#since then my mental health has been thriving thankfully

[thatbipolargirl]

5-30-2022

I know I haven't written in awhile, but life has gotten in the way. My Aunt Rita died on Tuesday, May 3rd at 1:04 in the morning after a short battle with pancreatic cancer. My Uncle Jim died of the same thing in 2008, so it could possibly be hereditary. Aunt Rita didn't suffer much, not nearly as much as Uncle Jim. Either way though, pancreatic cancer is an absolutely horrific way to die. My mom has been having severe pain underneath her left shoulder since the day of Aunt Rita's funeral on May 6th. It got so serious, she even went to the ER in Brookfield on Monday, May 9th thinking she was having a heart attack. The pain radiates around her side, so that is why she thought it was her heart. It wasn't thankfully. At first they thought it was gallstones, which she does have, but now they think it is arthritis. I was worried it was pancreatic cancer because that can cause all kinds of weird symptoms, but I think they've ruled that out. She is supposed to have an MRI of her back (and also an Upper GI for the gallstones). They did an ultrasound of the gallstones several weeks ago, but the doctor said it wasn't causing her pain. He said the biggest one was about 3/4 of an inch big, but it isn't blocking anything such as the bile duct, and a person generally only has pain if they start to move or if they are blocking a duct. So hopefully we will find out answers after her MRI. I'm worried about her, and I hate it that she's in any kind of pain whatsoever. Sometimes the pain gets so bad she can't sleep, which is just awful.

Addie had her baby on April 14th. It is a little boy and his name is Ashton Luke. He's thriving and seems to be such a sweet baby. We went to a Women's Rally in Maryville at the Nodaway County Courthouse on May 14th, and I got to hold him for a little while. It is so wonderful to cradle such an innocent soul and think about all the possibilities for him throughout his (hopefully) very long life. The reason they held the rally was because the US Supreme Court is about to overturn Roe v. Wade, which scares the hell out of me! I personally won't be affected, but millions and millions of women in this country will be, including all three of my nieces. I can't believe women are still fighting after 50 years of Roe being basically settled law. However, more than half of the states have been chipping away at reproductive rights since Roe was won, including Missouri. I literally don't know what to do to help women in the US, so I went to the rally and donated to both NARAL and Planned Parenthood. It would be nice to become a member of some kind of underground railroad for women seeking abortion, but as of now I haven't been made aware of one since abortion is still legal in most states at least for the next month when SCOTUS officially delivers their decision. Oh, also I donate to the Missouri Abortion Fund through Amazon Smile, so every purchase I make on Amazon goes to them. It is just pennies on the dollar for each transaction, but a little is better than nothing.

There have been a lot of mass shootings lately, the most recent one being at an elementary school in Uvalde, Texas. Nineteen nine, ten and eleven year olds were killed, along with two teachers. Now gun control is the main topic of the news, and the gun rights advocates are screaming "Second Amenement" at the top of their lungs, while others are screaming for stricter gun laws. All I know is that it is truly scary that I (yes, me) can buy a gun legally in Missouri even with all of my mental health issues. It should not be this way. I have literally had panic attacks thinking about me having a psychotic break, purchasing a gun (or guns) and shooting up a public place. It scares me to death that I could do something like that. It just isn't right that guns have more rights in the United States of America than women do. It makes me sick to my stomach to think that, but it is true.

I started to see a new therapist (yes, again). I think she is my 37th therapist I've had in my life. Her name is Ada Silvey, and she is 80 years old. I thought that would be a problem, but the woman is very sharp and remembers, in detail, every single thing I tell her. My worry now is that she will die after we make good progress, and then I will have to start all over again with a new therapist. Also, I've had recent visions of her dying during an actual session with me, which is scary as hell. She's been quite helpful so far, teaching me a new breathing technique and assisting me with my intrusive thoughts about death and dying and killing other people. I have been both suicidal and homicidal lately. That's why I started therapy again in the first place. I told Dr. Harden about the intrusive thoughts, and all he did was up my Zyprexa from 30mg to 45mg, which took away (most) of the intrusive thoughts, but took away most of my other thoughts as well. I felt like a catatonic zombie for a few days, but I stopped taking the extra Zyprexa, and now I'm feeling a bit better. The intrusive thoughts are back, but they aren't as bad as they were...yet. I need to find a new psychiatrist in St. Joe. Driving to Kirksville is such a pain in the ass. Especially for a fifteen minute appointment that could have been done over the phone. Dr. Harden does allow me to do every other session over the phone, which is nice, but it is harder to tell him the truth when I'm not looking him in the eyes. And I need to be very truthful about these suicidal and homicidal thoughts so I don't become a danger to myself or others. I seriously wish there was a hotline for homicidal thoughts, just like there are suicide hotlines. I'm sure there are many others like me, and that I am not the only one to have these thoughts.

I haven't talked to David in almost two months. He told me another outrageous lie about being raped, and I just quit communicating. I also think he has been talking to Jeanette or another woman while he's talking to me because he sent me a text that wasn't meant for me. I'm sick and tired of his lies -- muggings, hospitalizations, the murder of his best friend and now rape. Not to mention his constant lying about working or looking for work and his lies about drinking. I think I finally got him out of my system, and that there is no way he can redeem himself in my eyes. I have been struggling internally with the existence of fate and soulmates and twin souls since we quit talking. He fucked up what little faith I had in this universe, and now everything just seems so damn random, with no meaning at all when it comes to the big picture of everything. Fuck past lives and future lives and parallel lives. This life is all we get. That's it. End of fucking list. Also, fuck him for destroying my fragile faith. Alcoholic asshole who in no way is amazing to me anymore. I'm done. Finished. He can live out his miserable fucking existence without me, and I hope he suffers every single day for the rest of his life.

Something positive -- I am going to Hermann/Columbia with my mom, Holly, Angela, Callie and Cassidy this weekend. We are touring several wineries in Hermann on Saturday, then spending the night in Columbia and shopping there the next day. The one winery I really wanted to go to is closed for the weekend because of a family wedding. It is the Adam Puchta winery, and I think it is his son (or maybe grandson) that is getting married on the property. The other wineries we are for sure going to are Stone Hill and Hermannhoff. I'm glad Callie and Cass are going so they can drive our drunk asses around! Ha! With as rarely as I drink, I'm sure two glasses of wine will have me lit up like fireworks.

Jeremy hurt his back the other day, and it really frustrates me. He really needs to find a doctor here in town as soon as fucking possible. I'm sure he needs refills on his metformin, and he definitely needs blood tests for his diabetes. I don't even know the last time he had his A1C checked. Or his cholesterol. And now that he's over 40, he needs to start having a prostate exam once a year. Part of the contributing factors to my father's death was prostate cancer, and I'm not losing my husband to something that can so easily be detected and treated. Also, he needs to get a referral to the pain clinic so they can treat his back. No more fucking excuses about it being too expensive either. He has the money, he just doesn't like to spend it on anything that isn't food or video games. But this is his health, and like it or not, he's going to get healthcare or I'm going to go insane.

It is just now 6:30am, and I've already written a small novel today. I'm a little manic from not taking the extra Zyprexa last night. I fell asleep around 11:30 and then Boxxy woke me up at 4:00 this morning. I've got so much shit on my to-do list that I need to end this for now and get fucking busy.

Until then...

[wrestledwiththegods]

I see you do yandere requests and 💦 so what do you imagine the darker papas and Copia are like?

Okay. So. Without going too deep into it, in the time between me writing my original rules, and getting this ask- I had a long and meaningful conversation with a friend about yandere and how a lot of its hallmark traits resemble stereotypes of certain mental illnesses. How this has been harmful to those groups, the stigma, etc. Please know this is not me talking down about your ask or saying you cannot enjoy that content, but I've decided to not write that specific thing for my hcs.

That being said, I am still MORE than happy to write villainous or "darker" hcs that dont involve that specific "obsessive" yandere feel. If that makes sense.

Sorry I hope you still enjoy this!

Also note: most of these have multiple outcomes depending upon certain factors. Ill be tagging anything villain or "darker" as darkau so people can blacklist!

Papa Nihil is a mad king type of villain. It's his world, baby, and maximum hedonism is the goal. He may be older but that does not at all stop him from seeking pleasure even at the risk to his own health. Fucks everything that moves. Holds parties to an extravagant degree. Definitely the kind of bad guy to monologue about past exploits and deeds with the turn of his hand like they weren't horrible things to do. We all (read: other people who aren't him) have to make sacrifices for the church. When he first sees you, you seem like a fun new toy, so to speak. "Cute" is the first word to come to mind.

Likely he first tries to buy your affections. A wolfish smile on his face as he asks if you want a taste of the good life. You two could have some fun. Yet even if you say yes, he soon finds its not enough. Why? He asks himself with a frown. He tries harder, takes more of your time if you let him. You get pulled away from work to have meals with him. He actually asks personal questions about *you* that normally he wouldn't give a shit about in a plaything. But you're not just one of those silly siblings of sin he plays around with.

He hasn't felt this way in a very long time. Its the most serious he's felt in a long time. He still wants to fuck around and basically be his worst self, mind you. But he wants you to be at the top with him. You two can burn brightly together, taking in the best of what his awful actions have bought you. This is if you say yes. If you say no… he smiles. No hard feelings! You'll never be forced to do anything you don't want. It's like he turned off his personality at the drop of a hat. You'll still get gifts after that. Feel his eyes on you around the church. The parties get louder, his screwing around more apparent when you walk in a room. Still, you'll feel his focus on you and nothing else. Almost like he's anticipating for you to change your mind. He'll be waiting.

Papa I - Papa I has always been assumed to be the least threatening of the Emeritus family. He likes to garden, kept to himself after getting off stage. Much of his real "work" is private, you see. Whether it's preparing a poor lost lamb for a ritual after they had betrayed the church for some personal gain. Or slowly and intricately cutting into their skin sigils for the Morningstar. Hes even been known as the best if you need a torturer (although thankfully it is rarer in these days).

You probably take his notice when you express interest in one of his many poisonous plants- lily of the valley. Only if ingested, he tells you. But if you think those are beautiful, he has a lot more he can show you- his private collection.

Its shortly after that you find your duties reassigned to his office. Its out of nowhere, but definitely a step up. The way he phrases it to you is that he needs more help with the garden as one of his previous assistants needed a change of pace. And from what he's heard of you plus your interest, you seem perfect for the job! Really, he just craves to be beside you. Listen to you chatter as you both work the soil, see the sweat roll down your neck on hot days-

The difference between Papa I and everyone else on the list here is that he probably won't make a grand move or gesture. He pines. Hopes that you'll see his feelings and his darkness and love all of it. But deep down he knows how unlikely that is. That one day he'll show you the beauty of ritual hands on. See the blood glisten oh-so-beautifully on your skin. He still sighs happily thinking on it.

If you never express feelings for him, he basically devotes himself to making your life better, in his perspective. Changes your work schedule so its timed well for you to get a good night's rest. Looks out for things you might *need.* If there is anything you want to learn, he's more than happy to show you himself or help you get the resources you need. When it might get bad is when someone expresses interest in you, or you to someone. Ah… well. They're just not good enough for you. Not in his mind. He'll tell you rumors he's heard. Talk to them directly to get them to back off. He has an entire checklist in his mind that they have to meet. Pretty much no one will.

If someone does (its possible but unlikely), however, he feels his heart break. He still pines. And longs. But he lets you go to that person. After all, no matter what horrible things hes done, he wants you to be happy. His heartache is worth that.

Papa II- Papa II as a villain is actually a lot closer to the steteotypes and rumors about him normally- ruthless, cold, and seemingly doesn't care about others. He has this anger deep in his core that is never fully expressed. Truly, he is a sadist in that he usually enjoys the pain of others at his hands. Likes helping out on those rare occasions torture is a thing with Papa I in the lower underground sections of the church. Always seems like hes looking for someone to punish, and usually in a very unpleasant way. Yes, this has extended to death if he deems the "crime" severe enough. The sadism extends into the bedroom for harsh "games"- however he's not a monster when it comes to sexual partners. Still gives them aftercare, even if its a tad on the unfeeling side and more out of obligation.

It probably wasn't just one thing that put you in his sights. He noticed you one day probably doing something kind and kept running into you. He likes picturing your heart racing when you see him, like prey in the face of danger. Over time he starts developing a fondess that he can't quite deny. It's strange. Its been so long since he's genuinely felt this way about anyone, he doesn't know how to react at first. So he pulls out some stops. You get letters, at first, delivered by a ghoul. Later they come with expensive gifts he thinks you'll look good in or enjoy. You should wear it. It pleases him so much to see wear something he got you. Its sort of a subtle claim in his mind. He does expect replies delivered to a certain ghoul or place. Eventually the ghoul comes and there isn't a letter. You're being summoned.

He asks you straightforward to be his prime mover. He's honest in his intentions that he wants you exclusive only to him. He would give you the same if you asked. In fact, he would give you almost anything if you asked. At first this might all seem business but you might notice the slight flush in his cheeks, the unusual hesitation in his voice- little tells. Also the fact he's never asked anyone to be his prime mover, as far as you know. If you say yes, you find he's more gentle when its just the two of you. He has this warm smile in bed you'll catch. He kisses your forehead softly and its this aching tenderness. When others are around, no one would ever know.

If you say no, you are dismissed and he thanks you for your time. Its as if you don't exist to him after that. He just… walks past you like a ghost. Won't acknowledge you if you were to say anything, though I certainly wouldn't. Basically the walls he let down for a brief moment are back up and reinforced. It hurts to see you around, but hes stronger than that. There are things to do in the church. He'll take out these feelings on someone else.

Papa III- As a villain, Papa III is a siren. He's beautiful, says all the right things and pulls lost souls down to the depths with him. On a quick glance, he just seems like someone very devout to the principles of the church and/or hedonistic party guy. His favorite thing to do is lure new people to the church, have them do horrible things and then offer shelter from the other world who will no longer accept them. All with a cute wink or a few silver laced words. This applies to his relationships. He moves fast and likes whoever is interesting at the time- platonic, romantic, alliances. If he decides you're not fun anymore, you get a kick to the curb if the former. The latter usually just ends up to some horrible fate. He thrives on people wanting him so badly they would do anything.

Which is why you as a concept is frustrating. Likely he's already picked you up as someone to have around as a casual fuck or in his "entourage", so to speak. He doesn't fuck around when he wants someone. But you've lasted so long, held his interest. There's a shitty little mercurial part of him that keeps denying what should be obvious. Some days he thinks he'll get rid of you in the morning. Other days he thinks how he can't live without you. He probably has his epiphany when someone else suggests it might be time for you to go. His reaction is filled with anger and aggression. The person seemingly disappeared the next day.

Suddenly he'll be a lot more affectionate. Act like you're his partner in how he conducts himself instead of a follower. All his other sex partners are dumped but not replaced. He asks you be exclusive and practically fucks you to oblivion when you agree. He took after his father in the wolfish smile department. That's what you get from him if you start questioning any of this. Why wouldn't he? You're his favorite. He loves you. The truth of the matter is, even if you didn't love him back, as long as you don't betray him- it stays like this. He adores you and wants you at his side.

If you had answered no to any of it in the first place, he would have gone on without a thought. Oh well!

Papa Copia- Copia is pulling all the strings. He has been for quite a long time. That's why he's papa now, no? Everything and everyone is bent to his will, at least for now until they need another reminder. He's had others killed or just plain framed to get them out of his way. But through it all, the shy and incredibly awkward mannerisms he exaggerated to put peoples guards down, were the most real around you. In gatherings in the church he'd find himself staring, quiet and calculating. He'd slip into fancies about what it would be like to have you romantically. Something about you makes him feel… like an ordinary man. The vulnerability made his heart race and dangle over an imaginary precipice.

Once the new Papacy is official, he comes to you, privately. No, you're not in trouble, he smiles and gives a nervous laugh. He has a proposal. He wants you to be his prime mover. His jewel above all others. If you accept, you'll be treated like royalty in the church. Hanging on his arm at events where no one would dare to touch you or speak ill of you. Sometimes when you're alone he just likes to hold you. Out of all the terrible, rotten things on this earth, you're actually his. Once he realizes he can trust you, he tends to have more vulnerable moments. Things he's probably never told anyone. No matter how stained his hands, he will make sure you are never hurt.

However, you're free to tell him no- He'll be shocked, perhaps try to charm his way. If you still say no, he leaves to think on it. As much as it pains him, if he cannot have you, he would rather not see you at all. He's not going to kill you or hurt you though, no- you might think so for a moment when you're pulled into his office with Imperator behind him. Instead he tells you with some regret that you are to be transferred to another church. He'll miss you, as will the members of the main church of course. But you're needed elsewhere. That's it. As if it was just routine. The next week you leave and he watches you from a window, something in his chest aching. You are his soft spot. And he can't risk having that exposed if he can't have you.

#darkau #ghost hcs #papa nihil #papa i #papa ii #papa iii #papa copia #copia #sooooo i misread until i got done with half of them and added a romantic element WHOOPS #ghost hc #ghost 18+

[artmotherhoodandmadness]

Breaking the trauma bond with the help of EMDR

Trauma bonds have punctuated my whole life; in fact my very first one was probably the relationship with my middle sister. I put her on a pedestal and thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world and a genius. She took umbrage with my perception of her and in seconds her volatile outbursts could leave me flattened and annihilated. My mother and stepfather frequently had outbursts too; you never knew when another bomb was going to be detonated. But then my sister could be funny, charming, charismatic and erudite; my mother made exquisite food; and my stepfather would buy my art materials when I needed them. They could behave monstrously, but they could be nice too. This was how the intermittent reinforcement was cemented, there would be storms peppered with moments of sunshine and you hoped there would be more sunny days than stormy ones. Like the lab rats experimented on in Skinner’s experiment, the rat would keep pulling the lever hoping for a reward but Skinner ensured that the pellets came with less frequency; nonetheless the rat would keep pulling the lever and neglect everything else hoping for another pellet. Just one last high, one last reward, one final hit of dopamine. Without realising it the rat had become an addict, and without realising it as a child I became an addict, too, addicted to a lethal combination of chemicals, unleashed when I was shouted at, namely cortisol, followed by my reward dopamine if I was on the receiving end of a moment of kindness. But moments of kindness were inconsistent and unpredictable.

The next trauma bond lasted ten years with a girl at school who really didn’t like me and could be cruel, indifferent and a bully, but I was blindly devoted to her and it caused me great distress and sadness when she discarded me, then hoovered me up, gave me a crumb of attention only to devalue and discard once more, it was an insidious pattern. I watched her develop from a vibrant, happy girl, to one who was obese and an alcoholic from the age of 10 to 18. I didn't understand at the time that it was another trauma bond and so a pattern has persisted in my life to this day. When I look back on specific friendships and numerous interactions, there were often unhealthy attachments with typically narcissistic types.

During my session with Dr S I told him about my friend of three years, a fellow, artist, who struggled with emotionally unstable personality disorder. His outbursts left me decimated, but then I focused on his talents in music and photography and believed, as a mental health campaigner, I could not abandon him.

Dr S said, ‘No good comes from maintaining contact with a narcissist. The only person that benefits is the narcissist, you are being used as supply.’

Dr S ascertained that my friend was a narcissist in minutes after I shared a text exchange. I had told my friend that I was doing EMDR and very quickly his texts became rebarbative.

‘You have to delete his number, you cannot allow someone to speak to you like that, he’s a scumbag.’ Dr S said matter of factly.

I thought of the times in the past, since I had my psychosis, when I had erratic outbursts and said things that I would never have said if I had been well, and I was convinced me deleting his number would be tantamount to abandoning him.

‘You are spreading yourself too thin,’ Dr S concluded.

‘You are in therapy, you are trying to get better, you have to focus on the here and now, your husband and children, not saving others.’

My friend reminded me of my sister, just as I had hoped to save her, I hoped to save him, but Dr S was right, I had to reinstate myself. What good would come from having a ‘self detonating fire cracker’ in my life?

‘Charity begins at home,’ Dr S said.

‘He has made you his slave. He has become heroin. You are behaving like an addict.’

All of this was shocking, I didn’t want to be anyone’s slave and the EMDR commenced. I held that thought. ‘Slave.’ The word got bigger and louder in my head to the point where I said, ‘No more.’

Had the penny dropped? I had a high tolerance for abuse, because I grew up in a volatile household but everyone has their tipping point. My husband knew about my friendship and didn't approve, in his eyes my friend was a ‘loser’.

Suddenly I was confused, were there some mentally ill people that you just dismissed as beyond help?

‘Could he ever get better?’ I asked.

‘Yes, with EMDR it’s possible.’

He was a cannabis user, too, and as long as he smoked he would continue to have delusions of grandeur and a strong sense of entitlement. I thought of my other friend, a photographer who was addicted to cannabis. He was on medication and receiving mental health support but still had not turned his life around, and it was frustrating to talk to him. I realised that it did not serve me to listen to him talking about cannabis, it brought me low, he was doing nothing with his life, just frittering it away. I was proactive, productive, a creator and I wanted to be around people who appreciated my talents, who were supportive and encouraging, who were stable and kind. My digital paintings reflected the conflict between the turbulence that I was facing and the desire for calm, there was a stark dichotomy of disparate forces coming into play when I looked at them.

Dare I say it I needed normal people in my life, not dysfunctional ones and this predilection for the dysfunctional stemmed from childhood. Did I want to be dysfunctional or functional? Of course I wanted the latter.

Dr S continued with the EMDR focusing on the analogy of the friendship being like heroin and as he moved his fingers I said to myself, ‘I don’t want to be a heroin addict, I am not a junky, I will go zero contact, I will no longer respond.’

Dr S went even further and said the abuse I had received during the friendship, had left me with battered wife syndrome and a diminished sense of self, this was also shocking. But it reminded me of how I felt as a child when my stepfather hit me in public, or my sister and mother shouted at me in a public place, my self esteem would shrivel to the size of a pea. I always felt that I had done something wrong and that I deserved it.

My friendship with the artist, accompanied with his volatile outbursts, replicated these seminal childhood relationships and subliminally I knew all of this. In fact I had tried repeatedly to break contact.

My husband, by contrast, was stable, solid, responsible, patient and consistent. I didn’t get the same chemicals from my bond with him, but I did get a sense of security from an attachment with someone I had known since I was 19. And of course it had not been easy for him to see his wife go through a roller coaster ride of mental health struggles, often I had seen him as the enemy but that was no longer the case. It was like a dense fog had lifted. With the right treatment maybe I was going to finally turn a corner. Certainly he was happy with my progress, I owed it to my family and well being to stick with the treatment.

Maybe this would be my last ever trauma bond?

I told Dr S that everyday I did my writing, art, music and exercise. I also tried to be present with the kids, my focus was on being calm, fostering a stable environment at home and so far I had achieved this. I didn’t believe that I could have psychosis again, or raise my voice or have an episode. In fact, I didn’t recognise who that person was. I was returning to the person I was before the psychosis.

Dr S said it would be a long road but that all the dots could be joined together from childhood, and there was still much to investigate and unpick. My life was filled with so much trauma, how would it be possible to process it all? The bilateral stimulation that came from EMDR activated the left and right hemispheres of the brain; these memories would become less potent as they were processed. I saw EMDR as a method of breaking down and diminishing the power of unpleasant memories and when I got home I decided to try it myself. I took a recurring and unpleasant memory and then I analysed and focused on one aspect of it. For example, when I was in London, I met many famous people and often it made me feel uncomfortable and inadequate, I couldn’t deal with such interaction and yet at the same time I wondered if they were better than me because they were richer and more successful. Instead I said, ‘I am me, I like my simple life, they have skills, but so do I, do I want to be them? No I am happy painting, writing and composing, my heroes are the underdogs, the ones that never got any recognition but carried on regardless.’ Then I held onto that idea and did the EMDR. I did this repeatedly with memories that  have kept on recurring for decades until I felt giddy with mental exhaustion. Dr S said that I might have vivid dreams as a result and sure enough my dreams were filled with random recollections of trauma. There was so much of it and it was shocking that I had endured and survived it all, but that was the point, I had survived and I was still standing.

I read online that it was possible to do EMDR on your own, I realised that there were things that I didn’t want to share with Dr S, they were too harrowing and sometimes his response was not gentle, he was tough with me, he did not mince his words and I was just too sensitive. I felt judged by him in many ways, judged by everyone and of course I wanted to hide it all, hide everything that had happened but that was not possible, I had to face it.

Thankfully my relationship with my mother is healthy now, she acknowledges  that when my sisters and I were growing up she could be irascible and identified that it stemmed from her relationship with her father who was always screaming at home, it left her terrified and unwittingly she emulated this model of parenting. I have learnt from the past and don’t shout in front of the children, they are happy and vibrant and thriving, there is no need for patterns of childhood to be repeated.

EMDR seemed to be the right treatment, I would stick with it, bit by bit I was getting stronger and yes, my artist friend, despite his talents, I would have to let him go. He would be my last trauma bond and my brain would recalibrate and no longer be addicted to the chemicals that it had fed off for most of my life. It was not going to be easy - that’s for sure -  but with patience and persistence and support and critically, EMDR, it was possible to break the trauma bond for good.

#traumabonds #emdr

[alinaaaa914]

My Approach in Mental Health With An Ounce of Self-Love - -

When you take a step into Mental Health you almost feel as trapped as having to quarantine for fourteen days, to almost months leading into years. Ever pictured this lifestyle, I didn’t actually, in my existence but I treated it as a learning motive into becoming the new woman I almost always dreamt of becoming. As the experience progresses, I can share a few of my very own steps that hit home in many shapes and forms leading me into the much happier and carefree soul that I have always been and how it has shaped my happiness. 

As I go on, I have to mention that during these times I thought it was impossible to accomplish the lifestyle I wanted and dreamt of for so long. I am still working towards it, but I am progressing toward the right path and direction I aspire to be in. 

For starters, I was working two part-time jobs that were insane to me. I was receiving minimum wage at fifteen dollars bi-weekly and bought outside food every day. In one of my positions, I worked at a sports club in which I was able to workout. That helped balance most things until I discovered a youth worker position that led me into a world that I thought I would never imagine. Gratitude and Growth are a few skills I have attained through working with all sorts of communities in the school district. Due to the pandemic, I later lost that position and it struck me personally and internally. I needed to keep thriving in other ways. It was not the end of the world, even though it felt so. 

During early March, I felt a bit light-headed and decided that it was best to take the next workday off. That canceled workday turned into unemployment benefits. I have been unemployed since and I have turned into the best version of myself I must say. The process is about flourishing into the woman I’ve become, and through this journey, there have been rough patches, but I knew within myself to better my wellbeing. I had suffered from anxiety, I went through moments where I wanted to end my life but thankfully I did no self-harm. My mental health was triggered tremendously. At that point in my life, I knew I needed to make internal, powerful changes to get through these times. I always felt alone, like no one was near me, I held everything in from those who I loved dearly and was always to myself. When in moments like this, I tried different ways to help but at that point, nothing was working for me. I slept a lot, I was questioning everything from love to even myself and how I looked in the mirror. That was something I almost always struggled with as a Latina woman and am progressing at loving myself more now. The lifestyle I pictured equals what I have attained through this pandemic. It was something I was missing entirely. I have learned so much and focused only on what is beneficial to me now and long term. 

Of course, I get concerned with finances but keeping a thorough strategy in savings is what works best. Out of this, a plus I gained is getting more in tune with myself, spiritually wise. Finding and reaching for that relationship with God helps guide me and become a lot more thankful for all that is before me and to come. With this, I was able to open up on matters I thought I could never open up. Sticking to my true self and what is true is what makes me the stronger individual. It is what grounds all the sorrows and opposite-minded thoughts that I have had built up since birth. The results are endless where there is so much in the world to have faith in and trust every step of the way. 

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For those of you reading this, I would love to share an abundance amount of tips that may help you: 

1. Self Awareness 

2. Ideas

3.Consistency

4. Music

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Self- Awareness: Getting in tune with every ounce of yourself from your childhood past and understand yourself through literature, disabilities, qualities you love within yourself, and those you want a future with. This alone helps shape your true self and it is entirely important and essential to learn about and get accustomed to who you are inside and out. 

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Ideas: Find those that you might think of that will help you, yourself. No-one but yourself. Some I recommend are Positive Affirmations, Journaling, Scrapbooking, fruitful activities, and Testing your IQ. Let it be something that makes you comfortable as if sleeping in your favorite sweatshirt or blanket. Keep in mind, you do not need any opinions from those who you care for or love, this is your moment and your time to flourish on your own, it is how you want it to be.  

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Consistency: This factor is the most effective, but it does take time and work. It is the only way you can progress as a whole. My advice, do it without thinking about it. I am a strong thinker myself, but once you entertain your intended daily routines and do things effortlessly you will see what I mean. You must take whatever you decide for yourself. It is your time. Anything you lay your eyes on you need to keep it constant, it is what keeps your mind and train of thought forward. 

Music: Selecting various amounts of relaxing songs or even sounds. Some I recommend are white noise sounds, instrumental, nature-like sounds, waves. These kinds of sound effects may seem weird to the ear, but do come with a benefit, trust me. It is time to get out of your comfort zone. 

#self healing #selflove #personal #story #selfawareness #depress #pandemic #self comfort

[crackcrocs]

DEATH WILL ONLY BE THE BEGINNING #9

This is to narcissistic mothers/ parents & anyone who is willing to understand.

(Written by me-for and through the lens of my dear friend, i wish you nothing but freedom from her chains. i wish you TLC)

Their ability to make everyone think they’re loving parents.

Their ability to make their kids believe that abuse is normal.

Their ability to make you believe you owe them everything.

Their ability to make themselves believe that they are right.

Their ability to turn the tables and make you believe that it was your fault.

All of this rings so true.

They do make you feel crazy; they suck the energy and ability to reason logically right out of you- and, by very nature of their narcissism, it never occurs to them that *they* might be the problem.

You can’t expect a relationship to happen with someone highly dysfunctional. how do you stoop down to the level of someone who aside from work & put all energy into keeping up an appearance can only abuse substance, speak to empty friends & post garbage.

In truth, I think the alcoholism is a symptom of her larger mental illness or narcissistic personality disorder- but it’s no excuse. Her parenting is unreliable, inconsistent, and unpredictable. There never is a sense of safety and consistency, allowing me to thrive.

I’m told to forgive & keep peace & ignore all your craziness. All the advice I've been getting on dealing with a narcissistic mother has been saying to avoid her as much as possible, or to try communicate & ‘keep peace’ as if I haven’t tried to communicate, as if I’m purposely singling her out from our already empty relationship. Well now I'm stuck at home all day, or every household or friend I bring over, she decides to involve. So much for distancing myself.  The worst part is she isn't even doing it herself, she just sits around watching tv, having friends over & phoning everyone while Im expected to clean up after her and "contribute" to the family/ financially support my self for college.

- Yes, absolutely, I am the crazy one. You know what, I’m not even going to deny it, I probably have a ton of issues, most of them mental. But guess where they came from? Guess who made those problems worse and maybe even helped create them? No mom, you’re not to blame for everything or the “war in Iraq” as you so eloquently put it. But you are to blame for some it, at the very least. it’s time to take account & I will no longer be made to feel like the obligated for for an entitled narc.

I feel your claws sinking in less and less.  You no longer have me in chains, I will break free from your emotional bondage even if it takes me seeming boring & silencing myself around you to not endure & tolerate your nonsense. Your words no longer fill me with despair like they once did.

This year long cold shoulder would have once filled me with anxiety but now all I feel is bliss. I no longer feel jealous when others talk about their seemingly perfect parents because I may not have that luxury but what I do have is a chance to be a "perfect parent" myself potentially one day. To be everything you couldn't and wouldn't somewhere far away and isolated from your poison.

I wonder how you feel...  but I simply can’t understand or pretend to care anymore. I’m tired of putting energy into a source that doesn’t put out. When children don't talk to you unless prompted- it’s because there is nothing to be said after the plenty opportunities given to converse truly & openly.

No I don’t want to speak to your 9th friend on the phone today again about surface level things just to please you. No I don’t want to come socialise with your drunk friends & be spoken to like a child

When you have to tell yet another lie to yet another friend to mask the evidence of a broken home When you look in the mirror and only see insecurities When you realise there's no one around you and can't figure out why When you tear down someone close yet again, to feel good about yourself  I wonder how you feel, I wonder if you feel, I wonder if you can...

my mom pushes me away but doesnt wanna let me leave. she doesn’t want to take into account that she pushed me to this extent. part of growth is being able to communicate your emotions properly. how can a whole 43 year old be unable to do so? I Vocalize when I’m not okay with something. Communication helps people avoid being uncomfortable, easily triggered, hostile, or passive aggressive with people. her communication is one sided and I’m the only one who gets to listen while she’s the only one who gets to talk, otherwise I’m ‘answering back’ or ‘telling a woman what to do’ even though I talk sense and out of respect in my responses or when I do try speak.

Worse yet I have to go BACK to the emotionally abusive situation that I basically fled.

What really bugs me is when you’ve given someone so many chances to do better and change. But then once you get tired of their antics, you try to move on and they continually try to reel you back in. Not even trying to change, but instead *trying* to reel you back in for their benefit. It’s unhealthy and traumatizing to say the least.

I guess i should be glad your swinging moods and emotions taught me to manage mine from young. I should be glad that I had to teach myself not to care about what you said to me and what you thought about me. I should be overjoyed that the side effect was me not caring about what anyone said or thought and basically becoming an inert emotionless void. I should be thankful that I always look fine even when I’m in pain and feeling like death and I’m capable of putting up with things that would send any sane person off the edge.

relationships are so much healthier when the goal is to experience life together and not to try to make the person into who you want them to be or to make them do what you want them to do. In my case my mother has de masculated me over the years making me soft and obedient, for her own selfish gain of having a man worship her. she decided since she doesn’t have a man, or never managed to find someone stay at home that’s he truly connected to, she’s decided the man that’s going to worship her will be me- her son. Since I resemble my father who she was in love with, she will always talk bad on me as she resents my father for not wanting her.

through gaslighting me over the years, it’s become harder to speak up, I even feel embarrassed to tell my dad even though that’s probably the only thing that will make her open her eyes and get clean. my pot is boiling though. Independence is obviously healthy but when it gets to the point where i find it challenging to actually be able to even admit that i might need assistance in this situation,  problems arise. And for what? Why I’m I protecting her image? I’ve been taught to & I’m a respectable young man who won’t take joy from her exposure, but I don’t take joy from preserving information & keeping it all inside to deal with myself. I’ve become so hard on myself and still pushing through-it’s not easy, people still expect me to be a super heroe all the time. I have a hard time opening up, allowing people to help me in whatever I’m doing. I hate even admitting I need help most times. I wish I’d been taught early what my mother learned late, thankfully I was observant, self taught & still willing to learn- thankfully I’m not a follower & I know right from wrong.

The worst part about looking at the future and trying to imagine it full of hope, light and emotional health is knowing that you'll always have the scars. Emotional abusers aren't supposed to leave scars but mine managed to. And in my mother's usual style it can even be passed off as unintentional. In my case it was actually supposed to a kind act which ended badly in the way that only events in my life can seem to end.

All the phone calls to your friends, you continuously fake talk about me on a nonexistent relationship. it’s sad how you need to phone 100 people in a day and can only hold the same surface level chats. I wonder if you can grip the fact that nobody ever wants to help you with anything. you’re lucky they even listen and you’re lucky they only know your side of the story every time. you’re a great potter & can mould situations.

It’s sad that if you sense the slightest hint that people do not approve of your estrangement and they are not going to be there for your nonsense, you stir the pot and involve and buss peoples names, further spinning your web of lies.

All the pity you came to relish over the years as single mother warrior extraordinaire would simply dry up. Any attempts to paint me, your only child in a negative light would seem simply monstrous if I exposed you, but I maintain respect, bite my tongue & hold my head up because my real mother figure taught me that.

But really you have to keep up the pretense to your friends, that I was an insubordinate, ungrateful bitch of a problem child and you were a glorious brave single mother at her wits end just trying to make things work. even with the mural I painted, you forced me to mention the single mother narrative; as if that had anything to do with my art piece. I mean how selfish can you be? the art peace was to represent Sheku Bayou & the BLM movement, I didn’t even want to put my real name- I wanted to put my instagram page associated with my art because business is business and personal is personal. but to toot your horn, I added a whole separate paragraph because you wanted your name to be connected to my art piece as though I’m some sort of celebrity and it was my claim to fame. the single mother narrative is bullshit, I know tonnes of single african parents that know how to step up when it’s time to be a mother, but that’s something you’ve never known how to do. I remember you drunk the day I came here and I will never forget the words ‘I will drink myself to death if I want to’ I don’t have sympathy anymore and I’m not a saviour, I have tried and tried through hiding alcohol, attempting to converse & get her to cut down; but you can only bring a horse to the water not to drink it. how is a teenager meant to know how to stop an alcoholic junkie? I’m her son you say? If she truly cared and wanted to fix up, I would be one thing to stop her I thought.

my mother is an alcoholic. an addict. she refuses to wear those labels, but this has far exceeded the occasional ‘binge’ ‘sesh’ or ‘Prosecco party’ .Throughout middle school and high school, I would guess that half or so of the days out of the year she spent in a wine haze. Even my constant begging her to stop drinking did not stop it. Pouring her wine down the drain or hiding it made her angry and transitioned to mental and phsyical abuse. She became increasingly angry and I aged and entered high school but she was always this way since I came really. It was during this time that I would lock the doors to my room and try to hide from her in there. I still barricade my room door to this day just for my own peace. Despite all the horrendous things she did, every once in a while she did give me money, and this gets dangled over my head RELENTLESSLY... as if money buys love.

I needed to get some outside reassurance that I'm sane. Thankfully now I know and all I can do is try stay in my lane, can’t argue with a supposed adult with a brain that resembles a wall or a child.

People who were emotionally abused have spent far too long defending themselves. Justifying their own feelings. Trying to make others see and understand what they went through is a task. Abusive parents are very good at manipulating. that’s why I have ceased contact with this toxic person, i do not owe anyone an explanation.Doesn’t matter if they are a family member or close family friend. Doesn’t matter if they are a friend or acquaintance of yours. I’ve learned just to be boring , save everything interesting and beautiful about myself for those who deserve it.

#LCZABIBU #deathwillonlybethebeginning

[missartus]

Merry Christmas!

Figured that I should write a post at Christmas, given all the chaos that’s been 2020 lol. Well, for one, Covid’s still here and so it’s still been pretty hard for everyone. Personally, my Christmas obviously changed in a way that it’s more chill this time around. Not that I’m complaining ‘cause this is probably my most preferred way of celebrating the holidays, but I’d rather have a chill Christmas because I wanted it and not because the circumstances forced us to. I didn’t even bother to dress up nor put on some makeup because I was really lazy to do so, and to be honest, the Christmas spirit isn’t really as felt this time around. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who feels this. 

Anyway, I didn’t really intend to make a depressing post LOL. It’s the other way around, actually. I’ve been meaning to write something for a few days now but I’ve been lazy. I actually wanted to say that given all the chaos, thankfully I had a couple of things that kept me sane. They’re mostly new hobbies and interests, and some may come off as a shock, even. So here are my life updates so far. A list of things that helped me survive 2020 😌

Baking

It started with a box of pancake mix. A few months back, I was supposed to make some pancakes for an afternoon snack, but then I was kinda tired with eating pancakes that I wondered if there is any other way I can turn that mix into. I eventually ended up with these hard chocolate turnovers lmao. After that, I was suddenly baking almost every week. So far, I’ve baked coffee buns, lemon bars, pandesal!, pound cakes, cookies (ofc), and cinnamon rolls. I’m targeting to go for naked cakes but I am yet to buy an electric mixer. For someone who hates measurements and all, it’s a shock for me to be into baking. But it’s been so therapeutic for me. The kneading of the dough, the whisking, mixing, the rise, the waiting on the oven — so zen. I guess, it’s cause it keeps my mind off of things, and whenever I bake, I’m just so focused on what I’m doing. So it’s like, I’m in my own bubble of productivity for a long while. Also, I’d say it kinda helps with my self-esteem, as baking has allowed me to prove to myself that I can do something delish. Whenever I look at the finished products, I couldn’t believe that I, me, Mich, me, did that! I think that happened when I made pandesals and when I really liked the cinammon rolls. I was like, “Omg, I can’t believe I did this!” Aside from my fam, I’ve sent a few of my pastries to friends as well, and some say that I should start a business already lol. But that’s so far from my mind right now. I mean, I’d want to, in the future. But not sometime soon. I still want to enjoy this season where I’m plainly learning and enjoying the process of baking. I don’t, and am not, prepared for the pressure and hassle of it all yet. 🤪

Workout

I’ve been working out for a few years now but I wasn’t as consistent as how I’ve been the past couple of months. I used to workout every freaking day, but lately it would just be about thrice or four times a week. My past blog posts would give you a hint about my relationship with my body and food. It hasn’t been really nice in general, but working out really does help me improve my mindset towards my body image. Admittedly, I began working out because I wanted to lose weight, but eventually (and thankfully), it transformed into me working out because it makes me strong and it benefits my mental health a lot. I do a variety, although most times I’d do cardio, then I’ll just pair it up with either weights or another round of cardio but dance.

The process has been fun, and I don’t really pressure myself or limit myself when it comes to food. I still eat whatever’s there, but right now it’s all portion control, really. In all fairness, I think because I’ve been working out, my appetite isn’t as huge as it used to be. I get fuller fast these days, and I rarely binge-eat, unless I re-stock on Korean grocery food hahahaha. Anyway speaking of Korean, here’s my last interest update...

BTS

Yup. As in that K-pop boyband. As in Bangtan Sonyeondan. As in that band who’s taking over the world. What a plot twist, right? I’ve never been into K-pop to begin with, so BTS (and eventually, K-pop in general) is probably my biggest musical plot twist so far. I initially was supposed to write a whole separate blog post about this (because that’s how OBSESSED I AM WITH BTS) but I figured that I’ll just include them in this “life update” entry. But for real, it began back in October, when I saw this screenshot of RM’s WeVerse comment/reply to a fan. I’m pasting it here for reference lol.

For some reason, I was really impressed after seeing this. I’ve known the band for a while already. I know how big they are and I even have friends who are huge fans. I’ve seen a couple of their online content in the past as well, but I think it was this image that made me really realize why they’ve been getting so much attention and why their fanbase just keeps on growing. This was the first time that I “got it”, if you know what I mean. Anyway, a bit after that my ARMY friends messaged me and I was immediately swooped into the world of BTS. I don’t regret any of it though haha! I have so much feelings about this topic (lololol) but I’ll try to hold back. Who knows, I might continue with that separate blog post anyway 💁‍♀️ My bias is Namjoon (my goodness, this man is such a dream), while my bias wrecker is Jimin. Although I think my bias wrecker changes everyday now lmao. 😂 I’ll say this though, it wasn’t their pretty faces that got me. If anything, I think that really comes as secondary, because what made me an Army was their talent, their story, and their character. These boys are really men of substance, and their songs and advocacy can attest to how principled they are. Their songs have also helped me so much as I am still in the process of improving myself, my mental health, and all these introspective things. I remember this one time where I bawled my eyes out when I was reading through the English translation of Answer: Love Myself. In a year when I almost lost myself again due to how depressing this year was, it feels good to root for something, or in this case, someone, and see them flourish in success. They really started at the bottom, and I guess in a way their story also inspires me to keep on doing what I’m doing, knowing that someday, everything will make sense and I’ll finally make it. 

BTS also led me to listen to other K-pop acts as well such as Day6 (another fave!), Monsta X, Shinee, IU, Henry, and BlackPink (very recently hahaha) Ok, I’ll stop right there. 😬 Funny how I just cannot get the K-pop hype for so many years, and now I’m genuinely enjoying it. It’s become my go-to work soundtrip also as I don’t get carried away by singing along to the lyrics as, ofc, it’s in a different language lol.

Plants

I remember last year when my colleagues at work gave me this plant and they assured me that it won’t die but it did. It kinda made me think that I don’t have a green thumb and that I can never maintain a plant. But guess what, I have about 7 plants now and THEY’RE ALL THRIVING SO WELL. I’m so invested in these plant babies and I’m so proud of myself that they’re all so alive and doing well. There were some scares, I admit. Like this one time when I attempted to re-pot my Syngonium Arrowhead and it almost died lol but I re-did it and thankfully it resurrected hahahahaha. Again, just like what I said about BTS and my baking, my plants are also testament to how it feels nice to root for (no pun intended) something and see them thrive, and how it feels so satisfying and reassuring to see something that I’ve been taking care of live healthy and happy. 

So yeah, there’s that. 

Those are what my life has been circling around these days. As I’ve said, I’m very grateful that I got into these things, little as they may seem as compared to others. But hey, they make me happy, and I think at this point in time, as long as something makes you happy and sane, that’s all that matters. You do you, girl. Wow, I can’t believe that I wrote this long. It’s been a while since I did! Anyway, I’m gonna end this here now as it’s getting late and I still have stuff to do. 

Merry Christmas!

#rantsandjoys

[soulsmuses]

I am tentatively returning to my main blog. My underswap blog is going to remain inactive for the foreseeable future (possible to change). I want to thank those of you that reached out to me, comforted and encouraged that I take time away. It was something I badly needed. I did write a short explaination as to my leaving but I’ll elaborate more.

What lead up to my leaving?

Depression. Honestly the main reason, plain and simple. Mentally and emotionally it has been a struggle since last summer with no longer being able to work due to a chronic illness and other illnesses. I am now currently reliant on my family for support and it not only hurts my pride, but takes a blow mentally with “I am supposed to be supporting myself and thriving by now”. And the reality is I cannot currently.

Illness. I have good days, I have bad days. Mine has affected my just about every part of my body. I have physical pain constantly, and there are days where the pain can extend to a week or so. Sleeping is one of the ways I handle the pain, I sleep A LOT. And when I’m awake, I do not want to spend every waking moment online. I have other irl things I want and need to attend to.

Anxiety. Yes I’m diagnosed with it, have been for 8 years. It chokes you, it freezes you up or makes you want to run away from stressful situations. I had been putting off my characters and stories and rp interactions that it got to the point where I would feel a panic rising inside. It was easier to step away than “fix the mess”. Fan blogs are supposed to be fun. Interacting with others should be relaxing and fun. I was in a mental spiral because I no longer felt that security and comfort.

Dislike for my own artistic abilities. I am not that great at cartooning. But I began to believe that others were holding expectations of me to continuously churn out art and creating. That I HAD to create here or else I was letting my followers down. I’ve been struggling with liking and even attempting to create anything since my senior year of college. I was chastised by my professor who was supposed to be supporting and guiding me in my last semester for MY art show. Instead she said everything I produced was “wrong”. That I was a fine artist, not an illustrator. Nothing I made was even remotely satisfactory to her. The same was with the other two students in the class. We all had to kiss ass and do whatever the hell she deemed “correct” in creating art. We were all miserable. I graduated in tears and a feeling like I was not good enough to be an artist or even try to continue in the art field. “After you graduate, you never have to touch art again.” That was her advice in the end. I was on year 5 of being undiagnosed with a chronic illness and believing the problems I was having was because of me being a failure. It was a fight to survive college entirely, and that last year knocked the wind out of me. I put other people’s expectations above my own when it comes to art. It’s something I’m still struggling to get better with mentally and it will not happen overnight.

Covid. The world is facing a pandemic. We are ALL being effected by it. There are people from my childhood that have died. My uncle likely had it early on but thankfully recovered. My parents are older and I have a compromised immune system. We are literally in the high risk percentile and going out even to the grocery store has me fearful. That stress is each and every time we have to leave the house.

My dad is sick. His health is declining with age and my mother and I have seen it over the last two years. It’s harder for him to talk at times, to remember things. He also had hip surgery recently and could barely walk by June. His surgery was put off from spring time due to covid. This is not easy for me to watch. And it’s harder for my mom. I’m trying to be there for her more and to help him out with tasks. I cannot be online as much when I am focusing on irl issues that demand my attention.

Fandom drama. While I don’t participate in it, I see it plenty. If friends are involved in it I worry and try to keep up with what’s happening. I want to support them if the topic is really bothering them, but drama is hella exhausting. I don’t want to come online knowing the environment is only going to stress me out.

Seeking a new life path. With my chronic illness, I’ve come to accept that I cannot pursue my lifelong dream career or live where I was happiest. The job was too physically demanding in which I could not meet quota, and where I lived was far too hot and humid for my body to handle. I had collapsed once prior and had several near collapses. While living back with parents again, I’ve had to replan and rethink my life. What am I going to pursue now? Do I take new courses? Where do I find internships or volunteer opportunities that will benefit me towards a new career? Now add COVID restrictions on top. The US is currently sitting at 5,400,00+ cases since this started. My state has 83,000+ cases thus far. My county alone has 1,500+ cases. And things are not slowing down. People have been let go or furloughed from their jobs. 600+ teachers in one school tested positive with the virus last week. Schools and colleges that opened are now rapidly closing. I won’t be getting even a taste of a possible new career hands on for a very, very long time. I learn best in-person and hands on. Currently I’m still looking at online courses, however my topic of interest is very hands on. So courses are extremely slim finding.

So why am I telling this publicly? Because apparently there are people that cannot understand why I have disappeared for periods of time and why I did not go into depth about wtf was going on IRL. I do not owe a single person my private life matters. If I say, “It’s been hard” or “I needed time away”, that does not automatically mean “I am avoiding you for something better”. Or that I don’t want to hang out with you. I am an introvert and very private person. I do not like dumping my lifes problems on others because I damn well know we are all going through more shit than usual right now all across the world.

I have been aggressively and passive-aggressively approached by others for being away. For not responding within a week, a couple days, or even within a day. I have irl things going on as do you. I am not going to assume the worst out of a person simply because they do not respond quickly. It was everything listed above and the negative confrontations that drove me away. The last one being on my birthday. I was with my parents and wanted to focus my time with them. In the evening I’d check back here to send out thank you’s and catch up on any chats I had missed. I had also been out of cell range which prompted me to put my phone away and decided not to come back to it for a while. Honestly I was disheartened and exhausted to come back to a passive-aggressive remark about not responding soon enough for their taste. I finally had enough with the stress listed above and said “fuck tumblr. I’m out.”

If you’ve taken the time to read all of this or even skim it, thank you. I hope this clears up why I’ve been gone, why I left, and why I am tentative to return at all. I miss the positive interactions I had here prior. I miss seeing my friends works and supporting them. But I will be going at my own pace. I don’t expect people to be there for me in every waking moment, as I should not have to expect to do the same for others. Nor should anyone have to explain themselves to finite detail as to why they need time away or do not respond quickly. We are all going through shit, more than usual for most. Give a little curtesy and don’t be so quick to assume the problem is you.

[modern-oedipus]

Good News!

Despite the hectic life of 2020, I was able to make some holiday plans yesterday! I also finally arranged a meeting with my best best best friend that is my #1 forever and always, so I’m extremely happy! I was feeling severe exhaustion and burn-out in this summer season (with the internships & self-isolation) so travelling will be a breath of fresh air to me. (On a side note, I’ll be out in the nature, camping with a tent. I actually am in scouts ever since middle school, so jokes on you, I like that. I’ll bring my dog too, if he can adapt it, so I’m hype and thankfully it won’t be as risky that way. I used to enjoy hotel-vacations in previous summers but let 2020 be this.)  Which means, I have a really limited time to do everything on my mind, since the I won’t work on the holiday season. I wanted to some cleaning- both mental and physical cleaning. Physical cleaning is mostly done, I cleaned everywhere to the detail and my house is looking great! As for mental cleaning, I’m reading this therapy book my therapist recommended, and I am taking some time to do the exercises on the book. We can have a follow up therapy meeting once in a month, which shall be soon, so I’m looking forward to it.  As for the rest of “mental clutter”, there has been many things- my replies, my texting/pending messages, calling/checking up on loved ones, filling my agenda, following my webinars, continuing my gene analysis, continuing my research for the article, fic updates, writing, drawing (jokes on you I am in mood to draw recently) and spending more time with loved ones. I’ve done the loved ones part- of course you can’t just “be done with it” but I’ve given quality time to most of my loved ones this week. So now I’ll just focus on my projects & everything online like roleplay replies and getting back to texts and everything, and hopefully, hopefully, as my irl duties can save time, I’ll be clean and fresh! Mentally!  I am enjoying the process of doing it, as well as the result, so it’s not me complaining or anything. I am HYPE! Let’s continue to thrive making 2020 our year as much as the health permits!

#nila stuff #motivation #to do list

[bitchylittlepsycho69]

entry #1  - Him

Content Warning: suicide, depression and self harm. If you're sensitive to these topics, and you aren't a total masochist about it, maybe you should avoid reading this one.

this is my first entry.

 I want to know if other people feel the same way.  

         is it bad that he still says “kill yourself, look for a reason to” even if I turned a corner, stayed sober, stopped cutting, or had absolutely no reason to feel that way? It’s been since I was 10 that I felt the need to cut, the little voice inside my head saying do it, it’s worth it, you will be at peace, unfortunately I am not as selfish as I thought  and I think of my mom every single fucking time... I don’t really no what reason I had to cut myself at that age, but all I remember was the first time he appeared. the little voice inside my ear. Him.

   I wasn’t really a enjoyable person to be around growing up, always had problems with friends or my weight or just being able to communicate with people in a certain way, my mom used to say I was just quiet, but honestly I was being consoled by that stupid voice in my head

 ‘LIE, CUT, DON��T EAT, YOU WILL FEEL BETTER LISTEN TO ME JOANNE’.

 I don’t know why... but his voice sounded so soothing until you stop listening to him. then he gets violent and aggressive.  

 ‘MAYBE IT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE WORTHLESS AND YOU NEVER FUCKING LISTEN JOANNE

 ugh shut up guy.  

 After I went into high school. He broke loose. I was my own demon for a while, I started getting into things I never did in my life, (drinking smoking snorting fighting getting arrested the whole shebang) but it’s not like I wasn’t enjoying it. I would drink or do drugs with my new friends to forget about what I’ve been through. like turning over a new leaf. but that was toxic. and on a daily basis I would drink smoke cut repeat. day after day it was like an addiction for pain and forgetfulness. After grade 9 summer 2012, he came back. stronger. he knew every weakness of mine, I am him, he is me. he knows everything now. just when I thought he was gone. he came right back.

  I got expelled. sent a girl to the hospital, was arrested, charged. you know it. after that I was sent to counseling but still didn’t go so, I breached my probation, twice. all I remember is that giggle that me and him would do when we would get in trouble do something ridiculous like spray paint the water tower or steal from tip jars and from grocery stores, just stupid shit. I loved the attention and so did he. but he knew my future. and at that time, I didn't. he was up to something. but 16-year-old Joanne, was fucking clueless.

 years are passing by same old shit just a different day and my life got boring so demon left for a while, I stopped cutting got into habits like working ffs. my demon left for a while when it was 2015, when I first met the love of my life, knowing I’m manipulative I did everything in my power to keep him around, sometimes healthy, most of the time not. but eventually that relationship came to came to an end and we lost contact.  but HE came back. angry. and violent, and ready to play. I grabbed whatever drug I had in my cabinet, took it all. drank until I woke up in the middle of a park on the opposite side of the city when I was just drinking by myself at home, got a 15000 loan and spent it on blow Xanax bottles and cases of liquor, I paid last 3 months rent so I could pretty much trash it for 3 months then find another dump to live in. I drank and drove everywhere sometimes I was black out and still was lucky to make it home. but I didn’t care. I’m ready to die. he knows it, and I know it. and on that day in June 1, 2018 we agreed with each other for the first time. he knew everything now to get rid of me. he knew the alcohol would stay he knew I wouldn’t stop he knows I wouldn’t get help.

 ‘Now its time Joanne. now there’s nothing more you have left, you’re 20k in debt, your family hates you your friends tolerate because you have the money, you had the stuff, but where is everybody now? you were meant to die alone. Just fucking do it’

 “Okay”

 After that somebody called the cops on me, they showed up and I was there puking and passed out, only I didnt have any cuts on my arm, pills and cocaine were scattered and mixed together vodka was all over me and I had bleach; unopened, thankfully. Now if that wasn’t rock bottom. Then there is definitely a lot more to come... because I’m still falling.

 got on medication, trazodone mostly, some anti depressants, but I wasn’t allowed to have to many, because I am a substance abuser. I could hear him mocking me from the distant “fucking pussy”. He would say it to make me drink to taunt and every time that happened, I would drink and drive, and guess who has a DUI now. After the meds started kicking in, he fucked off. But I stopped taking my meds right after. Is it bad that I missed him?

 He left and I didn’t hear from him until September 2019. But that’s another story. Thanks for reading.

  my depression will always find a way back. there is no escaping my life. but at least I’m not alone, I have him. he will always be there when you fall, to cradle you in your darkest times, to eagerly make you want  feel the endorphins breaking through your wrist, that feeling you’ve been thriving for, the art painted with a blade that you found in your dads tool box, the tears that you shed of every minute of everyday, the things you go through. he will be right where he needs to be. With you. Always.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If any of you are going through something and need to talk to somebody or if somebody you know is going through something there are many support services that are here to help.  

IN CANADA:

Canadian Suicide Prevention Service (CSPS): French or English: toll-free 1-833-456-4566 Available 24/7

 Kids Help Phone is Canada’s only 24/7, national support service. We offer professional counselling, information and referrals and volunteer-led, text-based support to young people in both English and French.Whether by phone, text, mobile app or through our website, you can connect with us whenever you want, however you want. KIDS HELP PHONE (20 years or youngers): 1-800-668-6868 (Online or on the Phone)

UNITED STATES:

United States Suicide Prevention Lifelines are available 24/7 Call National Hope Helpline at 1-800-SUICIDE (1-800-784-2433) or the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (1-800-273-8255) or in Spanish, 1-888-628-9454.

Center for Mental Health Services (CMHS), of the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA), maintains a mental health services locator, which you can use to help find services, facilities and resources in your state. 

#dark #notes #thoughts #depression #suicide #escapingreality #toronto #drugs #alcoholic #SAD #reality #diary #suicidal #cutting #self harm #Joannesdiary

[vdayucla]

A letter for 2 October 2020

Dear journal,

I got big news this week. It's not about my ex-partner, though she's inadvertently involved in ways I'll describe later. Anyway, I've tried since August to get a job at a company that provides support for expectant or breastfeeding mums. This week, exactly 2 months later, I finally got a verbal offer.

I haven't announced it to many people yet, because I want a formal offer in my hand first. I've seen offers rescinded before, back in March, when I almost got a job at a union but a brainless reference bungled my reference check and my offer was withdrawn. The breastfeeding company is doing a reference check on me right now, but I have no reason to think it'll go badly like last time. I listed my ex-partner as a reference, and she's pledged to give a good reference, though I'm sure she's annoyed at needing to give one. Still, it shows she's able to be civil.

I'm getting this job under unprecedented circumstances, though. First, I'm surprised I got a job in a pandemic-wracked recession where almost a tenth of Americans are unemployed. My current employer already slashed my salary twice in an effort to stay afloat. My pay covers rent, food and nothing more. Thankfully I still get health insurance, but obviously I wanted better for myself, and now I have a job that at least intersects with my background in maternal healthcare.

Second, this is the first time I've gotten a job whilst working another job. In my previous four job hunts, unemployment forced me to hunt. This time, underemployment forced my hand, but at least I had some income to allay my desperation and keep myself level-headed. And I managed to find a job amidst a crushing recession.

Third, this job will be wholly remote. This company has never had a physical office. So I'm faced with a weird opportunity: I could continue working my current job whilst also working this remote job through the Internet.

I'm considering it because I don't do much at my current job. My salary was slashed twice because business has slowed, and it shows in my workload. Before, I spent hours each day on writing product descriptions for new products and launching them on Amazon. Now I barely have anything to write or launch. I come to the office, answer emails, write some copy, and then do my own stuff for the rest of the day.

Besides, my office is mere miles from my flat. It's more comfortable than working from my bedroom, where I barely have a chair and my laptop is slow. My office has a padded chair, fast computer, two monitors and even AC. Heck, I have more privacy at my office than at home, where I live with a creepy 50-year-old who believes conspiracies and never cleans the kitchen after using it. (I have no qualms about eating from his pantry, a la Parasite.) I think working my new, remote job from my poorly paid but comfortable office might be doable.

I'll see if I can make it work. If I can't, I'll quit my job and deal with the First World problem of working from home with a slow laptop . Either way, my income will improve. I'll finally be able to eat and thrive instead of surviving, at least financially.

I'm trying to thrive emotionally too. I've been depressed since July, when my relationship suddenly collapsed over the phone within minutes and I didn't have a chance to say goodbye or hold my partner one last time. I know my actions caused the breakup, but my friends think she overreacted and is partly to blame.

Regardless, I need to boost my self-esteem, and I'm trying by dating people through OkCupid. It's as full of ghosts and flakes as before, but this time I'm trying to maintain discipline and message only people who aren't too attractive, to decrease the chances of rejection. According to past acquaintances, I'm attractive "for my race", but my race in general isn't considered to be "sexy". So I try to find people with extensive education because I hypothesise that they're less likely to stereotype me. So far I've had one virtual date per week. We'll see if I can maintain that.

But what I want more than to date strangers on the Internet is to mend my relationship with my ex-partner. She has her negatives, but I think her positives outweigh her negatives, and I want to at least nurture a friendship between us. Her birthday will be 9 days after the election, 1.5 months from now. I think I'll sing and send a song to her, as I have in the past, then ask if she's open to brunch at a lakeside cafe. If she rejects me, I guess friendship won't be possible. But if she accepts, maybe we can salvage something. We'll see.

But if I do find a new relationship through OkCupid instead, I know I'll want something different versus before. I want less jealousy. I want fewer arguments over having too many opposite-gender or too-attractive friends. I want someone who shows as much interest in my interests as I show in hers. I want someone who isn't so obsessed with her fertility that she thinks becoming pregnant is more important than finding a new job.

But that's in addition to her many good qualities too. I liked how she tried to bring me closer to her family. I liked how we made meals together. I liked how we inspired each other to be our best selves, physically through fitness or mentally by learning new things. I liked how we would awaken beside each other and start our days with lovely smiles. I loved our road trips to places we'd never experienced before.

This is a challenging time for me, emotionally. I'm just thankful that something in my life, i.e. my career, is going okay.

#PERSONAL

[oliverhqs]

✧ °˖ — ( casey deidrick. cis-male. he/him. ) looks like oliver carmichael just signed back in at the front desk. word around is, that they’re only staying at the northern star because his family took their annual family vacation to their manor and he decided this year he didn’t want to stay amongst his insufferable relatives for the duration of the trip, so he found somewhere much more relaxing to stay instead while he explores ireland by himself. apparently the twenty-seven year old can be a bit apathetic & opinionated. but their open-minded & relaxed personality usually makes up for it. i hear they like to play piano, paint, and read in their free time. it makes me think of them as a quiet mid-afternoon walk on the italian countryside, staying up throughout the entire night in a dimly lit room talking about books, philosophy, love, and the stars, & well loved sheet music sprawled all over the floor and desk.

hello potential, friends !! i’m late the to party as usual but this ball of anxiety goes by the name of rue ( she/her pronouns ) and i’ll be playing Angsty Boi™, oliver carmichael. if you would like to hit me up for plots / scream about connections all night long, please give this a big ole like and i’ll come bouncing like a happy ferret in the snow to your DMs !! under the cut, you’ll find a brief biography and stats about oli’s life. you can find all my connections here though if you want to check those out. can’t wait to start interacting !!

+ disclaimer: slight talks of cancer and mental health are mentioned below. read at your discretion.

layer one: the stats.

NAME. oliver alexander carmichael.

ALIAS. people usually just call him by oliver but sometimes oli makes an appearance.

TITLE. over time, he has proudly deemed himself an obsessive pizza addict, artistic nutcase, or one of the missing dead poets society members.

AGE. twenty-seven years old.

GENDER IDENTITY. cis-male.

PRONOUNS. he/him.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. predominately panromantic demisexual. it isn’t so much so that luca is completely disinterested in sex (he’s got a perfectly good libido, thank you very much), he just doesn’t find himself sexually attracted to people based on physical appearance or initial impressions. instead he finds personality, intellect, and existing emotional attachment considerably more compelling. the idea of intimacy with somebody he’s not close with rather repulses him.

CURRENT RESIDENCE. he currently lives in east village in new york but he travels quite often for his job, so residency usually fluctuates depending on how long he stays there. 

BIRTHPLACE. new york city, new york.

NATIONALITY. american.

RELIGION. he was raised roman catholic but converted to spiritual agnosticism when he was eighteen. he views that universal ethics and love are far more important than claims about any deity and trivialize the arguments supporting or rejecting such claims. to oliver, it doesn’t matter which religion someone might follow, nor does it matter whether or not someone believes in God. what matters is what someone does, not what they believe. he has his parents’ full support in his switch even though the rest of his family practices catholism.

SPOKEN LANGUAGES. english (fluent/main), french (fluent/2nd main), italian (still learning but can understand it quite well).

EDUCATION. graduated with a bachelors in music therapy and minor in visual arts at brown university.

PROFESSION. works as a freelancing artist in his spare time as he work full time as a music therapist.

layer two: about.

When someone hears the name Carmichael, they automatically think of words like prestigious, wealthy, and perfect. And who wouldn’t? With the father being a State’s Attorney and mother owning her own real estate business, you had to think like that. In the public eye the Carmichael family was flawless. Lilian was the always supporting wife who thrived in raising money for fundraisers and showing off her cooking skills and David was being a husband who brought home piles of money and was devoted to his family. Everyone wanted what they had. Oliver Carmichael was born into a world where perfection was of the utmost importance. The Carmichael family are one of those prestigious families that has always been full of wealthy and high-class snobs, and Oliver’s parents were no exception. He grew up learning how to be charming and handsome, and aware of his superiority over those of inferior to him. Oliver’s childhood years consisted of him sitting restless at various fancy parties and dinners, while his father kept him from all the treats so that he would grow up to be fit and strong. Oliver’s father was always cold and emotionally isolated from him; only after a perfect son to show off to the world.

He has a brother, who is three years younger than him, named Nathaniel. His relationship with his brother, however, is a bit estranged just like with their father. As much as he loves his brother and wishes they could see eye-to-eye, sometimes they tend to butt heads often. Whether that might mean your typical sibling arguments or full-on blown out fights, they just can’t seem to see get along.

As a young, restless little child, Oliver sought escape from his shallow, chilly life in the form of a friend. His friend taught him that there was such thing as warmth and friendliness, told him lots of stories of Greek mythology, and he learned that his father had been lying about “tactless individuals” being horrible people. However, when his father found out about his associations with his friend, within a week, the boy mysteriously disappeared. Since then, Oliver kept all his unapproved-of friends to himself. Unfortunately, as time went on, Oliver grew up to become a lot colder and more isolated like his father—leaving the feeling of pure joy of meeting that friend he met long ago, had vanished. With his family situation being completely dysfunctional and rottenly horrible, he never experienced what being happy was all about.

Sometimes calling someone selfish is a gross exaggeration, but in Oliver’s case its right on-point. Eventually in his early teens he became distracted, always preoccupied with his own affairs and matters of interest. Whether it was schoolwork, his multiple and usually explosive relationships, or his many existential crises, Oliver was one for waving people away and turning the conversation back on himself. This wasn’t necessary out of narcissism or some hidden agenda: Oliver genuinely doesn’t know who he is. Perpetually fidgeting and restless, it’s not uncommon to see him rapidly flicking a cigarette lighter, or playing with his hair, or bouncing on the balls of his feet. In high school he’s brilliant: it’s that simple. He is the golden boy. Prone to spilling into intellectual spiels - and labelled a know-it-all - he internalized everything, memorizing tiny details, eyes skipping here and there. His intelligence is among his most useful traits and is by far the thing he values most about himself. Much of his ego is built around the confidence that he is effortlessly smarter than almost anybody he encounters. Knowledge is power, and he weaponizes his superior intellect, using his brains more than brawn to protect himself and intimidate the people he doesn’t care for.

Although his parents were the bane of his experience 100% of the time, his mother wasn’t all that insufferable when she had her moments away from his father and not trying to be this pristine ‘perfect’ woman beside her husband. In fact, throughout his childhood she often encouraged Oliver’s belief in extraordinary things and hoped he had carried it throughout his life growing up. His mother had always made him promise to have courage and be kind to others, for—as she explained to him—kindness has power, and that she would see him through all the trials that life could offer, in life and death. Cancer/mental illness TW—when he was thirteen, his mother had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. Upon hearing the news, Oliver’s whole world clasped.

Not only was he at a pivotal stage in his life where everything was changing and becoming more stressful ( becoming a teenager, starting high school, going through puberty ), the only important person who had actually showed him any kind of love in his life had be claimed by the deadly disease altogether. So many thoughts and feelings were going through his mind at the time, that he ran himself physically sick and had experienced his first panic attack. He has since been medically diagnosed with panic disorder. Thankfully the cells on his mother’s cervix were diagnosed at precancerous stage and the doctors were able to treat it because it developed and spread. However, that didn’t and doesn’t stop Oliver from being in a constantly state of panic every time his mother so much as feels pain or coughs due to irrelevant reasons. The entire year had changed him and his family for a while.

Despite issues with his own family, Oliver has a lot of personal of his own he deals with. He is capable of enduing tremendous hardship. Though he may not handle difficulty in the healthiest or best way, often repressing emotion, he mostly like emerges on the other side. He doesn’t know how to express his emotions in a diplomatic way, but rather fumbles it all up and starts to ramble. Rarely opens up because of this. He usually distracts himself from his insufferable emotions with hobbies such as playing the piano, painting, and reading some of his favorite classics. After he moved out the house at eighteen to pursue college and became more independent, he started to come into his own style with his wardrobe. To put it simple, he’s like a hippie dippy child of the universe. No joke. No seriously, his place at home is full of sensual shit and art. It’s getting out of hand and somebody needs stop him soon. He strongly believes that art is an umbrella term that relates to expressing of oneself—not just through photography and painting—and that everyone has the freedom to express themselves however they please. Because of his beliefs, he chooses to break gender roles like bread and wears whatever the fuck he wants because yolo. His appearance pretty much represents his hippie dippy lifestyle with him wearing all sorts of hipster shit. His clothes can be very flowy like, but don’t let that fool you. He doesn’t miss the opportunity to represent his upper class within his style, so he does dress to impress, let me tell you. His hair color changes sometimes too depending on his mood but it’s generally never too eccentric.

After he graduated high school, he furthered his education at Brown University where he majored in Music Therapy and minored in Visual Arts. At the age of twenty-one he graduated and about 6 months later started working as a freelanced artist while working at children’s hospital as a music therapist.

#northernstarintro

[dangerouslyfantasticwizard]

How am I feeling?

My relationship with mental health.

I wanted to pen a little something to help shine a light on the big messy swirl that is my mind.

I have been depressed for a number of years, clinically diagnosed in around 2009 but I can’t tell you when it really started, and I agree with the idiom “It never gets better, it just gets easier".

I have struggled on and off for as far back as I can remember, my parents divorce being a pivotal moment but only a small cog in the machine that ultimately lead me to here and now, sitting on the bathroom floor crying into some toilet roll because of the latest brick that was pulled out of the fresh mind-set that I was trying to build in my mind.

The second notable incident began in 2011, but he didn’t show himself until 2012.

Becoming a teenage parent is hard, and keeping another real life human alive is tough. Especially when you have a complicated relationship with the mother. We didn’t stay together for long after he was born, but we stayed close. It was a tough time for both of us and she was building on top of her own series of poor experiences that made her the person that she was. Neither of us had had it particularly easy, but she was dealt a hand worse than mine from the start.

This took its toll on my studies, as you can imagine, and I didn’t grade particularly highly at A Level. The combination of young child, my age and my poor grades formed a clear path for me. I was to go straight into work.

I juggled through various jobs, some much better than others, and did some pretty wonderful things. I was never truly happy in any one job and my home life never got any easier. The relationship that my sons mum and I had became increasingly difficult as we both tried to see other people and raise a child together as closely as we could. There were arguments, fights, slanging matches, I was banned from my sons 2nd birthday party, I collapsed in tears on multiple occasions and overall my life didn’t feel particularly worth it. I lost my friends, I rarely saw my family.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my son more than anything, but the situations I often found myself in because of the circumstances were not healthy places to be in.

I continued to jump through jobs building my skills and eventually settled into an industry I thought I liked. Until the stress made me ill.

My old friends reached out to me and I began being sociable again. That was quite an important thing for me as it helped me bounce back and had sounding boards to discuss my life with. Regaining my best friend from school was a real blessing. And then I gained a whole new group of friends scattered across the globe growing year on year, the Lost Legion. They have always been by my side in times of need and they are so precious to me.

So, I jump again from a job that makes me ill to a job that makes me regret waking up in the morning. I’ve never clock watched so much in my life. Thankfully it wasn’t long lived but during those 6 months there were many, many dramas involving my son and the circumstances around it.

Coparenting is hard and I believe that even people that praise us for our parenting style don’t quite understand what we go through. The relationships that have suffered because we try to do what’s best for our son are numerous. Coparenting for us is all about sharing parental responsibilities and acting as a family unit to show that our love for him overcomes any personal feelings we may have. This means that, ultimately, we have minor influences over each other’s lives. If we believe something is best for him we will work together to achieve it and sometimes that means making sacrifices and supporting each other. Two people with very poor mental health can lead to an element of “chipping in" when required to alleviate the pain that the person is dealing with. We both require parental getaways from time to time and we work to make it work.

This sometimes makes it difficult to hold down effective relationships as our partners feel they are being treated as second best to my ex. This couldn’t be further from the truth and maybe one day I will find a way to make them see. It's also something that I know will get easier as my son gets older. He's not far off 8 years old and it won't be too long before he can choose as and when he wants to see me and he can have jnout on how it all works.

Anyway, I jump around a bit further. At this particular point in the story I had remained single since the birth of my son. The loneliness wasn't easy at all. No matter how many friends or family members I surrounded myself with I still felt alone. Many questionable decisions were made including some that I am certainly not proud of. As you can probably imagine, this did not help the state of my mental health. Being alone is a dangerous feeling.

One thing I haven't covered is my confidence. As a natural born introvert I always struggled to make friends and express myself. This went hand in hand with the struggle that is being bisexual (biphobia is real and awful). I also enjoy make up, traditionally-female clothing and generally being a big queer. I was raised in a liberal family in a rather neglected bigotted environment so this was very very difficult to develop with and thus expressing myself was hard. Feelings had to be repressed from an early age and only recently have I felt more free to express them.

Skipping forwards to mid-2019. I had a job that I enjoy, a girlfriend that I adored that made me so unbelievably comfortable in my own skin. Everything was looking up. Until I received news that multiple very close members of my family had been diagnosed with cancer. Some of them are fine now, but there is a goodbye that I will have to bring myself to make in the very near future.

This caused my world to yet again come crashing down and begin a snowball that was only going to get bigger and bigger. My work studies are suffering, my social life is always hit and miss, my regular depression has moved out and the joy of SADs has moved in.

I am now single, facing a big family goodbye and so far behind in my work that I called my boss to apologise and broke down on the phone to her. All while doing my best to keep a smile for my son.

I don't want him to know that his daddy is falling apart.

Now, of course, I've skipped over many details and avoided particular mental breakdowns. Of course I still love my son and of course I utterly, desperately want my girlfriend back, and my finances are a horrific shambles for somebody that works in finance. But this isn't about any of that.

This post is about something else. Something that many people have done for me.

Checked in.

They've messaged me at night, and in the morning and at regular intervals to make sure that I don't make any foolish decisions.

I know what decision they're trying to avoid me taking, and I'd by lying if I said I hadn't thought about it, but that's not what I really want.

I've thought about taking my own life a few times since 2009, all for very different reasons. But I don't just want the pain to stop.

I want to live.

I want to grow old with somebody and watch my son live his dreams. I want to finish reading my books. I want to see how The Good Place ends. I want to see the people I love thrive.

Suicide isn't an option I have given myself. It's a locked door with no key. I'm far too curious as to what next year will bring to just end it all. Too many people I know have tried or have succeeded and I know the pain it causes.

So basically, I'll be fine, but I appreciate the concern.

I might update this post as I continue to explore my feelings, but here it is for now.

Things I haven't mentioned: Holding hands through miscarriages, other breakups, abuse, anorexia, anxiety attacks, other family issues etc.

[willofhounds]

Reach for the light ch1 and link to other chapter

Oliver's POV

He stood staring out over the city he once called home. It had been five years since he left the college at 16 almost 17 and joined the CIA. They recruited him right there in college. Not because of his name. But for the talent he his behind his playboy placad.

A placad he was having trouble putting back up. Years in Tam Quan had taken its toll. A leader of the most insane bunch of killers the world would never know about.

The group dismantled and those not murderous sent back into the world. At least those who didn't stay with the agency. Oliver for his part couldn't find it in himself to stay. As much as he loved Alex and Echo he couldn't.

Both men had been alphas who looked after him once he joined the agency. As one of the few omegas male or female in the agency he had to watched.

No one thought an omega could make it in Medusa. The terrible black ops group that killed and went on insane missions. Yet he had. Not only had he survived the group. He thrived in it. Becoming Delta of century team 12.

A team that had been known for doing the impossible. Their leader taking out any who stood in his way. The only one he would listen to would be Echo. His second and trusted advisor.

Now he was back in Starling City. During his time away he had heard about Sarah's disappearance two years after his own. Only recently had she been found. Out on an old Chinese island called Lian Yu. Her disappearance set right before his entry into Medusa. Now she too had returned. From what he understood she was different. Made him wonder if she was like him.

A sound behind him made him whirl around. Looking for anything or anyone that could be a threat. Instead he saw the brown haired doctor. His hazel eyes searching Oliver's grey ones.

The man asked softly his hands extended palms up," Do you remember me, Mr. Queen?"

Oliver did remember him. Those in Medusa who had been allowed to return to their old lives were assigned a doctor. More specifically a psychiatrist. Someone who would make sure of their mental health and take care of any problems.

His doctor was Morris Panov. An omega male like himself. From what Alex had told him this man could be trusted. That Alex went to him himself for someone to talk to.

Something he had learned from the doctor was that omega psychiatrists were allowed to learn a technique. One that would give them an edge over an alpha patient. Or just one prone to violence. By most countries laws though the doctor could only use it on a patient. Or in extreme cases non patients when there was no other option. It was called gentle mind.

A technique that calmed the patients mind into a trance like state. They were still very aware of what was happening around them. Though reactions would be delayed and non violent. Thankfully he had not had such a technique used on him. Just warned that it was a possibility.

Finally he answered the man that he didn't trust," I remember you doctor. What's the verdict?"

A voice said from behind the doctor causing Oliver to startle violently," Ten percent of your body mainly chest area is covered in scar tissue. At least four broken bones that haven't healed correctly. If I didn't know any better Mr. Queen I would say you fought in a war."

He watched the new man with greying brown hair walk in. He wore a white lab coat. His movements were slow as if approaching a skittish animal.

Oliver didn't answer him. Just watched the man warily. Trust didn't come easily to him anymore. Even though he knew this man from his childhood he didn't trust him.

With a sigh the man said going back towards the door," There is someone who would like to see you. I'm sure the feeling is mutual."

When the man opened the door he saw his mother. Her dirty blond hair and green eyes met his own grey eyes. She stepped towards him and instinctively he took a step back from her. Though one set of instincts wanted him to run at her. The other set born from his time in Medusa told him to push her away. That she wouldn't accept what he had become.

Panov got between them and said in a calming voice," Easy now, Mr. Queen. Take a deep breath," Oliver did so. Feeling his heart that he didn't know had been racing slow," Mrs. Queen I am Doctor Morris Panov. Currently I am assigned to your son for reasons I cannot disclose. If you try to approach him it must be done carefully. Or let him come to you."

A dark look crossed Oliver's face as he glared at the doctor. Said doctor only stared calmly back at him. In the doctor's hazel eyes there was acceptance. Whatever he went with Doctor Panov would support him. As long as it didn't hurt anyone.

He then turned back to his mother. Her eyes held hope. Hope that he would come to her. For a moment he wanted to run from the room. Go anywhere else but here. Then it passed.

Oliver took a small tentative step towards her. Then he paused and took another. This continued until he stood before her.

Slowly and unsurely he wrapped his arms around her. The omega instincts took over at that point. Allowing him to relax into her hold as she wrapped her arms around him.

It wasn't long before he pulled away. Unable to allow himself to show such weakness for very long. Panov gave him an approving nod. One of the few the man had given him since they met three days prior.

The rest of the time in the hospital was spent filling out paperwork. When his mother had read through his file she went a deathly pale color. Something that he decided he would investigate later.

An hour later he was released an on his way home. For the first time in seven years he would step foot in the queen mansion. On the outside it had seemed like the mansion hadn't changed at all. It was still larger than they needed. His instincts telling him too many way to get in. Not enough people to protect it. Even century team 12 would have difficulty defending this place in an event of an attack.

When the car stopped Moira was the first to get out. Oliver followed her with Panov on his heels. Their sessions would be held here or at the man's clinic in downtown.

When the driver went to get his bag out of the trunk Oliver stopped him. The bag was full of his Medusa gear. The last thing he needed was them spilling out over the lawn. That would bring many uncomfortable questions that he wasn't ready to answer.

His mother said as they entered the house," Your room is just how you left it. I didn't have the heart to change it once you disappeared."

A dark skinned man appeared from the living room. His scent was that of an alpha. He had dark brown eyes and smile lines over his face. It was that of someone who smiled a lot.

He said holding out his hand," Its damn good to see you Oliver. Who is this?"

Walter that was his name. He worked with Oliver's father before the boat accident. If Oliver remembered correctly the man was the current CFO of the company. He was looking at something over Oliver's shoulder.

Panov said taking the man's hand as he came up next to Oliver," Morris Panov. I'm the psychiatrist assigned to Mr. Queen."

Walter frowned as he asked," Why does Oliver need a doctor?"

The younger blond tensed. Not looking at any of them as Panov replied," He has been through many hardships over the last seven years. I'm just here to make sure he adjusts. Its up to him if he tells you what

happened."

He felt gratitude towards the doctor. Honestly he half expected the msn to tell them everything. Instead he left it to Oliver about what he wanted them to know.

A voice that he hadn't heard for years said from above him," Mom..."

He looked up a smile on crossed his face. It was a true smile. Not the fake ones he had given everyone else. Thea stood looking down at him in shock. He looked down at himself.

He was wearing a black button down shirt with a white undershirt and black cargo pants. On top of his black shirt was his dog tags. The only name on that was Delta. His tags had his callsign and team number.

Thea said her eyes filling with tears," Ollie... you're alive."

Oliver said his smile widening," Thea."

She came running down the stairs. She jumped into arms wrapping her arms around him. For a long moment they just stood there. Then she pulled away from him her brown eyes met his grey ones.

"Your eyes are grey. What happened to them?"

He said softly," Its okay. There's nothing wrong with my eyes, Speedy."

Thea frowned as she said," Worst nickname ever, Ollie."

He snickered quietly. The name was given to her when she followed him and Tommy around. When they pulled apart her eyes found Panov.

Surprise filled her eyes as she said," You are the doctor that opened the clinic downtown."

Panov smiled kindly and said," Yes. I believe we met at the coffee shop down the street from your company."

She nodded. Then eyes widened in realization.

"You're Ollie's doctor."

It was a statement not a question. He wasn't surprised. Thea had always been quick.

Panov nodded as he replied," I am."

His doctor didn't say anything else as they began to taper off into the living room. Oliver excused himself. Making the excuse that he was tired and wanted a nap. His mother explained that dinner would be at six. She also said that Tommy would be there. His best friend before his recruitment. Excitement and fear filled him. He didn't know if he wanted to see the slightly older man.

Panov gave him a knowing look but didn't say anything. The man knew it was too much too soon for the blond. For the moment he would allow Oliver to leave. Though they would have to talk soon. Probably before he left.

When he started up the stairs he was stopped by Raisa. She was a short Russian woman who had taken looked after him since he was small. Her warm onyx eyes met his and gave him a big hug. Telling him how good it was to see him.

He replied in quiet Russian," Its good to see you too Raisa. It's good to be home. But I'm tired and am in need of a nap."

Her shock at hearing her native tongue come so naturally off his tongue was quickly covered up. Before she could respond he was already walking up the stairs. Upon reaching his room he stared at it in shock.

Clothes were everywhere. Typical of a teenager. When his mother said she hadn't changed anything she meant it. Before his nap he would have to clean this up. His training dictated it. With a sigh he began to pick things up.

Morris' POV

His hazel eyes watched the twenty three year old leave the room. When Alex had told him about the killer from Medusa he had not believed it. How could some one so young be that good? In his mind it wasn't conceivable. Yet when they were introduced just three days ago he was proven wrong.

Flashback

Morris Panov was sitting behind his desk when Alexander Conklin both a patient and a friend barged in. Alex dragged a young man with dirty blond hair and grey eyes behind him. Even with his useless right leg the man was powerful. The younger it seemed had long since given up the fight.

Morris greeted with a smile," Alex I didn't expect you for our first session for another week. I'm still getting the new clinic ready."

Alex replied after pushing the younger man into a chair in front of the desk," Sorry about the unplanned visit, Mo. If I tried to plan this Delta here would have taken off on me. Again."

The last word was directed at the younger man. The blond couldn't have been older than twenty. Yet, Alex had called him Delta. Delta meant the younger was part of the Medusa program.

With that realization Morris took a closer look at the man. He was of a good height. Roughly six feet tall. His blond hair was shaggy and in need of a good cut. While he was thin it wasn't life threateningly so.

What worried Morris was the man's eyes. They were a cold grey color. Something seen in the worst of killers and those who had seen too much war. There was something else in them. Some thing that took a minute for the doctor to place. A sense of loss. Like the man had lost everything he held dear to him.

Softly so not to startle the younger man asked," What's your name young man?"

The grey eyes looked at him blankly as he replied in a monotone," Delta of century team 12."

Alex sighed and rubbed a hand across his face as he said," He's been in too long, Mo. I've been trying to drag out the more human side of him since the op was disbanded."

Medusa or the op as Alex called it. A hell hole for the insane was a better description. What had this man done to deserve such a punishment? He was little more than a teenager. At least he would be if one took away the killer's eyes.

Morris asked," What do you want me to do Alex? My first impression is he needs to stay in a clinic full time. Until we can ascertain that he's not a danger to anyone."

The grey eyes turned to him. This time there was a fierce glare in them. That's when he remembered what he had heard. Out of all twenty operative teams century team 12 was the most well known. Even in his circles most of the high ranking doctors had talked of them. That if the agency needed something done then they called in that team. More specifically they called in the leader Delta.

This man was Delta? At first his mind couldn't believe it. Then again some things could only be pulled off by a youth.

The man said this time there was life in his voice," Try and keep me here. I dare you. I will kill everyone in here to get out of here if necessary."

Morris Panov cocked his head to the side as he asked," What if I asked gave you a choice?"

Grey eyes sparked with curiosity and for the briefest moment there was just a hint of blue. Now he knew why this man seemed familiar. It was not because of his callsign or any other ridiculous CIA thing. It was because of where his clinic was placed. He was in Starling City and this man was well known. If in different circles than he by everyone.

The missing Queen scion. Who had been missing for almost seven years. What had Alex done?

End of flashback

Morris was pulled out of his thoughts by a question," Is there anything we can do to help, Oliver, doctor?"

Morris sighed as he learned forward looking at the elder Queen. She was a doting mother from what he could tell. Though like Oliver Queen she had her secrets. He wondered if she knew her daughter was into drugs. Probably not or was avoiding the truth. Both scenarios were possible.

When he spoke it was in his soft toned voice when dealing with an anxious paitent," He will need to have sessions with me. At least three times a week. For your own safety I must ask that you do not try to wake him from a nightmare. Or try to pull him out of a flashback. He tends to react violently. So long as he is not touched he will not hurt anyone."

So far only Alex had been able to touch him. Mainly it was due to his prior experience with the omega. The man knew him. Had known him for years.

Moira Queen looked at him in disbelief. Sighing he continued," There are things I can't tell you. Did you see the necklace that your son was wearing?"

He saw the confusion then recognition. She recognized that he was wearing dog tags. Only the military wore those. She covered her mouth in horror.

She asked," What happened to him? How did he get in the military?"

Shaking his head Morris said," Even I don't know that. He hasn't told me much yet. I only know what's in his file."

It wasn't much either. Alex must have known who Delta was. Or David Webb as Alex called him.

Walter Steele said trying to comfort his wife," We won't. Do you have a number we can reach you at? Just in case."

Morris pulled out a card and wrote out his personal number on the back. That way they had both his numbers in case of something happening. When they took the numbers and nodded.

He would stay for dinner but that was it. For the moment they didn't trust him. Hopefully they would be begin to trust him after awhile.

Oliver's POV

It was just before dinner he stood at in the fiorer. In the back of his mind he sensed Morris Panov's eyes on him. Watching his every move but not interfering. He was looking at one of the last pictures of him and his father. They were standing on pier ready to fish. His eyes were blue in that picture. Not the grey eyes he currently bore.

A voice said from behind him," Oliver, dear God it's you."

It was only the fact that it was a familiar voice kept him from flinching. Slowly he turned to face a black haired man. Tommy Merlyn stood in front of the door. His eyes were blue eyes watching Oliver.

Oliver's lips upturned slightly in a smile as he said," Tommy Merlyn. It has been long time."

Tommy's eyes landed on his dog tags curiosity sparking in them. No doubt he wanted to know where they come from. Then he looked guilty as he looked behind him.

He said guilt lacing his tone," They insisted on coming once they heard you were back."

Curiosity peaked he nodded to Tommy and the other stepped aside. This allowed him to see who had come. The first he had somewhat expected. They had been dating before he left. To him it wasn't serious and never could be. As she was a beta and he was an omega. Meaning he couldn't get her pregnant but he could.

It was Laurel Lance. She was wearing a red dress that was nice but not over bearing. She was wearing a necklace. One that he had guessed by the looks of guilt on both her and Tommy's face that Tommy had given it her. He felt happiness for them. Then a tinge of sadness remembering the love he had lost.

Shaking his head of those dark thoughts he greeted," Laurel it is good to see you."

She returned the greeting with a smile," It's good to see you too Oliver. Where have you been?"

The question that everyone wanted to know. Yet he didn't want to answer. It painful memory of a time and place he wished to forget. Even speaking its name would bring back the horrors of what he had done.

What had his doctor said? "Tell them when you are ready. Make no mistake you will have to tell them eventually but only when you are ready."

As much as the man confused him he accepted the others words. Panov meant him no harm it seemed. While Oliver didn't trust him he did respect him somewhat.

He said sighing," I've been a little of everywhere. Where exactly I don't feel like sharing."

Likely he never would. Instead the doctor would make him tell them. Still some time is better than no time at all.

As they moved aside a familiar man walked in. While he expected Laurel he didn't truly expect Malcolm Tommy's father to walk in. The man who had blue eyes so similar to his own before Medusa. He didnt miss their similarities but then again he had grown up with the man.

Malcolm's eyes flickered to where Panov stood. Surprise shot across them before it was hidden behind his mask.

The man greeted warmly," Olivier it is good to have you back safe and sound."

Sound was a bit of a stretch. Not that he was going to tell the older Merlyn that.

Still he replied with a similar greeting," It is good to see you too, Mr. Merlyn."

The man took a step towards him the alpha pheromones coming off of him. While Tommy was an alpha he didn't give off such a powerful presence. Malcolm was unique like that. Oliver could sense the power behind the man. Hidden just behind his mask. Malcolm Merlyn would have made a good Delta in Medusa.

He said watching Oliver carefully," Please Oliver call me Malcolm."

Oliver nodded but before anything else could be said dinner was ready. His mother sat at the left of the head of the table. Walter sat at the head his eyes watching them carefully. Thea sat next to their mother. Next to her was Tommy. Malcolm was the last to sit on that side.

On the other side of the table was Morris Panov was sat to the right Walter. Laurel sat next to the doctor her curiosity had not faded at all. Oliver sat across from Malcolm.

The food was a heavy Asian style meal. One that Oliver had loved before his time in Medusa. Now he wasn't sure if his stomach could handle it. For most of the last five years he had been on field rations. Light food meant to fill one quickly.

So he picked at the food. As he suspected the main meal itself unsettled his stomach. The vegetables that came on the side were enough though.

As he ate he could feel Panov eyes knowingly on him. Another pair of eyes were on him. Ones that were not the knowing ones of the doctor.

Discreetly he glanced up to find Malcolm's eyes on him. They were ice blue eyes that held a measure of warmth. Something he hadn't received from the man before.

Thea asked suddenly," What was it like being gone for seven years? Where you lived?"

Oliver froze. Telling them nothing wouldn't help. Even the doctor had yet to get an answer from him.

With a glazed look in his eyes he replied," The first two years were heaven. I met someone. Someone I thought I would spend the rest of my life with."

His thoughts went to the hazel eyed woman named Irene. They had met when he first moved to Taiwan. A local that offered to show him the area. At first it was just her teaching him the area and the culture. Then one day he asked her on a date. She agreed.

A warm calm voice asked," What happened, Mr. Queen? Why were only two years not seven the happiest time for you?"

The voice knew. It had to know that the love of his life had been killed. Killed by a rogue fighter along with the child they had just adopted. He had found them just a few minutes after it had happened. Both of their bodies floating in the river on the backside of their property.

He was shaking. He knew he was shaking but couldn't stop it. A hand on his shoulder brought back instincts to kill. This area was not safe. He had to find Echo and get the hell out of here.

He grabbed at the arm twisting it painfully into a lock. The person it belonged to let out a pained cry. To which he ignored. Already gaining his feet without releasing the arm he kicked the person.

It was blocked and a mad battle began. His left hand struck out at a tall man's throat. He was about an inch taller than Delta. To the Medusan's surprise he wasn't that bad of a fighter. Someone had trained him. Just as the Monk had trained Delta.

Delta struck hard and fast. Aiming to incapacitate rather than kill. He had to get out of here. To kill everyone who stood in his way if necessary.

A well placed strike to his jaw from the other person made his head spin. While he was trying to clear his head he went on the defensive. Whoever this person was. They were good.

A command that he was familiar with was shouted," Delta! Stop!"

Delta obeyed only because he knew the man. The doctor that was trusted by Alexander Conklin. Like Delta the other combatant stopped. Slowly the fog around his mind faded and he remembered where he was.

Queen mansion at a dinner with his family. It was only his first day back. Looking up he saw that inquisitive blue eyes watching him. The same blue eyes that belonged to Malcolm Merlyn. Well shit!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15060740

Oliver Queen never went to the island. Instead he disappeared at sixteen into a program few knew about. When he returns he is a different man colder darker. When it is revealed that the man who he thought was his father isn't things are turned on their head.

#alpha al owal #alpha ra's al ghul #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #alpha/beta/omega au #alpha/beta/omega verse #omega oliver queen #omega Nyssa Al Ghul #Jason Bourne #carlos the jackel #Medusa #alpha #bravo #charlie #delta #echo #foxtrot #gamma #alpha quentin lance #alpha sarah lance

[notesofarichlycolorednight]

Hi! How do you think Luke's personality would be if he survived, and how would it change during the years? I'm not talking about the campers' reactions,but how Luke would think and act.

hello hello!

oh man, that’s an interesting question and i LOVE IT

so by the wording of your question, it sounds like if the titan war still happened, but luke somehow survived after getting rid of kronos, how he might change in the yrs following

and so, hcs!! in bullet-form!! as always under a cut

so he luke miraculously survives hitting his achilles’ heel

and let’s pretend the gods are a sliver decent and actually fulfill percy’s wish/reward, which now includes luke since he’s alive, and did help save the gods in the end

so he’s not exactly punished, but he is being monitored heavily, almost like he’s on parole or smth

i know it’s hard to believe they’d completely let him off, even in this au, so i’ll throw in a magical ankle bracelet that monitors him–he can’t take it off (without the gods being alerted), or go outside of nyc’s five boroughs, which includes into any magical realms (like the underworld, since there’s an entrance in central park)

if he heads into areas that have high demigod activity/magical auras, with chb as the exception, it alerts whoever now has the task of monitoring him to keep a closer eye on him for that time he’s there

suspicious activity is flagged, and they can recall him to mt olympus and detain him at any time if they think that he’s becoming a danger to the gods again

speaking of chb, i don’t think he’d be able to stay there after the titan war, too many painful memories–too many ppl who hate him, or don’t trust him, etc.

it’s hard to say what his and annabeth’s relationship would be. as i’ve said in a previous ask, i think luke was asking if annabeth still considered him family, and she does. but i think luke would be too guilt-ridden to interact with her at first

not to mention that percy is v protective, and while they may have had a tender moment abt not letting all that happen again, i think percy would have a hard time trusting him

thalia’s now with the hunters, and has clearly shown what she thinks of luke’s betrayal, so that’s no good either

i think grover would be more open to luke, but luke would probably avoid him like he avoid annabeth bc of the guilt. and grover’s a busy satyr now, so that doesn’t help

so basically anyone he considered close to him in childhood is on shaky ground and he’s not sure what to do abt that, bc demigods are only taught abt fighting and battle, instead of that and emotional and psychological health wheeeeeee

since he can’t leave nyc, he finds like a hostel or smth to stay in while he figures shit out and tries to get back on his feet

he’s suffering p heavily from ptsd and still has terrible nightmares abt kronos and being possessed by kronos, which doesn’t help

he can’t hold a steady job bc he only knows how to fight and has no social skills whatsoever, so he becomes some low-level conman to make some income

he still hates his father, so it’s hard to acknowledge that his father’s skills are helping hi survive right now, as much as he’d like to believe that he’s surviving all on his own

at some point, he tries to con one of the demigods who’ve made it without chb (a demigod whose parent is a minor god). thankfully, they’re nice abt it and introduce him to a demigod underworld, so to speak

i wouldn’t say it’s as sinister as our criminal underworld–it’s really more of a society of demigods who were forgotten (unclaimed kids) or never made it to camp (children of minor gods), but found a way to survive with little to no training from camp, despite the monsters and technology

luke is suddently introduced to a whole new world, and that’s when his life really starts moving forward again

these demigods are angry and bitter, yeah, but they take that and turn it into motivation to live and thrive–basically living bc of spite. fuck the gods, fuck my parents, i’ll show them i don’t need them or chb

(like rick has this weird thing abt writing kids who say that, but then talk abt how much they want their godly parent’s approval. or to prove that they’re worth of their godly parent’s attention. and like i get why, but that’s not true for everyone??? having been adopted, i come from a perspective of, yeah, i am a little curious abt who my biological parents are, but i’m not dying to reunite with them or anything bc i don’t need to??? i have everything i need right here–a loving mom, and awesome friends, who i would consider family. even if i did want to know who they were, their approval of who i am now doesn’t matter to me. i don’t need to prove anything to them, nor should i need to for their attention. like that’s shitty to expect that from your child, and a horribly mindset to instill in a child)

and so i imagine it’s the same for a lot of demigods, too /tangent

anyway, so i’d like to think that this society is pretty structured–it’s a mish-mash of kids of major gods who were never claimed and of minor gods. some do resort to criminal activity, others work minimum wage jobs, and still others who are making higher than minimum wage, with some even making six figures ya know. basically they still function within the larger mortal society, but they’re also part of this hidden demigod society, you feel?

but they always take in demigods who could use some help out in the real world, regardless of who their parents are and whether or not they’ve been claimed/lived at chb

hephaestus kids have built a closed-circuit network that makes tech safer for them to use, and it also helps them communicate with each other as well as any mortal they make friends with, etc.

and their secret society is hidden within a company (kinda like how the three roman emperors hid themselves within a company, except without the evil part), and it’s v socialist–so they do what they can to help those who don’t have anything, until they can get back on their feet, and then put back into the society and help others

so luke is introduced to this hidden world within the mortal one of new york

i’d like to think he’s p instantly recognizable (to most, not all), but they don’t hold any grudges or bitterness like those at chb to bc they understand that he was fighting for them, even if he was going abt it the wrong way

some put him on a pedestal (he’s the face of our hidden society or he could take up the company or smth), but another kid of hermes comes along and shows him the ropes, not expecting anything from him

they get him therapy to work on his anger issues as well as his ptsd, and he slowly learns social skills

there are two large apt buildings that the company owns that only house demigods (but not all the demigods who are part of this society), and they find him a small one bed/one bath apartment to live in

as he gets better, he stops resorting to criminal activity and finds a steady job working at a tech company, bc he doesn’t have to interact with ppl like in retail, and when he does, its coworkers who think the same as he does

i also like to think he starts mend those relationships he lost with annabeth and grover. thalia’s a little harder to reach, but once he starts communicating with annabeth more, annabeth tells thalia abt his progress, and thalia sneaks away to visit him on occasion

it’s rough at first, as it always is, bc he did a lot of bad things and hurt a lot of ppl

but he apologizes to all of them–annabeth, grover, thalia, and even percy

they start to hang out occasionally, and luke almost become a mentor to percy again

(we’re kinda ignoring hoo rn for luke’s mental health, but percy most definitely talks to luke abt how he can see where luke was coming from during the second titan war after that whole prophecy nightmare)

eventually, they become friends, even family

he’s happy to hear that the camp is expanding, allowing minor demigods; the hermes cabin is far less crowded

but luke still holds a lot of anger and bitterness. even living within this secret society, it’s yet another symptom of the gods’ lack of caring (like the crowded hermes cabin)

even with percy’s request and the expanding camp, luke still hears of demigods joining their society, which is a little disheartening if only bc it still represents the gods’ lack of caring

with the help of therapy, tho, he’s learning to channel is anger into smth productive

instead of trying to raise evil entities, he throws himself into the business that their society is hidden in. he wants to know all the inner workings of both the demigod and mortal side bc he wants to help as many demigods he can

bc in the end, he’s still a scared, lost little nine year old boy who just wants someone to be there for other demigods since no one was there for him

oh and speaking of, he finds the courage to visit him mom again! annabeth goes with him, since he’s still working through all that shit with his therapist (and lbr, that’s smth that someone might never work through, just learn to cope with)

i wouldn’t say he visits her often, but he spends some of his income and hires a caregiver to help around the house, but also to take care of may. since the prophecy has been fulfilled, her visions aren’t as bad, and she doesn’t have so many spells, but her mind is still quite lost bc the curse is still there

eventually, luke works his way up the ranks of the company bc he sees the good that this society is doing, and wants to be a part of that. he can finally help these demigods that doesn’t involve destroying the world

he starts to visit camp a little, but usually only talks with chiron abt the changes that they could make to the camp to better help the kids there. the whole place, tho, still holds a lot of painful memories that luke would just rather forget. so he doesn’t go often

it’s a long, long process and luke stays in therapy indefinitely, but the work he’s doing with the company, and the demigods he interacts with on a daily basis help him a lot

he slowly heals, and mends fences, as well as makes new friends and bonds

he never truly lets go of his anger and bitterness, and for the most part he just kinda ignores the gods. remembering what he did during the titan war still haunts him, but he uses those memories as a reminder and promises to never do anything like that again

and this time he keeps his promise!

*sniffles* look at my bby boy growing up and healing. 

despite liking white collar!luke (which i could see this so easily sprouting from your initial question), i wanted to take this in a different route and really delve into his healing process bc it’s like a salve to my soul. it’s so easy to ignore emotional and psychological health, but for anyone it’s so, so important to address those issues and work through them ya know?

like i advocate for mental health and stability! as well as emotional healing, esp for men bc it breaks down that toxic masculinity. and toxic masculinity often does lead to expressions of anger and violence in men in our society

i could probably say more, but i’ll leave it there for now. it feels like a good stopping point. hmu if you’d like to hear more specifics abt anything within this au!! i’d be happy to write more abt this au :D

thanks for sending this in, anon!!

#oh god for shame! i do not even know your name #notesofananonymousnight #asked and answered #luke castellan #pjo hcs #pjo au

[oneofiv]

"I can't go to Taco Bell, I'm on an all-carb diet! God, Karen! You're so stupid!"

After Devin died I was unemployed and heart broken beyond comprehension. The idea of filling this void with sex felt played out, I wanted to punish myself properly. Subconsciously I had decided the best form of torture would be the thing that would bother her the most. I felt like I was drowning in guilt and my anger for Devin was an anchor. So food, specifically bad food was the way to go. Devin was an amazing chef who chose to live by a locally grown, organic, vegetarian diet. Some people live to eat and others eat to live. Devin and I were the opposite sides of the spectrum. She loved food. I ate because I had to. I wasn't a particularly good cook and I am someone who relishes instant gratification, so quick service food had become my way of life. Can you imagine how much that bothered her? Me, someone she cared about deeply and her biggest passion in life at odds. Because for her it was only about eating the better tasting food it was about eating the food that was better for you. So after Devin died, of course I didn't get my act together or live my life in a way she'd be proud of. I ate and ate and ate. It was a regular occurrence for me to hit multiple drive-thru's a day. But it wasn't just the food, I started drinking more. In true hypocrite fashion, I was too arrogant to think it was an actual issue. I actually didn't recognize my issue with alcohol until the boyfriend and I got together about two and a half years after she left. All that time I beat myself up in the worst way possible.

When we moved to LA in January of 2017 I was at my heaviest. I actually don't know the exact number because I couldn't bring myself to get on a scale until I had started getting back to the gym. When I eventually stepped on the number staring back at me was 225 pounds. I decided to document that moment with a set of photos that I hoped I would look back on later in life and see how much progression I had made. But my gut (pun intended) told me that was most likely not going to happen. I had been struggling with my weight since I was about 22 years old. The year I started drinking beer. I would count calories and do two a days at the gym for weeks straight and then something minuscule would throw me off track. And because I was incapable of cutting myself some slack I would aggressively fall off the healthy wagon until I got fed up again with my appearance a few months down the line. So really after almost a decade of that pattern was I really confident that these would ever become "before" pictures?

Shortly after moving here my brothers and I got into CrossFit, which if you knew me back then was absolutely hilarious, for multiple reasons. Besides being scared of embarrassing myself in a room full of beasts I was nervous of hurting myself. I have struggled with back and knee issues since I was a teenager because despite my appearance at the time I was actually an athlete at one point. From the ages of 23 to 30 I would average that I threw my back out 3 times a year. And were talking complete debilitation! Stuck on the floor, have to get a shot in your spine kind of pain. To my surprise, I not only didn't hurt myself but I seemed to have strengthened my back. Since being back in LA I haven't thrown out my back once (knocking on all that wood again)! CrossFit came to an abrupt end after Quinn's accident (another story for another time). But without him able to go I lost my interest in going alone.

During the time at CrossFit I did manage to get stronger and improve my stamina but I wasn't losing weight the way that I had hoped. That's because weight loss is never about just exercise or dieting. It is about living a healthy lifestyle. Its about finding the balance. So while I wasn't eating as bad and I was working out more than I had ever done, I was still making poor life choices. People joke about the LA lifestyle but until you actually live here its really hard to describe. Hedonism. I became the person who went out and got fucked up on a Tuesday night with a bunch of people much younger than me. I was living in a false reality. The biggest lesson I think most people who live in LA learn is to find the balance between fun and a thriving life. So many people I know have gotten lost in this world. I know people who are sober now because this town drove them to find solace in a substance. I also watch people live risky lifestyles while pushing 35. There is no typical trajectory here. Some  people figure it out and some don't.

A few months before meeting the boyfriend I began to recognize the path I was on and started making changes towards getting my act together. I found a proper doctor and talked about my mental and physical health. We discussed all the medications I had unsuccessfully tried in the past. And after a few meetings and some testing we found a medication I had never attempted before. I don't ever want to say it was because of drug that I got my shit together but being properly medicated was like pulling back the curtains and debuting my true self. Its curbed my self loathing mind set and has allowed me to treat myself with kindness. I mentioned that when I would inevitable fall off the wagon I would get so critical of myself that it took me months to bounce back. I am thankfully not that person anymore. Oh I for sure fall off the wagon every now and then. I mean I still find myself in the occasional drive-thru but instead of hating myself for not having self control I cut myself some slack. I stopped putting such hard restrictions on myself. Some people can operate that way. Regimented and structured. I am not that girl! 

I managed to lose at least 35 pounds before starting to date the boyfriend. This is the point where I think the biggest change happened for me. This boyfriend of mine is sober. He made the decision to change after several years of the LA lifestyle got to be too much. I admire him for so many things but making this proactive choice and sticking to it all these years is one of the biggest. Until we started dating I wouldn't have said I was someone who drank a lot. For certain, never in excess. I know people who drink in excess, that's not me. But when you start spending all your free time with someone who doesn't drink and tries to avoid situations that are heavy booze or drug fueled it shines a HUGE light on your former habits. I stopped having a few beers after work, or drinking when going out to dinner. I wasn't getting fucked up on Tuesday nights anymore. I was spending less time with people who were in the thick of the LA life. This is when the weight began to really fall off. I met this with a bit of shock. You mean to tell me, that years of dieting and hours spent at the gym were completely in vain until the alcohol dried up? This formula is obviously not going to have the same effect across the board but apparently for me my biggest hurdle in the decade long weight loss struggle was alcohol. Mind blown!

It has been 3 years since moving back to LA and since stepping foot on that scale with 225 flashing back at me I am down to a healthy, but still squishy 155. My once delusional goal was to get back into single digit jeans, which I am at a size 8, has now evolved into no real number goal. I just want to keep going. I don't ever want to stop this progress. I know the ebb and flow will continue. But it seems I have cracked my code. Continue to put my mental health first, remember to forgive myself when I inevitably make mistakes, surround myself with people who have my best interest in mind, and stay in the balance I have found.

#coping mechanisms #ate my feelings #loss of a sister #weight loss #before and after #healthy lifestyle #mental health #be kind to yourself #weight loss journey #bad relationship with food #lifestyle change #diet #exercise #healthy living

[restlesswords88]

For the love of clam chowder

Today has been just one of those days where the skies parted, and all was well in the world. 

The past few weeks, I haven’t been able to sit and relax, or even get to do “me” stuff. There were school events, stuff with my dad, doctor appointments, and just other things popping up. Today was thankfully not like that.

Saturdays are the only day when I get to wake up and spend several hours just by myself. I do my weekly house chores: wash and hang the clothes to dry, sweep and mop the house (The house is maybe 400 sq ft), do the dishes, and take out recyclables. While doing that I get to make a decent breakfast of GF pancakes, tea, and blueberries, and I get to snuggle with the cat. It is the perfect type of morning for me.

After the laundry and everything is done (it takes Korean washers over an hour to just do the washing), I get to do my next favorite thing: I head outdoors. Today was a perfect foggy, crisp, fall morning. Because I had plans later in the day, I opted for a run instead of a hike. So, out the door I went and ran along my favorite part of the river. 

To me nothing is more freeing, mentally, physically, and emotionally, than being outside. When I run, the whole world melts away. I feel physically exhausted, but I get a chance to run out all of my emotions and really get to think in the quiet. It gives me one-on-one time with God. I feel closer to Him when I am outside running, than I have ever felt in a church. For a moment, or 35-60 minutes worth, I get the gift of just running free with nothing to stop me but my own lack of endurance. I do run for the health benefits, but to me, it is even more for my own sanity and solitude.

So, anyway, I got a run in and my overall pace had only slowed down by about 3 seconds per km. Which is pretty great considering I’ve been feeling like crap most days. And, I came back home rejuvenated and ready for my road trip.

After getting cleaned up and such, C and I went on a road trip to Daegu (about 1.5 hours away) just so we could go to Costco. The reason we drive so far to get there is because Costco is the only store I know of that sells things like: real cheese, dill pickles, honey nut cheerios, American soups, and apparently CLAM CHOWDER! I always love going on trips with my friends because we get to talk about work, life, dreams, etc. This time was no different. We spent time talking about our frustrations, our fears of the future, things that were going on in our home/family lives. We were able to reconnect. Being a person who thrives with the one-on-one conversations, this trip was absolutely wonderful.

So we got to Costco, and for the first time in my experience, it wasn’t packed. C and I were able to shop the way we love to shop; get in, get your stuff, get out. Since parking in cities is pretty much nonexistent, we decided to just eat lunch at Costco. I was expecting to eat the salad due to most of their food being just breaded stuff, BUT then I saw it...Clam Chowder. Living in Korea, you don’t eat cream based soups. There is beef bone soup, which is white, but not cream based. I haven’t had a cream based soup in over 3 years. I like clam chowder, but it isn’t usually my go-to type of soup. However, today I ate that clam chowder and I could almost swear that it was the best soup I’ve had in a very long time. It made me think of the comfort of home, of being with my family, and left me feeling warm. It was the perfect ending to the first half of my day.

After that we went home, had more great conversations, almost died a couple times, because, well, Korea driving, and went our separate ways. It is only 3:50 pm, and a lot could happen before I go to bed tonight, but so far it has been a wonderful day in my gift of a life.

...also, my cat has been sitting on my back and purring since I started writing this. My life is kind of great.

-Peace!

#Simple things #wonderful life