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#ive barely even processed 2017
honeymoon-bear · 4 years
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anyone else on here terrified of getting old ahaha!!!!!
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wiltkingart · 3 years
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hi wilt, sorry if this is a weird ask, but do you have any advice on working faster? ive been drawing for a while, but i feel like even relatively simple things take me a long time to do well compared 2 other people. But whenever I try and force myself to work faster, i think my art suffers for it. I'm just drawing for myself rn, so there's no outside pressure or anything, im just unsure how to draw/paint faster without sacrificing the quality of what i'm working on.
i can speak from my personal experience, at the very least!
first off i want to preface that taking longer than other people to make art isnt a bad thing at all. some artists that i admire a lot have said that they take days or weeks or even months to make a single art piece. the fast paced pressure of being a modern ‘social media artist’ does us more harm than good, i think. and there’s really nothing wrong at all about taking your time, especially if you like your art better when you go at your own pace.
personally i have gotten significantly faster at art over the past 3 years, but that wasnt ever actually my intention. in fact my goal was just to simplify my sketches to make the whole process easier on my hand. but by simplifying my sketches, i ended up cutting back severely on the amount of time it would normally take to overwork and cleanup my sketches, as well as reducing the amount of time i needed to clean up my work while coloring. so it became a positive side effect of my original goal, rather than my main focus.
for example, this is what my sketches looked like in 2016
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i would spend so much time and effort on them that i would often end up just using the sketch as lineart and coloring underneath.
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lots of artists do this, and it isnt bad at all! but this was very stressful on my hand. i literally got tendonitis so bad i had to see a physical therapist and rethink my whole life, and i was hardly able to make actual paintings because it would take so long and the rendering/cleanup process was hell. in 2017 i tried to mitigate the problem by letting myself be messy in both the sketch + painting process. thus the start of the wiggly era.
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but it wasnt enough. i still didnt like how much time i was spending on cleanup/rendering. so began my 2018 journey to simplify my sketches and i forced myself to do this by completely removing my ability to use pen pressure by using the binary tool. i also started laying down silhouettes first, which is something i still do to this day.
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i’ll admit it was a rough period of time, but i kept at it! i liked how i had more freedom and maneuverability with the painting phase. and eventually i adapted to it and became more comfortable with it and my art started to look and feel decent again.
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i became so comfortable with it that i decided it was time to set aside the binary tool and go back to my good old friend the marker tool, because i missed having the ability to make sketches that looked good on their own too. but by now i had the ability to quickly and effectively make sketches that held the bare minimum information i needed to work with.
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and right now im really happy with my current art process. its super flexible and im satisfied with splitting up my time as 10% sketch 90% color/painting. plus my hand pain is at an all time minimum! so i guess what im trying to say with all this is that as long as you’re happy with your process and your art, it doesn’t matter how slow or fast you are. if you’re not happy with your process, then by all means try new things. but i dont think speed is in any way an indicator of skill.
“im just unsure how to draw/paint faster without sacrificing the quality of what i'm working on.”
if you dont want to change the way your art looks then there’s no need to force the issue. but if you are still interested in trying to speed up your work, there will most definitely be a dip in quality for a while while you figure things out and learn new techniques, as i think ive shown with my journey. but that dip will be temporary.
as far as how to speed up your work, ive only shown my approach to it and there’s dozens of different ways to do it. some people force themselves to do 5 min / 1 min / 30 second figure studies. other people use multiply/overlay effects to speed up the coloring process. its a highly personal matter and i would recommend asking other artists or looking up tutorials! best of luck and i hope this helps in some small way.
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Midnight PTSD induced ramblings
Anyone else ever start recalling a story of something crazy/traumatic that you saw or did as a first responder , Nurse, Doctor etc. and as you’re starting to say these things out loud you begin to question yourself like
“wait did I just make that up? Did it actually happen like that?”
Because as you’re unpacking all this trauma that you had shoved so far down into your cold dead heart that you never even processed and now that you’re speaking it, it seems so crazy that there’s no way that actually be true.
Anyone else? Anyone…
This happened today. I worked with a nurse who’s a traveler. The nicest and coolest girl. She saw my very visible arm tattoo with the Vegas strip skyline and the words Vegas strong underneath. I absolutely love this tattoo and I guess it set me up for these questions but sometimes it really sucks. I don’t mind talking about it because it is therapeutic but recalling those incidents, sometimes you don’t realize just HOW traumatic they until your say it out loud.
TW‼️Talking about the Vegas MCI in October 2017. ⚠️
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I talked about it like I was just chatting with an old friend over coffee. So nonchalant. I told her how people were doing CPR on their friends/family that was clearly deceased begging EMS to help them. Walking past these people or having to drag them away to a safer location. The constant cell phones ringing on the scene, over and over. Families desperately hoping their loved ones answer and simultaneously knowing they never will. The hospitals that were FLOODED with hundreds of patients. 2-3 “red tags” to a bed. The floor, COVERED in blood, pooling together. The most dehumanizing thing was seeing the deceased victims, dragged in on a sheet or laid on the bare floor, piled together in a back ER room to make space for the continuing onslaught of people coming in with multiple GSW’s.
But at the exact same time, the most humanizing and humbling moments, seeing those who had zero medical knowledge jump in and help where they could. I remember a man walking in with a GSW to the leg. Limping while holding pressure as he helped a young female inside the ER. She was shot in the abdomen. They didn’t know eachother. He put her in the back of a random persons pick up and didn’t even realize he was injured until they pulled up at the ER. He insisted “take her first I’ll be fine. She needs help more than me.”
The pharmacist standing in the hallway telling nurses to grab handfuls of rocephin and morphine. The nurses trailing behind an off duty emt putting IVs in every person one by one. On the floor. In the lobby, in the hallway.
About halfway through that story I look over at the nurse I was with and she has her jaw basically on the floor at this point and that’s when I realized, now that I said that out loud, holy fuck. And even though I clearly remember every part of that night it still felt like a nightmare fuled warzone.
But maybe that’s my brain trying to prevent itself from going into a PTSD induced anxiety attack by tricking me into thinking i made it all up. Sometimes I wish it was made up. I wish I could turn that part of my brain off. Just for a few hours so I can sleep. Maybe I just needed to get it all out.
Here’s to hoping for a better day tomorrow.
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simulacrumcfp · 4 years
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CALL FOR PAPERS: MYTHS
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Two mermaids, from Apocalypse, Prophecy of the Tiburtine Sibyl, Harley MS 4972 f. 20r, 1275-1325.
He placed one hand upon my shoulder and, holding me tight, bared my throat with the other, saying as he did so: “First, a little refreshment to reward my exertions. You may as well be quiet; it is not the first time, or the second, that your veins have appeased my thirst!” 
Lucy’s eyes were unclean […], instead of pure.
Poor Lucy finds herself tainted by the bite of Count Dracula, an aristocratic Transylvanian vampire that is thirsty for blood, out to export his barbaric ways to Victorian England. In his Dracula (1897), Bram Stoker utilises the myth of the vampire to warn the Victorian reader of the Eastern threat, by portraying Eastern Europe as a place of backwardness and barbaric – vampiristic – rituals. Myths about vampires have been around since the medieval period, when they were commonly linked to profanity. Stoker’s Dracula is the resurrection of a mythological figure, one that can be guided in all sorts of directions, for what was once the myth of the undead has come to represent the fears and threats of the time in which they are resurrected. 
Since ancient times, myths have spoken of the how’s and why’s located at the limits of human understanding, designating that place where intellect fails. There, where knowers stop knowing, we story. In The World of Myth (1990) David Leeming writes that ‘human beings have traditionally used stories to describe or explain things they could not otherwise,’ pointing to the timeless human tendency to grapple with the unknown through story. The myth functions as the means by which we relate to the unknown, embodying our wonderings of the worlds beyond human ratio. 
These stories are then conveyed through artworks, literature, history, or religion. Myths, however, do not just function as a source of inspiration for the arts, but often find their origin in art, spreading, evolving, and growing with different art forms and styles. The Venus Anadyomene, for example, first emerged from the sea in the Theogony – a poem by Hesiod from the 8th century BC. This specific depiction of Venus, daughter of Jupiter and Dione, as birthed by the sea was then made famous by the painting by Apelles (4th century BC). Although this painting has long been lost, it was described by Pliny in his Naturalis Historia (1st century AD), which served as an iconological guidebook for artists. From the orators who tell and retell their stories throughout generations, to the poets who write them down, to the sculptors who carve them out, stories are kept alive. To this day, Venus is most commonly known as the goddess who rose from the sea. 
In the Danish fairytale Den Lille Havfrue (1837) by Hans Christian Andersen, sea foam is not where love is born, but where love goes to die. In the Walt Disney adaptation of the fairytale, The Little Mermaid (1989), mermaid princess Ariel, daughter of king Triton, falls in love with a human prince and gives up her tail to be with him. In the original, quite grim, fairytale by Andersen, the little mermaid finds her prince lying with another. She refuses to stab the lovers to death, as her sisters urge her to, and as a result of her broken heart she dissolves in the foam of the waves. 
In Japan, ancient folklore is being retold to a modern audience through the films by Hayao Miyazaki. His Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi (Spirited Away, 2001) animates kami, spirits, washing themselves in a bathhouse as a result of pollution and human activity. This mirrors the Shinto belief that both gods and nature have to be respected and kept clean, and serves as a modern warning. Their demonic counterparts, the oni, take form in the character of Yubaba, who is based on the archetype of the mountain witch, or yumuaba. By taking Japanese mythology as a starting point, Miyazaki is able to create a fantasy-scape: a place where the unthinkable becomes possible. 
Perhaps our first association with mythology brings us back to Ancient Greece. But for them, μῦθος simply meant a story – whether a true or false one, gossip, a historical tale or one of faeries, even a dream. Mῦθος and λόγος, two seemingly opposite terms, fantasy and reason, come together in mythology: the analysing and explaining of stories. There are several ways in which a myth can be explained, and therefore one can also speak of several mythologies. In Creative Mythology (1968) for example, American mythologist Joseph Campbell describes how literary figures such as Thomas Mann or James Joyce managed to make themselves into “living myths,” by translating individual experiences through the correct signs. Shakespeare, with his plays, even managed to create myths around historical figures such as King Henry IV, attracting audiences that were eager to learn about history. History has made other figures into myths as well, such as Louis XIV, known as the Sun King, or Marie Antoinnete.  
In his Mythologies (1957) Roland Barthes explains the creation and circulation of myths through signs and language. According to Barthes, myths are a societal necessity created on the basis of contemporary social value systems, whereby myth formation should mainly be seen as a semiological process, partly as an ideological one. In the essay “Myth Today,” Barthes examines French bourgeois myths that are deeply rooted in society, yet often go unnoticed or taken as fact. By deconstructing modern myths that are spread through advertisements and propaganda, Barthes is able to get to the core of the societal value system of his time. Most famously, he deconstructs the myths around France’s two national products: steak frites and red wine. Both serve as metaphors for blood which, in French society, equals vitality and virility, which equals masculinity, which equals superiority. Equating France with steak frites and red wine then means equating France with virility, masculinity, superiority. 
In “The Double Standard of Aging” (1972), Susan Sontag tackles another modern myth that is deeply-rooted in society, concerning women and age. In the essay, she explains how and why women “of a certain age” are deemed physically undesirable, noting that this differentiates per country. She explains that urbanised societies allow two standards of male beauty, the man and the boy, but only one of female beauty: the girl. This societal judgement of beauty mirrors the evolutionary myth that the value of women is based on their ability for procreation. As a woman’s fertility decreases with age, so does her societal worth.
As the myth moves beyond the human, outside the world as we know it, it writes a strange universe.  It points to that which is not completely explainable according to our current structures for categorising the world. The enchanted world of the supernatural, with its gods, witches, and vampires, perhaps writes of a darker, less knowable reality. Their magic, spells, and strange rituals trouble the disenchanted story of Enlightenment, which tells of reason, control, and certainty – a myth in itself. But even though these supernatural entities tell of the incredible and unbelievable, they remain somewhat explainable. Vampires, gods, and witches, for example, are familiar figures based on a set of commonly understood fictions, differing ever so slightly from the human. ‘In many ways, a natural phenomenon such as a black hole is more weird than a vampire,’ writes Mark Fisher in The Weird and The Eerie (2016). We understand where to place and how to interpret the vampire as a fictional entity. A black hole actually exists, yet we do not understand its strange ways of bending space and time. Science Fiction balances on this thin line between fiction and reality. Perhaps the biggest myths, strangest entities, and weirdest monsters are not necessarily found within the fictional realm of the supernatural but right here in ‘the natural.’ 
‘Coral reefs are monsters.’ In the Arts of Living on a Damaged Planet (2017), Anna Tsing equates this natural phenomenon to the supernatural. Like the mythical chimeras of ancient Greece – beasts made up of the head of a lion, the body of a goat, and the tail of a snake – coral reefs are made of mismatched parts. They embody a strange species encounter as their polyps grow from both animal, plant, and more. Symbiosis, the interaction between two different organisms living in close physical association, might point to some monstrous truth essential to our current epoch of living with the world. In all our vulnerable entanglements with more than human life – we humans too are monsters. 
There are literary differences to be found between myths, fairy tales, sagas, lores, fables, and legends. Fairy tales, for example, often take place in a fantastical world, in which magical creatures roam, and battles between Good and Evil take place. Myths, on the other hand, often have a basis in religion and tell stories about gods or divine creators. Both contain supernatural elements, sometimes these have a basis in history, sometimes in religion, and sometimes in fantasy. For this issue of Simulacrum, we have therefore chosen to soften the boundaries between these ways of storytelling, in order to be open to multiple mythologies, their meanings, and interpretations.
Fancy yourself a modern mythologist? Write an article of 1.000, 1.400, or 1.800 words for our upcoming issue, Mythologies. The deadline for first drafts is the 15th of November, 2020. Would you rather write a column, an interview, fiction, poetry, or do you know an artist whose work fits with this theme? Email us at [email protected]. Please send articles as .doc or .docx and portfolio’s as PDF.
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CALL FOR PAPERS: Mythologieën
Hij legde een hand op mijn schouder, hield me stevig vast, ontblootte mijn keel met de andere en zei daarbij: ‘Eerst een beetje verfrissing om mijn inspanningen te belonen. U kunt net zo goed stil zijn; het is niet de eerste keer, of de tweede, dat je aderen mijn dorst hebben gestild!’
Lucy’s ogen waren onrein [...], in plaats van puur
Lucy wordt gebeten door de bloeddorstige Graaf Dracula, een aristocratische vampier uit Transsylvanië, die er op uit is om zijn zondige en barbaarse levensstijl naar Victoriaans Engeland over te brengen. In zijn roman Dracula (1897) zet Bram Stoker de mythische vampier in om de Victoriaanse lezers te waarschuwen voor de opkomende ‘dreiging van het Oosten’ door Oost-Europa af te schilderen als een plek van barbaarse – vampiristische – rituelen. Mythes over vampieren gaan al rond sinds de middeleeuwen en werden toen vooral gelinkt aan godslastering. Met Dracula wekt Stoker dit mythologische figuur op uit de dood en blaast deze nieuw leven in. De vampier, eens de mythe van de ondoden, vertegenwoordigt voortaan de angsten en bedreigingen van de tijd waarin ze herrijst.
Sinds de oudheid gaan mythen over het hoe en het waarom. Daarmee bevinden ze zich aan de grenzen van het menselijk begrip – daar waar het intellect faalt, wordt er verhaald. In The World of Myth (1990) schrijft David Leeming dat ‘mensen van oudsher verhalen hebben gebruikt om dingen te beschrijven of uit te leggen die ze zonder niet zouden kunnen,’ duidend op een tijdloze menselijke neiging om door middel van verhaal door het onbekende te navigeren. Zo functioneert de mythe als het middel waarmee we ons verhouden tot het onbekende, en belichaamt deze onze verwondering over de werelden buiten de menselijke ratio.
Deze verhalen leven vervolgens door via de kunst, literatuur, geschiedenis of religie. Mythen gelden echter niet alleen als inspiratiebron voor de kunsten, maar vinden ook vaak hun oorsprong in de kunst, en verspreiden, evolueren en groeien met verschillende kunstvormen en -stijlen mee. Zo verrees de Venus Anadyomene voor het eerst uit de zee in de Theogonie - een gedicht van Hesiodus uit de 8e eeuw BC. Deze specifieke weergave van Venus, dochter van Jupiter en Dione, als geboren uit de zee werd vervolgens beroemd gemaakt door het schilderij van Apelles (4e eeuw BC). Hoewel het schilderij verloren is geraakt, werd de Venus Anadyomene door Plinius beschreven in de Naturalis Historia (1e eeuw AD), dat diende als iconologische handboek voor volgende generaties kunstenaars. Van de redenaars die generaties lang hun verhalen vertellen, tot de dichters die ze opschrijven en de beeldhouwers die ze uithakken, worden verhalen levend gehouden. Zo staat Venus tot op de dag van vandaag bekend als de godin die uit de zee verrees.
In het Deense sprookje Den Lille Havfrue (1837) van Hans Christian Andersen is zeeschuim niet waar de liefde wordt geboren, maar waar liefde sterft. In de Walt Disney-bewerking van het sprookje, De Kleine Zeemeermin (1989), wordt zeemeermin prinses Ariel, dochter van koning Triton, verliefd op een menselijke prins en geeft ze haar schubben op om bij hem te zijn. In de originele, aanzienlijk grimmigere versie van Andersen treft de kleine zeemeermin haar beminde in bed bij een ander aan. Ze weigert de twee geliefden dood te steken, zoals haar zussen haar toe aanzetten, en als gevolg van haar gebroken hart lost ze op in het schuim van de golven.
In Japan wordt oude folklore voorgedragen aan een modern publiek door de films van Hayao Miyazaki. De geanimeerde Sen to Chihiro no kamikakushi (De reis van Chihiro, 2001) brengt kami, geesten, tot leven. Ten gevolge van menselijke vervuiling moeten de kami zich wassen in badhuizen om zichzelf weer schoon te krijgen. Deze moderne interpretatie weerspiegelt het Shinto-geloof dat zowel goden als de natuur moeten worden gerespecteerd door ze schoon te houden. De demonische tegenhangers, de oni, krijgen vorm in het karakter van Yubaba, die is gebaseerd op het archetype van de bergheks, de yumuaba. Door de Japanse mythologie als uitgangspunt te nemen, is Miyazaki in staat een ‘fantasyscape’ te creëren: een plek waar het ondenkbare mogelijk wordt.
Wellicht brengt een eerste associatie met mythologie ons terug naar de Klassieke Oudheid. Voor de Grieken betekende μῦθος echter simpelweg een verhaal – of dit nu een waar of een onwaar verhaal was; roddels, geschiedenis of een sprookje, zelfs dromen werden gezien als mythe. Mῦθος en λόγος, twee ogenschijnlijk tegengestelde termen, de fantasie en de rede, komen samen in de mythologie: het analyseren en verklaren van verhalen. Er zijn verschillende manieren waarop een mythe verklaard kan worden, en daarom kan er ook sprake zijn van meerdere mythologieën. In Creative Mythology (1968) beschrijft de Amerikaanse mytholoog Joseph Campbell bijvoorbeeld hoe literaire figuren als Thomas Mann of James Joyce erin slaagden om 'levende mythen' van zichzelf te maken door individuele ervaringen met de juiste tekens te vertalen. Shakespeare slaagde er met zijn toneelstukken in mythen te creëren rondom historische figuren zoals koning Hendrik IV, en trok daarmee een publiek aan dat graag over de geschiedenis wilde leren. Zo ook zijn andere figuren zoals Lodewijk XIV, beter bekend als de Zonnekoning, of Marie Antoinette, binnen de historie tot mythen geraakt.
In Mythologies (1975) analyseert Roland Barthes het ontstaan en de circulatie van mythen aan de hand van semiotiek en taal. Volgens Barthes zijn mythen onmisbaar in de maatschappij en baseren zij zich op hedendaagse sociale waardesystemen, waarbij de formatie van de mythe voornamelijk gezien moet worden als een semiologisch process en deels ideologisch. In het essay “Myth Today,” onderzoekt Barthes diepgewortelde Franse mythen die nochtans onopgemerkt blijven of als feit worden beschouwd. Door de deconstructie van moderne mythen, verspreid door reclame en propaganda, komt Barthes tot de kern van zijn eigentijdse sociale waardesysteem. Meest bekend is de deconstructie van de mythe rondom twee nationale Franse producten: biefstuk en rode wijn. Beide dienen als metafoor voor bloed, dat in de Franse maatschappij rijmt met vitaliteit en moed, die rijmen met mannelijkheid, dat rijmt met superioriteit. Het gelijkstellen van Frankrijk aan biefstuk en rode wijn betekent het gelijkstellen van Frankrijk aan moed, mannelijkheid en superioriteit.
In The Double Standard of Aging (1972) pakt Susan Sontag een andere diepgewortelde mythe aan, een omtrent vrouwen en leeftijd. In haar essay zet ze uit een hoe en waarom vrouwen vanaf een bepaalde leeftijd fysiek niet begeerbaar worden geacht, en merkt hierbij op dat dit per land verschilt. Ze legt uit dat verstedelijkte samenlevingen twee normen voor mannelijke schoonheid kennen, die van de man en die van de jongen, en maar een voor vrouwen, die van het meisje. Dit maatschappelijke schoonheidsoordeel weerspiegeld de evolutaire mythe die stelt dat de waarde van een vrouw gelijk staat aan haar voortplantingsvermogen. Net zoals de vruchtbaarheid van een vrouw  verminderd naarmate zij verjaard, verminderd ook haar maatschappelijke waarde. 
Naarmate de mythe de mens passeert, buiten de wereld zoals wij haar kennen treedt, schept ze een vreemd universum. Ze wijst naar dat wat we nog niet kunnen verklaren met onze huidige structuren voor het categoriseren van de wereld. Het betoverde rijk van het bovennatuurlijke, met haar goden, heksen en vampiers, schetst wellicht een donkerdere realiteit die zich minder goed laat kennen. Hun magie, spreuken en vreemde rituelen zetten zich af tegen het onttoverde narratief van de verlichting, welk van rede, controle en verstand spreekt – een mythe an sich. Maar hoewel deze bovennatuurlijke entiteiten verhalen vertellen over het ongelofelijke, blijven ze enigszins verklaarbaar. Vampiers, goden en heksen bijvoorbeeld, zijn vertrouwde figuren gebaseerd op een verzameling van collectieve fictie, die net afwijken van het menselijke. ‘In many ways, a natural phenomenon such as a black hole is more weird than a vampire,’ schreef Mark Fisher in The Weird and the Eerie (2016). We begrijpen hoe we vampiers als fictionele entiteit moeten plaatsen en interpreteren. Zwarte gaten bestaan echter wél, terwijl wij hun vreemde manieren in het buigen van tijd en ruimte niet bevatten. Science-fiction balanceert op deze dunne lijn tussen fictie en realiteit. Misschien zijn de grootste mythen, raarste entiteiten en meest vervreemdende monsters wel niet te vinden in het fictionele landschap van het bovennatuurlijke maar juist pal hier in het ‘natuurlijke.’
‘Coral reefs are monsters.’ In Arts of Living on a Dying Planet (2017), stelt Anna Tsing dit natuurlijke fenomeen gelijk aan het bovennatuurlijke. Zoals de mythische chimeras uit de Griekse oudheid – beesten met het hoofd van een leeuw, het lichaam van een geit en de staart van een slang – bestaan koraalriffen uit mismatched onderdelen. Met hun poliepen die zowel dierlijk als plantaardig kunnen zijn, belichamen ze een vreemde ontmoeting tussen de soorten. Symbiose, de interactie tussen twee verschillende organismen die in nauw contact met elkaar leven, wijzen ons wellicht naar een bepaalde, monsterlijke waarheid die essentieel is aan ons huidige tijdperk van leven met de aarde. In al onze kwetsbare verstrengelingen met meer dan menselijk leven, zijn ook wij mensen monsters.
Er zijn literaire verschillen te vinden tussen mythen, sprookjes, sagen, fabels en legenden. Sprookjes, bijvoorbeeld, vinden vaak plaats in een fantasiewereld, waar magische figuren rondzwerven en een strijd tussen goed en kwaad plaatsvindt. Mythes, aan de andere kant, vinden vaak hun oorsprong in religie en vertellen over goden en hemelse scheppers. Beiden bevatten bovennatuurlijke elementen. Soms ligt de basis daarvan in geschiedenis, soms in religie, soms in fantasie. Voor deze uitgave van Simulacrum hebben we er daarom voor gekozen de grenzen tussen deze literaire genres te vervagen, om ons open te stellen voor verschillende mythologieën, hun betekenissen en interpretaties.
Waan je jezelf een moderne mytholoog? Schrijf een artikel van 1.000, 1.400 of 1.800 woorden voor ons komende nummer Mythologieën. De deadline voor de eerste versies is op 15 november 2020. Schrijf je liever een column, interview, fictie of poëzie, of ken je een kunstenaar wiens werk in dit thema ligt? Email naar [email protected]. Voeg artikelen s.v.p. bij als .doc of .docx en portfolio’s als PDF.
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yasbxxgie · 4 years
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By the time I made the hike down the long pathway from the top of Kyoto’s Fushimi Inari to the houses below, I was thirsty. Which was convenient, since many local residents take advantage of foot traffic from the mountainside Shinto shrine by hosting small cafes in their homes. It was on that winding street that I first encountered amazake, an ancient, non-alcoholic, lightly fermented rice drink, which a helpful English sign noted could be served “hot or cold”.
I looked at the faintly sweet and creamy drink as a reward for my physical activity, one that, like kombucha, promised to replenish me after physical activity. But what my ¥400 (£3) bought me was actually a microcosm of Japanese culinary history.
First developed in the Kofun period (around 250 to 538AD), amazake was originally a food fermentation and preservation technique, created by boiling rice, water and koji, a filamentous fungus that is also used in the fermentation of miso, natto and soy sauce, for eight to 10 hours. The resulting drink, which is packed full of nutrients and gut-friendly bacteria, became so popular that it’s even mentioned in the Nihon Shoki, a text compiled in 720AD that comprises the oldest official history of Japan.
Since then, the drink has seen several rises and falls in popularity. Sales jumped 134.8% between 2016 and 2017, according to food and drink exhibition Foodex Japan, at the time that at-home fermentation became a trendy pastime. The drink then continued its popularity in 2019, thanks in no small part to boyband Kanjani Eight, who were hired to act as spokespeople for Hiyashi Amazake, a popular brand throughout Japan. Amazake also has a regular presence in cafes and convenience stores across the country, with locals sipping on it as a morning treat or afternoon pick-me-up.
Hiroshi Sugihara (杉原大), a fishmonger and fermentation enthusiast originally from Japan’s Aichi prefecture who relocated to Perth, Australia, has seen the rise of fermentation culture firsthand. His Facebook group THE BREW LIFE-発酵生活 has swelled to more than 5,900 members worldwide since its creation in 2014. Already a fan of fermenting miso and doburoku (a form of sake), he enjoyed introducing amazake, a drink from his childhood, to the group.
“It was very interesting and there were mixed reactions from Caucasian [members] but Asians were able to relate [it] to some of their traditional sweets,” he said.
Sugihara fondly recalls drinking hot amazake at temples on New Year’s Eve. Because the beverage is believed to have warming qualities (particularly due to ginger, which is often used to add flavour), it tends to be heavily consumed during the winter months, a period that includes several major holidays, including the Hinamatsuri “Doll Festival”. This has resulted in many Japanese people considering the drink as a tie to both their past and current national culture. As Shihoko Ura, author of food blog Chopstick Chronicles explains, her memories of amazake are laced with a fair amount of sentimentality, particularly now that she’s migrated to Australia.
“I used to be a Red Cross-trained RN in Ise City, Mie prefecture, where there is [the] famous Ise Shrine,” she recalled. “Ise shrine served free amazake for worshippers, and we first-aid employees were also offered the drink. I was always looking forward to the sweet treat when I had a little break in [my] eight-hour shift.”
Amazake is a sugary drink, as hinted at by its name, which translates to “sweet sake”, even though it only contains trace amounts of alcohol due to the fermentation process. Because of that translation, finding it in convenience stores can be tricky for non-Japanese speakers, who should consider asking for a brand name, such as Hiyashi Amazake or Marumi-koji-honten to avoid being served alcoholic sake instead.
As I sipped on my drink, I was surprised by the lumpy texture, similar to rice porridge, due to the small pieces of koji suspended in the liquid. At roughly 80 calories per 100g, it’s healthier than its creamy texture might initially imply, and fans of amazake claim it can positively impact seemingly every part of the body, including hair growth, weight loss, hangover recovery, sleep cycles and bowel movements.
Because of its nutrients, which include B6, folic acid, ferulic acid, dietary fibre and a notable amount of glucose, many claim it deserves a place in Japan’s stable of hangovers cures, which includes beverages made from turmeric or beef liver, ingredients meant to clean a specific organ. And amazake’s drinkable, easy-to-digest, gluten-free nutrients have also earned it the nickname “drinkable IV”, something that Sugihara confirms from experience.
“I usually have it when I have cold or fever and especially when I don’t have an appetite,” he said. “Amazake is something easier to swallow, yummy, and, thanks to the power of starch-breaking enzyme [found in the koji], it’s sort of pre-digested so kind to the digestive system, too.”
Its qualities are also thought to go beyond health benefits. As Misaki (文咲), a model and Spa LaQua ambassador in Tokyo explains, the drink is also loved by the beauty community. “Vitamin B group contained in amazake is related to metabolism of carbohydrates, lipids and proteins, skin and hair,” she told me via email. “Therefore, beauty effects are expected. Amazake also contains an ingredient called ergothioneine, an antioxidant that has the effect of suppressing skin aging.”
But with any food touted as an ancient cure-all, the big question remains. Does it actually work?
Adam Yee, an Austin-based food scientist and host of the podcast My Food Job Rocks, agrees that the minerals and vitamins contained in amazake will help the appearance of skin and hair – if consumed in large amounts. But he also says that the power of suggestion plays a large part in determining a food’s worth. He cited bone broth’s spike in popularity, a beverage that made many similar claims, as one example of good PR. However, he also made it clear that because amazake has an element that’s still very hard to scientifically account for, there may be some hidden, unaccounted truth to these claims.
“Fermentation is something that we really don’t know much about,” he explained. “It’s not like, give it one thing and [it] spits out another thing. Food is so complex, the koji that’s eating whatever it’s around, might actually create something different. You can say the same thing about yeast. Bread and wine are two different things, even though they use the same yeast strain.”
Currently, amazake is barely known outside of Asia. But that looks set to change. Like matcha, which has found its way into desserts both at home and abroad, amazake has become a ubiquitous part of Japanese cuisine, often extending past beverage status. Its continuing success outside of Japan was even predicted by America’s Test Kitchen, who named koji its number one food trend forecast for 2020.
John Sugimura (杉村), corporate executive chef and concept-brand director at PinKU Japanese Street Food in Minneapolis, has turned the drink into a signature part of his offerings, using it both as a creamy base and a way to add unexpected bursts of texture.
“I enjoy delicious baked goods including amazake for its nutrients,” he said. “For me growing up [with Japanese and German parents in the United States], I enjoyed amazake and banana smoothies. I have the most experience making pickles using amazake. And my greatest accomplishment has been incorporating amazake into my ‘sexy sesame dressing’ and salad.
This fusion of cultures may be what will eventually help amazake become a food trend outside of Japan, similar to the way kombucha and quinoa are now widely considered health foods outside their native regions of China/Russia and the Andean region of South America.
Atsushi Nakagawa (中川 貴司), owner of Amazake Co in California, agrees, noting that by linking it to already-popular products, he only has to provide his consumers with a basic introduction to the drink and its potential benefits. After completing apprenticeships at miso and koji microbreweries in Japan over the last few years, he’s pleased at how his knowledge of amazake has sparked the interest of his Los Angeles-based clientele, and how he’s been inspired to play with traditional flavours.
“They get it,” he said. “Especially they love our amazake-mixed latte drinks. We offer Japanese ceremonial matcha, Golden Milk (turmeric, ginger and cinnamon) and horchata flavours. In the last few weeks, more and more people are becoming interested in our Pure Amazake, which is undiluted, so they can use it however they want.”
It might be easy to think of amazake as another trendy food. After all, bone broth, Brussels sprouts and açaí have all seen spikes and falls in popularity. However, those who grew up with amazake see its resurgence within Japan and its gradual introduction outside the country as an opportunity to take pride in their culture. As Sugimura explains, it’s that mindset that encourages him to experiment with the drink’s benefits – and has informed much of his career in food as a whole.
“When I was young, I resisted many Japanese traditions out of fear for the code of etiquette,” he said. “As a third-generation Japanese-American lacking mentoring, there were so many expectations on social behaviour, I became overwhelmed. Fast forward, [and now] every day is a celebration of my Japanese-American heritage.”
Amazake is a cup of Japanese history, but the natural energy the beverage delivers still feels very relevant today. I finished my drink, and returned the glass to the cafe owner, ready to continue exploring Kyoto. It might have just been the superfood at work, but not only did I feel nourished, I felt connected, too.
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Luke Bradley Joins Rebel
If you have been coming to Rebel in the afternoon the past few weeks you may have seen a boy working out in the back of the gym. His name is Luke Bradley aka THE LEGEND.
I wanted to share his story so everyone has an understanding of what Luke has gone through the past decade and what an inspiration he truly is.
Luke and I met during my playing days at Springfield College through an organization called Team IMPACT. This amazing non-profit pairs up children with life threatening illnesses and disabilities with college athletic programs. We were fortunate to have Luke become part of the team, and it was then when our friendship started.
Luke was first diagnosed with leukemia at age 6 back in 2011. He underwent 3 years of standard chemotherapy and had a few years of remission afterwards. Then in 2015, tragedy struck when Luke’s leukemia relapsed and he contracted bacterial meningitis just 3 weeks after starting a new trial therapy at the Jimmy Fund and Boston Children’s Hospital. He spent months in the ICU, suffered seizures, and barely survived the damage to his ventricles and brain.
As if things couldn’t get any worse Luke fought with hydrocephalus, a condition of swelling in the brain due to ventricle damage and an increase in fluid pressure around the brain. Luke suffered a stroke and needed to be resuscitated multiple times over a 12 month period. Finally, after 10 neurosurgeries to try and open up the “plumbing” in Luke’s head, a shunt was installed that fit just well enough to allow the cysts and blockages to connect and drain.
Now here is a kid who hasn’t had a regular childhood since he was 6 years old. No play dates, youth sports, taking the bus to school with his friends. Being fed through tubes and connected to IV’s was something he was accustomed to. Holidays and birthdays were spent in ICU. There was no family dinner asking one another how their day went. Hospitals and cancer became Luke’s family new “norm”.
Finally, Luke was able to go home. This began a long rehabilitation process of OT, PT, speech therapy, and educational therapy. As Luke was getting stronger, and just reached the point where he could ride a bike again with his brothers Caleb and Eli, his leukemia came back for the third time.
Since that time, Luke has undergone a bone marrow transplant in December of 2017. The donor was his dad, Ryan. After the successful transplant Luke was in isolation until October of 2018. My wife and I got married in November of 2018 and Luke stood right by my side during the ceremony. Something that I never thought was going to be possible. Against all odds, Luke did something no one else in medical history has done. He beat it all.
Today, Luke continues to rebuild everything that was once taken away from him. He is getting stronger both physically and mentally and has recently taken his talents to Rebel Fitness where he is absolutely CRUSHING his rehab! For me, it’s something I can’t even explain. I watched him fight for his life every single day so having the opportunity to help him rehab is a surreal feeling.
There will be a movie made about him one day. Luke is a medical miracle. I hope next time you see him working out in the back of the gym it helps you take your own workouts to the next level! Don’t forget, you guys are inspiring him too. He’ll be watching!
After you read this go home and give your kids a hug. We all take our family dinners and holiday parties for granted. Simple things in life like watching your kids run and play outside with their friends and get the opportunity to go school every day. Life is too short to complain about the little things and it’s time we all start realizing that.
If you want to help out other families like the Bradley’s visit www.lukestronger.org for more info! #LukeStronger
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pcoswontstopme-blog · 5 years
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The emotional roller-coaster you go through when having PCOS and wanting a family. TTC W/ PCOS
They tell you that everything will be okay and to keep a positive outlook, that no matter what, god will answer your prayers “When It’s Your TIME”. However, I find it hard to believe, then again i'm not sure what to believe anymore. There are way to many situations that make me think that it's not completely up to god to tell us when we are ready or not. I truly think that we are never really ready for anything this world throws at us. I have never really wrote down everything I've felt while experiencing this, and i think it's time i take the time to LET IT OUT. I am not posting this to get the approval from others but sometimes you just need to let it out, and from what I've come across on the internet, I might be able to help someone that may be experiencing the same things as me . . I hope to be that encouragement to those that face these challenges .
Well, let me start by introducing myself as Luna, ( Not my real name but we don't need to get that personal, i want to share my experience, not my government credentials ). However i will tell you this, i am at the age of 25 and will be turning 26 in just a few short months. I’ve been in a stable and healthy relationship for about 9 years, He is truly amazing and one of the biggest blessings in my life. We have a pretty active sex life and should have been blessed with a beautiful baby by now. Unfortunately, that has not happened yet. I was diagnosed with PCOS in 2016, and let me tell you everything started to make since after i heard the news. The lack of periods for months was the first sign that i suspected to have PCOS, following the lack of periods came the facial hair ( mainly light hairs on the upper lip ), the lack of weight loss or weight gain, ( i have been 175 lbs since 2010 ) and along with all of these symptoms i have one of the worst over-actives bladders. I wake up 6 times a night and use the restroom about every 30 minutes to every hour . Let’s just say, I finally had enough and went to the doctors where I was given Metformin and birth control to help regulate my hormones and period, unfortunately the Metformin made me feel extremely sick and the birth control made my periods even worse. I then decided to take the natural route and avoid any medications from 2016 mid year to 2018 mid year.
Mid 2016 after all the metformin and terrible birth control i finally decided to start home remedies, in hopes that something will spark a hormone in my body that will level out all the other hormones . After hours of research i came across this pill called “ Dong Quai Root “, Everything they posted on the website seemed amazing, but i should have known not to believe everything they post on the internet.  The Dong Quai Root was taken for approx. 2 months and within those 2 months i did not see a difference other then cramping and skin irritation. I felt dehydrated and sick the whole time i was taking that pill. At this point 2016 is coming to an end and i have given up all hope on having a family because nothing seemed to work . we decided to take a year off in 2017 and let nature run its course and just like the last year NOTHING HAPPENED . Not once did i get a positive HPT, everyone around me was having babies or announcing they were expecting . You try so hard  to be supportive but deep down you are drowning in your own tears because you just want to experience the babies movements and experience the start of your VERY OWN FAMILY, you just end up feeling so helpless and broken. You begin to question if you are good enough to be a mom, if god has some vendetta against me, if i'm living life the wrong way. BUT……. Then again you have to look at all the ones who get pregnant on drugs, get pregnant after being raped, and those who also have trouble getting pregnant. We are not alone and one day we will get our blessing.    
2018 , The start of clomid - After sitting depressed and losing hope, i got up and told myself not to give up. I have come this far to give up ? NO WAY, NOT TODAY SATAN ! . March 2nd, 2018 i was prescribed clomid on a small dose of 50mg for 5 days, now here's the tricky part. - My Dr. told me that since i do not get a period i can take it when i get the medicine and take OPK test to check when i ovulate. - NOW, anyone who has tried TTC and is new to the OPK knows that they can be beyond the point of confusing. So due to being confused the first month was a complete BUST. May rolled around and i took round 2 of clomid - 50 mg- about 2 weeks after taking the clomid i was experiencing cramping, cw discharge ( ovulation ) , extremely sore breast, still frequent urination ( i experience this on a daily and THIS WILL NOT HELP ME DISTINGUISH IF I AM PREGNANT OR NOT ), back pain, mood swings and being extremely tired all day . Even with all the symptoms i felt from the 2nd round i still had a negative HPT, the tears are rolling and my hope is flying out the window.
Ive seen and heard of women that take 2 rounds of clomid and they get pregnant after the first or second round. You start to think that you’re not meant to have kids. I refuse to give up that easily, through the pain and tears i will fight until the end to have a beautiful blessing . July, September And November i experienced the same symptoms that i listed above, expect in December i took the clomid with a tbsp of Robitussin , and Got a normal 6 day period and ovulated on the same time every month i took clomid, and still nothing but a NEGATIVE HPT . I ended the clomid in November , I started to get this extremely light pink spotting on November 9th nothing that required a pad it ended the same day it started and arrived again on the 13th to the 16th, again it was nothing that showed on a pad it was only when i wiped.  After the 16th i didn't get spotting again until the 24th of November to the 26th which was again nothing major with was accompanied by some slight flutters and cramping mainly on the left side of my uterus area. The flutters and cramps started to fade away and i felt somewhat normal until November 30th when the cramping and the spotting came back and ended on the 1st of December . I didn't have much spotting through December i only had spotting on December 7th, 20th, and the 21st, for the whole month of December i did not get a period but on December 26th thru the 28th i was puking and feeling extremely sick and sleeping. After those few days i felt completely fine and haven't thrown up since, with all of the on and off symptoms i really believed that this was going to be my first positive HPT, sadly i was mistaken. On January 1st , 2019 i took a HPT and it was negative. After about 15 minutes of reading the result on the test i noticed a very thin line , chances are that it was just the evaporation line from the test sitting for too long. This whole month of January 2019 has been a huge roller coaster. My body is feeling way to many symptoms to process what is really going on. On January 10th i started to get some very light spotting again. At this point i knew it wasn't going to last more then a day , it was beyond the point of light and barely showed. However that didn't make me think that i was pregnant, with all the negative HPT that i have taken i really couldn't bring myself to take another one and end up with heartache.
Here is where i start to worry, from January 11th thru the 19th i didn't feel any type of cramping, discomfort, spotting, sore breast, exhaustion, or mood swings. I started to believe that the PCOS was going back to a unbalanced mess until January 20th hit. On January 20th i started cramping on my left side, that spotting came back ( extremely light and only showed when i wiped ), i have this constant light/dull cramping sensation all across my uterus, and now i am experiencing 2 weeks of excruciating sore nipples and breast, my breast hurt when i walk no matter how fast or slow, they hurt to have a bra on, when water hits them, even massaging them makes the pain go from a 8 to a 15, this lasted up until today February 2nd 2019, On February 1st 2019 i took a HPT to check and see if maybe this was it, maybe i finally became pregnant after 7 full years of trying. So i made sure that i was going to buy a $5 test ( i don't trust dollar tree test since i have PCOS i have read about women who do not show HTC levels on most test mainly the cheap test - how true it is idk but i wanted a test that made me feel confident ) . I took the test and sadly got a negative, and again that ultra thin line showed up that is extremely hard to see unless you hold it up to a light. Evaporation line ?? . . i'm all out of options. I have a doctors appointment as of february 21st to see what we have going on . I promise to fight day in and day out until the day i get blessed with a family and even after i will fight to provide the best life for you that i can .
There will always be those people in you life that tell you “ Dont have kids “ “ you want them now but just wait til their 2, 3, 6, 16, 19, “ or the famous “ kids are expensive “ saying from people who would rather pay for beer then formula or diapers. No matter what we go through in life, we will never be fully ready to have a child. I know that mentally i can handle a group of 4 kids running wild and i still find the patience and time to tend to their needs and my own. I know for a fact that i can love a child unconditionally and provide for them regardless . My heart is screaming to be a mom. I would love nothing more then to be able to raise my child to be the best person they can be in this sad messed up world. Many people want to raise their kids to know how to fight and tell someone off when they feel offended. I want to raise my child to know that they dont need friends in this world to be successful, they do not need drugs or alcohol to feel like they can fit in, they dont need to bully other kids to make themselves feel better, i want to show them how to respect their elders, they will use manners and speak properly, they will attend school and most of all THEY WILL FEEL LOVED AND SAFE . they will know that no matter where they go in life , that i their mother will always be right there and always do my best to give them the world. Most people cant stand to see other parents actually attend to their kids needs. We are instantly called brainwashed or weak.
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flamewyrmz · 6 years
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a late night rant from twitter im putting in one place, because its a trainwreck of several threads there. mostly copy/paste and still not proofread, but a collection of thoughts on gender, sexuality, personal identity, and love and support within the lgbtq community. i do really lay myself bare here so id like to ask that if you disagree or have criticism you do so respectfully and with that in mind, thank you <3 and if this means something to you itd mean the world to me if you shared it
dunno if ive said this here before but like. if you think you might be bi/pan but youre on the fence cos maybe youve never had a crush on a nonfictional guy or get more crushes on guys than on girls and you find yourself tied up in knots like "well im gay but im also attracted to nonbinary people unless theyre mostly woman-aligned but i dont wanna say im bi/pan because then people will think i like girls and like i like them theoretically but--" let go. just say fuck it! im bi/pan! 
try it out and if it doesnt feel right it doesnt feel right and thats fine and in the end no matter what youll have learned a little about yourself. this is actually my advice on any gender/sexuality dilemmas you might be having. go wild. try it out. see how it feels. dont feel like you have to confine yourself to something just because youve stuck with it for some amount of time. 
if youre questioning dive right into the deep end! no matter how it goes youll be a better swimmer in the end. its all not quite rigid and a little fluid anyways (for some more than others obv) so if youre unsure, man... go for it. its ok to backpedal
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this is important advice to me because ive struggled with it multiple times in the past and this has only recently clicked and i really wish it had sooner. first it was with being... not straight in general. like i was actively dating someone of the same gender and i never considered that that meant, uh, im not straight. always "do you like boys or girl?" "uhhhhhhhhh. uh. UH" 
then with being in the range of aro/ace spect. then with being nonbinary! then with being nb but primarily male. and then goddammit im just a boy. accepting that God I Love Men And Only Men (and with it that i *wasnt* aro or ace in ANY capacity) and then, very recently (like up until a couple months ago. like im p sure this year. not 2017), going back on that and admitting i was bi. it is so so freeing to just say "fuck it" and test those waters!
hell, you find something you resonate with but looks a little silly? go for it! use those bun/buns/bunself pronouns. go with stargender! ace-flux demibiromantic? hell yeah rock that shit! it can always change and you can always decide its not right and go back! h4y dudes
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all of that especially goes for teens who dont know what the fuck theyre doing. im only 20 yea and barely 20 at that but man i wish id heard this sooner
and please dont take that as me saying "well if youre a lesbian sexuality is fluid and maybe youre actually bi"! hell no. if youre a lesbian and you KNOW youre and lesbian and couldnt ever be anything else then rock on you funky little lesbian! but if you id as a lesbian but are teetering on something like "well im attracted to some fictional and theoretical men but not any real ones and maybe its just compulsory heterosexuality but im not sure and--" dont be afraid to try a different label. its all what feels right to you and theres absolutely no harm
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people bash on like. """mogai genders""" and nounself pronouns and the split attraction model and all that and like. yeah! those things can hurt people! personally i struggled with the split attraction bit combined with how broadly people define the ace spectrum. it can be used to hurt. and it is used to hurt. sometimes its deliberate, sometimes its not. but the hurt is there. but its not inherently good or bad. 
and yeah, some of it sounds silly. hell, it sounds silly to me sometimes! but to some people hearing that label makes everything click into place, even if just for a little bit, and i take that very seriously. it is one of the best feelings in the world and i want as many lgbtq people (of any age) to experience it. 
for some people it feels right to zoom waaaaaaay in and section it into lots of little bits and for others its "fuck it! i dont know shit! im just queer!" and those are both equally valid (that words been thru 12 garbage disposals but i cant think of a better one) maybe you go back n forth and thats fine too! as long as youre open to it changing or being wrong it cant hurt and, like i said, its one of the best possible feelings to have it click like that
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as an aside: being bi can *totally* mean "im attracted to men and nonbinary people are long are they arent primarily woman-aligned" or it can mean "im attracted to everyone fuck it" personally? i use bi over pan because i feel like it better encapsulates that i *do* have preferences (i say this all the time but God I Love Men) but ultimately gender doesnt really matter to me cos everyones cute and hot and generally attractive and im not leaving anyone out because im just a little more inclined to kissing boys. but thats me!
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as Another aside: i do still to some degree identify with uhh this is gonna sound contradictory but agender boy? or more like boy agender? boygender with left none? i just dont personally feel like its worth taking the time to explain over n over. but it used to be, for me, n i dont regret that a single bit! i wouldnt regret that even if i *didnt* still feel that way in any capacity. honestly? 
i dont regret any of the ways ive identified in the past even though feeling stuck and cornered into some got a little harmful to me (and if youve gone through somethin similar and DO regret it and wish youd never heard whatever term you used thats good too. im very strongly advocating for "use whatever labels you want and if it dont fit it dont fit" here but if they did hurt you and youre still hurting about it i understand 100% just dont use it to pull others down. if it concerns you say your piece and let them decide)
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this is personally a little hard to admit so bear with me here 
honestly? ANY sort of strong identity didnt start developing in me until i was.... 14 or so? and very slowly at that. like gender evened out around 18 and sexuality just a few months ago LMAO. but up until i was a teenager i didnt really feel much of anything re: gender or attraction (and the attraction thing is pretty normal for kids and even teens tbqh!) 
and i just.... didnt really think about it! i had This Name and apparently was a girl and i didnt really get what it was like to BE a girl but thats what people said and i didnt know there were other options so i went with it! the name didnt bother me either (except for when people made jokes about a Certain Historical Figure with the same one. just thinking about that i get tired) 
and when it came time to actually grapple with the whole concept of being *into* people i just kinda... slunk away! no joke until like 10th grade if someone started a rumor that i was dating x or y had a crush on me i would start to avoid them entirely. lost a friend in 4th grade that way but then in hs hed turned into a TOTAL DICK so no loss there. i think part of that was also people making the assumption that i was straight though? big shrug! 
i didnt even realize attraction was a thing i had until i got asked out and just kind of "oh wow??? that sounds so nice??? i feel the same??? yes??" and thats WHY i went thru varying aro/ace labels. cos it unfolded slowly (which again is totally normal if youre a teenager, so dont worry about it if youre going thru that. roll with the punches. and if youre a teen and youve got it figured out? thats totally normal too!) 
and the gender thing was similar once i learned that it was an actual possibility (especially being nb, and ESPECIALLY especially being agender) i slowly just... poked at it until i figured something out (fun fact: what set me off to finally go "fuck it im not a girl at all" was being stuck in an awful hair salon chair while my mom got a haircut that took FOREVERRRRRRRRR and i was having godawful period cramps. like i knew not being a girl wouldnt DO anything about them but i made that decision then n there n didnt look back!) 
and then i kept pokin at it and watching it like the seed id planted finally started to sprout and i realized i didnt actually know what kind of seed it WAS. i guess ive always been very nebulous in those aspects and its just now forming into something solid. like i said, its a little hard to admit and i... dont think ive actually talked about this in this depth before to, like, anyone? 
because the "oh ive always known" narrative is the only one you ever see in popular media and sometimes even from the community itself! and theres nothing wrong with having always known! but theres also nothing wrong with being like me! but i still feel a little anxious talking about it like it somehow means im a sham. 
hell, id even go so far as to say i WAS a girl as a kid! i WAS varying shades of agender and nonbinary and ???? as a teen, and i AM, like, 95% a guy right now! maybe in a few years ill be something else. none of those things contradict each other. things like that can change! its not set in stone (but like i said: for some people it is! or, like, set in slime that you left out for 5 years so now its pretty much a rock but if you really try it still squishes into something else?? none of these things invalidate the others! were all unique). 
i wouldnt say that at any point ive been cis or straight, cos even when i just went with being a girl and stuff it was always a little ??? but, yknow. even if i HAD been those things at some point it wouldnt matter to me? things just are the way they are and were the way they were
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im making myself really vulnerable here and my thought process is a mess and i ramble and repeat myself and my memory and attention span is like 2 seconds and i dont proofread but. its important i think. i dont have a lot of followers and fewer still thatre active but... that really doesnt matter. 
maybe someone will retweet at least one of these messy, messy threads. maybe link it to a friend. maybe screenshot it and post it on tumblr [note: LMAO YEAH AND ITS YOU DUMBASS], or to keep for themself. if any of my words help anyone out even a little then it matters and honestly? then its the most important thing in the whole danged world. if even one person sees any of the things ive said tonight and it means *anything* to them, even if just "oh, im not alone in this" then ive succeeded here. 
i dont want any of us to ever feel trapped or alone because shit! lifes too fuckin short for that! its goddamn hard being anything but cisgender and straight! sometimes it sucks! like really sucks! there have been so many times ive broken down completely over being trans and felt like, for myself, its the most awful thing in the world. its why prides so important. its why community is so important. 
because even when the pressure of the world brings you down so low you think youll never escape theres something or someone there to take your hand and pull you back up, put you on your feet, and say "i know its hard. and itll get hard again. but i believe in you, and youre strong enough for this, and im here with you through every step". that goes for anyone but especially goes for us. and im not just talking about lgbtq youth here. all of us. which is *why* im laying myself completely bare here. 
most of this stuff? ive either never talked about or only vaguely mentioned. but im putting it out there. because there was a point where i needed it but didnt have it, and even if its just one person, i want to give someone this advice so at least they dont have to deal with the same stuff i did. and if youre reading this? i love you. im here for you. im my dms are always open and if for some reason they arent its almost definitely an accident and if you say something ill reopen them. 
and if youre someone who hates me? maybe even mutually? if it came down to it id let you come to me at your lowest moment, no questions asked, no judgement held, and at the end of it still be the same kind of enemies we were before and never speak again. there are some exceptions of course but honestly ill forgive a lot for someone who needs that kind of support. and if youre one of the people this applies to, i know youll probably never take me up on it. i dont expect you to. i dont expect you to even for a second be comfortable with that idea. thats fine. but if for some reason you ever need it, its there. 
i can count on one hand the ex friends that i wouldnt give that to and thats ONLY because theyve legitimately hurt me and left lasting damage (and for some of them? its mutual. and im sorry for that, regardless of how i feel about your treatment of me im truly sorry for my actions. that probably sounds fake and anyway i digress) 
and if youre a complete stranger? someone who follows me but has never interacted with anything ive posted? a mutual i havent spoken to yet? im here. and im bumbling, and awkward, and not the best at comfort but you can always come to me if you need someone. im only one man and im under a lot of stress but i swear ill do the best i can, even if its only reading and replying 3 days later and even then just listening and offer whatever gentle comfort or reassurance youll accept. 
because thats important to me. thats the impact i want to leave on this world. i dont ever want anyone to feel as small, as scared, as worthless, as alone as i have. im no fighter. im not going to lead any revolutions and hell im too anxious to even go to protests but im here for support. im here to help and heal. and thats important too
--
and if you listened to that? thank you. if you just skimmed? thank you for that too. if you shared it with someone? thank you (so much). and if you dont? thank you anyways, just for the time
just know this: i love you. i dont care who you are, if youre reading this i love you and im behind you 100%. im here if you need it. stay strong, do something that makes you smile if only for a moment. take that leap of faith. dont restrict yourself for even a second
i meant to go to bed at least two hours ago so goodnight <3 be safe, drink some water, if you have any kind of pet give it some love. take care of yourself. youre the most important person in your own world and never forget that, even if you dont think you are. even if theres something or someone you treasure above everything else. dont diminish your own worth! you are alive, and you are here, and theres nothing more important than that, really. the things you love matter more than anything else. hold them close
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hazlouquitefinished · 6 years
Text
Another SJPR Case Study: Louis and Niall
As most of you know, Louis and Niall are both clients of SJPR. In this post, I’d like to examine the disparities between their experiences with SJPR, mostly with regards to the SJPR official site and twitter. @theyrereallyawful made a great couple of posts that inspired me to look deeper into this arena of thought. Check em out if you haven’t already.
Before you read this, please check out my earlier post in this tag for a recap of Niall and Louis’ actual SJPR promo. That post discusses the way their promo was actually carried out. There’s a conclusion section at the very bottom for a TL;DR if you need it. 
In this post, I want to point out the obvious disparities between SJPR’s treatment of Niall and their treatment of Louis. I think most would agree that Niall has the best promo out of all the guys, and Louis has the worst. That’s not necessarily saying that SJPR is the one that’s doing Niall’s positive promoting, but they’re also not actively going against Niall either.
I’m going to be repeating/enforcing a lot of what we already know in this post - it just clarifies that the incompetence that SJPR displays with Louis is willful ignorance at best, and sabotage at worst. SJPR is fully capable of treating their clients the way they should be treated... they just don’t do that with Louis.
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I want to clarify quickly that I absolutely adore Niall and am so happy that at least one of the guys is getting the type of promo they all deserve. If I sound angry when I talk about his SJPR promo, it’s because I’m frustrated that Louis doesn’t receive that same kind of treatment. 
Also want to make a disclaimer by quoting from my previous post about this stuff:
I get that this isn’t the most earth-shattering information, but I think it speaks volumes if you listen.
Think about it: if SJPR isn’t even willing to put effort into news articles about arguably their biggest client, then how much effort are they going to put into the actual PR SJPR provides?
Disclaimers aside -- 
Let’s start out with the most basic part of the SJPR official site: their artist profiles. 
Section I: SJPR Profiles
It’s impossible to be biased there, right? A profile is a profile, isn’t it?
Here’s Niall’s:
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As you can hopefully kind of see (sorry for the zoomed out screenshot), his profile is fairly nice. It’s decently long, contains all of his SM links, and discusses his accomplishments. It even has a quote from Rolling Stone!
Now let’s look at Louis’ profile.
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It’s noticeably much shorter - no SM links are included, and there’s only a single line about BTY’s success. 
Okay, so that’s not great - but surely things even out later, right?
Section II: First Single
Now, let’s look at the first solo singles - for the sake of this post, I’ll refer to BTY as Louis’ “first” single, since it was the first one he released under the new official SJPR agreement.
Starting with This Town: as you will have seen in the other post I made, Niall officially signed with SJPR again on the day of This Town’s release. 
SJ tweeted about the single the day that it was released. He continued to tweet about the track (and about Niall stuff in general) for the duration of late 2016.
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A nice article about This Town was also posted on the official SJPR site on the day of the release.
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The article was on time, contained all of Niall’s SM links, and was informative. That should be standard, shouldn’t it?
Moving on to BTY.
Louis was listed as a client on SJPR’s site on January 7, 2017. Radio silence from SJPR. He didn’t tweet about him at all - the only thing he did, days later, was reply to a SYCO tweet about him with a fucking emoji. 
Fast forward a few months to June, when Louis officially announced BTY.
SJPR didn’t post about it on the site until almost a full week after it was announced.
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In comparison to Niall’s first single article, Louis gets one that’s late, is shorter, and has no SM links provided. 
Section III: Second Singles and Beyond
For Slow Hands, SJPR is again on the ball. 
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The article is on time, lengthy, and has all of Niall’s SM included.
Louis, as usual, is not so lucky.
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The article is at least on time for once, but I strongly suspect that’s only because of the then-upcoming XF performance. It’s short - bare minimum - and contains no SM links.
For Niall’s album release, SJPR posts this: 
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A really nicely done roundup article, all about their client’s success. It again features Niall’s SM links at the bottom.
On Twitter, SJ is all over the Niall album release season - tweeting countdowns, posting about interviews, etc.
For JLY, the official site managed this:
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Bare minimum information, no SM links, no additional article when the video dropped.
And on Twitter? Image_Not_Found.jpeg, because he didn’t post a single thing about the track. I have my own reasons for why I think they were so hush-hush about that song in particular, and I’m sure many of you think the same way.
Section IV: Crisis Management 
One of SJPR’s listed services is crisis management. We’ve only ever really seen it one time for Niall - namely because you’re not supposed to be able to see it.
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And yet, you ask, where was SJPR’s crisis management when Louis’ arrest stuff was happening? 
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No image available indeed. SJPR allowed - and continues to allow - hundreds (if not thousands) of negative articles about the arrest to circulate. That sure doesn’t seem like crisis management to me. 
Section V: Comparison
Just for comparison’s sake, here’s a quick bit about SJ’s other acts. His current priority appears to be ol’ PrettyMuch. His Twitter is full of their promo, and the most recent news article is about them.
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As you can see, their SM links are provided.
In the past, SJPR went hard for an artist called Raye. During Niall’s album release, his tweets were split 50:50 between Raye and Niall. Bit odd, considering she wasn’t doing much at the time, and Niall was just about to release his first major solo project.
Here’s her profile on the official site:
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It’s like a fuckin’ book, right? 10 times longer than Louis or Niall’s profiles. 
And here’s one of their recent news articles, about client Tom Fletcher. I can’t even fit all of it in one screenshot - I had to zoom way out to get most of it in the frame. 
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It’s very long and involved, and SM links are of course provided.
Conclusion:
If you checked out the beginning part of my other post about SJPR, you’ll probably have a little deja vu. Back before hiatus, 1D was treated sort of like Louis is being treated now - they got very little official SJPR attention, and their UK press ran wild under his management. I don’t know that they were being actively sabotaged, but it was very bare minimum involvement. 
Niall clearly receives more SJPR attention than Louis. His SM links are always provided, his articles are always on time, and SJ tweets about him regularly
SJ’s crisis management appears to be nonfunctional when it comes to Louis, though he was able to get Niall out of a potentially sticky situation at one point
While SJPR treats Niall better than Louis, they treat their other clients even better than the both of them. PM, Raye, Tom Fletcher - they all have more involvement. If you read my other post, compare this to how SJPR treated 1D versus how they treated Ant & Dec or All Saints. 
Overall: SJPR is capable of treating their clients professionally and respectfully. They prove, again and again, that they simply don’t do that when it comes to Louis. Not even on their official site, where it would perhaps be easiest to make things equal for all of their clients. They go above and beyond for non-Louis clients, but they leave him in the dirt over and over. 
For finishing this post, you get another happy Louis! Yay! As I said in my last post - I’m really just doing this for my own thought process and out of my own genuine interest/curiosity, so i’ll be surprised if anyone gets to the end, hahaha
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If you’re angry - like many of us are - then I encourage you to (respectfully & kindly) tweet the link to LTHQOfficial.com to SJPR and co. It can’t hurt to show them that we have a successful fansite, and it makes me happy to know that his notifs are flooded with fans who promote his client far more effectively than he does.
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the world is such an unfair place.
there are so many good people here who don’t deserve this.
so here
i painted my room, it’s yellow now. i put vines up in my room, along with my harry styles poster. i lost a lot of friends, but i’ve strengthened the ones i really care about. leila, abriella, alicia, mason, hailey. i’m not dating alicia by the way, not in any universe. but i did ask her if she would marry me so the adoption process would be easier, so i could be a single mother and raise kids all of my own and be able to do something with all of this knowledge in my head. i don’t think i’d like to get married. i think it’s not as sacred in my mind as it was, or at least supposed to be. i got an 80 on my drivers ed test so i barely passed even though i passed out studying with mason. i’ve started to save up for my 2017 subaru outback. do you know what i would do to hear you say the words it’s alright to my face. and to hold me, not as my lover, not as my best friend. but just as a person who once knew me. it took me two months to wash the clothes you gave back and even touch them. can you believe it’s been two months since this all started to break with us? i can’t get rid of the scream dvd. it’s on my floor but it’s in my room nonetheless. but i do need to switch schools. because i can’t run into a bathroom and cry everytime i see you two in the hallways. i can’t let it stop my education. i can’t walk through the hallways and look at all of the places that used to be ours. i just can’t. it hurts way too much and i don’t think it will ever go away, unfortunately. i’ve wanted to call you, but my mom won’t let me obviously. this psych ward wasn’t as fun as the last one, not to mention being in the hospital for 9 days to get medically cleared. (MILD TW) i had to deal with having IV’s in my hand and arm because i don’t like needles. it actually ripped at one part and i freaked out while still high because there was just a bunch of blood dripping down my arm. it scared the shit out of me. i watched a lot of cooking shows while in the hospital. i also became obsessed with american horror story, like a genuine unhealthy obsession. but that’s irrelevant. i got yelled at for crying on the phone while writing this by mason because i’m not allowed to cry. so it’s officially illegal to cry. i had to call him and explain why i needed him to sit in the bathroom with me while i was trying not to puke. he doesn’t like you very much, but he understands that he can’t talk shit on you. all of my friends respect that. i called alicia in the bathroom by the way, she calmed me down the best she could. i went home and laid in bed watching ahs instead of school. i couldn’t go to class and ik you would yell at me for that but i couldn’t. i would love to hear what you want to tell me. i want to hear about how happy you are. i want to talk to you. and i’ll take you up on that call.
you were my best friend before my ex. and because of that, i’ll post a monthly update on the 21st every month.
<3 Abby
also go find my wattpad lmao for not sad shit jesus
fallenstarchild
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paradisobound · 6 years
Text
Piecing Together My Mind
Written for the Reverse Big Bang 2017!
Summary: When Dan is the victim of a terrible car accident, he suffers unbelievable trauma to his brain. As a result, only a few doctors in the world can perform the operation that is needed for him to recover: one the doctors being Phil Lester from America. Through the surgery and his recovery, Phil is there for him every step of the way, leading them into a spiral of love no one can predict, which eventually gains attention and popularity through a book written by Dan. 
Artist: @audaw
Beta: @carditawrites
Rating: Mature (for the themes involved)
Warnings: hospital settings, car accident, surgery
Word Count: 10,763
Authors Note: When I first began to write this fic, it came really easily and I was so happy with it. The car accident depicted was actually based upon my own car accident, just more dramatically, because I felt like I needed to vent it out and this fic was perfect for it. Through the process of writing, I went from nearly finishing it in one sitting to not touching it for months, and then finishing it all in one sitting. And it’s been a ride lol. But I seriously wouldn’t be able to do it without the help of my awesome beta @carditawrites because she literally helped give me so much inspiration for this! I really hope you all enjoy it as well! Happy reading! :) 
  In hindsight, Dan should have stayed home. He shouldn’t have attempted to get into his car and drive off in the severe downpour that was washing away the streets. He should have just waited until it stopped. But at the time, he thought the rain was going to stop and he would be able to make it to his parent’s house.
His mind was already clouded with dark afterthoughts and his eyes were blurry with unshed tears as the thought of the break up plagued his head. Maybe if Damien had just waited a few more hours, he wouldn’t have felt so inclined to travel back to his parents’ home in a complete downpour.
Dan could barely see the road in front of him, his headlights not making much of a leeway in this darkness. The glare from the lines on the road weren’t helping his already blurred eyes. Maybe he should have just pulled off and wait until the rain lets up. There wasn’t even a way that he could continue to drive in this.
But his mind told him that he was going to fine and the weather was going to change. The rain was going to stop soon and he would run out of it. So he powered on, his fists gripping the steering wheel tightly to the point where his knuckles were white; his foot moving over the gas pedal and then to the break when he needed to slow down.
He didn’t even know how long he had been driving now. It had been at least an hour. Maybe he wasn’t even going in the right direction. To be fair, he couldn’t tell. His windshield wipers were going as fast as they could and they still weren’t fast enough. They were beating away the rain that Dan just willed to stop so he could get to the safe haven of his parents. He craved their attention in ways that he couldn’t nearly describe. All he wanted to do was cry to them about how much he loved Damien and how heart broken he was.
The slip… he felt it within the first couple seconds. The tires on the car were fighting to pass through the water that was on the road. Dan’s foot found the break and he pressed it, willing his car to slow down but it wasn’t working. The back of his car had a mind of it’s own, swinging out right and he heard the noise. Metal on metal in a collision that will forever haunt Dan’s mind.
He didn’t remember what happened after that. Maybe a couple of turns and possibly some more colliding. All he knew was that the airbags deployed, leaving his flesh with black and blue marks that would later sting when he took a breath.
For the first few moments after the accident, Dan was conscious enough to realize the severity of it all. His car was upside down somewhere and his head burned with pain. His limbs felt tired and exhausted and he knew he needed to get out, call for help and pray that someone would come by and see him.
He went to move when his arm felt like it was grinding against shard glass. He cried out, trying his best to just escape but he knew he wasn’t going to do this by himself. He needed to get help.
His arm was moving to the passenger seat for his phone when he heard the first siren come. It was far enough away where the sound didn’t hurt his ears but close enough that he knew he was going to get help.
But he didn’t get to see the police officers and ambulance arrive, because his sight went black just moments before and his body fell limp.
The distant beeping was what pulled him from the void that clouded his mind. He opened his eyes and then immediately closed them when white fluorescent lights filled his vision. It was too bright in there: he needed it to be darker.
His body had other plans though, and his eyes reopened. It took a moment to adjust before he processed where he even was. Was he dead? Was this heaven? Was that why he was suddenly being blinded by the light? He was no believer in God but maybe after this, he would be.
After a moment of adjustment, he was able to come to his senses and realize that he was in an all white room. Cords littered the floors as they led out of his body in various places. The distant beeping wasn’t a weird noise that he was just hearing; it was his heart monitor.
His eyes hurt to adjust but quickly a pair of blue scrubs came into view and he opened them wider to see who was in front of him. A perky blonde in all blue scrubs was stood at his bedside, a clipboard in hand and stethoscope around her neck. “Good morning, Mr. Howell. We’re extremely happy to see you’re awake!”
Dan turned his head and whimpered at the ache of pain in his neck. His muscles felt stiff and unmoved, his mouth felt like cotton and as he opened it to ask for pain meds, he realized he wanted water a lot more. “Wa—wat—water,” he croaked out.
The nurse quickly moved around the bed and came back with a clear cup filled with the cool liquid. She handed it to Dan, who reached up to grab it when he realized he couldn’t move his arm very fell. Maybe it was the stiff muscles, but it took some shaky movements to get to the cup where the nurse helped him ingest the refreshing liquid.
When the cup was empty, the nurse moved it back to the side before looking him over. “How is your pain, Mr. Howell?”
“H-hurts,” he croaked out, his head now pounding and his lower body radiating pain. He didn’t know if it was from the movements he was doing now after being dormant for so long or from the accident…
The accident. The memory suddenly flooded his head. He had gotten into a car accident: he knew that much, but he couldn’t remember what happened or what had caused it.
“Well, we can't have you be in pain, can we?” the blonde stated as she picked up a syringe and injected the liquid medication into his IV. The long tube was connected to an area in his arm, scaring him slightly, but he looked like a machine being fed by wires.
Nearly instantly, his pain began to lesson and he relaxed into the bed, noting the terrible quality of the mattress he was lying on. “Do you know what happened, Dan?”
The sudden use of his first name made him turn his head a lot quicker than he should have. He groaned inwardly to himself at the movement and willed his muscles to relax to ease the pain. “No,” he finally said softly, his voice hoarse and raspy.
“Well, I’ll wait for the doctor to tell you then,” she said sympathetically. “You were conscious for the first few minutes in the hospital and I didn’t know if you were aware then?”
Dan shook his head softly, leaning back into the bed and shutting his eyes. Just this simple conversation was using all of his energy. He felt drained and ready to sleep all over again. He just wanted to relax further.
“You’re welcome to relax, Dan,” she said gently. “The doctor is now aware that you are awake and he’ll be wanting to speak with you soon, okay?”
Dan wanted to nod, but instead he let go of a shallow breath and shut his eyes. He let the nurse continue her routine vital checks as he felt poked and prodded all over again. She checked his breathing, his blood pressure, his IV drip, and a bit more that Dan couldn’t tell.
It wasn’t long after she was finished that he heard a soft knock against the door and the creak of it opening. He opened his eyes long enough to notice a tall middle aged man with a white coat enter his room. This had to be the doctor. His grey hair and glasses gave way that he was an experienced man and Dan didn’t know if that made him feel better or not.
“Are you finished, Louise?” the male boomed out in a deep voice.
The nurse, called Louise, nodded her head before exiting the room and taking the cart of equipment with her in the process. Meanwhile, the doctor was now pulling up a seat next to Dan’s bed, which scared Dan because this had to be obviously serious. There would be no other reason for the doctor to be sitting, other than telling him bad news. Maybe he was going to die after all.
The thought scared him more than the idea of being hurt.
“How are you feeling, Dan?”
Dan felt the urge to shrug his shoulders, but he didn’t know if he was able to do that action so he just replied, “Okay,” instead.
“Well, that’s good,” The doctor noted. “My name is Dr. Meny and I was your surgeon last night.”
Surgeon. Dan knew that wasn’t good. He had gone through surgery and never even known it.
“You see,” Dr. Meny continued. “If you cannot remember, you were the victim of a very serious car crash. You were brought to me at the emergency room last night, and had appeared fine. However, after just a few minutes within the ER, you began to fall into a seizure. Unknowing what could have caused this, we notified your next of kin - your parents - and they told us you had no history of seizures. Confused, we performed a CT Scan of the brain and noticed that you have swelling, which is what we call cerebral edema, or excess fluid within the walls of the brain cells. Now, noting this, our next priority was decreasing the pressure as much as possible because if there is a lot of pressure inside the skull, blood will not flow to that section of the brain and therefore, it can lead to very serious health conditions. This includes seizures, strokes, and even death.” He paused for a moment.
Dan took the time to process what he was hearing and a single tear escaped down his cheek as he thought the worst. He was going to die and this was the doctor telling him that he only had a short time to live. He knew it. Reaching a hand up, he felt the bandage around his head that he had never felt before. He moved his hand back down and allowed for the doctor to speak to him more.
“Now, do not think that this isn’t treatable,” Dr. Meny said reassuringly. “This can be treatable and that is why we operated last night in an emergency surgery. We went in and tried to relieve the pressure by removing some of the extra fluid because, you see, when the accident occurred, you did damage to your head. And I'm sure you probably are feeling the symptoms of it, like memory loss.” Dan nodded slowly, because he was experiencing that.“But the surgery was unsuccessful. We were not able to remove that fluid.”
“So what does that mean?” Dan asked just as soon as the doctor's words were finished. “Why wasn’t it able to fixed if it’s treatable?”
“Well, here is the thing,” The doctor began, “We think that there is something further inside of the brain that isn’t allowing for the swelling to go down. We think there is some trauma further down that we are not seeing. Since we are not specialists on the brain, we can only do so much.”
“But what can I do?” Dan pleaded. “What options are there for me?”
The doctor pulled out a notebook from his jacket pocket and flipped open the cover, “In the time that you have been recovering, we have found three surgeons in the world that are able to work inside the brain in a precise way that will not damage the brain. We have contacted all of them and two have responded,” he pulled out a pen and wrote some things on his notepad. “However, until we can find out which one will be willing to take on your case, we are obligated not to disclose their information.”
Dan seethed inside of his head. Why couldn’t he know who would be opening his head up and drilling into his brain? Wasn’t he important enough to find out?
“When will we find out?”
“Well,” Dr. Meny began. “We heard back from one of the two doctors, this one being from America, who is willing to fly out and consult you to do the surgery. However, we have not heard back from the other doctor—”
“I want the first one,” Dan spat out. “I want the one that is willing to fly from America to here to do my procedure.”
“Are you sure?” Dr. Meny asked, scribbling something else on his notepad.
“Yes,” Dan spoke out. “I want them to do the procedure because they’re clearly willing to fly over here to see me, so they deserve to operate on me.”
“But this needs careful—”
“Why?” Dan asked in a spiteful manner. “Why would I need to be careful about this? My brain is swelled. Remember, you told me so. This could mean so much and…” Dan felt his voice get choked up. “I want to be able to have a doctor who wants to do the procedure for me instead of doing it for the money. That’s all.”
“Dan, I just want to reiterate that—”
“I know,” Dan interrupted, “I want that doctor.”
Dr. Meny sighed and wrote something more on his notepad before standing up from his sitting position, “I will have my secretary contact the doctor and we’ll go from there.”
“Am I able to know the doctors name now?” Dan asked, relaxing into the bed as a strong headache began to form in the back of his skull.
“His name is Dr. Philip Lester and he’s a prized Neurosurgeon from Los Angeles.”
Dan nodded, half listening to the words as the pain in his head began to radiate towards his eyes and his vision clouded. Groaning in discomfort, he squeezed his eyes shut and gripped onto the blankets of his hospital bed with white knuckles as he willed for the pain meds to take over and take away this God-awful pain.
His wish was soon granted as he slipped into a black void as his body refused to fight the pain.
They had him Skype with Dr. Lester that afternoon, following the arrival of Dan’s parents who were worried sick over their son. Dr. Meny had reassured Dan multiple times that he was going to be okay and that he could do all normal, everyday things but he just had to be wary of his head and hitting it on surfaces too hard. For instance, like Dr. Lester later explained, lying down in bed or on a couch too fast.
But that still didn’t help his worry.
With his laptop sat on the conveniently placed table, he Skyped with this Philip Lester and felt his worries simultaneously diminish and also increase. On the screen, Dr. Lester appeared to be extremely professional as he spoke to Dan in the comfort of his office. The time difference was very clear but that didn’t seem to affect Dr. Lester at all.
Dr. Lester explained to Dan that his life was not going to be affected at all if he can help it. In fact, he had already booked a flight straight to the UK to see Dan the following day which Dan thought was extremely generous. He’d never heard of a doctor doing this before but in all honesty, he liked that.
The Skype call didn’t last long, because Dr. Lester told him that he was going to consult with him tomorrow more about what he can do to help Dan out. In the meantime, Dan was just worried about something else happening to alter his already swelled mind.
This worry was aggravated since earlier in the day, just as Dr. Meny was about to leave, Dan fell into another seizure that he had to be brought out of. He came out exhausted and ready to collapse. He couldn’t remember that it happened, but he had a sinking feeling that it had occurred.
Once Dan was alone with his parents again, they questioned him about Damien. But Dan didn’t even know who Damien was. Apparently, Damien was Dan’s boyfriend., but Dan couldn’t remember him. He didn’t even know of anyone named Damien.
A picture was showed to him from his nearly destroyed mobile phone which confirmed to him that he, in fact, did know a Damien and he was somehow involved with Dan. Another quick look at his text messages proved that whatever he had with Damien had fizzled out because of another person named “Becky”.
“Are you sure that you don’t remember him, Dan?” Dan’s father stated in a helpful manner as he sat at Dan’s bedside.
Dan shook his head as slowly and carefully as possible because no, he did not remember him. Frankly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. It had to be a blessing that his short term memory was altered so he couldn’t remember Damien and anything he did.
“Well, I guess that’s okay,” Dan’s mother piped in, “Right, John?”
Dan’s father nodded before reaching out and taking Dan’s hand in his own, squeezing his palm gently. Dan looked down at their clasped hands and smiled. He will be forever grateful for the love and support he received from his parents all this time.
“So the doctor comes in tomorrow, yeah?”
“Yes, he should be here in the morning.”
“But when will the surgery be?”
Dan shrugged his shoulders carefully. “Hopefully soon,” he said. “I don’t want any more damage to be done and I want whatever damage I do have to be fixed.”
“We know, Daniel,” his mother added. “But we’re very scared right now.” Tears glistened in her eyes.
Dan tried to fake a smile to tell her that he was okay but it faltered and tears cascaded down his cheeks like a stream. He wasn’t sure if he was ever going to be okay. He always joked about death but now that he was on the verge of death, it was terrifying him. He never got to fulfill his life. He hadn’t done what he was set out to do. If he was to die now, he wouldn’t have a lasting impression on anyone.
He needed to be remembered by something. If he didn’t make a lasting impression, then what did he ever do with his life besides waste it away?
A book.
Dan was going to write a book. But a book on what? He was fighting within himself mentally to the point where he was giving himself another headache. What would he write a book about?
Then the idea hit him.
He would write a book about this. About the car accident and what he remembered; about his fight for life as his brain swelled; about the doctor who was gonna save his life. He was gonna write a memoir. He was already thinking of the ideas for it in his head.
He was going to make a difference. If he survived this battle, he was going to show everyone what he went through: the seizures that he never used to have; the memory loss; everything.
“What are your thoughts right now, Daniel?” His mother asked, placing a hand over his fathers that was still clasped in Dan’s own hand.
“I want to survive this,” Dan stated, with a newfound courage in his voice. “I will survive this. Dr. Lester will help me. He’ll heal me and find the damage that is causing my seizures and pain.”
“Yes, Daniel,” she added. “God is looking over you in ways that we cannot believe.”
Dan had to agree with her words. He was a self-proclaimed Atheist but even he had to admit that this was somewhat of a miracle.
“Why don’t you get some rest, Daniel?” His father said suddenly, reaching behind him and undoing their hands so he could fluff Dan’s pillows, “I think you deserve to sleep for a little bit and rest your eyes.”
Dan had to agree with that as well. He was exhausted in ways that he simply couldn’t describe. His eyelids weighed heavily on his lashes and his mouth fought back a yawn. Shutting his eyes, this time with his own control, he relaxed into the bed and succumbed to the brink of sleep that was overtaking him.
“Dan.” Louise, his nurse, spoke as he carefully chewed away at a piece of toast. “Dr. Lester has just arrived to the hospital and is requesting to see you immediately. Is it okay for him to come in?”
Dan nodded, finishing up his bite of food before brushing the crumbs off from his hands onto the bedding that was surrounding his tired and bruised legs. He saw his body for the first time last night when he used the bathroom. The mirror didn’t lie when it showed him a discolored face with a bruised left side; cuts and scratches that littered his stomach and bruises that littered his chest, and the dark marks that stung on his thighs when he walked. He nearly cried because for the first time in his life, Dan didn’t recognize the man staring back at him in the mirror.
He had one more seizure that night. He woke up briefly before he fell into it, the machines going crazy as this one became the strongest and worst one yet that Dan has experienced. The nurses murmured about him. He heard their talk as they all discussed how Dan needs to be seen. The more seizures he has, the worse his brain would be and the more damage he would have: permanent damage that would change his life forever.
Dan’s parents were waiting in agony to hear about what Dr. Lester has to say. They wanted to stay by Dan’s side but Dan didn’t want them to worry so he sent them to a hotel for the night instead. He was sure that they were probably at the hospital, sitting in the waiting room while they thought Dan was still asleep. And hell, Dan still would be, considering the time was six in the morning but he had to be woken up for vital checks every few hours and they got the best of him last night.
“Yes,” Dan said to Louise, “I’m really eager to see him.”
Nearly a minute later, a soft knock echoed into his room and Dan watched as the door slowly opened. A raven haired man walked through the door with glasses that bridged the top of his nose. When he turned to Dan’s direction, Dan felt all breath leave his body as he stared into his deep blue eyes.
This had to be Dr. Lester.
“Pleasure to finally see you, Dan.,” He spoke with soft, careful words. “I’m sure you already know but incase you don’t, I’m Dr. Lester. It’s great to meet you in person and not over a webcam.”
Dan smiled at him. Not just a small friendly smile but a full big smile because he already felt better with him here. Dr. Lester gave off this presence that significantly made Dan feel better.
Dr. Lester’s hand stretched out to Dan’s and Dan took it in a warm handshake.“Nice to meet you too, Dr. Lester.”
“Oh please!” he said pulling up a seat next to Dan and taking out a medical chart. “You can call me Phil since I’m going to be seeing more of you than you probably want.”
Dan could have choked. Seriously, if he had been eating, he would have because that crude humor was exactly what Dan liked. He knew instantly he was going to like this guy.
“That came out really wrong,” Phil chuckled like a high schooler. “Oh, what a great first impression I have made. My excuse is that jet lag has gotten the better of me this morning.”
Before Dan could get any words in, Phil interjected again with the medical talk nearly immediately, “I have reviewed your CT scans and can tell already that the doctors here have missed a vital part of what is causing the swelling. From what I have seen, I can tell you are bleeding inside of your brain. The damage suffered is quite extensive and is quite definitely what is causing the seizures. Now, here is the problem: I will need to go into your brain within the next 24 hours because if any more bleeding occurs, life threatening instances will occur, and I don’t want that happening okay?”
Dan nodded slowly, having trouble keeping down his breakfast after hearing Phil’s words. Goosebumps crawled up his skin and prickled at his nerves. His stomach twisted into knots and squeezed as he processed the words that were just spoken to him. The more he thought about the phrase “life threatening instances will occur”, the worse his stomach felt and he temporarily looked around just in case he needed to expel his breakfast somewhere.  
“So what we are going to do, is that I’m going to do a final CT scan on you. What that scan is going to show is what I will be working with here. If your brain is swelled further, it’s going to make my job much more difficult. But do not worry! I will fix the problem,” Phil then leans over the bed, causing Dan to wonder what he’s doing until Phil shows him a graphic template of a brain on an iPad that shows exactly what Phil is going to do. “So here is the plan: you are going to be awake for the entire thing, just sedated. I am going to open up the cranial flap large enough to open the skull and reveal the brain. Once inside, I’m going to carefully relieve the fluid in a determined way so that all the swelling will decrease. Once the swelling goes down, I will go further into the brain and use a clamp to cut off the blood flow wherever you are bleeding. Once the bleeding is done, I’ll cauterize the artery. By the looks of it, the bleeding is coming from just above the cerebral cortex, which is a big deal because if the bleeding doesn't stop, you can go into shock. This can cause anything from paralysis to stroke, to an aneurism to death.” Dan nodded slowly to Phil’s words. “During the procedure, you’re going to be speaking with me. This is how I will know that I haven’t hit anything in the brain that can be life threatening. Do not be afraid, okay, Dan? Everything is going to be fine.”
“I’m really scared,” were the only words that came out of Dan’s mouth.
Phil nodded, pulling the iPad away and setting his belongings on the end of Dan’s bed. He reached out and grabbed Dan’s hand, noting the loss of color within Dan’s skin, and squeezed softly. Dan was shaking slightly, his body feeling fear from the impending operation. What Dan didn’t know was that Phil was nervous too but Phil couldn’t begin to even imagine the fear that must be setting inside of Dan as he spoke. “I know, Dan,” he said sympathetically  but at the same time he knew his words would be helpless. “I’m nervous too because this is the hardest procedure I’ve ever done, but I have full confidence that I’m going to get it. I’m going to heal you.”
Dan took a deep, shuddering breath before nodding and smiling softly at Phil. “I trust you.”
“I know,” Phil reiterated. “Now, I have to go over the risks. Anything done to the brain is a risk in itself. Although it’s never happened to me, one slip could be fatal. Any little slip from me and my scalpel can cause paralysis or death, but that’s not gonna happen.”
Dan nodded and took another deep breath, “So when does this happen?”
“If we can get your CT scan done this morning, I can do the surgery this afternoon.”
“That soon?”
Phil nodded. “The sooner the better.”
Phil’s hand released from Dan’s long enough for a new nurse to come in and begin prepping Dan’s for his CT Scan. Dan was amazed at the quick work of the doctors and nurses at this hospital, but Phil quickly mentioned that he put the order in as soon as he arrived this morning. Phil was just as shocked about the quick work.
Dan was wheeled to the nuclear imaging center of the hospital where he was shifted from his bed to another much less padded and much colder gurney. He was instructed to lay flat as they adjusted the lead protective shields around him. He’d groan and whimper if a nurse was too rough with him. Moments later, a loud voice boomed through the speaker next to him that caused him to relax: it was Phil.
“We’re about to start the scan now,” Phil said. “We’re going to move you inside of the camera now where you will be scanned. The test should go by fast and I’ll be here to speak with you the entire time.”
The bed underneath him suddenly shifted and he looked to see that he was moving forward into this cylinder that reminded him of a coffin. He felt like everything was closing in on him and he gripped the sheets under him, claustrophobia setting in.
“Dan,” Phil’s voice spoke out to him. “Dan? Can you calm down for us? Your heart rate and brain activity have suddenly spiked.”
“I’m sorry,” Dan spoke out, mostly in a whisper.
“It’s okay, Dan,” Phil coaxed. “Everything is going to be okay. I know that it’s hard to believe right now but you’re going to be okay.”
Dan didn’t move but he felt like he needed to relieve the pressure and tension from his shoulder blades. A weight was now sat on them, making him feel even more weighed down than the lead blanket that had given him to protect from radiation.
“Okay, we’re about to start the scan so stay as still as possible, got it?”
Dan didn’t reply. Instead he felt the hair on his body prickle up from the radiation. It made a small shiver go through his spine at the thought of the scan he was going through pumping his body full of toxic chemicals. But to Dan, this definitely isn’t the worst thing to happen right now. The worst thing would be him falling into a seizure on this gurney.
Dan could still feel and hear the buzzing around himself as the scan continued. He didn’t hear anything from Phil over the speaker for a while, until Phil told him the scan was almost over. Just a few moments after that, Dan heard the buzzing stop and he was soon being retracted from the cold metal tube he was just inside.
As Dan was helped back onto the gurney, his head throbbed with pain and he felt the need to reach out and grab onto whatever he could hold. Within moments, his vision blacked and his worst fears came true as he fell into another seizure: right there in the room as Phil ran to his help.
This one was a lot harder to come out of. His body was just so tired of fighting it and he wanted them to just stop completely. When he opened his eyes slowly, Phil was staring at him with concern laced over his face. He reached out, pushing Dan’s fringe away from his eyes and tucked it gently behind his ear. Dan relaxed into the touch, his body still tense and rigid.
“You won’t have this hair for much longer,” Phil said with a gentle smile. “But to be fair, I think you’ll look fine bald.”
“Hmm,” Dan voiced. “I don’t know about that.”
Dan’s words were slurred and showed of exhaustion.
Phil smiled at him. “We’re going to do your surgery in a few hours, okay?” he stated. “But when you keep falling into seizures, it makes it hard for us because we need to ensure you’re not going to have one when you’re being operated on.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Hey,” Phil said, running his hands gently through Dan’s exposed hair. “I know they’re not your fault,” he said. “But do you know when you’re about to fall into one?”
Dan nodded softly. “I get a headache and then my vision blurs.”
“So you’ll be able to tell me if you start feeling one?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s all I need to know,” Phil stated to Dan as he retracted his hand from Dan’s hair. Dan visibly shook from the cold chill he got when the touch was left. He felt like a puppy who just wanted to be petted and have attention. “After your recovery, do you think you would care to join me for lunch?”
Dan opened his eyes a little bit more, even though they were still heavy with exhaustion. “Possibly,” he spoke. “As long as you can guarantee that I’ll still be alive.”
“Then it’s a date.”
Dan smiled to himself, finding himself blushing at the forwardness that Phil was showing to him. He felt good at the presence of Phil. He liked having Phil here: it made him feel safe and secure.
“I need to go and get prepared but I’ll see you in a few hours okay?”
Dan smiled at him. “Okay, Dr. Lester.”
Phil smiled back at him as he stood up from where he was sat and walked towards the door. He gave Dan one last look before exiting the room, leaving Dan shaking like a leaf as the nerves of the surgery kicked in.
The operating room was cold. Dan had asked for a blanket as he sat up on the operating table. A back support for him braced against his spine as he was told he’d be sitting for awhile. According to Phil, the surgery could take anywhere from 2 hours to 8 hours depending on what he found once inside his brain. But regardless of the time it would take, Phil was going to fix him.
He was slowly being sedated with a list of medication that Dan didn’t even know. He was still awake but he was numb everywhere and couldn’t even move his own arm. The idea of being in a temporary paralysis was quite terrifying but the thought of having his brain wide open for Phil was worse.
Per the request of his parent’s, they had the hospital pastor come into his room and say a prayer for him right before he was wheeled away for surgery. Dan had cried hysterically to his mother before he left, telling her he was scared of it. She tried her best to help him out of the fear but when she was fearful herself, it was hard. He had Phil’s reassurance and guidance to help him through this but he was still terrified out of his mind.
Right before Phil was set to enter the operating room, the anesthesiologist come in with a syringe and went to inject the liquid into Dan. “What is that?” he slurred.
“Dr. Lester has requested you be fully sedated for the procedure after all. He is saying that the risks are too high to leave you in a mild sedative.”
Dan felt himself start to panic. He had been told this entire time that Phil would talk with him through the procedure and now he was going to be knocked out. What about if he got knocked out and then never woke back up? He’d be put to sleep quite literally.
He was terrified now. His body shaking even though it was paralyzed and now he was on the verge of tears. “Take two deep breaths, Dan.”
Dan struggled to take in the one when he felt the world around him begin to spin. Just as his vision was blacking out, he watched Phil put his gloves on as he walked into the operating room.
One Week Later
“How are you feeling, Dan?”
Dan sat up straighter in his hospital bed, his head still slightly sore but his body feeling much more recuperate. He eyed Phil up and down as he stepped inside in his typical hospital attire.
“Really good!” Dan finally answered.
“That’s great!” Phil answered, moving forward and sitting down next to Dan at his bedside.
Dan’s surgery had taken nearly six hours. Phil worked until he found every last thing wrong and he fixed every single one. His surgery was a pure success and Phil had never been so proud of the fact that he completed such a dangerous surgery.
It was after the surgery that really showed Phil’s generosity to Dan. Phil was supposed to fly back a few days prior but had decided to stay until Dan was fully recovered. He predicted that within six weeks, Dan’s healing would be nearly complete but six months would be when he saw full change back into normality.
At one week later, Dan was beginning to see the signs that normality was on the horizon. Just one day after the surgery, the nurses had him up and walking around to make sure he hadn’t suffered any onset nerve damage. Phil didn’t think Dan would but he still watched from the sidelines as Dan walked slowly up and down the hallways.
By the second day, Dan was feeling really good. The nurses removed his bandages for the first time and he was able to see the intricate stitch work of Phil that went halfway around his head. He felt a little destress over seeing his hair being gone but Phil had reassured him that he looked fine without.
Phil was Dan’s biggest supporter at that point. Besides his parents, Phil was always there for each small milestone that Dan went through. Everything that Dan did, they did together. Even though Phil was Dan’s doctor, Dan felt like he had a friendship with Phil that was building quite fast.
It was the beginning of Dan’s recovery process. Phil wanted to start him fast so he would learn his skills and memory back fast. Phil talked about sending Dan to a specialist to help but Dan insisted that Phil was fine to help him. So Phil helped him slowly, but he was grateful for every little bit.
They began with basic information., like Dan’s family. So Phil asked Dan questions about his family, like what his mother's name was and his father’s name and if he had any brothers or sisters. The entire time, Dan felt humiliated, because he knew his family. He didn’t see how this was helping him if he already remembered all of this. Dan felt like laughing at Phil, because that for this was a joke for Phil to get his humor up. It turned out not be.
The second test Phil conducted involved an advised trip to the centre of London, where Dan was told to recite the directions to a store. Dan did so easily, even showing Phil little quirks on the streets to prove that he did remember. Pleasantly surprised, Phil decided to test three other locations, and Dan remembered these just as easy. Phil was rather proud. In fact, he was almost sure that they wouldn’t need any more tests. To be sure, he did another one just in case.
The third and final test came in the form of puzzles. Phil hid a single cheerio underneath a cup, and then told Dan to point out which cup the cheerio was under, and Dan failed every time. Phil was dumbfounded as to why Dan wasn’t getting this riddle. So he tried it again. This time, he made Dan follow his line of vision so he could see where the cheerio was going, and that helped Dan a lot. But that still didn’t make Phil happy with the results. He pushed Dan for the rest of the day, trying to get him to help and to learn.
That night, Dan felt something inside of his head. Something that signalled something was wrong. He was already stressed from not doing good on the test earlier that day, so maybe that had something to do with it? Phil was writing something else down in his notes, ready to leave when Dan stopped him. “Don’t leave!” Dan pleaded, “My head doesn’t feel good.”
“What’s going on?” Phil asked, extremely concerned.
“I...I feel like I could have another seizure and I’m scared.”
Phil stood up from where he was sat and walked over to Dan’s bed, sitting down next to him, “You need to relax for one.”
“I can’t,” Dan cried, “I’m stressed!”
“Can I?” Phil asked, and Dan was confused until Phil lifted the blankets off from Dan’s legs and slid underneath, getting close to him, “Scoot into me and just relax.”
Hesitant, but eager to stop the bad feeling, Dan did so. He moved closer and cuddled into him, letting Phil massage his back to soothe him. Soon, Dan had fallen asleep; the bad feeling gone.
In the morning, before Dan was awake, Phil checked him over, running a quick check up on his brain, noticing the activity was normal. He smiled in content, before leaving for his other plan for the morning. He went to the hospital store and picked up a box of chocolate and a bouquet of flowers. When he got back up to the room, Dan was just waking, and surprised to see Phil standing there with his gifts.
“Why did you get me these?” Dan asked.
“Because you had a rough night last night and I want you to feel better.”
And Dan knew in that moment that something new and exciting was brewing between him and Phil.
Dan was filled with nervous energy the day he was released from the hospital. His stitches were nearly healed and dissolved and his hair was growing back the way it should be. He still wore a cap over his head though to cover the lack of hair.
Phil had left with him. Dan was shocked at the fact Phil had cancelled his flight again to stay with Dan for a few more weeks. Dan was ever so grateful for the friendship that Phil has given him: all of the nights Phil had stayed in the hospital beside him, the days Phil had got him food because the hospital food was terrible, and the one special night where Dan felt like he was going into a seizure but Phil held him in his bed to calm him down. All of these led up to the present where Phil was now holding his hand as Dan shakily climbed out of the taxi at his apartment.
Dan couldn’t remember anything about his apartment. If he thought hard enough, which he tried not to do because he was scared of something happening, he could remember little details: like how his bed was against a white wall and how he had a white piano in the corner. All of that was merely just an image to Dan and he didn’t even know if it was something his brain was making up.
“You okay?” Phil asked in a soft voice as Dan stood on both feet, his knees shaking slightly.
“Just a little nervous is’all,” Dan replied making a few steps on the uneven pavement underneath.
The truth was that Dan wasn’t scared of walking or moving, he was just scared of falling. He was terrified of hitting his head on anything and even though Phil has sworn up and down that he’ll be okay, Dan was still nervous.
Phil took a hold of his hand and led him to the stairs of his apartment building. Dan slowly and carefully took the steps one step at a time as he held onto the railing with white knuckles. Looking up in front of him, Dan didn’t recognize the door, but yet he had this familiar feeling in the core of his stomach that told him this was his apartment.
Phil handed Dan the keys that Dan had given him, too scared that he would lose them if he held them himself. With shaking hands, he pressed the key into the doorknob, and twisted, allowing the door to spring open. Immediately, the scent of home flooded his sense and Dan smiled, feeling grateful to not smell disinfectant anymore. Walking through the doorway, the first thing he notices is that there is a TV on in the distance. The slightly static and grainy sound made its way to his ear.
He suddenly tenses.
Who was in his apartment?
He reached behind him and gripped Phil’s hand, walking slowly, “Someone's in here,” Dan mumbled.
Phil looked at him, “Are you sure?”
Dan nodded, “The TV is on. I can hear it.”
Phil took the lead, walking towards the now loud sound that was resonating through the tiny apartment. As they near closer, a pair of legs come into view and Dan’s heart kick starts. He leans closer to Phil, confused and upset about who could have broken into his apartment, especially when he’s been in the hospital?
“Who...who are you?” Dan asked, his voice shaky and unsure, lacking confidence.
The figure suddenly stood up and rushed over to him. Dan cowered, turning into Phil and hiding. The man was large, with broad shoulders and blonde hair. He scared Dan…Dan didn’t even know who he was or why he was here.
“Dan?” The voice boomed, deep and emotion filled, “Baby, is that really you?”
Dan turned his head, feeling his bandages catch a little on Phil’s shirt, but he ignored it and stared at the man, getting a good look at him, “Who are you and why are you calling me baby?”
The man’s eyes widened, a now deep brown that was sucking Dan in, “Dan? Do you not remember me?”
Dan was confused, horribly and terribly confused. He shook his head.
“Dan, I’m Damien...your boyfriend,” Dan felt his heart drop into his stomach, “We had a fight one night and...and you left and then I never heard anything from you. I...I called everyone and everywhere for you and no one knew! I was so scared, baby!”
Something about the man, Damien’s, words bit at Dan in an uncomfortable way. He didn’t like his tone, and he didn’t like what he was saying. Something was resonating deep inside of him, telling him something was terribly wrong.
“From what I know,” Phil suddenly chipped in, long forgotten in the reunion of Damien and Dan, “You broke up with Dan that night.”
That thought clicked in Dan’s head. That sounded about right.
“So why are you still in his apartment?” Phil asked, “And further, why didn’t you try harder to locate your so-called boyfriend as he was lying dying in the hospital?”
Dan swallowed hard, a sudden headache beginning in the back of his head near his neck. He said a silent ‘ow’ and moved his hand to touch the sore spot.
“Dan...come on now, you remember me?” Damien spewed out, “We loved each other. We...we had everything and we…”
“Damien,” Dan finally got out. “I don’t remember you,” he stressed, “And I don’t remember anything that you are saying. But the part that is striking inside of my head is that everything you are saying is a lie. I would really like you gone, now, okay?”
“You can’t kick me out of our apartment, Dan!” Damien cried, “I help pay for this!”
Dan shook his head, “You don’t anymore and I want you go. If you’re not gone, I’m going to call the police.”
Damien’s body tensed, and he backed up away from Dan was shaking and holding tightly onto Phil’s arm for leverage. He didn’t understand where the sudden confidence boost came from but he was glad it was there. He felt a sort of relief over the fact that he stood up to Damien. Maybe that’s what his old self wanted to do all along too.
Damien walked away, stomping over to the living room where he looked reluctant to do anything. But then he was gone, and the sound of various thrown items hitting the floor was heard throughout the apartment.
And Dan felt incredibly okay with this...it was exactly what he needed.
“You’ve had a rough day so what about watching a movie?”
Dan looked up from their dinner that Phil had ordered from a local restaurant just down the road. He was happy to eat something else besides mediocre hospital food. This Pad Thai was much more exciting to eat than grilled chicken that was way overcooked and hard.
“Yeah, that sounds okay with me,” Dan said with a smirk.
Phil was already done eating, and although Dan had a long ways to go, Phil stood up and headed into Dan’s living room and turned on the TV. Dan watched from the corner of his eye to see Phil open Netflix and surf through the movies until he finally found a new TV that Netflix just released, “I know you said that you wanted to watch a movie but what about this show? It’s called Stranger Things and it seems really interesting!”
Dan smiled wider, an unspoken agreement that he was okay to watch the show instead. He finished his food in slow bites before moving into the living room.
Sitting on the couch, there was evident space between him and Phil. He knew that he and Phil had gotten a lot closer than they intended to. For one, it wasn’t a normal occurrence for a doctor to go home with a patient. But Phil had insisted.
He suddenly felt brave. Moving closer to Phil, he scooted until their thighs touched and Dan leaned into him. He carefully rested his head on Phil’s chest, letting himself relax. It was such a small intimate gesture, but one that meant so much to them both at the same time.
They show became forgotten as Dan sat back up, staring Phil in the eyes before leaning in. He didn’t mean to, but he was. And now Phil was leaning in as well. And then their lips were touching, so soft and feather-like against each other.
And then it was all over. The kiss just remained that soft gentle kiss. And Dan smiled. He smiled brightly and Phil smiled back, reaching up and smoothing his thumb over Dan’s cheek, “Spend the night?” Dan asked.
“Okay.”
The day came way before either one wanted it to come. The day of Phil’s flight back to America where he would need to go back to work and see his patients that have been waiting for him for these long months.
But Dan didn’t want him to go. He never wanted him to leave.
They were stood in Dan’s door way, Phil’s hand intertwined in his as they faced each other, “Let’s go get coffee,” Phil said, “Spend one last good time together before I leave.”
The words were bitter and they hurt Dan as he listened. His bandages were gone and his incision on his head was just a scar now, his hair was growing around it and looking nice. But he was scared of never looking the same as he once was.
“I...don’t want you to leave.” Dan said, the words catching in his throat.
“I know,” Phil said sadly, “I don’t want to either. So that’s why we should make the most of our last day together.”
Dan joined him, and they headed to the coffee shop, both of them ignoring the somber feeling in the air around them.
Over the course of the past few weeks, they had developed something. Little kisses here and there and cuddling was in their everyday routine. Phil even stayed majority of his time with Dan in his apartment. But they never said to each other what they were. But it was evident both wanted more.
They sat in silence for a while at the coffee shop before Dan finally spoke, “At least this will give me an excuse to finally visit America.”
A sad look washed over Phil’s face, “Dan…”
“And you can show me around!” Dan spoke up, his voice wavering as he held back tears, “I’ve always wanted to see New York City and you can show me, right?”
Dan broke and began to cry, silent tears ran down his cheeks as he picked up a napkin and furiously wiped them away. Phil began to speak to him, but he didn’t listen as he looked around at the paintings on the walls. He focused on everything but Phil in front of him. He just wanted the memory of Phil and him being happy to replace the one of Phil leaving.
Phil reached across the table and took Dan’s hands in his, pulling him away from his face, the napkin falling on the table, “Dan, look at me.”
Dan refused to look so Phil repeated his words.
Then Dan finally looked.
“I know you’re having a tough time with this and I am too, but just know that everything is gonna be okay,” Phil said softly, “And you’re right, you can come and visit me and we can go visit all of these wonderful places.”
Dan nodded and smiled, tears still softly rolling down his skin, “If you promise?”
“If you don’t forget,” Phil said with a smile. Dan chuckled, they joked occasionally about Dan’s condition, but it was always in good taste and spirits.
The rest of the coffee date went by faster than they would have liked. But it soon came time for Phil to get his things from his hotel room and make sure he had everything packed. Dan offered to come with him but Phil told him to rest.
So Dan reluctantly went back to his apartment, but not without kissing Phil one last time before departing.
Dan was still laying on his bed when his phone chimed. Picking up, he noticed he had a text message from Phil, letting him know he made it to the airport okay. Dan let a few tears fall down his cheeks because deep in his heart, he hoped Phil would knock on his apartment door and tell him he changed his mind, and that he was going to stay with him.
But that knock never came.
He remained in his bed, depression setting in because he wanted so dearly to be with Phil in his apartment. He was nearly ready to fall asleep when a thought rang in his head…he could get to the airport and see Phil one more time before he left!
Jumping up, but not too quickly, he rushed around his room and gathered his belongings, picking his phone back up, he scrolled through his numbers, hoping his old self had a Taxi company in his contacts. He found the contact and called them, telling them he needed an urgent Taxi to the airport. The company told him all the Taxi’s were out already on calls.
Defeated, his next resort was checking out the hours of the tube station nearest to him and what trains were still running to the airport. But he was unpleasantly surprised to see none of them were running right now. He didn’t know what to do. There was nothing he could do. His options were pretty limited here.
He Googled taxi places around him to try and call but nothing came up besides a rental car company down the street. But he wasn’t going to rent a car. He didn’t want to ever drive again! Maybe he wouldn’t have a choice. Driving the car would be his only option.
Closing his eyes, he hit the number on the screen and let it ring. Quickly, someone answered and he told them his situation. They gave him the location of their office and told him they would let him rent a car for 35 pounds for the night. So he left his apartment shaking on wobbly legs as he walked down the street, and took a right, seeing the place just down from him.
He was given a small four-door car to drive, the keys in his hand. He was scared beyond belief but he needed to get to the airport. As it stood right now, he probably wouldn’t even make it before Phil was through security and then he wouldn’t see him.
Dan started the car, his breathing quickening as he struggled to grasp the wheel without feeling like his entire control was slipping like that night in the rain. He slowly pushed his foot on the brake and let out a long breath as he shifted the car into drive, and then he drove.
He actually drove…
His eyes followed the roads, this time they weren’t wet. They were just normal roads. They weren’t standing in his way. They were a gateway between him and the love of his life. And soon, the signs for the airport came into view and he couldn’t believe. He couldn’t believe that he was actually here. He had drove successfully.
The airport was busy tonight, like always. But Dan was glad that he got there when he did, quickly parking before running inside. He didn’t even take note of where he was. He just ran. He ran, not even worried about the jarring of his head as he did so. He had no idea where he was going. He didn’t know what airline Phil was even flying. But his instinct told him where to go. So he followed them, dodging people in the process.
And he soon ended up near the the American Airlines gate. Looking around, he tried his best to see if he could spot Phil, but he knew in his heart it was going to be too late. But much to his surprise…he saw a tall dark haired man, walking in the queue as he neared security, already striping off a black peacoat.
Dan ran over to the line, outside of the velvet rope, “Phil!” He exclaimed.
The man turned and he saw for sure that it was Phil, and his blue eyes bore into his soul. Phil jumped out of the line, hoping over the rope before he swung his arms around Dan and holding him close, “Don’t leave me,” Dan cried, “I can’t be without you, Phil. You need to stay in England with me.”
Phil kissed the side of his head, “Dan, I need to go back, I have patients waiting for me.”
“Then take me with you,” Dan cried, pulling back and looking at Phil, “Let me go back to America with you! We’ll go together!”
“That’s crazy,” Phil said, leaning in a kissing Dan’s forehead delicately, “Your family is here. You deserve to be here.”
“But I want to be with you,” Dan pleaded, “You saved my life. You gave me this new outlook on my life that I almost never had. I owe you my life, Phil.”
“That’s not a reason to pick up everything and leave,” Phil said, reaching up and rubbing Dan’s tear stained cheeks.
“Phil,” Dan paused and hesitated, “I love you. I love you a lot and I don’t want to live knowing you’re not here. Please, let me go with you or stay with me.”
Phil looked at Dan with so much love and admiration that Dan melted, “I love you too Dan, I figured it out the first day I saw you that you were special.”
“Then stay,” Dan whispered, “Or let me go with you.”
Phil nodded and leaned in, kissing Dan soundly in a breathless kiss before pulling back and looking at him, “I’ll stay, Dan, I’ll stay with you.” Phil was crying now. “God, I’m so stupid. We’re so stupid.”
Dan smirked at him, “Then let’s be stupid together.”
Dan wrapped his arms around Phil’s neck and yanked him close, crying tears of joy. He was so happy to hear Phil was going to stay with him. It’s all he ever wanted and now it’s happened.
They shared that special moment in the airport, a crowd gathered around them before they parted and left, in the car that Dan rented.
And Phil could never be more proud of him in that moment.
The clapping was loud, deafening almost. He saw the cameras around him, filming the scene in front of him as his name was announced and he walked out, looking into the studio audience and waving as he sat down on the white couch across from the host of Britain’s new top talk show host.
After that night at the airport, he and Phil sealed their relationship in breathless kisses and whispers. Phil moved his practice to England where he got his new license to practice while Dan worked on his recovery more and more everyday.
Eventually, Dan did exactly what he told himself he would do…and he wrote a book. He wrote a book that became the best selling work of fiction in the US and the UK and Dan was so astonished. His life was turned into such an anomaly that he had producers begging him for the rights to turn his book into a movie. And now he was on a talk show, sharing his life. In this time, he also had created a blog in which he has gained another massive following, but mostly from those who are looking at him as an inspiration to their own brain injuries and ways to get over it.
They called out Phil next, or Dr. Lester, and Phil walked out, waving at the cheering crowd around them. Dan smiled brightly at him, loving the look of his new husband as his ring glittered in the light. They married about six months prior, in a small intimate ceremony with both of their families. But it was perfect, and Dan wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
The entire time at the talk show, Dan laughed and cried slightly along with everyone else as he talked briefly of his experiences. Phil went into some medical talk about the procedure he used to help Dan. And then they even showed some photos of Dan while he was still in the hospital.
By the end of the show, they asked Dan who he wanted to play him in the movie adaption, and Dan jokingly said “Evan Peters”, even though they looked nothing alike. He just loved him as an actor.
The show ended and he and Phil walked off from the stage and back into their room. They grabbed their bags and belongings before leaving and exiting the giant building. Instantly, Dan was bombarded by fans who had copies of his book and were asking for autographs.
Taking it one person in a time, Dan signed as many books as he could before he felt Phil’s hand on his back, telling him they needed to move on. But before they could, Dan spotted a young boy, about the age of six, looking up at him with giant eyes, his head wrapped in a bandage. He looked up at Dan and handed him his book, and Dan bent down, signed the book and asking for his name. The boy didn’t answer but the mom chimed in, “He’s mute. He has a tumor that is affecting his motor skills and he doesn’t speak. But I read to him your story and it’s given him such a positive look on life, even so young. You’re truly an inspiration.”
Dan felt tears brim his eyes as he reached forward and hugged the trembling boy. This was the reason why Dan did what he did. He now had a purpose for his life, one that he couldn’t see prior to the accident. His life was full of meaning that he couldn’t even comprehend.
And that’s all because of one doctor who decided he wanted to take a chance.
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The beginning of the heartless bitch.
What’s more interesting than a love story? ... a heartbreak.
I met this guy, lets call him “Alex”, in late 2014. We pretty much hit it off quickly. He seemed like such a sweet guy, but still sort of a badass. The traits that I was attracted to at that moment in my life. Looking back on it I don’t know what I was attracted to. His personality was very self centered, he wasn’t physically attractive (not that THAT is the most important thing, but), and all around he was immature. The moment I met him I was actively talking to his friend. His friend was everything I wanted (still is now). He was athletic, funny, caring, such a giant sweetheart. I had known him for a year and had a HUGE crush on him ever since the first time I talked to him. We will call him “Brandon”. Now Brandon and I had mutual feelings for each other. I’m not totally sure why we didn’t instantly pursue those feelings. Now I can’t say we never did anything with those feelings. I specifically remember one night staying over at their house until 2am just hanging out on the couch with him watching tv. I still hold onto that moment today as pathetic as that sounds. We even had work the next day at 5am. So once I realized what time it was I headed back to my barracks and proceeded to change into my uniform and gather my gear for our shift.
*Side note* We were all law enforcement in the Army. So for work we would get there an hour and a half early before shift started, put on our gear, drew our weapons, and went over stuff for the day. ***
This story isn’t about Brandon, but about Alex. I can go into more detail about the Brandon situation at a later time. But at this moment. Alex and I were merely just friends. We hung out a little, talked at work, did normal friend things. NOW somehow this guy catches my attention. I honestly don’t know what it was about him. Maybe it was the fact that he gave me the attention that I needed at that moment. But he got it. After that..we hung out everyday. We hung out more and more, and then we started dating. A couple of months went by and I moved into his house with him. Awkwardly enough, Brandon lived there as well. I stopped talking to Brandon (such a REGRET). And Alex somehow talked me into not liking Brandon even as a person anymore. I’m not even sure WHY!? Now after months of dating Alex.. my trust for him was never truly there. When we went out I would consistently catch him staring at other women. I get it, it’s a natural thing to have a wondering eye sometimes....but not every time you go out as a couple. That would irritate the shit out of me. It started to make me feel insecure like maybe I wasn’t good enough. I devoted so much of my time into that relationship that I started to lose myself. Fast forward to a year into the relationship. His birthday to be exact. Now I usually never care to look at a significant others phone, but I had suspicions that him and this one girl were talking. I had heard it from multiple people.. I approached him and asked which he lied and said they never hung out. I believed my friends over him..because why would they lie. So something in me told me to just look at his lock screen. Sure enough. I find a text from that one girl. So fuck its just a simple text. If nothing is going on then why would it matter if I just took a peek (I dont condone this behavior whatsoever now, ive definitely matured since then). Turns out he has been talking to this girl in an intimate way..calling her baby/babe/honey/sweetheart. Things a boyfriend really shouldn't be doing. I approach him and he threatens that if I dont give him his phone back he was going to leave me and head back to the barracks (at this time I had my own house and he had moved into mine). Remember that whole insecure thing earlier in the story..this is where it comes into play. I was so afraid of losing him because I didn’t believe I could be happy by myself or be attractive physically/emotionally for someone else to approach me. So stupidly I gave him his phone back and went to sleep on the couch. A couple of days pass and he decides he would not be staying in my house for the time being. So he goes and stays at *his barracks*. I put stars on that because eventually I find out he was staying with the girl. BITCH I KNOW. So you’re going to be mad at me. I stay with this man. I was all for second chances back then. So I gave him another chance. Now ill never know if he actually physically cheated on me, but emotionally cheating is the same thing in my book. It takes multiple mistakes to cheat..its not just one. Fast forward through our relationship to 2017. Two. Years. February 2017.. I find out I'm going to be stationed in South Korea come March 2017. He of course gets all lovey dovey. But our love had dwindled by then.. once trust is lost..its like a wrinkled piece of paper. No matter how much you try to flatten it and make it perfect again, you will always have some hint of wrinkle in it. March comes.. and I fly 14 hours straight. Atlanta --> Tokyo --> Seoul. Now mind you..he also was going to be stationed in Korea just a week or two later than me. So that time comes that he is in Korea. Everyone comes to the same place once they get to Korea to in process for their units. I was lucky enough to stay in Seoul. He was not. He was placed in a unit 4 hours away from me. But while he was in Seoul he visited me. It was ...bland. The love between us had truly vanished. He was protective, but too protective to the point where I couldn’t have friends without him questioning me. It got too much. 
A month or two passes by. Our relationship is hanging on by a thread basically. He would barely text or call anymore. So being the investigator I was. I checked his snapchat.. turns out he was sending sexual messages to a girl that was in my company. He denied the hell out of it, but I had seen the proof. I talked to a mutual friend that was in his unit..which he confirmed that Alex would go around asking other guys who all the single girls were so he would try and sleep with them (what a dick right?). After that I was done.. I broke it off with him. He pleaded and begged for me to stay with him, but it was the last chance. I was emotionally stronger than ever, and ended it right then and there. He would continue to message me on every social media platform he could, to the point where I had to block him on everything. Now I cant say that I didn’t cry for a complete week after this happened, but I was finally happy in my life and contempt with being single. Finally able to go out with the girls without feeling like I had a babysitter. Everything was going so well. 
Until I met him....
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ittybittyria · 6 years
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yet another processing post
So sometime during my first year of college someone told me that Christian communities are where you find the friends that become family. Four years later and I think that was one of the biggest pieces of bullshit I bought into.
Don't get me wrong, I've experienced A LOT of growth in the Christian communities I've been a part of and met great people, but I've also experienced an immense amount of judgement, shame, and hurt.
First off, college. LOL I say this all the time and I truly do mean it, college was probably the worst season of my life. On top of family brokenness, struggling with academics, and learning to manage several mental disorders, I had to deal with bullies, racism, sexism, rumors, exceedingly high expectations, never ending judgement companied with unwarned suggestions from several people who knew nothing about me on how to live my life, shaming, and several other things from my Christian fellowship. I think my broken idea of what family is alongside believing that Christian communities are where you find friends that become family made me think that this was okay. It literally took a complete breakdown, losing several friends / mentors, and ending up in the psych ward for me to realize that it was such a toxic environment. But, being in IV did impact me in a lot of positive ways such as personal & spiritual growth, meeting several slightly older folks who became positive role models and influences in my life, new opportunities for me to explore passions, and meeting people outside of UCD that deeply touched my heart. If I could do college over again, I'd still join IV, but I'd just do things differently. I would tell my college self to not lose yourself in the midst of all these leadership trainings / discipleship meetings / staff meet-ups, don't listen to people when they tell you who or what to give your time to because that's up to you, and that God's voice is the most important.
Looking back on college, there's really only one person I met in IV that has become family, and most of our friendship grew outside of IV considering she stopped going LOL There's others that are still friends / acquaintances that I talk to every now and then, see on social media, etc. These positive relationships that really do mean the world to me because they've really help shape me to who I am now. Being led by Victoria, being mentored by Alexi, sharing a friendship with Lily, being encouraged by Robert, etc. are things I treasure. Some of those friendships are still active on social media and it's always a reminder that college wasn't all pain. And then there's a lot of relationships that ended in hurt either through hurtful actions or fading away cause the friendship wasn't worth fostering to them. Those I still treasure for the positive moments and the season they were present in my life. But it's hard to look at those and smile because there's still a lot of hurt I have yet to move past. All in all, my college experience in a Christian community didn't showcase "friends becoming family." Rather it was a mix of meeting great people that challenged me and inspired me, and meeting people that made me lose myself and cause a deep amount of hurt.
As for post-grad, welp. It's been a journey. There's everything with Bayside Davis, which has been negative for the most part. Then there's my small group, which has been a difficult mix of both positive and negative. Positive because I genuinely love my small group. I enjoy our biblical discussions, I feel challenged and encouraged by them, we've shared a lot of laughs, and they're just great people overall. I just feel myself growing with this group and I enjoy the presence of each person. But negative because we aren't really a community LOL All we do is see each other on Thursday's and sometimes at church, and all we ever talk about is from the guided discussion at SG. We've had like four hang outs, three of which I've attended, and they've either been barely anyone or really short or no good chats about getting to know each other. So it's been weird to be in this group and feel growth personally and spiritually, but not in community. It's kinda weird heh.
And today, well, today made cry...a lot. A few days ago I texted my SG being real about how holidays are hard because my family and I go to different churches (it's a lot more than that but I wasn't get too deep into it over text lmao) and I tend to go alone and I was open with them and said that I didn't want to spend Easter morning at church alone and I was hoping to be with community. I asked which service they were going to and if I could join them. Only Elvira responded and she let me know that her and Kevin were serving at the 9am, but that means they don't get to sit during service. No one else responded and I assumed they'd gone back to their hometowns to be with family or just weren't going to Midtown. So I cried last night because I really just didn't want to go church alone. But I woke up this morning feeling good. My window was open, birds were singing, the sun was rising, and I just felt good. I was reminded that I was going to church alone, but I wasn't alone. I went to the 9am service, sat by myself, and loved every second of it. Could it have been better shared with community? Hell yeah, but I was still filled with joy. When I got to my car, someone from SG texted asking where people were sitting and they sent a picture and lookie there, my SG was all together for the second service. I just sat in my car trying not ruin my make-up with tears. I fought them back for a solid 30 minutes.
What got me was that there's a guy in my SG who I've known all through college. He's seen me through a lot and I've opened up to him. He knows the issues with my family and I've talked about how hard holidays are for me. And he couldn't even text me to tell me what service he was going to. I'm like 10x more angry and frustrated with him than the rest of my SG. I literally save him a seat every regular Sunday and his ass walks in late with a donut and coffee every time. Like he couldn't just respond and say 11am. It takes less than a minute to type and send that. And hearing all my family problems and the pain I carry along with it, he just couldn't fucking do it. Y'all I cannot even put into words how unloved I felt today by him.
And even my SG. I was honestly disappointed. I've planned all our hang outs, I've missed TWO small groups (one for a car problem and the other because I wanted to support a friend at her performance). They even said I get the award for best attendance cause I've probably been to the most SG's and YP events. I take time every weekend to pray for their prayer requests and if God brings something up when I pray, I text them. I don't do this to get anything back, like I promise I don't. I genuinely do this because I love my SG, I want the best for them, and I care about them. But I am hurt that no one could just say "11am" when I asked what service. Like...where are the friends that become family?
When I look at the people in my life and I see the friends that have become family, I didn't meet them jn Christian communities. I met them in HS (which was a catholic HS but it doesn't count cause it's totally different lmao) and through those HS friends. They've become family and most of them don't even fucking live in the same city as me. I've seen us travel miles on miles to celebrate birthdays, support each other at performances, be there at graduations, welcome people back at the airport, etc. I've seen us stick up for each other when racism and/or sexual harassment as come up, challenge each other to be better, call each other out on shit we do, etc. I've seen us laugh and cry all in the same hour, be vulnerable and share our stories, listen well and honor the stories we hear, etc. I've seen us go above and beyond to be good friends to each other and these are the friends that have become family.
I don't expect Jessica to fly to celebrate my birthday with me and I don't expect Luis to tell a guy to go away and leave me alone when he's been harassing me and I don't expect Holly to feed me chips outside the club when my drunk ass is hungry. I don't expect these of them and I'd never ask this of them. But a fucking text back when I send you a long message about why I'm thankful were part of my 2017 and how I hope you have a full and joyful 2018 would be nice. Like a thank you. Or you could even just heart the damn message. Or John could just say "I'm going to the 11am service" when I ask our SG which Easter service their going to so I don't go alone. Or even a "thanks for saving a seat" on Sunday's. But nothing. I don't even expect my friends friends to go above and beyond. Like I'm fucking living when they text me saying they also like Enlightened more than they like Halo Top and "OMG did you smell the easter bath bombs at lush? I think you'd like it." Honestly being friends with me really isn't hard. Like my biggest things are initiating every now and then, stick to your word and show up when you say you'll show up, and fucking texting back. Those are the main things and I really don't think they're that complex / difficult. Yet it seems like the only people that can do that in my life are Sabrina, my HS friends, and the friends I met through them. And relating back to what I was originally processing, Sabrina is the only one I met through a Christian community. Goes to show that the whole "Christian communities are where you meet the friends that become family" didn't happen for me heh
It's hard cause I have to remind myself that not everyone wants a friendship with me. But at the same time, don't ask me to plan SG hang outs or show up late to church cause you wanted Starbucks and you know I'll save you a seat or ask me for a ride somewhere when you don't plan on being a friend to me. Don't sit their receiving the benefits of a friendship with me without being a fucking friend to me. Recognize that you're taking advantage of it and either fucking stop or be a friend. Cause it hurts from this side of the situation.
--
LOL wow this post took a turn. I went from talking about buying into the bullshit that Christian communities hold the best friendships you'll have to just friendship in general to getting really fucking mad at people. I think the turn this took is a sign that I need to spend some time in prayer and with God cause there ain't no room in my heart for this bitterness.
Okay I'm tired now and I want to watch Grey's Anatomy to let my brain just stop thinking for a bit and I also need to go pray cause yeah, bitterness ain't cool n shit
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mikecardenmpreg · 6 years
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recovery, etc.
so its been just about a year since i got back into therapy and i just want to say this because i didnt make it clear enough when it happened. when i went in for my intake session last december, they wanted to hospitalize me. like. that day. right then. they didnt even want to finish the interview. they just wanted to admit me. because people reporting numbers like mine were in hospitals on suicide watch. they did not want me to leave the premises. i had to assure them that i wasnt going to kill myself (even though i knew that wasnt a promise i could make). i had to sign a CONTRACT promising i would not kill myself before my first therapy session. the intake specialist was skeptical but he let me go (though he had no idea how i was able to function on a daily basis - jokes on him though because i wasnt functioning at all). he had a look in his eye that told me he wasnt sure letting my leave was a good idea. when i went to my first therapy session with ann a few weeks later, she also wanted to hospitalize me and again i found myself assuring someone i didnt know that i wasnt going to kill myself (and that still wasnt a promise i could make). a year ago i was so sick that i was nearly hospitalized for my own safety and for the safety of others. i smiled and joked and laughed through it all. i reblogged relatable sad posts. i tried not to make it seem like it really bothered me. but i was barely hanging on. 
i got my diagnosis on december 13th. i didnt talk to ann much but i told her just enough for her to deduce i had bpd. its something i knew for at least two years. i sat with my knees to my chest the entire session, uttering a few words here and there, picking at the fraying knees of my jeans. she took notes. she told me my numbers were concerning, that people with numbers like these are generally in inpatient care. i stared. nothing behind my eyes. i was a shell. she said “hopefully next time we meet youll be more comfortable with me and we can talk some more”. i felt like an asshole for sitting there and wasting her time. i thought i was a lost cause. i thought there was no way i was gonna get better.
and for the longest time i didnt. i was hurting so much. i was separated from all my friends and still dealing with the aftermath of not one but two absolutely devastating (at the time) rejections. i wanted to kill myself so badly but didnt have the means to do it efficiently and effectively (ive always been too scared to actually try to kill myself in case it didnt work - something ive told my therapist). i felt like the biggest fucking loser. i remembered the summer of 2012 and thinking (back then) that there was no way i could feel worse than i did then. i was wrong. how i felt in december 2016 through january-march 2017 was the worst ive ever felt in my entire life. looking back its mostly static. dont remember a lot of it. all i remember is being angry and suicidal and wanting to hurt everyone around me.
in april i started dbt. it took awhile for me to get into the class. ann had me take other classes to help cope with my other problems (anxiety mostly) and helped me process some of my issues until i could get into dbt. borderline is a little out of her area of expertise but she knows how to listen and is very very good at validating all my little hang ups (i love my therapist).
it took me a few weeks to see the value in dbt. for the first few months all it did was dredge up old shit and trigger me until i was hollow and numb. every week it felt like i was being ripped open and flayed. every week i got to relive a different traumatic memory. every week i disassociated to keep myself safe in this room of strangers (who were also disassociating to keep themselves safe). (disassociation is not a healthy coping mechanism) 
but then i went on medication for my depression and anxiety and the combination of that, dbt, and regular therapy sessions actually began to like work? like? thats wild? and i started to see changes in my life because i was learning how to communicate appropriately and deal with my trauma effectively. and i stopped dwelling on the things that made me feel bad and started diving in to the things that made me feel good. i started spending more time with friends and reaching out and actually putting an effort into being a better friend. i started being honest and open with my parents about my progress rather than being super secretive and hiding things. and somehow the constant stress dreams and nightmares and violent thoughts and suicidal ideations stopped. i was finally able to enjoy things again. i was even able to spend time with my parents and actually enjoy it. hell i even looked forward to seeing them and talking to them (which is a really fucking big deal).
there have been slip ups along the way. things have happened that have really bent me out of shape. but i was able to deal with those things and recover. last december i was prepared to ruin every relationship i had. i told my parents to not come to my graduation. i almost deleted all my friends phone numbers and unfollowed them on all social media so i never had to speak to them again. i was ready to isolate myself from everyone so that when i killed myself (which i was getting ready to do) i wouldnt hurt anyone.
im not gonna say that i cant believe that person then and the person i am now are the same people because i can absolutely believe it. there are times when i want to go back to my old ways because regressing is a lot easier than constant progress. and getting better doesnt always have 100% positive results. ive learned a lot about myself and others along the way. ive had to sever ties. ive learned that some people arent capable of change. ive learned that sometimes taking a break from the people you love the most is the best thing you can do for yourself (and for them). ive had to have hard conversations because getting better has forced me to learn that you gotta actually work for what you want. 
i havent been perfect this whole time either. i still havent learned how to value my own feelings over the feelings of others or how to accept that other people care about me. im sure some day i will. a year of therapy isnt going to fix everything. but some day ill have a breakthrough.
the whole point of this though is that if i can make it through my darkest moments and turn my shit around....anyone can. but its important to know beforehand that its a process. nothing happens overnight. nothing happens in a month. recovery is something you have to work at day and night for the rest of your life. its something you have to want. it doesnt come easy and its not pleasant. its not all soothing baths and flowers and handwritten journals. its crying and screaming and addressing your past traumas and welcoming them into your home like theyre family (and then accepting that they happened but not letting them dictate your every move). its being honest - brutally honest - with not only yourself but with others. its letting go of people you love and learning to exist in the void of loneliness (until the people you love learn to accept the new you). its showing up every week (or month or whatever) and saying something for once, even if you think its stupid, even if you think its irrelevant. recovery is ongoing. im about to finish my first year. i still have a lot of work to do and im actually kind of excited to do it? which is cool considering my contingency plan has always been to kill myself.
anyway. i just wanted to say that. i dont pat myself on the back very often but ive accomplished a lot this last year. and not gonna lie but ive referred to myself as “most improved patient” in my head multiple times these past few months. im in a pretty okay place right now. im glad im still here (despite the world getting worse literally every day). im glad i have people i can share that with. and i hope some day soon i can return the love and support ive been given tenfold :)
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pixelgrotto · 6 years
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Sega and franchise decay
Sonic Forces, the newest 3D game to star a certain blue hedgehog, is out now and receiving middling reviews. Rather than talk about it, I’d rather discuss the 2D Sonic Mania, which came out a few months ago. I never got the chance to blog about it until now, but you can read my Steam review for what it’s worth. I would’ve preferred that the game be composed of all new levels instead of a few new ones and remixed oldies, and in some ways I do believe that Sonic Generations did the “celebration of past and future” shtick a tad better, but overall, I had a good time with Mania. The most impressive thing about it, in my eyes, is how well it captures that 90s-2000s Sega “magic.” It’s hard to describe this in words, but during those years the company’s output, especially their in-house, exclusive stuff, just radiated coolness and creativity that was a little different from what Nintendo was doing. Whether it was the neon visual smorgasbord that encompassed all of the zones in Sonic’s games or the Moebius-inspired fantasy trappings of the Panzer Dragoon series, Sega’s games often seemed fresher and sexier, with dashes of unexpected punk and sophistication in them that the Big N could never really capture. I mean, the run ‘n jump levels and cheery tunes of the Mushroom Kingdom in the Mario games were wonderful, but hell, Sonic 3 featured snowboarding action and a soundtrack that Michael Jackson worked on.
Unfortunately, while the Nintendo of 2017 is kicking butt with the Switch and has upcoming releases scheduled for most of their classic franchises, the Sega of 2017 is in a much different position, and the changes began after the sad failure of the Dreamcast in 2001, when Sega killed off its hardware unit. In the years since, the company’s slowly morphed from a creative house that bankrolled a franchise of games starring an alien-fighting aquatic mammal (Ecco the Dolphin) into a conservative organization that does NOT want to repeat the monetary losses that were suffered during the Sega Saturn and Dreamcast eras, and is therefore highly selective with what it publishes and develops. And somewhere along the way, most of the older franchises that Sega was known for went by the wayside, because their most recent entries either underperformed or they were considered too risky for today’s gaming environment. If you look at the company’s website, you can see a list of what modern Sega considers to be their top tier franchises, and most of them are Western ones that were acquired fairly recently, like Company of Heroes. As far as notable in-house Japanese stuff is concerned, you’ve really only got the Yakuza and Hatsune Miku games (guaranteed moneymakers in Japan, which is why they keep getting made), and Sonic (a guaranteed moneymaker in the rest of the world).  What happened to all those franchises of the past, then? Sega let them decay. Shinobi got its last release - a pretty good 3DS game - in 2011, and there’s been nary a word since. Anything is possible with ninjas, since Capcom brought Strider back from a 15 year retirement in 2013, but for now, Joe Musashi is AWOL. Ecco the Dolphin died in the Dreamcast era, Shining Force seems to have sputtered out after several PS2 and PSP releases that barely resembled the series’ strategy roots, and Panzer Dragoon vanished after Sega’s short-lived flirtation with the original Xbox in the early 2000s. The Oasis series (Beyond Oasis and Legend of Thor) never survived past the Sega Saturn, despite featuring excellent top-down action RPG gameplay that had the potential to go up against Zelda, if Sega had only invested the resources. While we’re on the topic of RPGs, Phantasy Star *sort of* still lives on as an MMO, but the single player entries in the series have long been dead, and even after five years, Sega has still refused to localize Phantasy Star Online 2 outside of Japan. And then we have two really depressing ones - Streets of Rage has been MIA even though Sega went out of its way to issue a takedown notice for a popular fan remake that was released in 2011, and Virtua Fighter, despite being pretty much the earliest 3D fighting franchise, hasn’t seen a real entry since 2006, and only exists as a cheap mobile game now. (I realize there are plenty of other franchises I’m leaving out here like Jet Set Radio, but I decided to limit my focus to games I’d played.)
In the aftermath of Sonic Mania’s release, there were a number of threads on NeoGAF (before GAF, well, imploded), speculating on what franchises should receive a “Mania” type resurrection. And if you’ve read up to this point, you can guess what my answer will be - damn near all of Sega’s old series could use this treatment. New versions of Shining Force and Panzer Dragoon that respect their legacy by emulating the style of their forefathers while introducing just enough new stuff to appeal to younger fans would absolutely make me lose my mind. But I feel that we’re unlikely to ever get a “Shining Mania” or “Panzer Dragoon Mania,” because the circumstances that brought us Sonic Mania are unique. Sonic has always had a robust fangame and ROM hacking community, and it was Christian Whitehead, one of those fan engineers, whose mobile port of Sonic CD just happened to be good enough to get Sega to hire him to port other Sonic games to phones. One thing led to another, and eventually Christian got tasked to take the lead in making Sonic Mania.  Sega’s other old franchises don’t inspire fans and homebrew projects in quite the same way, and even though Streets of Rage came close with that 2011 remake, Sega swooped in pretty fast to nuke that one from the net, and I don’t think they gave any of the former devs jobs. This is because Sega just doesn’t care about Streets of Rage, Ecco the Dolphin, or even Virtua Fighter as much as Sonic. The blue hedgehog is a long-term mascot who’s managed to survive oodles of so-so 3D games (like the new Sonic Forces) to still be popular 25+ years after his birth. He’s not seen as a risk to the conservative Sega of 2017. A new Oasis game, on the other hand, probably is, and why should Sega stretch their lessened in-house production studios on what might be criticized as a Zelda clone when they can instead make another proven thing - a new Sonic, or perhaps a Yakuza or Hatsune Mika spinoff? No, I think the only way some of these franchises could be resurrected is if the original devs manage to grab hold of the license and take to Kickstarter, as is the case with Shenmue 3, a rare success story in this day in age. (Emphasis on the word RARE…and I’d actually rather not call Shenmue 3 a total “success” until the game is out, to be honest.) Franchise decay isn’t unique to Sega. It’s an affliction present in many other production studios, from Square Enix (I miss you, Parasite Eve) to Capcom (the mobile Breath of Fire 6 does not count) to Konami (Contra, Suikoden, damn near everything). Even Nintendo, who have generally done a fine job at avoiding this by bringing Kid Icarus and 2D Metroid back from the dead, have seemingly gone out of their way to not make a new F-Zero game for an awfully long time. But Sega is definitely the king when it comes to the sheer number of oldies that could stand to be updated for a new generation, but won’t be. And Sega are also the only ones to tempt us with Sonic Mania, a game chock-full of easter eggs to old titles that also offers a template which would be PERFECT for something like Shinobi or Streets of Rage…but one that likely won’t be used. Because the magical Sega of yesteryear, the one that got Michael Jackson to fiddle with Sonic 3 and used to be oh so fresh and oh so cool, is not the Sega of today.  RIP, Shinobi, Ecco, Shining Force, Panzer Dragoon, Oasis, single player Phantasy Star, Streets of Rage and Virtua Fighter. Somewhere, in the same alternate universe that Sonic Mania manifested from, the Dreamcast did super well and all of you are on your tenth respective entries right now. 
It’s a blast processing fever dream, but isn’t it a nice one? (Header Sonic Mania screenshot taken by me. All the other pics I jacked from Mobygames.)
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