an uncomfortable room. You can’t evacuate your own body. Excruciating, isn’t it? Looking in the mirror, I never saw a body that was perfect, only the disgusting images of what my mind had made me believe I looked like: the image of imperfection. It was shattering, painful and exhausting..

It's been three years now.

I'm quite proud to admit that my annoying need to overachieve at everything has been my biggest weakness and my greatest strength. I never wanted to do something halfway, and this was no different: I got an eating disorder as bad as they go. But I sure as hell got a recovery as good as they go. I have not relapsed or regressed. I have just grown in confidence and in strength. I haven’t done that on my own: the support I have had from just about every corner of my life has been my lifeline. Even on Tumblr where people are so confident just to share selfies and feel good about how great they look. Nothing makes me happier to see people love who they are. The people in my life have fought with me in my corner with so much strength they could collectively save the world. I am not sure I could ever find the words to describe the impact they have made.

People tell me every day how far I have come in three years. They see me eat and think it is all over. There is little truth in an assumption so bold. Here’s the thing no one told me about when I first thought an eating disorder is a good idea: it never leaves you. It just becomes less overwhelming. I still have the scars to face every day. I say remission because I never really heal. Then again I am only human and people often forget that when I have a bad day. The truth is I face my worst fear every time I sit down to eat no matter how much it seems like I love food.

I'm not perfect, no one is. And in time I've learned this fact and to love myself. I don't burst at the seams with confidence, but I definitely have more now than what I did three years ago. There are days where a relapse sits on the horizon but you just have to hold your head high and fight it. I don't write this in hopes of becoming a role model but I do hope it inspires people, not just those who face what I did, but with any curve ball life decides to throw at them. There's always a way out if you're willing to look for it.

_______________

I wrote this five years ago. This passed year has probably been the biggest test of my recovery in a long time. Staying at home with constant worries about access to the gym, my safe foods and social distancing are prime triggers for a relapse for me. It’s true that you never fully recover, but you do get better with time. Every day is a constant fight against my ED, depression and anxiety, and there are many days where it seems like climbing this never-ending mountain is impossible. But I’ve come to realise that any step we take in pushing against it (even just acknowledging our emotions and thoughts) is one in the right direction.

In the past week I have thought quite a lot about my anorexia and impact it has had on my life, my family and my body. And the truth is, I still choose to wake up and fight the “mad bitch” everyday. Some days are definitely harder than others, sometimes it’s easy. But I win everytime because I choose to fight it. So I really hope that anyone fighting their demons (whatever they may be) will reflect on how strong they are and the journey they have walked. ♡

#roxy txt #sorry this is really emotional but i rly wanted to share it #tw eating disorder #tw anorexia #tw rehab mention #i hope this spreads some postivity despite the sad story #if anyone even takes the time to read it lmfao #ok to rb btw!#also i am always here for you guys #lets celebrate ourselves today <3

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gregglatz · 3 years

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My permanent accessory

Alcohol, my permanent accessory Alcohol, a party-time necessity Alcohol, alternative to feeling like yourself Oh alcohol, I still drink to your health [Chorus] I love you more Than I did the week before I discovered alcohol –– The Barenaked Ladies

Alcohol helps … until it doesn’t

Drinking problems are tricky. Most people with a drinking disorder (alcohol use disorder or AUD) do not fit the stereotype of a blackout drunk. They work, play, and live like everyone else. They are intelligent, conscientious, funny, and fun to be around, often unusually so. What sets them apart from people who don’t have AUD is that not drinking makes them feel terrible. Alcohol withdrawal symptoms can begin just a few hours after the last drink and include anxiety, poor sleep/insomnia, headaches/migraines, nausea and vomiting, restlessness and agitation, rapid heartbeat, sweating, hallucinations, and tremors. Drinking alleviates the withdrawal symptoms and makes it easier to relax, be more comfortable around others, engage in intimacy, etc. So, from a short-term perspective it feels good to keep drinking. However, the cost of feeling good is dependence on a substance that will take its toll on a person’s physical and mental health and social and financial well being.

The cost of feeling good

In addition to the unpleasant short-term effects of alcohol withdrawal, the long-term consequences of AUD include liver damage/failure, atrial fibrillation, cardiac arrest, bone deterioration, cancer, diabetes, diseases related to vitamin B1 deficiency (including dementia), anxiety, depression, weight gain, job loss, financial insolvency, relationship failure, and increasing isolation from people who don’t join you in disordered drinking. If any of this sounds familiar, have an honest conversation with yourself and with a friend, therapist, or doctor about how much you’re drinking and (more importantly) why you’re drinking. AUD is not a moral failure, personal weakness, or problem you need to hide from others. It's a disorder. You need and deserve treatment and support.

How to stop drinking

AA can help. Need another approach? Check out ...

Allen Carr's EasyWay to quit drinking books, including The Easy Way for Women to Quit Drinking and The Illustrated Easy Way to Stop Drinking. Nikki Glaser (VIDEO) successfully used this approach.

The Sinclair Method. Check out Roy Eskapa, The Cure for Alcoholism: The Medically Proven Way to Eliminate Alcohol Addiction. Claudia Christian (VIDEO) successfully used this approach.

The Alcohol Experiment aka This Naked Mind. Developed by Annie Grace (VIDEO), This Naked Mind works by ending the conflict between your conscious desire to drink less, and your subconscious belief that alcohol is beneficial. At 35, Annie Grace was in a global C-level marketing role, responsible for 28 countries. Drinking close to two bottles of wine a night, her professional success came at a personal price she no longer wanted to pay. Grace preaches compassion, knowing its power over shame and blame is the best way to achieve lasting change.

Please be careful

If you experience withdrawal symptoms (see above) when you don't drink, you have a physical dependence on alcohol. Withdrawal symptoms can be severe, and in some cases life-threatening, so unsupervised detox is dangerous. If you want to get past your physical dependence on alcohol, have an open and honest conversation with a qualified healthcare professional. Make sure you have the resources you need in place to detox safely.

AUD and in a relationship?

If you have AUD and you're in a relationship, be upfront with partners about your disorder. Do the same with family and friends that are important to you. Let them know if/how you're addressing your disorder. Let them know the impact your disorder will have on your relationship with them. Give them mental and emotional space to decide how and if they can cope with being in a relationship with someone with AUD. Build the supportive, judgement-free space you need by finding the people who accept you with AUD. Let go of the ones who don't. Do not feel shame, guilt, or anxiety if they can't accept your disorder. Do not make them feel shame, guilt, or anxiety if they can't accept your disorder. Some people will stick with you. Others, it’s better for you and them if they don’t.

Love/like someone with AUD?

If you love/like someone with AUD, start with a reality check. If the person you love/like is not addressing their AUD, they will either be intoxicated, hungover, in withdrawal, dealing with the mental and physical effects of long-term alcohol misuse, or experiencing several of these conditions simultaneously. You will play a secondary role to alcohol in that person’s life. Most/all activities you do with that person will involve drinking. If the drinking stops, the relationship will lose momentum. If you directly or indirectly make them feel their drinking is under scrutiny, the relationship will probably end, sometimes without warning or discussion.

A person with untreated AUD is mentally and physically dependent on alcohol. That dependency may cause the person to push away or run away from anyone (including you) they perceive as a threat to their drinking. This can create a codependency, where you become an enabler by ignoring their AUD in hopes of keeping the relationship intact, and the person with AUD deems you "safe" and intensifies the relationship with you. You may feel the rush of being needed/wanted by someone so much. However, insobriety does NOT provide a foundation for a healthy relationship, no matter how “intoxicating” the relationship feels. Things a person says or does under the influence may be regretted or not even remembered when that person is sober.

This may leave you feeling used and possibly abused. This is understandable, but if you develop a martyr complex, this is a clear sign you have a boundary problem. You have likely compromised your time and energy in hopes of an outcome that wasn't realistic, not discussed, and not agreed to. Put your concerns and expectations on the table. Have you even discussed concerns about alcohol use? Be prepared for the person with AUD to be in denial, or to feel you have completely misunderstood their reality. If you're convinced the problem is there, you may have to agree to disagree and part company. If you think you got it wrong, don't ignore further signs that say you got it right. If the person acknowledges AUD, do you expect the person to get sober ... immediately, eventually? Do you expect the person to be in recovery? Can you accept relapses? Can you accept how the person's withdrawal symptoms might negatively impact their behaviour towards you? Are you prepared to accept any disabilities or chronic illnesses that develop as a result of long-term AUD? Be honest with yourself. Be honest with the person with AUD. Be prepared to adjust your expectations to reflect what is reality for a person with AUD, rather than thinking that person can change reality to meet all your expectations. If you can’t live with adjusted expectations, leave the relationship. That is kinder than placing your unhelpful expectations on a person with AUD.

Another sign that you have a boundary problem is a Messiah complex: the erroneous belief that you can "fix" the person with AUD. You cannot cure them. You have no ability to make a person deal with their AUD. You have no right to make them feel shame, guilt, or anxiety for having AUD. Trying to be someone’s savior means you’re making their recovery about you, not them. This is not what a person with AUD needs.

Set healthy boundaries for yourself, respect the boundaries of the the person with AUD, and provide encouragement, a listening ear, and your presence when needed. Speak the truth in love. Be prepared to face the truth, even when it hurts. You may lose the person you love/like to alcohol, or not. Either way, the outcome is ultimately out of your hands and you need to be “okay” with this uncertainty if you stay in the relationship. (There are uncertainties in every relationship.)

If you struggle with setting boundaries, it might be helpful to explore treatment for Codependency or Dependent Personality Disorder.

Need support from others in your situation? Check out Al-Anon for help in maintaining your mental and emotional sobriety while in a relationship with someone with AUD.

Facts on Alcohol Use Disorder (Mayo Clinic).

#alcoholusedisorder #alcoholicsanonymous

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redpath-deleon · 3 years

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Major Depressive Episode

After being diagnosed with a severe case of Hypothyroidism, I fell into a deeper kind of depression. Many of you may know what real depression feels like, but many others don't. The morbid and chaotic thoughts are unending. I always thought people were out of there minds when they said they could "hear voices," but, in my case, my voice was my own, and it was unrelenting. If I didn't finish doing the dishes, my thought weren't well, you can do them later," but a spiraling descent into "you will never amount to anything why don't you kill yourself?" The morbidity extended onto fantasizing about suicide, and I have almost always had suicidal ideation, but never to the point of planning and fantasizing. The anxiety that a major depressive episode induces is terrible. My doctor believes I have had at least eight years of untreated hypothyroidism, so I have always had some kind of anxiety. I wasn't able to speak in front of crowds as well as I used when I was younger, receiving gifts from others would make me sweat, and I always felt everyone was thinking the worst of me. However, this kind of anxiety doesn't compare to hyperventilating, pacing, sweating, and overall general sense of unease. Besides these episodes of panic, I was extremely unmotivated and fatigued. I know what fatigue feels like. I have a terrible endocrine disorder that basically wrecks all desire to do anything, but these fatigue felt like it was when I was at the end of my hormonal imbalance. I had to mentally prepare myself to take a shower in the morning because that seemed like a marathon. Reading, cleaning, walking, all of these pastimes I enjoyed, but I was completely unmotivated, and uninterested in my studies, and hobbies. I suffered like this for three long months. I didn't know then, but I know know, that medication helps. I take Wellbutrin, and it helps a lot with suicidal ideation, gives me a little perk, and keeps me from relapsing. Anyone who is struggling, and think medication isn't the way should at least give something a try. I hope you all are doing better than I am, Red

#major depressive disorder #panic disorder #anxiety disorder #autoimmune #hypothyroid problems #life #mental health

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nico-idc · 3 years

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random vent because i'm numb rn and feel like it

This is a vent post, ill probably talk about su!cide, self h*rm, eating disorders and depression. I’ll also cuss a lot, and things will not be censored. Also, this may seem insensitive to people experiencing any of this, sorry about that. Dont read this if youre triggered by that.

Also, this is my experience with mental health. Everyone deals with it differently.

So, If anyone doesnt know, I have depression and anxiety. And right now, I’m feeling numb as it’s often described by people with depression. But, numb isn’t a very good description. I can still feel. I’ll still smile if you tell me a joke, or if something funny is on a video. I’ll still cry if there’s something super sad. Emotion is just watered down. I feel it, but not as much as I should. Me and my boyfriend were talking, and i couldnt tell him I loved him. It’s not becuase I dont love him, but I just cant feel much of anything, so I dont want to tell him I loved him. Becuase If i did that, I felt as though I was lying. The funniest thing is, I randomly started crying. Still felt nothing, but hey, I had tears streaming down my face. Who fucking knows why.

I havent been doing to great for a while now, but this is the worst i’ve ever gotten. Ive never felt numb before. I mean, I’ve felt myself starting to go through the motions, but i’ve never gone completely numb before. And before this i’ve had a few mental breakdowns. Hell, I’ve sat in a corner twice in the past month or so doing nothing but sobbing and begging myself not to move so I dont grab something sharp and cut myself. (I did not relapse, don’t worry). and recently I completely broke down over simply eating a cereal bar, got through it, ate it. I’m good now.

Figures. That does seem to be my experience. Oh no, big bad issue one time, then magically I just talk myself out of my bullshit, and im fixed. Ha ha, yet I act like I have all these issues. I mean, I didnt even attempt to starve myself, just thought “oh, friends and family wont let me” and didnt. Had a breakdown about a year later, been fine since. Cut for a few months, went to therapy for a few months, stopped cutting. had a few breakdowns about a year or two later, then was fine. was suicidal for a while, went to therapy for a bit, was happy for months. Had breakdowns every now and then, fine now.

ha ha, first time I say alot of this is online. Figures. I’ve done that a lot too. My boyfriend has found out a bit about my depression through this site. Becuase I cant talk to my boyfriend about my shit, but hey random people on the internet! hear about my problems.

So on another note, I recently found a song that describes part of depression pretty well. It’s called “i’m not dead” by boyinaband. it’s linked below, I’ll copy paste the lyrics, and explain how I relate, and what the lyrics mean to me, becuase why not? (lyrics will be in bold)

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youtube

I'm not dead

I'm not fixed, but I'm not giving up yet

Basically, this means that im still here, im still depressed, but I’m still trying to fight depression.

I'm sick of saying that I still don't have anything done

I hate telling friends I'm trying something just to give it up

I never commit to anything, I just say I’ll do something, then decide I dont want to.

I'm still unsure of my emotional state

I'm still incapable of focusing lately

I don't feel like creating

I'm tired of asking Google how to find motivation

I’ve been on break from writing for months now. tried to get back to it, lost concentration. I think this is self explanatory.

I don't think I've ever made

Something that's as good as I'm capable of

Ha, I dont put in enough effort and commitment to make something as good as possible.

I hate not having a reason to look my best

I only ever take care of myself with the intent to show the internet

I mean, I dont try to show the internet, but I only take care of myself when other people will see me.

If what made me successful was an imposed sense of stress then

I am so so glad that I hated myself

The only thing that makes me do things is extreme stress.

I didn't luck into this position

I struggle with decisions

I mean, im not in any high position, but I do struggle with decisions.

I wouldn't be my own friend

I'm too inconsistent

I’m inconsistent as hell. I’m in like 10 group chats, don't talk in any of them for months, then just show up like “hi, havent talked to you all in ages, but hi”.

Without immense pressure nothing ever gets finished

If these words make it to your ears it'll be a fucking miracle.

Yep. I went on whole rant about this on wattpad. Without pressure to do something, I don’t do it.

I'm fortunate to know more good people than most do

I wish I had more friends I could be physically close to

I dont personally have a lot of friends that dont live in my city, so the last line isnt an issue, but I do know a lot of good people”

I'm pretty good at like 20 different skill sets

At the expense of never being great at any one of them

I’m good at quite a few things. Drawing, math, even writing. But im not great at it. I’m average.

I wish this beat hit harder

I wish more syllables rhymed

I know 99 percent of people really don't mind

I dont personally relate to this, seeing as I dont make music.

I think collaborating forced me to finish things

'Cause I was terrified of wasting famous people's time

Oh yeah. Group projects would not get done if i wasnt scared of wasting my partner’s time.

I wish I could focus on what I define priority

I wish I was as grateful as I want to be

Dont really relate to these things

I wish I knew more people who were mentally stable

But if I did,

I wouldn't let them waste their time on me while I'm disabled

Oh yeah. Id love to have a friend who isnt depressed, but I wouldnt let them see that im fucked up becuase i dont wanna drag them down.

I feel alone

I know I'm not

I have a lot of friends, but I still fell alone in this world

I used to talk to lots of people.

Lately I've stopped

They didn't deserve it,

I've been a terrible friend.

But I couldn't bear to let myself become boring to them

I ignore group chats all the time. no reason. Probably shouldnt.

I don't let myself get my hopes up.

I love people who do.

Something good happens? what could go wrong? that is my thought precess.

I never know if what I say I feel is the truth

I have no damn Idea what I think, so its so hard to know what the truth in my head is.

I wish I didn't instinctively try to be less specific

So more people could relate, when they read along with the lyrics.

Not lyrics, but if i write/explain something, I immediately generalize things so its relateable.

I can be happy in the moment

I am not when I reflect

I smile watching youtube, but then I look back and think about how I wasted time.

I distract myself with gaming, waiting to get better

I hate it

Youtube will cure depression right? /s

I wanna do the most good, and prevent the most hurt

But I've gotta put on my own oxygen mask first

This is just an important phrase I try to remember when I’m down. for people who dont do well with metaphors, he’s saying that if you want to help people, you need to help yourself first.

I can't predict what I'll do.

I can never be sure

I am terrified of making promises any more

I can't face my work,

I feel sick from the word

I genuinely believe I'm capable of changing the world

Don’t relate much here, except for the more positive, upbeat tone the song takes on, and i feel that this part, the part above and everything below is dave fighting his depression.

I still think I can get better

I’m holding onto hope.

I still think I can create and get pleasure from it

I hope so, I want my art and writing to improve.

I'll keep aiming to make my emotion and my logic agree

The eternal stuggle. I always try to get the two to line up, it rarely works. I try to use logic more often though.

And become the best version of me

Always trying to improve myself.

I don't want to stop!

There’s alot this could mean. I dont want to stop creating. I dont want to stop fighting. I dont want to stop getting better. I dont want to stop living. I relate to all these things.

I’ll expand on this more later, it’s too late now for me to continue this

#cussing tw #swearing tw #tw suicide mention #tw self harm #tw eating disorder #vent post

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koreanoreo · 3 years

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So I Made A Tumblr...

Hi! I’m KoreanOreo from Ao3, Wattpad and Fanfiction.net. If you’re here than you probably know that, if not then Hi! I write fanfiction to improve my writing so I can eventually, hopefully, publish a real book.

If you’re here then you’re probably wondering what’s going on with my on-going stories.

It’s been a while since I’ve updated any of my stories besides Hinata!!! on Ice and I left a some pretty cryptic posts on my Instagram about what’s going on. Unfortunately, Instagram isn’t really useful for long-winded explanations which is what lead me to creating this account.

The short version is that last week (March 31, 2021), my uncle unexpectedly passed away and I need time to deal with that (mostly by avoiding my very family/relationship centric fanfictions and fanfictions that deal with very sad character deaths). I’ve mostly been dealing with it through drawing.

The long version is a bit heavier.

Despite that, this account isn’t to talk about my mental health or vent to cope or post depressing content all the time. It’s to keep you guys up to date on where new chapters are and their progress.

For sure I won’t be writing anything for at least the month but I will be drawing more so I implore you to check out my side-blog for my art @artsaura and if you wish to support me further, please consider purchasing something from my redbubble

Before proceeding, I’m offering a bit of a content warning: The explanation below is extremely long and talks about heart attacks, depression, eating disorders, anxiety, family death, and mentions of self-harm. It gets fairly graphic and detailed. If you are triggered by any of this please don’t read on any further. If I sound a bit detached, it’s because it’s easier for me to deal with all this.

On the evening of Wednesday March 31, 2021, my uncle suffered a massive heart attack while he was alone at home. His wife, that he recently married in August of 2019, was at work and she came home to find him on their couch not breathing with only a faint pulse. She had him rushed to the hospital and my dad (my uncle’s younger brother) and my aunt (their younger sister) rushed to meet them at the hospital.

At the time no one really knew what was going on or if he was going to survive but I didn’t actually think he’d pass away. I was worried about it but it was mostly just my anxiety. At worst I was expecting him to slip into a temporary coma or suffer some minor cognitive impairment.

About an hour and a half later we got the call. I was in my room and my sister came in sobbing saying “We lost him.”

At first I was numb, I didn’t cry, I didn’t really feel anything. None of it felt real and I a big part of me didn’t believe it. When I finally started cry even that felt fake. I felt like I simultaneously couldn’t stop and could stop easily if I needed to. It was strange. I had a hard time smiling and even things that would normally crack me up couldn’t make me laugh for a while that night. At the time, we still didn’t know what was going on or why he’d passed away.

When my father got home from the hospital we finally got an explanation.

At one point, either in the hospital or in the ambulance, his heart and stopped and they managed to resuscitate him. When they did he was completely unresponsive and had no brain activity. Based on some quick research I assume it was caused by going too long in cardiac arrest before getting help. He wasn’t breathing when his wife found him and we have no idea how long he’d been in that state. The hospital kept my uncle alive long enough for the family going to the hospital to say goodbye. My dad, my aunt and my grandmother decided that keeping him a vegetable for the rest of his life isn’t what he would want and decided to pull the plug.

I made the mistake of doing some research on brain death which ended in me becoming more depressed because everything was basically saying that he might’ve gotten better if he was given a bit of time. All of this happened within hours and everything I read said that people supposedly brain dead should generally be given a few days.

Over the last few days it got a bit easier to talk about, planning the funeral and all that and at the moment I feel okay. But I know as soon as I walk through the doors of the funeral parlor I’m going to break down again.

About 15 months ago, just before Christmas is 2019 my paternal grandfather passed away. It wasn’t necessarily unexpected, he’d been sick for years and had only been getting worse so it wasn’t really a surprise--although the timing was especially terrible. It felt a bit different than this. We had been waiting for it, even expecting it--it didn’t really make it easier but it felt less wrong.

This was completely unexpected. There was no warning. About 10 days earlier I’d seen him at my cousin’s 21st birthday celebration. We were joking and everything was fine. In the days leading up to his heart attack his stomach had been bothering him and the day before he’d said he was feeling better. Aside from that he was a mostly healthy man, a bit overweight but otherwise he took care of himself--especially since we’re all aware that heart problems run in the family. He ate healthy, he was semi-active, he took care of himself. We really have no idea what caused it or if it could’ve been prevented.

Going a little further back, in January my dad and I caught Covid and were pretty sick for about 2 weeks. My dad’s sister called us just after New Years saying her and her husband tested positive and since we’d celebrated Christmas Eve with them, we all planned to get tested too. The next day I was hit with symptoms. In the days leading up to it I’d had some minor headaches, but the day after learning my aunt had covid it got especially bad. My sinuses felt like they were the size of grapefruits, I had full body aches I couldn’t really breath, at one point I had a minor fever (never exceeding 100℉/37.7℃) and I couldn’t taste anything. I couldn’t focus on writing because of the headaches and it was just overall a bad time. Even now, months later, I still have breathing problems from it which only makes my insomnia worse (along with the anxiety of suddenly not being able to breath in my sleep).

On top of that, back in November I relapsed in my eating disorder (if you want to get technical, I was just dealing with BED in between bouts of anorexia but that doesn’t make a difference) and for the past year or so I’ve been fighting the urge to start cutting again. The emotional drain my uncle’s passing is putting me through is only making it worse and my only semi-healthy release (weed) isn’t readily available atm (and my parents don’t really support it so I can’t do it at home anyway).

That’s pretty much everything important. If you made it through my emotional rant then thank you for listening. Thank you for all the support you’ve given me over the years. I’ll be back in a month or two.

Again, if you wish to support me and my work further, please consider buying from my redbubble.

~KoreanOreo

#personal #journal #life update

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elisaleis · 3 years

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Let's talk about Eating Disorders !!!

First of all, I am going to say that each eating disorder is a world apart from the person who suffers from it. Here I am going to talk exclusively about my experience (I do not compare myself or want anyone to compare me) Also to say that all kinds of eating disorders are not something that we wake up with overnight, it has a process that can last for years. or more at the beginning, which highlights that deep down a story is hidden, traumas that most of the time has nothing to do with food.

I do not recommend anyone to start with this disorder by making their own decision, it is a slow and quite sad process that always has a solution when it comes to the thought of "Wanting to lose weight." So please, if you have that ideology, seek help from nutritionists or a health professional, because this in itself is more trauma along with the psychological aspect. "Take Control because someone or something has taken it out of our life." That said, if this is your case please Get out of here, Love yourself and Feel Happy with your Own Being.

My story began with a trauma from a very young age and with this an ideology that in my experience cannot be erased with any psychological treatment or therapeutic help. I am not going to relate my trauma here because I will not expose myself in this way. I lived many years enduring a pain that killed me inside. Depression, Anxiety and Hallucinations (Flash-back) with those painful moments of my childhood. Anorexia was a very slow process, it took years in which unconsciously the relationship with food became a Control to make my own decisions. Before, I always had a sad and insecure time, until I seized that control that was lacking in my life. Not physically but emotionally I felt indestructible. (I want to emphasize that the greatest goals and ideas achieved throughout my adolescence was in this period of eating disorder).

When control became obsessive, then I did fall into that sad Edge of Disease. I reached 85 pounds without even realizing it. I went out on my own and resumed a Fitness diet reaching 115 pounds and being envied by many people. But what do you think? It was not me. I was not happy and that control had disappeared, I went to therapies which did not help and that trauma as a child became a current idea. I didn't count calories and was on an Intuitive-only diet. Sadly, Anorexia is a layer that protects me from my own mind to no longer idealize these experiences, like a pill that would make me forget all that past. As expected, I would relapse again looking for that phase of feeling pure and confident again. That was when these 2 photos were taken (very happy and without lying much more than now, and much more being recovered) I had returned to weighing 85 pounds, and I did not feel it physically. I carried out my normal life as if nothing was happening. As I did not realize it, I fell back to a lower extreme (without any awareness) 75 pounds was the lowest weight that I have now reached.

I did not feel excessively bad physically either (EYE, MY OWN EXPERIENCE), but it is clear that it had gotten Hugely out of hand. After a few months I climbed to 95 pounds (own choice because of my increased low heart rate and blood pressure). At this time, I was leading the best life I had ever led. I consumed 2000 calories and all kinds of food, including tacos and chocolate in each of its versions. Towards a normal life in which having an eating disorder was one of the ideas that no longer fit in my head. I kept counting my calories and keeping track of everything, which obviously took me away from all those thoughts of the past. The rule is simple: "Control what you eat and Control will keep you confident in what you do." Knowing that nothing changed in me, I felt safe, fulfilled and very happy with that idea of "Sick" out of my head. I was just liberal and happiness was pouring out of my pores.

The Pandemic (2020) arrived and with this I stopped going to Gymnastics and I got a little depressed. I myself wanted to gain a little more up to 106 pounds due to the fact that the harassment was unbearable (something unfortunately very sad and worrisome) Wherever I went I attracted attention in a bad way, wherever I went I received insults and obscene words. Even Social Networks for me was a nightmare. They harassed me about Anorexic and wanting to encourage other girls to do the same. All that when I only led a normal life for my liking.

At 106 pounds, I was more or less escaping from this situation. I went away to the University to start my new life. I had a bad time and with it a bad experience. The quarantine made me lock myself in a room with no exit for 15 days. The food did not carry its respective labels, in addition to being highly processed and with junk that in my entire life I would never have consumed in that totality. (The treatment of the school was terrible, besides that I identified myself as Vegan to protect myself from foods that I would never or barely taste, I was not respected, and even insisting nothing change) I lost control, which made me realize how bad I was . School did not last long, I returned to my state in just 3 months, in which from 47 kilos I reached 57 of these. My ideas fell apart, I did not have that strength to protect me from all evil. Those traumatic ideas of the past returned and with these I felt a failure, but adding the fact that it was not my own initiative to get out of my sick situation.

With everything and this I want to say that an Eating Disorder goes beyond what the perspective makes us see. When I am almost 21 years old, I cannot overcome my traumas and the safest way to do so is by covering them in Anorexia. My case is very difficult to deal with and for this reason I return to being that old I of the past, we all deserve Happiness and I will therefore seek mine in one way or another. Nobody knows what goes on inside the mind of a sick person, so harassing and blaming someone for a disorder that is visible to you is in itself a void act of pure cowardice. For you who just want to try this sad world of Anorexia (or another eating disorder), I ask you please that it is not what it seems. Never try it for anything or anyone. A problem with food can be easily solved if you give yourself the courage to accept it and go to the doctor, however, these diseases as I said before go much further and must be treated for secondary factors and triggers. We seek to control our life, or heal all the wounds caused by covering them with an invisible and destructive force. This has been my own experience and opinion. Nice Day, and Take Care Precious. :)

Elisa Rodríguez, Leislanis Biderst

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originallandlockedmariner · 4 years

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Once again, I spent this afternoon discussing cultural influences, female disempowerment and toxic/hyper masculinity with my Senior Psych class. We focused on the ‘masks’ boys need to wear to ‘survive’ high school, emotional constipation, lack of role models, and using aggression as the default tool for problem solving… as well as, the immeasurable stress there is thrust upon young women to conform to unrealistic expectations.

After, I asked them to anonymously answer “If you really knew me…” crumple it up and toss it into my basket

Here’s a few of the responses:

If You Really Knew Me…

I have an eating disorder and struggle with a lot of mental health issues, which cause me to have terrible days and just not function some times.

I am depressed and that I have bad anxiety and OCD.

I’m always sad and put on a fake smile.

I have constantly sweaty hands from anxiety.

I felt so distant from the personalities of my friends, in order to feel control and fit in, I deeply researched Psychoanalytical Persuasion to subconsciously manipulate my group.

I feel I can’t talk to anyone.

My perfectionism gives me massive anxiety and depressive thoughts.

I think I’ve had depression since my mom’s cancer relapse.

I think if I wasn’t born my dad might still be alive, my mom could’ve saved him.

I hate school because of the stress; I’m not book smart so I don’t count.

I’m insecure about my appearance.

I don’t feel safe enough to come out.

I feel I won’t meet my family’s expectations of me.

I love sports but I still read every day.

I’m addicted to caffeine.

I’ve fought through two eating disorders and when I asked for help from my mom she only yelled at me and told me I needed to eat less.

I get bullied for being a virgin by my friends

My dad borrows money from me and never pays me back, it’s up to $8000 and I can’t pay for gas and insurance and save for school.

I do everything high.

I don’t want to be here.

I act dumb to fit in, it’s easier to go along with a group than act smart and get pushback.

#me #my class #psychology

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vexedtonightmares · 4 years

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last dance (elu ballet au) chapter dix-sept - epilogue

Lucas is in his final year at the Paris Opera Ballet School and he’ll be damned if he lets his former friend-turned-rival Eliott steal the lead role in their production of Swan Lake.

aka- lucas and eliott are rivals who are forced to room together for their final year of ballet school before they try to enter the company. we can all see where this is going.

i. ii. iii. iv. v. vi. vii. viii. ix. x. xi. xii. xiii. xiv. xv. xvi. xvii.

ao3

it’s so strange to be at the end of this fic, but thanks so everyone who’s read, commented, given me kudos, or supported this fic in any way. this version of lucas and eliott really mean a lot to me, and i’m glad they mean a lot to some of you too.

also sorry not sorry this is nearly 20k words but i’m a sucker for an epilogue.

l’amour gagne toujours. alt er love.

**tw: eating disorder, ed relapse, bipolar disorder, mentions of manic/ depressive episodes**

6 MONTHS LATER

Lucas sat frozen in his chair and set his phone down with shaking hands. He couldn’t decide if it was a good kind of shaking or a bad kind of shaking yet. He was fucked, he was so utterly fucked. He wished he had more time, but it had been six months, so he should have known this day would come eventually.

Eliott called out as he entered their suite, nearly singing his voice was so full of love for Lucas. It made him soften, just a bit, until he remembered why his hands had been shaking and his heart dropped to his stomach.

He couldn’t believe they only had a few days left at school, it seemed like just yesterday he was standing on stage performing as Prince Siegfried in their production of Swan Lake. It seemed like just yesterday he was auditioning for the show. It was crazy how long and how short six months could feel.

For example, for the last four months Lucas had been able to overcome his eating disorder. Not completely, he didn’t think he’d ever overcome it completely, but he was in a much healthier mindset now, thanks to Angelique and his friends and Eliott, and he really thought he might be able to make this last. There were still some daily struggles, mostly with his OCD and anxiety, but his medication did help, and so did therapy.

His clothes fit him better too, he didn’t feel ashamed every time he looked in the mirror. Instead of seeing skin and bones he saw muscle, color in his cheeks, and less darkness under his eyes. He didn’t hate catching glimpses of himself anymore, and Eliott made jokes about his ass way too often, but he still appreciated the normalization of it all.

He’d tried to do the same for Eliott, never be overbearing but provide support when Eliott had days that were too bad or too good, or maybe even a mix of the two. They’d fallen into a nice rhythm, the two of them, and their friends teased them endlessly for acting like a married couple. Lucas secretly warmed inside every time they said so, not that he’d ever admit it aloud.

Eliott poked his head into the room, grinning ear to ear. “G’day mate,” he said in an exaggerated Australian accent, and Lucas’ stomach roiled over itself again. That was the newest development in the great story of Lucas and Eliott, their decision for their futures. It hadn’t been a precise thing, they’d just taken a map and spun around a few times with their eyes closed, pointing and seeing where their fingers might land. Australia, it seemed, was what the fates had decreed for them, and they were both more excited than they could put into words.

They’d both used a weekend earlier in the spring to audition for the company, and they both made it, celebrating all night when they’d found out. Most of their friends were staying in Europe, it seemed, but Sofiane had also auditioned for the Australian Ballet and gotten in unbeknownst to any of them. It would be fun to be there with him though, Lucas and Eliott had rationalized, especially given the fact that Lucas was much closer with him now than he had been six months or a year ago.

Eliott frowned and entered the room, and Lucas realized he hadn’t responded. The truth was, he didn’t know how to. He’d gone with Manon and Daphné when they’d auditioned for the Royal Ballet for moral support, but they’d convinced him to audition last minute, and the call he’d just received had offered him a place in the Royal Ballet, should he want it. The bad thing, the thing that was making his heart beat rapidly and his stomach ache with unease, was that he did want it. More than Australia, despite all the plans he’d already made.

Eliott tapped Lucas’ wrist with one finger, grounding him and drawing him back into the present moment. “Are you ok?” Eliott asked, voice coated in sweetness.

Lucas nodded, then shook his head, then froze again, searching Eliott’s face for the right way to tell him that he wanted to go to London. Maybe it wasn’t too late for Eliott to audition, too.

“What’s wrong?” Eliott asked, sitting down on Lucas’ bed, probably still trying to gauge what Lucas was feeling.

Lucas didn’t want to say anything, because if he said it, then that made it real. And he didn’t want it to be real. But he did. But he didn’t. He just really didn’t want to part ways with Eliott, but the more he thought about it, the more he knew London was where he belonged.

“I was offered a contract for the Royal Ballet.” He wasn’t consciously aware of opening his mouth to speak, and judging by Eliott’s expression, maybe he hadn’t even spoken at all. He swallowed and opened his mouth, prepared to repeat, just in case, when Eliott sat back abruptly.

“I heard you.”

The softness in his voice wasn’t there anymore, and Lucas panicked internally. He never should have said anything, he never should have answered the call. If he didn’t know that he had a place in the Royal Ballet if he wanted it, he probably wouldn’t have wanted it, and he and Eliott could live out their Australian dreams together. They’d only chosen Australia because Lucas’ finger had landed on it on the map, Eliott probably hadn’t even wanted to go there in the first place. He shouldn’t have said anything, he shouldn’t have—

“Do you… want to accept?” Eliott’s words were slow, and Lucas still couldn’t get a read on him.

Tears pricked the corners of Lucas’ eyes as he admitted, “I do.”

In an instant, any defenses Eliott had built up dropped completely. He pulled Lucas closer by his hands, desk chair rolling over to where Eliott was still seated on the bed. His eyes were open and understanding and Lucas was struck with the feeling that he didn’t deserve someone like Eliott. Eliott laced their fingers together.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” was his only question, which seemed justified but also way too mild a reaction.

“I didn’t think I’d make it,” he answered honestly. His audition had been a mess, at least in terms of preparation. He’d probably danced fairly well, but he’d mostly done it because Manon and Daphné were excellent with peer pressure and he’d been too happy as of late to worry too much about it. He never really thought it was an option until it was one.

Eliott’s expression changed only in small amounts, the slight furrowing of his eyebrows or downturn of his mouth. “I didn’t even know you auditioned.”

Lucas shrugged helplessly. “Manon and Daphné convinced me, you know how they are. I really didn’t think that it would matter, because I was almost entirely certain I wouldn’t get offered a contract.”

“But what about Australia?”

What about Australia. That was the question, wasn’t it. “I wasn’t feigning enthusiasm, just so you know. Until like fifteen minutes ago I was all in,” Lucas said, knowing how bad it sounded regardless.

Eliott dropped his head but didn’t drop Lucas’ hands. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I don’t know,” Lucas scrambled for an explanation, realizing that there wasn’t one. He should have just been honest from the start, then maybe Eliott would be going to the Royal Ballet with him. His voice took on a strained tone. “I really don’t have an answer.”

“I don’t want to go without you, but I would never forgive myself if I made you come with me,” Eliott admitted.

“I want to be with you,” Lucas promised, “I just… I can’t explain it. When I was in London, I felt something inside my chest, a feeling that wouldn’t go away. I haven’t felt it in a long time, at least not in relation to ballet, and I think I’d be stupid not to chase it.”

“So, you’re sure, then, that you don’t… that you want to go to London?” Eliott confirmed. His head was still down, so Lucas couldn’t see his eyes and how they might be reacting. It didn’t seem right that he should be able to decide something so monumental so quickly, but maybe it was a sign that he was making the right choice.

“We’ll still talk every day, right? And come home for the holidays, or visit each other here and there. And who knows, this probably won’t be forever, maybe I’ll realize I made the wrong decision and come running to Australia in a few months,” Lucas tried to joke, but part of him was serious.

Eliott finally looked up at him, through his eyelashes. “Lucas, if you’re going to do this, you need to stop worrying about me, ok? Of course I’d rather be with you, but I’ll be fine, and so will you. Better than fine, because we’ll be living our dreams! Distance makes the heart grow fonder, right? Don’t go into this thinking about plans to fall back on, go into it as if this is it. I don’t want you to live half a life on my account.”

“I can’t imagine sleeping without you,” Lucas said, taking in all of Eliott’s words and processing them to the best of his current ability.

Eliott just shrugged, squeezing his hands. “Well then we’ll just have to make the most of the time we have left. Or I could print a pillowcase with my face on it for you to use in London.”

Lucas laughed, vocal chords still thick with unshed tears. “That’s not a terrible idea…”

“Wait, you have somewhere to live, right?” Eliott asked, just as the thought came into Lucas’ own mind. He did not, because he hadn’t been planning to be in London.

“Well, the thing about that is…” Lucas trailed off, but Eliott simply rolled his eyes fondly.

“We’re going to figure that out before anything else.”

“Eliott, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Eliott reassured him, pulling him closer again until he was practically in Eliott’s lap and not on his chair anymore. Lucas leaned in, waiting to see if Eliott would respond, and he did, meeting Lucas for a short but emotion filled kiss. It told Lucas everything that he needed to know and let the anxiety ease its way out of his mind and out of his body.

When they pulled away Lucas looked at Eliott with heavily hooded eyes. “I still love you as much as ever.”

“I know,” Eliott said, “I never thought you didn’t. Sometimes we have to do things for ourselves, though, even if we think they might hurt the people we love. Never choose me over yourself, Lucas, not when it comes to your happiness.”

“But what about you? Did you even want to go to Australia? It’s so far away, and you don’t know anyone there, and—”

“Lucas, Australia still sounds fucking amazing to me, I promise. Plus, Sofiane will be there too. I need something completely new, I think, and what’s more new than Australia?” The usual light had returned to Eliott’s eyes, and Lucas finally allowed himself to exhale. Eliott went on about Australia and all the things he was excited for, and Lucas indulged him, even chiming in with a few things he was excited for in London. A nine hour time difference wasn’t ideal, but they’d both have completely different perspectives on the world at the same time, and that was kind of cool. In a sense, it was almost like they’d be living in different universes, bringing the multiverse theory to life.

“Just don’t go falling in love with another Lucas,” Lucas said, wrapping his arms around Eliott’s neck.

Eliott scoffed, like the statement had offended him. “I could never. Not in a million years or universes.”

So they kissed again, and Lucas breathed a little easier, excited for all the possibilities ahead of him and still overwhelmingly in love with the boy who’d urged him to chase new dreams even when the old ones would have made him happier.

1 YEAR LATER

The winter wind nipped at Lucas’ cheeks, but he could hardly feel it, too hopped up on adrenaline. This was the first time he’d be seeing Eliott in person since he’d left for Australia, and he was so excited he could hardly sit still. They’d debated meeting back in Paris, but Eliott had wanted to experience Christmas in London and see Lucas’ new home of sorts, so that was what they had planned for.

Eliott’s parents obviously wanted to see him as well, so he and Lucas would go back to Paris at the end of their holiday break from their respective companies and meet up with them as well as some of their other friends from school before Eliott left again for Australia and Lucas left again for London. They only had two weeks total, one in London, one in Paris, and Lucas planned on taking advantage of every single minute.

He’d been living with Manon and Daphné since they’d all moved to London and joined the Royal Ballet, which wasn’t as horrible as it sounded. They were still the cutest couple he knew (other than himself and Eliott, obviously) and living with two girls was much more organized than with Yann or Eliott over the years. They were spending the holidays back in Paris with Mika and Lisa, Manon and Lucas’ old flatmates, probably so they could visit with Emma, Imane, and Alexia as well. As far as he knew, Emma and Imane had stayed in Paris at the Paris Opera Ballet, and Alexia was attending university in the city as well. Imane and Emma had both been shocked to have been offered contracts in the company, but they deserved it. He was pretty sure Chloé and Sarah in their year had stayed in Paris as well, but everyone else had dispersed across the world.

Yann had gone to Berlin, and he’d been loving it based on what he’d told Lucas. Lucas was also dying to see him, he’d gone far too long without best friend idiocy hours. Arthur, too, Lucas longed to see, but he wouldn’t have to wait as long. Arthur was supposed to meet him and Eliott in London for dinner later that night, choosing to spend the holidays in a city that didn’t remind him of things he’d rather forget. Lucas knew the feeling. He’d offered to have Arthur stay in the flat he shared with Manon and Daphné, since the two of them were gone, but Arthur had insisted on staying elsewhere with no explanation. He’d gone to the Dutch Ballet and was enjoying it quite well considering the fact he’d wanted to quit a year ago. Lucas felt like Arthur might have been keeping something from him, but he never pried, knowing Arthur would tell him when he was ready. Hopefully he wasn’t in love with Lucas again, but he didn’t think that was the case.

Lucas had made some new friends too, while in London, though none of them compared to the ones he’d grown up dancing with. Noora, from Norway, was really close with Manon, and they were eerily similar in Lucas’ opinion. She’d originally gone to London to be with her boyfriend, and she’d considered quitting ballet for him, but in the end she realized that she was worth more than her relationship with him and if he didn’t support her dreams then she didn’t need him around. It seemed to have paid off, because Noora was only two years older than them but she was already a principal dancer in the company.

Daphné had been jealous of Manon and Noora for a while, but Noora had apparently been seeing a lot more of one of her old high school friends recently, Eva, and she’d enlisted Manon and Daphné’s help in winning her heart.

There was also Sander, who reminded Lucas a lot of Eliott, but with bleached blond hair. Sander was the most chaotic of their new friends, but Lucas appreciated that energy because the girls were overall too sensible for him. Well, other than Isa. She and Lucas had hit it off right off the bat and she kept claiming he reminded her of one of her friends back in the Netherlands and would have to introduce the two of them when he came to visit, which he was supposedly doing over the holidays. Lucas wouldn’t mind hanging out with them and Eliott, he thought Eliott would like Isa a lot, because there was no way not to like Isa.

“Excuse me, do you know where I might find my boyfriend?” someone said to Lucas’ left and immediately his heart started to flutter. He’d been so distracted he’d forgotten where he was and why he was there.

He decided to play along. “What does he look like? A handsome French sort with dazzling eyes and a great ass?”

Looking Eliott in the eyes for the first time in six months was intoxicating, and Lucas could tell that Eliott felt the same way. They both stood there frozen, just looking at each other like they were the only two people in the world. Then Eliott snapped out of it. “I was going to say he kind of looks like a hedgehog, actually. Short… fluffy hair…”

He didn’t have the opportunity to finish, Lucas threw himself into Eliott’s arms and Eliott accepted him readily, pressing their lips together in what felt like the first kiss they’d ever shared. Maybe they looked a little dramatic, and maybe people were judging them, but Lucas didn’t care one bit. His soul had ached in Eliott’s absence, and now he felt whole again.

“… but he does have a great ass,” Eliott finished once they separated, goofy smile on his face.

“I love you so much,” Lucas said, not even embarrassed by the fact that he was on the verge of tears.

Eliott’s hands brushed both sides of his face as he pulled Lucas closer to him, resting their foreheads together. “I love you too. I missed you so much— god, I don’t even know where to start.”

“Let’s start with a nap,” Lucas suggested, leaning away and holding his hand out for Eliott to take. Eliott took it, and they started to walk away, Eliott dragging a suitcase behind him.

“I’m not that tired—” Eliott tried, but Lucas shook his head.

“Three things. One, yes you are, jet lag is a bitch, two, I’m not about to have you fall asleep during dinner with Arthur later, and three, you have no idea how much I missed sleeping with you.” Lucas ticked off each one on his free hand, and Eliott raised his eyebrows suggestively. He blushed bright red. “I meant— you know what I meant.” He paused, growing redder still. “But that too.”

Needless to say, they made their way to Lucas’ flat much more quickly after that.

——

Eliott looked much more well rested by the time they started walking to dinner, even though they really hadn’t slept that much. First he’d had to give Eliott the grand tour of the two bedroom flat he’d come to call home (well, not first, first, they’d had some other business to attend to before that), and then they’d talked for quite a while, not even about ballet, just about life.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t spoken nearly every day they’d been apart, but being there in person was entirely new and entirely the same all at once. They fell quickly back into old patterns and Lucas didn’t think his smile had left his face once, even while he slept tucked into Eliott’s side.

It was snowing while they walked, and Lucas had offered to pay for a cab, but Eliott insisted on walking, taking advantage of all the city had to offer. In such a short amount of time Lucas had really come to adore London. It didn’t compare to Paris, of course it didn’t, but he could see himself being happy there for a very long time. He didn’t want to say anything, but he’d secretly been harboring the fantasy of Eliott joining him there next year.

Eliott was wearing a beanie and his cheeks were pink from the cold, but his hand was laced through Lucas’ and his eyes were full of wonder like the cold was the last thing on his mind. He kept rambling about all the things he wanted to do while they were together and Lucas had barely responded, watching and listening with such adoration usually only reserved for puppies on Instagram.

Two hands appeared over Lucas’ eyes and he laughed shortly until he realized it couldn’t have been Eliott, whose hand was still in his. His brows furrowed, but then he realized that if Eliott wasn’t freaking out there was only one person it could be.

“Arthur?” he asked, and the hands fell from his eyes, the boy in question jumping around to stand right in front of him.

“Lulu!” They both broke into wide grins meeting halfway for a tight hug. Arthur and Eliott hugged afterwards, with only a little bit less enthusiasm. Lucas wondered briefly how many people from school Eliott had kept in touch with.

“How have you two been?” Arthur asked, falling into step beside them.

Eliott and Lucas shared a glance, deciding how to answer and who was going to answer first. Eliott raised his eyebrows, and Lucas spoke. “Better now that we’re together.”

“Ugh, did not miss you two being all sappy and gross, that’s for sure,” Arthur said, pretending to gag. They entered the restaurant, Lucas catching a curly brown haired boy’s eye as they did.

Lucas looked away from the boy who was still looking at them, rolling his eyes at Arthur. Eliott teased, nudging Arthur’s side, “Aww, we’ll find you a Lucas someday, then we’ll complain about how gross and sappy you are.”

To Lucas’ surprise, Arthur flushed bright red, blinking rapidly. His eyes caught on something over Lucas’ shoulder. “About that—”

He was cut off by the same boy Lucas had just locked eyes with clearing his throat and blushing either from the cold or from something else entirely. Lucas looked at him, then at Eliott, then back at him, but he was no longer paying attention to Lucas or Eliott.

“I was wondering when you’d get here,” the boy said in a soft voice, to Arthur. Arthur was still bright red but his eyes held a gleam of joy.

“Here I am,” he said, and both boys grinned stupidly. Eliott and Lucas exchanged another glance, this one with wide eyes.

The boy took a small step closer to Arthur. “There you are.”

Lucas felt like he was encroaching on something and briefly wondered if this was how other people felt about being around him and Eliott. Of course, he could have been reading into things… but nope, the boy with the curly hair just kissed Arthur and Arthur looked like he’d made it to heaven and was never coming back down.

Eliott cleared his throat softly, more to remind Arthur and the boy of their presence than to intrude on something intimate. Both boys turned to them with wide eyes, the curly haired boy looking happy and open and Arthur’s expression shifting to something more nervous.

“This is my boyfriend, Lucas,” Arthur said, eyes looking everywhere but Lucas and Eliott.

Lucas broke into a wide grin that he tried to downplay for the other boy’s sake. “Nice to meet you, what’s your name?” Lucas asked.

Arthur looked at him with exasperation. “Lucas.”

“What?” Lucas demanded defensively. Was it so weird to ask someone’s name?

Arthur’s boyfriend laughed, shaking his head. “No, my name, it’s Lucas, Lucas Van der Heijden. I assume you’re the famous other Lucas I’ve heard so much about?”

Lucas shut his eyes in embarrassment, trying to figure out how to not look like an idiot from here on out. “Fuck, sorry. Yeah, I’m other Lucas, and this is my boyfriend, Eliott.”

Other Lucas, who Lucas decided he was going to refer to in his head as VDH so he wouldn’t confuse himself, had an accent that sounded vaguely familiar, though Lucas couldn’t quite place it. Just as Lucas was about to inquire into VDH a bit more, the host gestured for them to follow to a table. Lucas met Arthur’s eyes with a look that said, You are not off the hook for not telling me, and Arthur levelled him with one that said, Sure, Mr. I dated Eliott in secret for months while we all lived and danced together. Which, fair enough.

They sat in a booth, Eliott and Lucas across from VDH and Arthur, and Eliott asked the question that was on Lucas’ mind. “So how and when did you guys meet?”

“We dance together, Luc is in the Dutch Ballet as well,” Arthur answered, and Lucas smiled slightly at the nickname use. It was like when Eliott called him Lu, so intoxicating and so intimate all at once.

VDH nodded, grinning at Arthur. “I’m from the Netherlands, so I graciously introduced him to all the best things our country has to offer.”

Ah, so that’s where the accent was from, and he recognized it because of Isa. “One of my friends at the Royal Ballet is from the Netherlands,” Lucas said, trying to relate in any way he could. He liked VDH so far, but he was always scared of new conversations with new people.

VDH perked up. “Oh, really? That’s awesome, I have a friend here too. That’s why we’re here, actually, I wanted to visit her here for the holidays and Arthur wanted to visit you, so voila.” That answered the question of where Arthur was staying.

“How’d she end up in London?” Eliott asked, thanking the server who supplied them with menus and glasses of water.

“Same as Lucas, she’s in the Royal Ballet,” Arthur answered.

“Isa Keijser?” Lucas asked at the same time VDH said, “Isa Keijser? I don’t know if you know her.”

They stared at each other for a minute, then burst out laughing. “You must be the French dumbass she’s always talking about, then,” VDH said with half a grin, and Lucas scoffed.

“She could very well be talking about Manon or Daphné,” he argued, and Eliott levelled him with a stare. He rolled his eyes, cracking a small smile. “But, yeah, she was probably talking about me. She’s told me about you too, actually, she just never referred to you by name.”

“It would be so her style to intentionally not tell you my name to confuse us when and if we met for the first time,” VDH sighed fondly. Lucas laughed, nodding in agreement. The waiter returned and Lucas realized he hadn’t looked at the menu. Truthfully, he wasn’t very hungry, but he wasn’t about to say anything when Eliott and Arthur were there and that was the entire reason they’d met up.

He wasn’t slipping into old habits, he was fine. Things had just been so busy leading up to the holidays and he’d been missing Eliott extra and food was never something he’d paid enough attention to. Ok, maybe he was slipping back into old habits, but he had it under control. Now that Eliott was there, he already felt better.

Regardless, he ordered something random off the menu, knowing that Eliott would probably like it if he didn’t, and tuned back into the conversations being had. Eliott was telling Arthur and VDH about Australia, about the places he’d been and the people he’d met. Apparently Sofiane had hit it off immediately with two dancers from Germany, Mohammed and Amira. He said Amira reminded him of a slightly softer but no less badass version of Imane, something Sofiane likely noticed too. Eliott had hit it off with an Italian boy named Niccolo, who he’d told Lucas about already. He wasn’t a dancer, but he was a piano accompanist and he composed music in his free time. Lucas had joked that Niccolo would replace him as the composer for Polaris and Eliott had assured him that could never happen, not in a million years. Even though Lucas had been mostly joking, it warmed his heart to know that Polaris was still their thing. Shay was another one of Eliott’s friends in Australia, from America, and Lucas had met her over Facetime a few times. She reminded him of himself in some ways, kind of like Manon and Noora, and he really wanted to meet her when he visited Eliott.

Lucas was surprised but glad to see a new light in Arthur’s eyes as he talked about dancing in the Dutch Ballet, and Lucas could tell that Arthur was a little surprised by it himself. Arthur had found a completely random flat when he’d moved to the Netherlands, and his roommates, Liv and Ralph, were already friends with VDH, so they’d been forced to hang out quite often. Apparently VDH was practically the star of their company, but Arthur had given him a run for his money. Instead of turning it into a rivalry, they’d slowly become friends, then more, and the rest was history. Lucas knew who Liv was, vaguely, because Isa talked about her friend Liv a lot and he assumed this had to be the same person. It was crazy, how small of a world it was that they lived in.

Their conversations flowed nicely the rest of the time they sat at the restaurant, and Lucas pretended not to notice the small looks Eliott was giving him all night. He didn’t know what it was all about, but he figured Eliott would tell him later when they were alone.

He was glad that Arthur had found someone— his own Lucas if you will— that made him feel like the best version of himself all the time. Sure, he didn’t necessarily need it, but he deserved it. He supposed he’d never have to wonder again if another universe Lucas and another universe Arthur had ended up together, because somehow they had in this one. Maybe VDH was a parallel version of Lucas, wouldn’t that be something.

After what might have been anywhere between two and four hours, Lucas noticed Eliott’s eyes starting to droop and they decided to call it a night, promising to hang out together again before Eliott and Lucas left for Paris. Once they parted ways, Lucas tucked himself close into Eliott’s side and started going on about VDH, Arthur, and VDH and Arthur. He paused when he realized Eliott wasn’t responding.

“Is everything ok?” he asked. Maybe Eliott was just tired, he rationalized.

Eliott looked at him, face serious, voice casual. “You barely ate anything.”

Lucas’ heart dropped to his stomach. He should have known Eliott would notice those things. It hadn’t been intentional, it really hadn’t, he just didn’t have an appetite.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Lucas said, “But I’m not— I’m still doing good, I promise.”

“Lucas…” Eliott started, but Lucas cut him off.

“I promise, Eliott. Ok? I just get distracted by conversation when we eat, you know that.” He was vaguely aware that he sounded a bit like he was pleading, which didn’t bode well for him.

Eliott sighed, stopping to turn and face him head on. “I just want to make sure that you’re ok. You’re the most important person to me, and I worry about you even when I know I shouldn’t.”

Lucas stepped closer so they were toe to toe. “I worry about you too. It’s the nature of caring, to worry, but I believe in you, and I know that you can handle whatever life throws your way, you’re too strong not to. I need you to think the same of me.”

“I do, Lucas, but—” Eliott cut himself off, entwining his pointer fingers with Lucas’. He continued, “I trust you. And I believe in you. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, I know you can handle whatever life throws at you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t wish you didn’t have to, you know?”

Lucas did know. He’d known it since he’d come to Eliott’s house and found him curled into a ball on his bed looking like he never wanted to leave. If he could make it so Eliott only ever experience the good in life, he would do it in a heartbeat. He nodded. “I know.”

“I just love you too much to ever want to see you anything less than one hundred percent happy, which I know is a stupid dream, and I do love when you’re a grumpy little shit too, but you deserve the world even though you have a habit of forgetting that,” Eliott said.

Lucas closed his eyes, letting the winter wind settle across his face and letting Eliott’s words be imprinted in his mind. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too.”

“Now why don’t we go home, and I’ll make us both a big blueberry-bacon muffin filled breakfast tableau tomorrow morning,” Lucas suggested, ghosting his lips close to Eliott’s. Eliott smiled leaning in ever so slightly.

“That sounds amazing, love,” he agreed, leaning in further, and Lucas pulled back.

He squinted. “Love?”

“When in London,” Eliott said with a dopey grin and a shrug, and Lucas kissed him senseless right there in the middle of the street. Everything was how it should be.

18 MONTHS LATER

Lucas was panicking. None of it had been intentional, but he’d skipped over a month of therapy sessions and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten an actual meal, and it was starting to show. He wasn’t quite where he’d been in his last year of school, but he was pretty close. He’d ridden the high of seeing Eliott for a week or two after the holidays, but then they’d started casting and rehearsal for a new show and even though he was just in the corps rehearsals were a million times more taxing than they had been at school and he felt himself slipping ever so slightly day by day without Eliott there to ground him. It didn’t help that Eliott had seemingly forgotten about him, Facetime conversations going from daily to weekly to whenever they could find time. He knew Eliott was busy with his show as well, but it still stung to not hear from him for days on end.

He’d wanted to tell Eliott about everything that was going on inside his mind to try to find some clarity, but he didn’t want their first real conversation in almost a month to be about something so negative. So, he got better at hiding things again, feeling ashamed for doing so but having no intention of stopping. He wouldn’t see Eliott in person for a little while anyway, so all he had to do was get himself back on track by then and he’d never have to own up to the fact that he’d been faking happiness for a few months.

Manon had noticed, and she’d tried to talk to him, but when he didn’t want to talk there was nothing she, or anyone (besides Eliott) could do to make him. Still, she was watching him closely, and he knew that she’d intervene if things got too bad again.

It was Saturday, so he had a day off and had planned on spending it in bed watching tv and trying to forget that Eliott had cancelled their Facetime date for that day, even though he didn’t have rehearsals on weekends either.

The buzzer to the flat rang and Lucas rolled his eyes, wondering if Daphné had forgotten her keys again. “Manon, the door,” he yelled, receiving no response. Groaning, he got out of bed as the buzzer rang again, peeking his head into Manon and Daphné’s room and finding it empty. He didn’t know when Manon had left, but cursed her for making him get out of bed, especially if it was because she and Daphné had both forgotten their keys.

He pressed the button to let them in, unlocking the door to their unit and hoping they would just walk right in instead of waiting for him to open that one too. Just as he reached his bedroom door, there was a knock, and he groaned again, yelling, “It’s open!”

A muffled voice came from the other side of the door. “Special delivery for Lucas Lallemant!”

Lucas froze, because he recognized that voice. Even though he might have been hallucinating, he ran to the door as fast as his feet would carry him, throwing it open and finding Eliott on the other side, a bouquet of flowers in hand. His smile was so bright that it nearly brought Lucas to tears and Lucas launched himself into Eliott’s arms, pulling him into the flat.

Eliott threw the flowers onto the table before fully hugging Lucas back, stiffening once he did. Lucas pulled away, confused. “Everything ok?”

Eliott looked down at him, face pale, then blinked a few times and forced a smile. “Yeah, of course.”

Lucas smiled, lacing his arms around Eliott’s neck. “What are you doing here?”

“I missed you,” Eliott said with a shrug, “Wanted to surprise you.”

Lucas’ heart melted as he buried his face in Eliott’s chest. Eliott continued, “I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend recently. I’m really sorry about it, and I wanted to make it up to you. I can’t stay long because of rehearsals, but I wanted to make sure you know that you’re still the most important person in my life.”

“I missed you so much,” Lucas said, holding Eliott tighter than ever. “Want to…” He trailed off suggestively, nodding to his bedroom. Eliott’s face turned red but his eyes were bright with longing and desire.

“Of course,” Eliott responded, and that was all Lucas needed to crash their lips together, stumbling across the flat until they made it into his room, slamming the door shut behind them in case Manon or Daphné arrived while they were occupied.

Lucas pulled off Eliott’s shirt, peppering kisses down his neck and his torso, making Eliott’s breaths ragged. Eliott’s fingers fiddled with the bottom of Lucas’s shirt and Lucas grinned into another kiss, allowing them to separate only long enough to remove his own shirt. He moved to pull Eliott back in for a kiss when Eliott stopped him, same wide eyed anxious look he’d had on his face moments earlier.

Lucas frowned folding their hands together, and Eliott wrenched them apart, leaving Lucas to go sit on the edge of the bed with his face in his hands. Lucas didn’t know what was wrong, what had changed. When Eliott finally looked at him, his eyes were red, like he was on the verge of tears.

“You told me everything was fine,” Eliott said, “You told me not to worry, and that you’d tell me if there ever was a problem.”

Lucas froze where he stood, understanding more clearly the cause of Eliott’s current distance. He picked his shirt up off the floor and put it back on, wrapping his arms around his body as if that would do anything to cover it. “There isn’t a problem,” he tried, but Eliott shook his head, devastation turning to anger.

“Lucas there’s barely anything left of you.”

Lucas shook his head, sitting down next to Eliott and reaching for one of his hands. Eliott pulled away, looking betrayed.

“How long has this been going on again? It’s been this way since Christmastime, right? Maybe even before?” Eliott broke off, putting his head in his hands again. “You don’t trust me, is that it? Lucas don’t you see what you’re doing to yourself?”

“Maybe it isn’t about you!” Lucas said angrily, and Eliott blinked up at him in shock. That was a lie, a little bit of it was about Eliott, but he wouldn’t give Eliott that satisfaction of thinking he was the only thing in Lucas’ world.

Eliott’s voice turned pleading. “Lu, don’t you see that I’m just upset because I care about you?”

“I know that you do.” Lucas ran a hand through his hair, sobs bubbling up in his chest and begging to break free. Eliott looked at him, really looked at him, and the dam broke wide open. “I just feel so alone. I have so many people here that I really like, but none of them are you, none of them are Yann or Arthur or Basile or Imane. I have Manon, but she has Daphné, and every time I see them, I think of you. But I don’t even have you, not really, because you have a beautiful amazing life without me, and I’m just the fucking mess of a boy you stupidly fell in love with. I’m good, but I’m not good enough. I was only ever good enough for you and that’s not even true anymore. The only thing you do is worry about me, I can see it in your eyes, and that’s not a relationship. Maybe you do have reason to worry, but I don’t feel like a real person when that’s all I see when I look at you. Worry, worry, worry. I’m not a child, I’m an adult, and yeah, I’m fucked up on so many levels that you probably should worry, but I also fear I’m never going to get better until people stop fucking worrying. You care about me, you care about me, you all fucking care about me, but I’m always the problem.”

Eliott’s arms wrapped around Lucas as he sobbed, spilling tears onto Eliott’s shirt. It was a new shirt, Lucas noticed, and for some reason that made him cry harder. “I’m tired, Eliott, I’m so tired, because I never sleep anymore, and I feel like I’m dying all the time. I don’t want to die, but I think I might and I don’t know how to stop it from happening.”

“Lucas, Lucas, look at me.” Eliott’s eyes were wide and wild as he held Lucas’ face in his hands. “You’re not dying. I won’t let that happen, ok? I could never let that happen. I’m not— ok, maybe I am a little bit worried about you, but I promise it comes from a place of love. I try to live minute by minute, like you told me when I was diagnosed, and I want you to keep trying to do that too. In this minute, how about we breathe, ok?”

Lucas nodded, infinitesimally, tears still streaking down his face. Eliott breathed in deeply, and Lucas followed, feeling his eyes water and his mouth wobble even as he did so. Eliott kept his hands on Lucas’ face, breathing out and waiting for Lucas to follow. They did that a couple more times, until Lucas’ heart rate was back to normal even if slow tears were still falling.

“Lucas,” Eliott said, dropping his hands to Lucas’ hands. “I don’t love you because I have to, I love you because I want to, and I choose to every day.”

Lucas shook his head. “You say that but—”

“Lucas. I love you. There are no buts.”

Lucas sniffed, clenching Eliott’s hands in his. “I was so happy. I was doing so good.”

“We all have setbacks. Healing takes time, and in that time we’re allowed moments of weakness, because they only make us stronger going forward.” He paused, looking like he had more to say but didn’t want to say it. “I, um, had a depressive episode, a little while back. When I stopped responding like I usually did. I remembered you talking about not wanting to worry, and I figured it would pass because I was taking my medication and going to therapy, but it didn’t pass for a long time. I still feel like I might not be back to one hundred percent, but I knew the only way to get there was to see you again, so here I am.”

Lucas blinked in surprise He’d never even considered… he felt like an idiot. “You have no right to be mad at me for not telling you things, then.” He’d forgotten that he got a bit too defensive when confronted with his own faults.

Instead of rising to Lucas’ defensiveness, Eliott crumbled. “I know. It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you, its just I— I’m a bad person, a bad boyfriend, I know that, but I never wanted you to.”

“Eliott you’re neither of those things.”

“Neither are you.”

“Eliott.”

“Lucas.”

They looked at each other earnestly, honestly, seeing more than what was on the surface for the first time in far too long. It was easy to get swept away by love and longing when they were only together for a short amount of time, easy to put aside the hurt and the pain and let themselves feel loved, but in reality they were two lost boys still trying to find a way to live in a world that was determined to break them down to nothing.

“I know things have to change,” Lucas said, because now that Eliott was there, he did. He couldn’t stand the broken look in Eliott’s eyes when he’d realized Lucas was back to who he’d been a year and a half ago. He continued, “But I can’t count on you, on us, to make that change.”

Eliott furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

“I need to learn how to come back from this on my own.”

Eliott’s face hardened. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.” He truly didn’t know. The last thing he ever wanted to do not be with Eliott, but it wasn’t like they were really together at the present time anyway, and clearly he couldn’t cope properly with that. “I think maybe I have to stop being so dependent on you to make everything better.”

“Lucas—” Eliot sounded confused, and Lucas couldn’t blame him. “You’re anything but dependent on me. Sometimes I wish you needed me a bit more, because being there for you is one of my favorite things.”

“I am too dependent, though, because I can’t function properly without you around. Maybe it has nothing to do with you at all, but I need to figure that all out on my own. I learned to love myself a little more with you, but I need to learn to love myself without you, do you understand? I hate myself so much, all the time, but you put those rose colored glasses on my eyes that make me not see it for a little while. It’s not a bad thing, it’s a great thing, actually, but you’re in Australia, and I’m in London, for who knows how long, and I don’t want to always have to count on other people to bring me back to a healthy state of mind, I want to be able to do it myself, or at least realize when things are getting bad and feel comfortable reaching out.” He was spewing words without thinking about them, but he realized they were all true.

Eliott bit his lip. “So where do I— where do we fit into all of this, then?”

It hurt Lucas more than anything, and he regretted the words before they even left his mouth, but he knew it was the right thing to say. “I don’t think we do, at least not right now.”

“But Lucas…” Eliott’s face crumbled and Lucas felt pain twist in his chest like never before. “You’re my forever.”

“You’re mine too,” Lucas said, urgency in his voice. He meant it, he really did. He’d never love anyone like Eliott, and he didn’t want to. “We might just have to put a pause on forever until I figure out who I am on my own.”

Eliott dropped Lucas’ hands, and the loss was felt by both of them instantly. Lucas stammered over his words, feeling sobs bubble in his chest again. “I- I don’t expect you to wait for me. You have so much love to give, and I don’t want you wasting it on me. You’re free to find a new forever, if you want.”

“I could never,” Eliott said, shaking his head. His voice was thick, but he looked more certain than ever. “You’re my forever, Lucas, I can wait as long as you need me to. I want to.”

It went against every bit of his better judgement, but he couldn’t help himself, he pulled Eliott into him and their lips met in a searing, sorrowful kiss. It tasted like tears on both ends but neither of them cared much. Lucas knew he was making the right decision, but it hurt so badly and he just wanted to ease the pain, if only for a moment. He could tell Eliott felt the same, so when Eliott lifted Lucas’ shirt, he gave in willingly, undoing Eliott’s jeans and finishing what they’d put on hold. He hoped dearly it wasn’t the last time, that it was just a goodbye for now, but if it was the end, at least they went out with a bang.

2 YEARS LATER

Paris looked as beautiful as it always did, but Lucas was seeing it with new eyes. The last six months had been a lot, mentally and emotionally, but as he looked out at the city he knew so well, he knew that it had all been worth it. Sure, presently he was only seeing it through a few windows, but after a few more papers, a few more signatures, and he’d be back to the hustle and bustle of everyday life, and he finally felt ready to tackle it.

He’d been more of a mess than usual after Eliott’s impromptu visit from Australia, even though their decision to pause things between them had been Lucas’ idea. Fortunately for him, Manon had enough and forced him to make changes for real. He started going back to therapy, but it wasn’t enough, and he made the painful decision to put his career on hold to get his life back on track and checked himself into a facility in Paris that specialized in eating disorder recovery. Paris had been the only option for him, really, because no matter how much he loved London, his heart was in the city he’d called home for eighteen years.

It had been hell at first, and he’d regretted every choice he’d made since Eliott’s visit, maybe even before then, but as the days turned into weeks and then into months, he knew that he’d made the right decision. He kept up with his ballet, giving himself private lessons in his room during free time because fucked up or not, he was still planning on dancing as long as humanly possible. He’d kept in touch with all of his friends, but particularly Manon, Yann, and Arthur, and that had really pulled him through a lot of hard times. He hadn’t spoken to Eliott since he’d left Lucas’ flat in London for the last time, and though he ached to, a part of him was fearful that Eliott had forgotten him, left him like people in his life always tended to do.

He wasn’t allowed his own phone while in treatment, so he couldn’t even check Eliott’s social media to see what he was up to in Australia, if he was doing ok or not, so he tried his best not to think about it. Of course, Eliott had been one of the many things he’d talked about in therapy sessions, but all of it had only made him realize that Eliott truly was who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

It hadn’t ever been a doubt, not really, but Lucas felt comfortable enough in where he was and who he was that he knew he wouldn’t place all his value into solely his relationship or ballet ever again. He was a pretty great person, it turned out, it had just taken him nineteen years to realize it.

He was handed his phone back, and he turned it on for the first time in months, bombarded by a barrage of notifications. He deleted most of them, knowing they’d been sent before the senders had known where he was and that he didn’t have use of his phone. Thankfully, he had no messages from his father. He hadn’t been expecting it, he hadn’t heard from him since before his last year at school, when he’d caused him to have a breakdown in front of Manon, leading to Lucas’ summer in the colloc, but there was still that fear that one day he might try to reenter Lucas’ life and make it hell.

There were messages from Eliott, a lot of them, as well as some missed calls and voicemails, but Lucas couldn’t bring himself to look at any of them. He knew that he should have told Eliott where he was going, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to. He knew Eliott would support him in something drastic as this, but he also hadn’t wanted that pity, that worry that had prompted all this in the first place.

“Lucas?” the receptionist said, and he realized she’d been trying to get his attention.

He blinked and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, um, yes?”

“You’re free to go,” she said with a warm smile that he couldn’t help but return. He hadn’t felt this kind of happiness since the show, his final year of school, and this happiness had nothing to do with anyone other than himself, which made it better than anything he’d ever experienced. He was sure there would be more moments throughout his life to top this one, and that this one might pale in comparison to other memories over time, but this feeling, this moment, was all his own.

It was all his own, but in realizing that he realized that it didn’t have to be all his own, that he wanted to share it, because he knew that it wouldn’t diminish the joy he felt on his own. He wanted to share it with Eliott, but he couldn’t because Eliott was in Australia, and Eliott probably thought Lucas didn’t love him anymore.

Well, he’d share it with Imane, then. Since she was still in Paris, he’d called her the week before to see if he could stay with her until he found his footing wherever he was off to next, and she’d readily agreed, only hesitation being that she was living with Idriss currently, and Idriss still spoke to Eliott frequently. It wouldn’t be a problem, he’d assured her, because he did plan on reaching out to Eliott again, hopefully pressing play and picking up where they left off. That was, if he wasn’t too much of a coward to do so.

He pushed open the doors and breathed in the fresh, winter air. It was nearly Christmas, and there was a very thin layer of snow dusting the pavement, something that didn’t happen very often, and Lucas felt like it was there just for him. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back to the sky, smiling despite everything that he still needed to do to get himself fully back on track. In this one minute, he didn’t have a care in the world.

He opened his eyes, gazing up at the sky for a minute and all the stars dotting it, seeing his breath in the air as he exhaled before he dropped his eyes back to what was in front of him and stepping back into the real world.

Just as he took the first step, his eyes caught on someone at the end of the sidewalk, leaning against a streetlight like they were exactly where they were meant to be. It couldn’t be— he had no way of knowing where Lucas was and when he was getting out… Lucas took a few hesitant steps, breath catching in his throat as he took in the sight of Eliott Demaury, grinning ear to ear like his Christmas wishes had just come true in front of his eyes.

Seeing Eliott there, smiling like he was, Lucas couldn’t stop his own smile from overtaking his face, walking quicker and quicker to the man of his dreams. “Eliott, how did you— what are you—”

He didn’t have a chance to finish, because Eliott met him in a few long strides, cupping his face with both hands and kissing him so hard he saw stars. He kissed Eliott back, wondering briefly if he was dreaming.

“Lucas, I love you so much,” was the first thing Eliott said when they broke apart, foreheads resting together like they did so often. They swayed there together for a minute, neither one of them speaking, dancing to the music of their souls finding their way back to one another.

“I love you too, Eliott, I love you too.” Lucas was crying, but these were tears of pure joy, pure love, and they both could see it. “You look great,” he said, because Eliott did, there wasn’t a day that he didn’t.

“You look better,” Eliott countered, and Lucas laughed, a loud joyous sound.

“I am,” he agreed, “Better, that is. I’m sorry for everything, for not telling you where I was going, for not calling, for suggesting we pause in the first place—”

“Hey,” Eliott cut him off, running his thumbs up and down Lucas’ cheekbones. “You have nothing to apologize for. Look at me, look how happy I am. It’s all because of you, because I get to see you, hold you, love you, and wait for you, even if I wasn’t entirely sure you wanted me to.”

He was happy, Lucas could see it, there wasn’t a hint of worry in his face, even though there was plenty of reason for there to be. It made Lucas feel a little lighter, smile a little brighter. Fuck him, even his thoughts were coming out in stupid rhymes now.

“Thank you for waiting,” Lucas said genuinely, because if he couldn’t apologize he could at least show his gratitude.

“It was my pleasure,” Eliott said, “Now come on, let’s go home.”

He stuck a hand out for Lucas to take, and Lucas obliged with a beaming smile. “Home?” he asked, but Eliott just raised an eyebrow, planting a kiss on his forehead.

——

Home, it seemed, was the house of Harold and Caroline Demaury, a place Lucas hadn’t visited since Eliott was diagnosed two years ago. The year before when they’d visited Paris, he and Eliott had stayed with Imane and Idriss, visiting with his parents for dinner but nothing beyond that. He texted Imane about his change of plans and she told him that she already knew, but her flat was open to him anytime in case he had a change of heart. This partially answered some of Lucas’ questions about how Eliott had known where he was and why he was there, but there were still more answers he’d need before the night was up.

Harold and Caroline welcomed him like their own son, and Lucas wondered what Eliott had told them about why Lucas was in Paris, or if he’d told them anything at all. It wasn’t very late, but Lucas was a bit exhausted so he didn’t engage much in conversation. Eliott picked up on this, eyes softening with understanding as he placed his hand on Lucas’ leg.

“Mom, Dad, is it ok if we call it quits for the night?” he asked, smiling earnestly.

“Oh, of course. You two must be tired. Let me know if you need anything at all,” she said, warmth evident in her voice. Lucas and Eliott stood to leave the room, and she spoke up again. “And Lucas? I’m glad to have you back here, and know that you’re welcome anytime.”

He smiled, feeling Eliott’s hand slip into his. “Thank you, Caroline. It means a lot.”

They walked the short distance to Eliott’s bedroom in silence, hand in hand. Lucas didn’t know what he should be feeling at the moment, but he mostly just felt happy. Maybe that was wrong, maybe he should have waited before jumping back into the life he’d put on pause, but it felt right being there with Eliott and his parents.

Lucas tried to speak, but Eliott cut him off by throwing a hoodie his way, raising his eyebrows as he changed out of his own clothes into more comfortable ones. Most of Lucas’ things were still in London, actually, he hoped Manon and Daphné hadn’t gotten rid of them or gotten a roommate to take his place just yet. They’d assured him he needn’t worry about the rent while he was away, but he was a bit worried regardless.

Eliott was wearing a simple pair of sweatpants and a red t shirt Lucas recognized as one of his, but he didn’t say anything because he wasn’t even sure if that fact had registered with Eliott. They both crawled into bed, Lucas in Eliott’s hoodie and his underwear, but they had no intention of sleeping just yet. They needed to talk, and most of their best talks happened in hushed whispers, faces nearly pressed together sharing the same pillow.

“How did you know where I was? And when I was leaving?” Lucas asked before Eliott had a chance to say anything.

“I still talk to people from school too, you know,” Eliott said, then, “Imane told me, she thought I’d want to know, please don’t be mad at her.”

Lucas shook his head. “I’m not mad at her.” He didn’t say anything else, trying to figure out what to say. That question had been answered, but did he even have any more? Should he apologize for leaving Eliott in the dark for so long?

“Was this presumptuous of me?” Eliott asked, voice strained.

Lucas furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

“Was it presumptuous of me to be there, to think you wanted me to be there?” Eliott’s voice was small, like he was scared of the answer.

Lucas looked at him a little more closely mapping out the face of the only person he’d ever loved, at least in such an eternal way. Before he could answer, Eliott continued, “I just wanted you to know that of all the people that have left in your life, I’ll never be one of them. I know that ‘for better or for worse’ is a marriage vow, but I’m in it with you one hundred percent, for better or for worse. Even if the worse requires a little time apart to figure things out, know that I’ll always be rooting for you, and that I’ll wait for you no matter how long we’re apart.”

Lucas placed his hand on the side of Eliott’s face, and Eliott melted into the touch, closing his eyes instinctively. “It wasn’t presumptuous of you.”

Eliott’s hand rested on top of his on Eliott’s cheek and all Lucas felt was warmth. “I thought about it a lot, what I would do and say when I saw you again, because I’ve fucked up so many times by now that I figured I’d owe you a million apologies if you even wanted to see me at all. But then, when I saw you there, I realized that all I wanted was you and that I wasn’t going to stand in my own way anymore. I know who I am without you now, and I’m comfortable with that person, but I don’t think that it’s a bad thing to love myself a little bit more when I’m with you, because it only shows how much love I’m capable of giving. I’m in a better place than I’ve ever been, and I can’t thank you enough for allowing me the time to figure out a lot of the shit that’s been circulating in my head longer than I can remember. I’ve had time to heal on my own, but I’m ready for the beginning of the rest of my life, a life with you by my side. If you still want to be there, that is.”

Eliott opened his eyes. “Of course I do. Of course I want to be there. I love you exponentially, remember?”

“I love you exponentially,” Lucas repeated in a whisper, allowing himself a smile at the memories of laying exactly like this but under entirely different circumstances. He looked at their hands, then into Eliott’s eyes. “I do too, I love you exponentially. Even when I was figuring things out, that stayed the same, me loving you more and more every day.”

“Can I kiss you?” Eliott asked, and Lucas nodded.

“Yes.”

A soft, gentle press of the lips was all it was, nothing like the whirlwind kiss they’d swept each other up in earlier, but it was the perfect kiss in the perfect moment. Maybe the universe was on their side, after all, if it had all led to where they were in that specific instance.

“What are you going to do about ballet?” Eliott asked, and Lucas was glad he hadn’t avoided the topic. It was Lucas’ second love, after all.

“I can’t go back to the Royal Ballet, even though I really did enjoy it there,” Lucas confessed with a sigh. Truthfully, he didn’t want to. He felt he’d worn out his time in London, but was grateful for it nonetheless.

Eliott trailed one hand up and down his spine idly, an action that Lucas found to be quite comforting. “There’s a new director at the Paris Opera Ballet, you know.”

Lucas didn’t know. “What?”

Eliott nodded. “There have been a lot of changes, actually, according to Imane. Most of them for the better.”

“Oh?” Lucas really didn’t want to get any of his hopes up, but he wanted to return home more than anything. It was a bit ironic, that he loved this city so much considering all he’d been through in it, but it also contained most of his happiest memories and greatest moments of healing.

“I think I’m going to audition,” Eliott said, “That’s part of why I came back here, other than for you.”

Lucas blinked at him. “Really? What about Australia?”

“Australia’s fine. But it’s not Paris, and you’re not there.”

“Don’t make your decisions around me—”

Eliott huffed out a small laugh. “All due respect, Lucas, but don’t even start with me. It’s been a year and a half since we left, and all I’ve thought about is how much I want to come home, yes, to you, but also to Paris, my friends, my family. I had Sofiane but it wasn’t enough. This is where I’m meant to be, I know it now.”

“I think this is where I’m meant to be too,” Lucas admitted, “I think I’ve always known, in my heart.”

Eliott swallowed, and Lucas watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “I was also thinking… I don’t really want to live with my parents if I come back here.”

“Understandable,” Lucas agreed with a small laugh, and Eliott’s traced the lines it left on his face.

“I was wondering if you’d want to get a flat with me, if you’re sure you’d like to be here in Paris?” Eliott asked, and Lucas’ smile faltered.

“Are you serious?”

Eliott nodded, then backtracked, “Unless you think it’s too soon, or you need more time, or—”

“Hey,” Lucas cut Eliott off, lacing his fingers through his hair. He pulled Eliott’s face closer to his, kissing him gently. “I’d love to get a flat with you.”

Eliott’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Really,” Lucas promised with a smile. “We make quite the roommate duo, if I remember correctly.”

Eliott laughed, a sound that Lucas wanted to capture in a jar and keep with him forever. “That we do.”

Somewhere in the distance, church bells rang, and winter wind whistled by, and Lucas and Eliott found home in one another again, not for the first time, but for the last, because this time would lead to forever.

3 YEARS LATER

It was so strange, being in the same place he’d grown up, performing the same pieces he’d practiced a million times, but in a completely different way. Eliott had waited until his two year contract with the Australian Ballet was up, auditioning for the Paris Opera Ballet with Lucas in the meantime, and now the both of them were exactly where they were meant to be. Imane was still at the company, but she was the only one of their good friends still there. Emma had quit ballet while Lucas was in treatment, something he hadn’t found out about until he’d auditioned, but she seemed happy, so that was all that mattered. Lucas was still trying to convince Yann and Arthur to come back from Berlin and Amsterdam, respectively, but Yann loved Berlin and Arthur had his Lucas, so his pleas fell on deaf ears.

Sofiane stayed in Australia for another year, but Imane had told them that she suspected he’d be coming back to Paris soon as well. Lucas suspected it had something to do with her, but she refused to entertain any of his questions on the subject.

Eliott and Lucas’ flat was tiny, there was barely enough room for the both of them, but Lucas loved it with all his heart. Eliott had gotten him a piano for his twentieth birthday, and Lucas had gotten Eliott a record player, complete with a set of dubstep tracks on vinyl that Eliott loved for god knew what reason. He’d regretted that purchase a little bit, but the look on Eliott’s face when he’d given them to him sat in his memories and made his bleeding eardrums worth it.

Lucas and Eliott had also attended a few cooking classes in their free time, partially as a way to normalize healthy eating habits, and partially because if Lucas had to eat one more blueberry-bacon muffin he was going to throw Eliott’s dubstep records out the window. It was easier with Eliott, of course, but Lucas still worked on himself often, even going back to Angelique for weekly therapy sessions. She’d been pleasantly surprised to hear that he was back in town, and he’d been pleasantly surprised that she was willing to work with him again.

Eliott was still going to therapy too, but Lucas sensed something a little different about his behavior recently, and he wondered if there was anything he should have been doing to make sure everything was going ok for him mentally.

It was four in the morning and the two of them had to be up early for rehearsals in the morning, but when Lucas blinked his eyes open blearily and saw that Eliott wasn’t in bed beside him, he realized Eliott must never have gone to bed.

He got out of bed, trying to adjust his eyes to the dim light as he made his way into the living room to see why Eliott was still up. The brightness hit his eyes harder than he’d expected and he braced himself against the wall, squinting.

“Eliott?” His voice was groggy with sleep but Eliott looked up at him from where he was seated in the middle of the floor, surrounded by papers. Some were drawings, some looked like sheet music, and some looked like notes written by an unsteady hand. It gave Lucas flashbacks to three years ago.

“Eliott, come to bed,” he tried, knowing it was useless when he saw the light in Eliott’s eyes.

“Sleep?” Eliott laughed, “Come on, Lucas, I’m on a roll!”

Lucas nodded in agreement, knowing that the best he could do was offer quiet support until the euphoria gave way to the darkness lurking beneath. “I can see that. Do you want to tell me about it?”

Eliott’s eyes lit up again, and Lucas sat down beside him, hanging onto his every word. Well, at least until tiredness overtook him again. He wasn’t even aware of falling asleep, and felt kind of bad about it, but when he woke up a few hours later, Eliott was holding him from behind, likely having carried him to bed. He could tell Eliott wasn’t asleep by the pattern of his breathing, but at least his body was resting.

Lucas didn’t mention their middle of the night conversation but he did remind Eliott to take his medication, taking his own at the same time. Eliott peppered him with kisses all throughout the morning, something Lucas would never complain about, and when they went to practice, Lucas was just grateful that he would be able to help Eliott through whatever this was, if it was a manic episode, a hypomanic one, a mixed one, whichever. Eliott hadn’t had a manic episode since the one that had led to his diagnosis, so this was still new territory for both of them, but Lucas knew they could both handle it, for better or for worse.

——

The depression hit a few days later, so fast that Lucas hadn’t been expecting it, even if he was. It wasn’t the deepest hole Eliott had ever fallen into, but it wasn’t the shallowest, so Lucas did everything he could to help ease even the smallest fraction of pain Eliott was going through.

A few days into the depressive episode, Lucas made Eliott breakfast in bed, even though he wasn’t sure if Eliott would eat it, because he knew that it was always something that Eliott did to cheer him up and make him feel special. They didn’t have rehearsals for a few days because the new director was out of town, so there were no obligations for either one of them.

Even after being away for two years, they still had quite the reputation at the Paris Opera Ballet, mostly amongst the dancers. Their friends, old and new, knew what was going on and offered support in any way they could, but there were still whispers around the company of them being lazy or crazy or undeserving of what they had. Lucas knew how to handle it, he’d been dealing with similar shit practically his whole life, but it hit Eliott harder than Lucas had expected it to. Eliott had always been the star, even when the director was being an asshole, everyone had been on his side, because the director was so clearly in the wrong. But now, facing a group mostly made up of people they didn’t know very well, every negative or ignorant comment hit Eliott with twice the impact, and Lucas could only do his best to try to pick up the pieces.

It didn’t help anything that Lucille, Eliott’s ex-girlfriend was a soloist in the company and everyone fawned over her like she was the next Svetlana Zakharova. Eliott had told him plenty about Lucille, and all of it left a bad taste in his mouth. Clearly, Lucille wasn’t very fond of Lucas either, but he wasn’t in the mood to try to change her mind. She probably felt that she was still owed Eliott’s love, even after years apart, simply because she felt entitled to the best of everything.

Lucas was about to be on his way into the bedroom with his tray of breakfast for Eliott when two arms wrapped around his middle, head resting on his shoulder. He set the tray down and turned around, smiling softly as he looked Eliott in the eyes. They weren’t as bright as they usually were, but the dull haze that had coated them for the past few days wasn’t there anymore, and Lucas was happy to see the colors he loved a bit more vibrantly. Eliott’s eyes were still his favorite color, that would probably never change.

“I was just about to bring you breakfast,” Lucas said, nodding his head to the tray. He watched Eliott look down at it, surprise evident on his face.

“You made me breakfast in bed?” he asked softly.

Lucas nodded, wrapping his arms around Eliott’s neck. “Of course. It always makes me feel better when I’m down, so…” he trailed off, seeing an unreadable emotion in Eliott’s expression. “Was it stupid, to do that?”

Eliott’s brows furrowed instantly, head snapping back to meet Lucas’ gaze. “What? No, of course not. It’s just… I’ve been so awful to you these past few days, you don’t need to do anything like this for me.”

“Eliott,” Lucas sighed, “You have not been awful to me at all. Need I remind you that I was intentionally awful to you for like five years back in school?”

“That was different—”

“It was and it wasn’t. You’re allowed bad days, Eliott, and I’m not going to try to fix them for you, because I know that’s not what you want or need. Maybe you’ll yell at me or ignore me, but I’ll always be there to make you breakfast in bed or cuddle with you at night, ok?”

Eliott ran his hands up and down Lucas’ back. “Ok.”

“Good,” Lucas beamed, wiggling out of Eliott’s grip. “Now go back to the bedroom, I have a surprise for you that may or may not be breakfast in bed.”

Eliott smiled, the first one Lucas had seen in days, lifting his hand up to salute Lucas. “Aye, aye captain.”

In hindsight, breakfast in bed probably would have worked much better if Lucas had remembered to grab silverware, but Eliott had tucked Lucas close once he entered the room and set the tray on the bed and hadn’t let him go. It didn’t matter, though, not really, because Eliott was smiling, and Lucas was eating, and they were going to be ok.

No, they were going to be more than ok, they were going to be great. Greatness wasn’t measured by the number of good days versus the bad, it wasn’t measured by anything, really, it was just a simple fact. They were going to be great again, no matter what the present had in store. At least, that was what Angelique had been trying to help him understand. She was also helping him to understand that the days that weren’t great were vital to his existence, because when everything was good, nothing was.

It was all a bit confusing at times, if Lucas was honest with himself, so he focused on the simple things when it all got to be too much. The sun beams twisting their way through Eliott’s hair in the morning, curtains parted just so. The curtains themselves, a bright, golden yellow, Lucas had picked out because they reminded him of Eliott. The way Eliott buttered Lucas’ toast for him, knowing exactly how he liked it, and the way he did it without thinking twice. Falling in love more and more every single minute wasn’t scary, not anymore, because it was Eliott, and scary wasn’t even a word in Lucas’ vocabulary around him.

“Thank you,” Eliott said, leaning his head on Lucas’ shoulder. “For the breakfast, and for everything.”

“You’re welcome,” Lucas said, because they both knew Eliott didn’t need to thank him, but Lucas was starting to allow people to thank him for things when they wanted to. “Thank you for being you.”

Because, flaws and all, Lucas was still the person Eliott loved more than anything, and Eliott was still the person Lucas loved more than anything. Maybe it was partially because of their brief stint as rivals, one sided as it might have been. Not caring how the other person saw you broke down every wall before they even got close enough to fall in love. They’d learned to love every ugly part of each other because those parts hadn’t really ever been hidden, because they hadn’t cared to hide them.

Lucas kissed Eliott’s forehead, loving when Eliott made himself small and tucked himself into Lucas like he could shield him from the world. He probably couldn’t, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

5 YEARS LATER

Eliott was leading Lucas by the hand, blindfolded, and Lucas couldn’t have been happier. They’d been on a date to celebrate their five year anniversary, going out to dinner at a fancy restaurant because they were technically adults now, that was what adults did, but Eliott had blindfolded Lucas immediately after and told Lucas to trust him, as if there was any other option.

They were both wearing suits, partly because they were celebrating an anniversary, and partly because they both had suits they never wore and didn’t want them or the money they’d spent to go to waste. Lucas had tried to keep his cool all night, but he’d been dying to take Eliott’s clothes off since the minute he’d seen him all dressed up. He didn’t honestly look that different than he did at seventeen, but he looked more Eliott, and in a suit he rendered Lucas completely incapable of coherent thought.

“Eliiii,” he whined, Eliott’s hands still on his shoulders, guiding him.

Eliott’s laugh was music to his ears, despite the fact he was still blindfolded and had no idea where they were going. “I always forget how whiny you are,” Eliott teased.

“I am not whiny!” Lucas gasped indignantly, dissolving into giggles when he heard Eliott laugh again behind him. After a few more minutes of walking, they came to a stop, so Lucas raised his hands to remove his blindfold, but Eliott swatted them away before he could do so.

“Dude!” Lucas laughed, and Eliott groaned.

“This is not the time for you to call me dude,” Eliott complained, and Lucas scoffed.

“I’ll call you dude whenever I want to, dude.”

He heard Eliott sigh, and he smiled triumphantly until he felt Eliott’s hands push him gently. “What the—”

He ripped off the blindfold as he stumbled backwards, landing in something wet. Once he cleared the water from his eyes he saw Eliott standing on the street in front of him, shit eating grin on his face. Lucas surveyed his surroundings, fully intending to be mad, but then he realized where they were.

“The fucking fountain,” he said, no mirth in his voice at all.

Eliott nodded. “The fucking fountain.”

“I can’t believe you’ve waited five years to push me into a fucking fountain,” Lucas said, shaking his head.

Eliott raised his eyebrows. “Not just any fountain!”

“Not just any fountain,” Lucas agreed, “Although, if memory serves, you should be in here with me.”

He vaguely wondered if the water was ruining his only good suit, but decided he didn’t really care. Maybe it was time to get a new one anyway. He held out a hand, and Eliott laughed. “You really think I’m going to fall for that?”

“I don’t think you have a choice, Demaury,” Lucas said, wiggling his fingers, and something shifted in Eliott’s expression. He grasped Lucas’ hand and Lucas pulled him into the fountain, Eliott sputtering indignantly even though he’d known it was coming.

Eliott stumbled into the fountain clumsily, falling on his ass, and Lucas burst into hysterics. It took him a minute to regain control over himself, and when he did Eliott was still sitting in the fountain, looking up at Lucas with a glimmer in his eyes.

“I’m not helping you up,” Lucas said, raising one eyebrow and crossing his arms. The corner of his mouth twitched, threatening to collapse him into another bout of laughter, but he remained steady as Eliott shifted from sitting to kneeling, one foot braced on the ground. Lucas sighed overdramatically, holding out a hand. “Ok, fine, I’ll help you up. But only because I love you.”

Eliott’s fingers ghosted over his briefly, not long enough for Lucas to grip them to pull him up, before they disappeared inside his suit jacket, like he was looking for something. He smiled as he found whatever it was, and Lucas became acutely aware of how they were positioned.

Eliott, on one knee before him, Lucas reaching out a hand, both of them in the fountain that had started it all.

His heart stopped beating. If he was wrong… but if he was right…

“Lucas, I’ve loved you since we were children, even if I didn’t know it back then,” Eliott said, and Lucas’ heart started beating again, threatening to burst out of his chest. It was loud inside the fountain, but Lucas almost didn’t hear it, the only thing on his mind the man in front of him. The man, the boy, the love of his life.

Eliott continued, “You’re the only one I want to see first thing in the morning, even on the bad days, and you’re the only person I can’t picture my life without. I know we’re still young and we’ve got our whole lives ahead of us, but I made you a promise five years ago, and I still mean every word. I promised that no matter where we were, you were it for me. You’re the one I love. We’ve been through more ups and downs than most people probably have to go through in their whole lives, but I wouldn’t trade a single second of it, not if it led us here. You have the most beautiful soul I’ve ever seen, and some days I still pinch myself to make sure that this is all real, that you actually chose me. But you did, and I chose you, continue to choose you, and that’s never going to change. And sure, marriage is kind of an arbitrary institution that our generation is moving past as a whole, and our love and commitment to one another speaks loud enough on its own, but Lucas Lallemant, will you marry me?”

Lucas froze with tears in his eyes, watching as the water from the fountain pelted down on Eliott’s head, soaking him more and more with each passing second. He didn’t notice the small crowd of people that had started to surround them in the fountain, whispering and videotaping them.

A million years passed in a single second when their eyes met, each of them staring into the depths of their favorite color. The world restarted, and Lucas smiled, letting tears mingle with the water on his face.

“Yes.”

The grin that broke out on Eliott’s face was unlike anything Lucas had ever seen, so blinding he feared he shouldn’t look right at it. In the blink of an eye, he was on his feet, surging forward and capturing Lucas in a time bending kiss that made him feel like he was floating amongst the stars, happiest version of himself in any universe.

They broke apart laughing as the people that had become voyeurs to one of their greatest moments of personal joy applauded and cheered. Eliott slipped a simple ring onto Lucas finger, and Lucas made a note to himself to get one for Eliott as well.

“We should probably get out of the fountain now,” Lucas suggested, and Eliott shrugged.

“Probably,” he agreed.

The people that had gathered congratulated them as they clumsily hopped out of the stupid fountain that would probably be the site of their wedding if they weren’t careful. They were only twenty-two, but five years together felt like a lifetime, and Lucas had honestly been thinking a lot about marriage and what that might bring for them. They already acted like they were married anyway, why should they wait on making it official?

Lucas couldn’t stop looking at the simple band on his finger, surprised at how well it fit. He was soaked from head to toe, and the season was teetering on winter, but he wasn’t cold, not with all the warmth that had filled in his chest.

Eliott clasped his hand, smiling down at him like he’d done five years ago, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Lucas didn’t know if Eliott even remembered that was exactly what he’d done after their first kiss, but Lucas remembered, he’d always remember every second of that night, even the fight that had preceded it all, such a trivial thing that had led to something so monumental.

Everyone surrounding them had more or less dispersed, realizing Lucas and Eliott were done putting on a show, so they walked back to their flat peacefully, content with each other’s presence.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about something,” Eliott said as they walked, thumb rubbing Lucas’ ring.

Lucas laughed minutely, wondering what else there was to be thinking about. The only other major thing they’d done recently was renew their contracts with the Paris Opera Ballet, if that could even be considered major. “Thinking about what?” he asked.

Eliott swallowed, looking up at the moon. “Well, I—”

He broke off as Lucas’ phone started to ring. Lucas swore under his breath, he’d been certain he’d put his phone on silent. He glanced up apologetically at Eliott, who simply shook his head to indicate that there were no worries. Grabbing his phone from his pocket, he released Eliott’s hand when he saw the caller ID. Why was the director calling him? He hoped he hadn’t done anything wrong that he’d forgotten about.

The new director was great, though, so he wouldn’t have been worried about her calls if it hadn’t been the first time she’d ever called him. She liked to stay involved professionally, not personally, and most of the time he really appreciated that. Of course, there were some personal things he and Eliott had to share with her, but she never looked at either of them any different knowing what she knew.

“Hello?” he answered, not meaning to phrase it as a question but still completely in the dark as to the reason for the call. When she started to speak, it wasn’t that Lucas wasn’t listening, he heard every word she said, but his head filled with a buzz, blocking out everything in the outside world. He was registering the words he was hearing, but he wasn’t sure he was responding, at least not coherently. It couldn’t be true, this couldn’t be happening.

His mind left his body, only coming back down when Eliott placed a hand on his cheek. He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there, phone frozen in front of him, wide eyed blank expression on his face.

“Lucas?” Eliott asked, concern written all over his face. “Is everything all right?”

Was everything all right? Was what the director had just said real?

“I…” he began, trying to find the words he was looking for. “She…”

“She?” Eliott prompted, still looking nervous.

“I’m a principal dancer in the company,” Lucas said, or maybe didn’t say. He wasn’t sure.

Judging by the way Eliott’s eyes got so wide they nearly took up his entire face, he had, in fact, spoken aloud. “You what?”

“The director,” Lucas said dazedly, “She called to tell me they’re making me a principal dancer in the company.”

If Lucas had thought Eliott’s smile before was blinding, that had nothing on this one. “Are you serious? Lu! What the fuck that’s incredible! At twenty-two years old! And you’ve only been a soloist, what, for a year?”

Lucas nodded, brain still fuzzy and uncomprehending. He and Eliott were both soloists, Eliott had entered the company as one. It didn’t seem possible… maybe they mixed up Eliott’s number with his? All the other principal dancers were older than him, not by much, admittedly, because ballet didn’t have many dancers aged into their late thirties and forties, but still.

“Is tonight real?” Lucas asked, because he’d also just gotten engaged. Somehow that seemed a million times easier to stomach than the other news he’d received.

“It is,” Eliott said softly, toning down his blinding smile as he realized that the pure disbelief that Lucas was feeling was too present for him to feel any form of happiness.

Lucas blinked up at Eliott, shaking his head. “Why wasn’t it you?”

Eliott furrowed his eyebrows. “Why wasn’t what me?”

“You should be the principal dancer… are you sure they didn’t call you? This is my phone right?” Lucas was spiraling a tiny bit, thank god for Eliott, being steady and grounded when his head started spinning.

“Lucas, they meant to call you, not me, because you deserve this. You’re the best dancer in the company by a mile.”

“But you’re better, you’ve always been better.”

Eliott shrugged. “Maybe I’m not what they’re looking for. Besides, I wouldn’t want to be a principal dancer anyway.”

Lucas gawked at him. Was the whole world flipped upside down, was this an episode of Stranger Things? “That’s always been your dream.”

“Maybe, like, top three dreams,” Eliott agreed.

“Eliott what are you talking about?” Lucas asked, feeling his brain enter his body again, bit by bit.

“That was what I was about to talk to you about, actually,” Eliott said sheepishly, “Though I’m not sure if now is the right time anymore.”

“Eliott. Tell me.”

Eliott sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Principal dancer has been my dream, but there are two others that outweigh it, and I already have one, and I think it’s time for me to start reaching for the other one seriously.”

Lucas blinked. “Ok?”

“The dream I have, it’s you,” Eliott said, and Lucas levelled him with a look, causing Eliott to laugh. “I’m serious! I can’t help it if you’re the Rapunzel to my Flynn Ryder—”

“I’m Flynn Ryder and you know it,” Lucas interrupted, earning a short laugh.

“—But my other dream, well, you know this one too, actually, is Polaris. I want to commit to Polaris full time, quit the company in the meantime.”

Now Lucas’ eyes turned into saucers. “You what?”

“I know I should have said something before now, but I wasn’t totally sure until now,” Eliott said quickly, words running together, “I’ll still be here, though, with you. It won’t be like Australia, in fact, I still want you to compose the music, but I understand if you don’t want to or don’t have the time…”

“Eliott,” Lucas laughed, “I’m not mad, how could I be mad?”

“You… aren’t?” Eliott clarified hopefully.

“No! Just surprised.” He paused, taking both of Eliott’s hands in his. “I’ll support you in whatever you want to do, you know that, right?”

Eliott nodded, gripping his hands tighter. “I do. I just didn’t want you to think it was because you’re a principal dancer now, or anything.”

“The thought never even crossed my mind,” Lucas answered truthfully. They were long past the jealousy and rivalry. If Eliott had made principal dancer, Lucas would have been equally happy for him.

Principal dancer. Now that he was back on earth, it was sinking in more and more. He wasn’t the first of their friends to be a principal dancer, but did Manon really count? She hadn’t ever even been in the corps, soloist straight out of school. Her and Daphné were still thriving at the Royal Ballet, and Noora and her girlfriend had ended up moving in with them to take Lucas’ place. He was pretty sure they were getting their own place soon, but was glad that they’d kept the gay alive in his absence. He missed Manon a lot, and he couldn’t wait to rub it in her face that she may have been principal dancer before him, but he was engaged before her.

“I’m a principal dancer in the Paris Opera Ballet,” Lucas said aloud, finally believing it.

Eliott smiled. “You are.”

“I’m engaged to the man of my dreams,” he said. What a day it had been.

Eliott pulled him close. He realized they were both still soaking wet, and laughed. “You are,” Eliott said again, bringing them closer still.

“I love you, Eliott,” Lucas said, observing the stars reflecting in Eliott’s luminescent eyes. “I didn’t say it before, but I should have. Even though you know it, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“And I love you.”

If he wasn’t mistaken, Lucas might have seen a shooting star soaring behind Eliott’s head. He didn’t make a wish though, because he realized he didn’t need to. He had everything that he’d ever wanted.

And this was only the beginning.

10 YEARS LATER

Lucas was standing backstage, like he had so many times before, but this was the first time he’d been truly nervous. It was the opening night of Polaris, a ballet Eliott had choreographed and staged, and he had composed music for. Five years ago he never would have expected this to come to fruition so quickly, but there they were. Five years ago, he wouldn’t have expected a lot of things, but life had many surprises.

It was absolutely insane to think that in such a short time he’d become one of the most sought after dancers in the world, and he still didn’t believe it to be true, but there had been some definite successes since he’d become one of the youngest principal dancers in the company. He had no intention of leaving Paris anytime soon, but he had done a few performances at different places around the world in the meantime, stunned that people would travel any distance to see him dance.

Professionally, he was still Lucas Lallemant, a decision he’d struggled with a bit since marrying Eliott, but he’d decided to stop allowing his father’s influence to control his life and what he did with it, showing the world that Lallemant wasn’t a dirty name, even if they’d never known that it was. Everywhere else, though, he was Lucas Lallemant-Demaury. Ten years ago he’d told Eliott he wanted to be a Demaury, and he hadn’t changed his mind, but it was important for him to take ownership of who he was because at the end of the day, a name was just a name. He wouldn’t let a name scare him anymore.

Eliott had risen to great prominence as a choreographer, staging pieces around the world that brought audiences to tears and filled them with joy. Polaris was his first full ballet, and everyone close to him knew that this was the only one that had ever really mattered, no matter the time and care he put into others. If his other pieces had been so impactful, the world clearly wasn’t ready for Polaris. It was the first ballet in history to star two male leads in a romantic story, which was groundbreaking enough as it was, especially to be put on for the first time in such a company of prestige.

They were more successful than either of them had ever expected to be, especially at the young age of twenty-seven, and for the most part they still didn’t know what to do with that success. They’d both been very outspoken about mental health and LGBTQ+ rights, which seemed like a good place to start, and they’d gotten a dog, a little Pomeranian named Ouba, who they loved only second to each other. They’d discussed kids, but Lucas knew that he had no intentions of leaving the stage anytime soon, and Eliott hadn’t too many dreams and plans he wanted to pursue to consider raising a child. They reserved the right to change their minds in the future, but in the present moment they were happy with it just being the two of them and Ouba taking on the world one minute at a time.

The world rejoiced when Eliott had announced he was coming back to the stage to perform opposite Lucas in the lead roles, though Lucas had known that was his plan from the beginning. Working so closely with Eliott was something he’d missed, and Eliott had missed too. He’d composed all the music with a little help from people in the industry trained for this sort of thing, including Eliott’s friend from Australia, Niccolo, and practicing to the music he’d heard in his head for ten years was a visceral experience. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to perform on stage in a little under an hour. Then again and again for as long as the show would run.

All of their old friends from school were in the audience for the performance, which filled Lucas’ heart with joy. Well, they were supposed to be in the audience, but Eliott had invited them all backstage for a little pre-show reunion, despite the fact that the cast should have been focused.

Imane and Sofiane were in the show as well, as they were both dancing with the Paris Opera Ballet, and they both had prominent roles because Eliott would accept nothing less for them. Plus, they were still two of the best dancer Lucas knew, and they deserved every bit accolade they had or would receive in their lives. They’d gotten married a year after Lucas and Eliott had, and Lucas knew that they’d been discussing some of the things Eliott and Lucas discussed recently. Imane loved ballet, and Sofiane loved Imane, so Lucas didn’t expect any Alaoui kids in the near future, but he did think there would be some eventually, and expected to be referred to as Uncle Lucas when they did come into the world.

Yann wasn’t dancing anymore, which had come as a bit of a shock to Lucas when Yann had visited and told them he was going to ‘retire’ from the dance world two or so years back. He’d met a girl in Berlin, Emmeline, but they’d moved back to Paris fairly recently and things seemed to be going quite well with them. He tried not to tease Yann too much about the fact that he’d dated an Emma, and now an Emmeline. Lucas knew that Yann was planning to propose to her any day now, but if he knew anything about Emmeline, it was that she’d probably get around to popping the question before Yann could even get down on one knee. He liked her a lot.

Arthur wasn’t dancing anymore either, at least not in a company. He’d taken his abuser to court while dancing in Amsterdam and the settlement payout had been much more money than Arthur had ever been expecting, so he’d put it towards starting his own ballet school in Amsterdam. Lucas had been a bit sad to hear he wouldn’t be coming back to Paris, that his life was elsewhere now, but he and VDH were still together, and he seemed happier than he ever had been, so Lucas was happy as a result. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t still tease Arthur for having a crush on him ten years ago, especially not when Arthur asked him to come teach master classes for his students. Definitely not.

Basile was living large, doing whatever it was that Basile did best. Last Lucas had spoken to him he’d been applying to schools to go back and get his doctorate in French, because he wanted to be a professor. Lucas had been surprised at first, but then he’d realized that he’d never actually known what it was that Basile wanted to do with his life, so he accepted it with no more than a shrug. He wasn’t dating anyone presently, but Yann and Lucas had secretly been planning to set him up with a girl named Leia, who’d danced with them at school and they’d recently gotten back in touch with because she was friends with Emmeline.

Alexia had become quite the fixture in their lives, surprisingly, because she’d helped Eliott a lot with blocking and planning Polaris. She may have quit ballet a long time ago, but Lucas could tell she was still very passionate about dance, and he thought she might have a future in choreography if she wanted it. She was also their designated dogsitter, which had somehow led to her reconnecting with Chloé, who Yann had briefly dated— and Lucas had too, but that didn’t really count— and apparently now they were planning on moving in together. Oh, how small the world was.

Emma, surprising all of them, had married Alex briefly, then got divorced, then married him again. Lucas was pretty sure it would last this time, knew that it only hadn’t lasted the first time because both of them wanted to experience a little bit more of the world before settling down, soon realizing that their hearts kept finding their way back to each other and would keep doing so. They had a kid together, a little spitfire named Amelie, and she and Lucas got along a little bit too well for their own good. Emma and Lucas had always had a friendship teetering on chaos, so it was inevitable that the same would be said for her daughter.

Manon and Daphné, of course, were still together. Lucas still held it over their head that he and Eliott got married three months before they did, but everyone knew that it was in good humor. In fact, they were expecting their first child together, something Lucas definitely hadn’t seen coming. He’d also assumed they would adopt, but Daphné had wanted to have a biological child and Manon had agreed. They’d had an anonymous donor, and Lucas had feigned offense that they hadn’t wanted his dna. Manon was terrified of having children, at least physically, but apparently Daphné had really wanted to be the one to carry their baby, so it had all worked out for them. Lucas didn’t know whether or not she planned on returning to ballet after the baby was born, but he supposed Daphné and Manon would figure that out amongst themselves. Manon was probably more famous in the ballet world than he or Eliott could even dream of, which was unsurprising to everyone but Manon.

They were all there, looking the same and yet so completely different than they had ten years ago. It was terrifying to think ten years had passed, because in some respects Lucas had no idea where the time had gone, but in some ways it also felt like three whole lifetimes had been lived in the last ten years. He was still doing well, had only had a minor relapse of his eating disorder during his first year as a principal dancer, but Eliott had been there through it all and he’d made his way out of it stronger than ever. Eliott had a few episodes, having to change his medication after the most recent one, but he’d been good for a long while too, and the depression hadn’t hit as hard in both of his most recent episodes. He attributed it to Lucas, though Lucas would never agree, knowing that it was just brain chemicals doing whatever the hell they wanted to at any given time, but it made him happy to make Eliott happy in whatever way he could.

Manon looked regal and sharp, every bit the prima ballerina she’d shaped up to be, red lipstick perfectly applied like it always had been as she ran over to Lucas to hug him. Daphné was right behind her, albeit a bit slower given her current condition, but she looked just as beautiful as Manon but in a softer way.

“When are you due?” Eliott asked her excitedly as the two of them hugged, and Daphné beamed, lacing her hand with Manon’s.

“Eight weeks,” she said, catching Manon’s eye. The way the two of them looked at each other… if Lucas didn’t have Eliott to look at like that, he probably would have pretended to barf all over the both of them.

Arthur and VDH approached next, who Lucas refused to refer to as anything other than VDH, which Arthur rolled his eyes at every time but VDH himself had said he didn’t mind at all. Isa and some of her friends had joined, standing a bit on the outskirts of the group because Isa was the only one who knew Lucas well. He recognized Liv and her girlfriend Engel, because Arthur had lived with Liv and Isa had talked about the two of them all the time, so he assumed the other three girls must have been Janna, who danced in Sweden, Imaan, who wasn’t a dancer, and Esra, who was a well known name in the dance community for being the first hijabi muslim principal dancer in the American Ballet Theatre. Lucas was a bit intimidated to be in her presence, actually, because he’d followed her career and admired her so much, but she seemed very down to earth from what he’d heard through Isa.

“You’re going to kill it,” Arthur said pulling him into a hug. He was wearing the same glasses he’d worn back during school, but they still suited him. “And if you don’t, I’ll let you join my tiny tots ballet class, see if you can learn something from them.”

“Ha ha,” Lucas deadpanned, smirking despite himself. “Tiny tots, huh?”

Arthur widened his eyes in a don’t ask sort of way. “Past me was an ambitious man,” he lamented.

VDH nudged his shoulder. “Shut up, the kids love you. And you love them, no matter what you say on the contrary.”

“I just picture them all as baby Yoda,” Arthur admitted, earning him another nudge.

“Dude, the baby Yoda meme died, like, ten years ago,” Lucas laughed.

Arthur scoffed in offense, putting a hand up to his chest. “Baby Yoda is eternal.”

Yann entered their conversation at that moment, raising his eyebrows when he noticed all of them bursting into uncontrollable laughter. “Three Musketeers back and better than ever, huh?”

“It’s been way too fucking long, man,” Arthur said once he caught his breath, wiping his eyes for errant tears. Lucas nodded in agreement, just as Baz joined the circle.

“I sure hope you didn’t forget about me,” he pouted, and the three of them pulled him into a bearhug, Eliott engaged in conversation with Idriss, Imane, and Sofiane, and VDH moving back to talk with his friends.

“As if we ever could,” Lucas said to Basile, ruffling his curly hair.

“I sure hope not! Just because I don’t have a hot boyfriend, doesn’t mean I’m not still a part of the group, right?” Basile scoffed indignantly.

Yann cocked his head to the side. “Pretty sure I don’t have a hot boyfriend, Baz.”

“But you totally could, if you wanted to,” he said, as if that explained everything, and the three of them burst into even more laughter. Lucas had to get control over himself, otherwise he’d have to redo his makeup, a task he really did not want to complete for a second time that night.

A hand tapped his leg and Lucas looked down with a grin to see three year old Amelie Delano, looking mischievous as ever. “Uncle Arthur said to call you Uncle Lulu,” she said breathlessly, in that way all three year olds did.

Lucas glared at Arthur, who became suddenly interested in the set on stage. Lucas bent down to be eye level with Amelie. “You can call me whatever you want,” he said, because if he was being honest it was adorable to hear a toddler call him Uncle Lulu.

Emma appeared at Amelie’s side, sighing deeply. “There you are, I should have known you’d be with Uncle Lucas.”

“Lulu,” Amelie said indignantly, and Emma raised one eyebrow in Lucas’ direction, holding back a laugh.

“Lulu,” Lucas agreed with defeat, giving her tiny hand a high five.

“Break a leg out there,” Emma said as he straightened up, giving him a high five of her own.

“Yours, maybe,” he said with a half a smirk, wondering if she remembered one of their old inside jokes. At first she looked confused, but he saw the exact moment she remembered, laughing in a nostalgic sort of way.

She pointed at him. “Still the same, I see.”

“Why mess with perfection?” he joked, knowing full well that he would never have been standing where he was if he’d actually stayed the same person he was back then.

A hand wrapped around his waist and he turned to see Eliott, softness in his eyes that was reserved only for Lucas and Ouba. “We should get ready,” Eliott said, and the nerves kicked in again.

“We should,” Lucas agreed, and he saw Eliott read the anxiety in his eyes. The two of them moved a little bit out of the way of everyone, finding their own bubble of peace amidst the chaos like they always did.

Eliott put his hands on either side of Lucas’ face. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not,” Lucas lied, and Eliott saw right through him again.

��This show, it’s everything to me,” Eliott began, and Lucas frowned.

“How is that supposed to make me less nervous?”

Eliott laughed, shaking his head. “Let me finish, Lu. It’s everything to me, because of you. Because I had a dream, and you helped me turn it into a reality, and now I’m living out a dream I never knew I had, the dream of us dancing side by side in a story I’ve held close to my heart for almost twelve years. I don’t care what it looks like to the audience, maybe I should, but I really don't. All I care about is you and I giving the performance I know we’re capable of, because it’s fueled by all the love we share. I’m not afraid, because you’re the best dancer I’ve ever known, and because of all the shit life’s thrown our way, we’ve made it out stronger each time. We can handle anything on our own, but when we’re together all the struggles and pain turn to pure magic, consuming every atom of my being.”

“In another universe you’re a poet, I think. Or maybe a songwriter,” Lucas said dumbly, struck by the power and intention in Eliott’s voice, the love and care in his words.

Eliott smiled and leaned in close, brushing their noses together, like he was waiting. Lucas closed the gap, kissing Eliott deeply. He pulled away, Eliott chasing his lips, and placed his hands on Eliott’s face, each of them holding the world in their hands.

“I’m not afraid,” he said again, and this time it wasn’t a lie.

“Not afraid?”

“Not afraid.”

“Well then, let’s go give the audience the show of a lifetime,” Eliott said, dropping his hands from Lucas’ face and holding one out to him. Lucas accepted it following him back into the hustle and bustle of being backstage the opening night of a ballet. It was Lucas’ favorite place to be, other than wrapped in Eliott’s arms. They took their places in the wings, breaths in synch and hearts on fire.

Eliott had been so many of Lucas’ firsts. First friend, first enemy, first love, first heartbreak, first (and only, if he had anything to say about it) husband, first person Lucas had shown himself to completely, every crack and bruise and flaw most people would flinch away from. Eliott never flinched, which was what made him the last of everything too.

He would be Lucas’ last love, his last husband, his last kiss. There were so many firsts left in his life, and even more lasts, but Eliott would be a part of all of them. And he would be a part of all of Eliott’s.

Lucas looked out at the stage, a mix of melancholy and longing filling his body. There would be a last dance too, of course there would, but that was another thing Lucas wasn’t scared of anymore. He wasn’t scared, because he knew that Eliott would be right there for all of the firsts and all of the lasts, even his last dance.

He looked at Eliott, finding his hand and squeezing it once.

Especially his last dance.

The curtain went up and the music began to swell, and Lucas stepped onto the stage, leaving Eliott’s hand behind him.

Even after years of training, the Paris Opera Ballet was still everything Lucas dreamed it would be. And, he realized, gazing out at the audience, each person waiting for him to blow them away, it was all his. It always had been.

He smiled, and began to dance.

#skam france #elu fic #elu ballet au #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury

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whyyallsweatin · 4 years

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If you hate your job so much, just quit.

Psychiatric Emergency Services at Victoria’s Royal Jubilee Hospital is a department that is run like no other medical department in the world. The treatments used in first-line mental health crisis were not designed to address the neurological functions associated with mental distress outside of psychosis. Additionally, the hostile environment created by staff serves no purpose in the treatment of mental distress.

I’ve been there countless times. I have witnessed the procedures and noticed alarming patterns in procedures were applied not to chemically subdue patients experiencing a wide range of psychiatric ailments.

When you first walk in, you are asked to hand over your bag and cell phone by a nurse. You are then directed to sit down in one of the chairs in the waiting room. Assessment usually begins with a nurse who asks you a service of questions in order to relay that information to the psychiatrist. You are then asked to go back and wait to see the next doctor, usually a medical doctor. Following that, you will be given the opportunity to speak to a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist will recommend medication or hospitalization based on what they observe.

Patients who suffer from psychiatric problems like psychosis are often unmanageable, hostile and may be physically violent. Anti-psychotics are the first line medications used to treat drug-induced or schizophrenic episodes of psychosis by correcting the irregular dopamine functions associated with the ailment.

These seem like standard, reasonable procedures, but what makes PES unique is the unexplainable logic used to validate the administration of psychiatric drugs and execute deplorable personal treatment of patients by support staff. Unlike people suffering from physical pain, people who suffer from mental illness are vilified for questioning procedures that include detaining people isolation if they were forced to go to the hospital by family members, friends or law enforcement after showing signs that their mental health was a threat to their welfare, or the welfare of those around them.

Distressed people who do not want to go to the hospital usually become aggressive and demand to let out. In my case, a friend overreacted to something I said online and provoked a team of law enforcement and an ambulance to raid my home, handcuff me and deliver me to psychiatric emergency services. After hours of trying to get out, worrying about the welfare of my pets after the dramatic scene the RCMP and ambulance had created, I became hostile. I used the phone in the waiting area to call 911 and try and get out. Having previous experience with psychiatry, I knew I would likely be forced to take the magic bullet of psychiatric medicine: Seroquel.

I’ve taken Seroquel before, naively after my psychiatrist recommended it for insomnia. After taking it, I passed out cold and woke up with a terrible feeling of depression, dread, anxiety and depression. I immediately made the connection between the drug and these symptoms but did not realize that all anti-psychotics by their very mode of action are directly responsible for chemically inducing these kinds of mental disturbances.

Anyways, I asked for a piece of paper and wrote down a lengthy satire targeting the over prescription of Seroquel. I was then guided to a private observation room where several doctors and a psychiatrists who did not ask questions about my well-being but addressed the very behaviour I was displaying as a result of being detailed against my will, and the audacity I had in ridiculing the well-known practice of prescribing Seroquel for psychiatric disorders where no evidence existed to support the administration of the drug. She called me a psychopath and then used the opportunity to impress the room by listing the qualifications she had acquired various certificates and degrees. No explanation of why anti-psychotics were being administered for psychiatric ailments outside of psychosis was provided and the illogical argument that a variety of vague academic achievements somehow qualified the psychiatrist’s relentless devotion to this magical drug.

The very logic behind administering these drugs for a rainbow unrelated mental conditions is an unexplainable practice that is incomparable to any other medical practice in the world. The assumption that one drug can treat the extraordinarily complex functions associated with multiple mental illnesses seems so obviously faulty. In no other medical practice can a drug be used without any scientific proof to treat illnesses by chemically inducing the blockade of the very neurostransmitter responsible for creating positive emotional responses. The very neurotransmitter that upon release is scientifically proven to be the reason why people feel happy is chemically supressed by anti-psychotics and by removing the ability to experience the ‘happy’ emotion, these drugs treat depression. Depression is unhappiness. So by eliminating the ability to be happy, people who experience chronic unhappiness will benefit from a drug that by its very mode of action chemically castrates the brains ability to make happiness. What in the actual fuck is going on? Imagine a doctor prescribing smoking to cure lung cancer. That’s the same thing as treating depressive mood disorders by administering medication that restrains the ability to make happiness. Happiness is the opposite of depression, no? Am I missing something?

After that productive discussion, the psychiatrist used her power ‘punish’ me by committing me to the isolation room where I violently banged on the door for hours until guards came in to restrain and inject me with anti-psychotics.

I woke up on the cement floor to see that one of the nurses had thrown a plate of food into the isolation room. Most of the food had fallen off the plate and were on the cement, but by all accounts the nurse fulfilled the requirement of providing a psychiatric detainee with food. I did not eat the food. Additionally, the anti-psychotic administered created an overwhelming sense of depression, anxiety and dread. Extreme mental distressed, faced with the realization that my freedoms and psychiatric well being were at the mercy of psychiatric decisioning was incredibly traumatic. I was then escorted to another unit in the hospital and put in another isolation room. I passed out again and woke up startled, not knowing where I was.

I got up and knocked on the window and was met by a nurse who let me out. The ward was a small, windowless set of rooms and a common area for eating. The medication I took both suppressed my cognitive functions, and chemically induced a state of dysphoria and dread.

Several days past, and I was not considered well enough to join the adjacent ward where more freedoms were awarded to patients. The continued administration of anti-psychotics caused insomnia and ruminating thoughts throughout several nights and after about seven sleepless nights, my cognitive abilities were so limited that I failed to recognize where I was when the doctor asked me. By some miracle, I was able to string together the words required to ask the doctor to review the records the nurse had kept about my sleep. She had lied on her report and indicated that my sleep was excellent.

I still have vague memories of countless nights where I pled for help at the window that surrounded the nurse’s station. If she even ever paid attention to me, she would do so by opening the window and yelling the word, “no.”

There are no words I can use to try and describe the dysphoria that anti-psychotics produce. There is nothing that I can compare to the anguish of chemically induced states of mental distress that they cause by their very mode of neurological action in blockading dopamine, the chemical responsible for mental well-being. There is no way out and no relief.

Patients in the psychiatric ward at RJH are treated with palpable disrespect. The chemical restraints forced upon patients do not treat symptoms of mental illness outside psychosis. They subdue patients in order to make them manageable and ensure the safety of medical staff if they display warranted frustration with being locked away against their will. Nothing more.

After weeks of forced medication, the psychiatrist started to put me back on the medications I was used to taking before being admitted to the hospital. My mental health quickly improved after anti-psychotics were removed from the schedule. Eventually I was released, only to relapse into psychosis again after months of isolating and self-medicating the trauma induced anxiety brought on by my incarceration in the psych ward.

I’ll never forget how I helplessly pled for relief of the anxiety produced by anti-psychotics. The prolonged insomnia had profound impacts on my cognitive functioning were so frightening. After seven days of sleeplessness, the doctor finally administered a drug to put me to sleep. There are no words I have to express the utter lack of confidence in psychiatry that I have after being submitted to the abuses of medical professionals responsible for psychiatric patient care. This was only the first, and not even the worst.

I can’t help but continuously think about the unrelenting desire support staff at the psych ward have to execute punitive actions on patients there, may they be the denial of medications they need to alleviate the unbearable stresses of forced incarceration or the overwhelmingly disdainful way in which they treat patients. I can only compare it to the way overworked parents abruptly address the frivolous demands of a fussy toddler. Only replace toddlers with adults and frivolous demands with helpless pleas for their lives.

The logic in which drugs that produce unhappiness are used to create happiness in psychiatry is also prevalent in the way in which patients are subjected to treatment that would cause emotional distress in facilities believed to treat them.

These kinds of absurd realities in healthcare are far too unreal for people to believe.

I can’t help but wonder why nurses who work there do work there. If you hate your job so much, do the world a favour and quit.

#RJH #VictoriaBC #Malpractice #psychiatry #medicalincompetancy

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vapidsoup · 5 years

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anxiety coping mechanisms!

hey guys lately i’ve been relapsing on my panic disorder bc i moved to a new city for uni. nowadays, i feel like i’ve improved a lot since the first day of the move, and i’d like to make a wholesome and hopefully helpful post about things that have helped me calm down during these tough times. if you suffer from anxiety, depression or panic disorders, maybe test these out and see if it helps! we should all stick together and try to help each other during our difficult moments in life, after all! Oh, and please please please feel free to add your own coping mechanisms!! i’d love to hear some more helpful advice! So, without further ado:

when i am anxious I:

Distract myself with skill-focused hobbies. When I was younger and had panic attacks, simply reading my favorite book would help calm me down. Nowadays, I can’t seem to focus on reading when I’m anxious so it’s no longer helpful. Instead, my brain needs an activity which forces it to reallocate its thought process completely, so doing something that requires focus, quick thinking or your total attention is preferable. For me, I find this in drawing, difficult video games, puzzles, or podcasts, but it could be anything that forces you to shift mental gears.

Spend time with loved ones. This one is not always helpful depending on how bad the anxiety is, but I found effective when I can feel it creeping up. Talking to your mother or father, siblings, or of course friends can also help distract from negative feelings. Don’t just talk! Do an activity together, like playing a board game, signing karaoke, even going out together if you feel bold enough. If you surround yourself with supportive and entertaining people, sometimes you may not even notice your anxiety melt away.

Consume positive media. Say you’re too antsy to leave the house or even talk to anyone. That’s totally okay. Sometimes, all you need to start feeling better is your laptop! Watching a funny show has really helped calm me down because it’s a positive experience. I find that stories and music with dark, depressing and negative tones only serve to feed my anxiety. AVOID NEGATIVE VIBES! Stand-up comedy, happy/energetic songs, or even vine compilations can help turn your mood around. During my first week alone, I rewatched 6 seasons of the office. It helped a lot, believe it or not! If you have a friend to watch it with, even better.

Mind my breathing. This is the oldest trick in the book and yet I forget to control my breathing every time. If you find yourself on the verge of or during a panic attack, take deep, regulated breaths. Don’t think about anything else. Just in. And out. In. And out. Concentrate on breathing deeply and regularly for as long as you have to.

Take a shower or bath. A surprisingly helpful trick, in my experience. Warm, soothing water can help calm you down. Washing yourself is also a good physical distraction, especially when movements are repeated, like scrubbing your hair. Lose yourself to the task!

If possible, stay in a comforting environment. This could be just me, but my thoughts are at their worst when it’s nighttime. That’s why I like to stay in a brightly illuminated space when I’m feeling bad. It’s not much, but it does help. I find great comfort in my room, so staying in my comfy bed with stuffed animals has helped calm me down.

Make stuff up! This doesn’t apply to everyone, but I have found that creation has been an excellent means of coping with anxiety. If you are the creative type (regardless of any assumed skill), I strongly encourage you to think of projects you would like to do, and develop them. Are you into writing? Try thinking of a story you would like to tell! A poem you could write! Musician? Try writing some lyrics or even compose your own piece! Artist? Daydream about your dream projects. I would personally recommend working on a story. This entails world-building, characters, plot, settings, specific scenes. most of the ideas I’ve had for stories, tv shows, video games and comic books were born and developed been during times of mental crisis. Whether it’s a script, painting, youtube video, or melody, try to unleash the creator within. It is an astoundingly effective distraction.

And most importantly,

Remember that this, too, shall pass. This simple thought has been the most important aid when dealing with my panic disorder. When I was 10, I went through a terrible time, mentally, and had panic attacks nearly every day. My mother would always tell me the story of a wise king, adored by all and renowned for his seemingly perfect mind. When asked by his subjects the secret to his leadership skills, he pointed at the ring he wore on his finger. Engraved in it were the words “this, too, shall pass.” Whenever he felt powerful and invincible, the ring reminded him to think of the future and prepare for adversities. And when he felt powerless, hopeless, alone, utterly despaired, the ring was a reminder that everything is temporary. One day, things will get better, it could even be tomorrow. So he should never give up the fight because nothing is forever. That story really resonated with me. At my worst, I have to tell myself “This will pass. These emotions are strong and seem like the end of me, but soon I’ll feel better and know that this is nothing.” And sure enough, when the panic passes (because it ALWAYS passes), I think “now I can see how much better I feel. The next time I feel anxious, I must remember how I feel right now, and know that I will feel this way again.” So, when you think the situation is hopeless, know that this, too, shall pass.

These are only some of the tricks I’ve used throughout my whole life to get through panic attacks. Notice how most of these tips are about distracting yourself from the anxiety. During panic attacks or anxious bouts, obsessing over whatever problems you may have, even if they seem urgent or inescapable, rarely helps. The goal of these exercises are to help put you in a different, more reasonable state of mind, which you can later use to tackle adversities in a realistic and healthy way. So really, it’s all about letting yourself breathe, cool down and reset.

So, I hope that this silly post has helped! I wish you all the best!

#long post #mental health #anxiety #panic #panic attack #panic disorder #depression #mental illness #coping #coping mechanism #vapidsoup

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