#unworthy BUT! i am by posting this telling that anxiety to shut up and continue promoting a fic i'm really proud and excited for and

[let-it-raines]

Catch Me If You Can (17/?)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

A/n: Everyone enjoying all of these post-season games? Even if your team has already lost like mine 🙈 Anyways, we’re back in London for one more chapter here and @resident-of-storybrooke is still the mvp for reading all of these words. 

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

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Tag list: @xellewoods @galaxyzxstark @eala-captian @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfury @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethings

-/-

Emma can feel Killian’s nose nudging between her shoulder blades, his scruff scratching at her skin, and as good as it feels, she can’t help but curl further into her pillow and bring her knees up to her stomach, hoping that he’ll leave her alone so that she can sleep longer. So much longer. Jet-lag is a bitch, and she just wants to sleep forever. They don’t even get a day off when they get home, and just thinking about it has her dying.

Why in the world did she get sent over here when she’s only writing an article and doing social media stuff? Jeff should have come with her, Ruby too, but right now, she can’t really complain.

This bed is really soft.

London is wonderful.

Killian smells really good right now. He shouldn’t smell this good this early in the morning, and he probably got up to brush his teeth and put cologne on or something stupidly wonderful like that.

But she’s tired, and all she really wants is to sleep some more and for the pleasant ache between her thighs to lessen a bit so she won’t be thinking about it all day long. It’s a wonderful memory to have to think about as her day goes on, but still, a girl has got to be able to walk without her mind going to weird places.

The new phase of a relationship is so damn fun.

Sighing, she hugs her pillow more closely and keeps her eyes shut only for Killian to place the softest kiss in existence on the back of her neck that has the shiver multiplying its intensity by ten with each new vertebra that it reaches.

“Did you know that you are a kicker in your sleep?” he murmurs, his voice hoarse and gravely like it always is in the mornings. She really likes that. Like, really. “And that you are also a heat seeker, and I am in no way safe from your assault.”

“That sounds like a hard life,” Emma mumbles, still not bothering to open her eyes.

“The hardest. Do you know that we’ve only ever spent the night together in hotels? You’ve never even seen my bedroom. We somehow have never made it past the living room.”

“You’ve never seen mine.”

“True,” he sighs as his hand inches over her waist so that his nails can run over her stomach, making the muscles flutter. Or maybe those are the damn metaphorical butterflies. It doesn’t matter. “We should remedy that when we get home.” Home.

He means New York. He doesn’t mean his apartment or her apartment. He simply means the city they both happen to live in, but knowing that doesn’t change the way her heart is hammering in her chest, that residual feeling of being terrified that this is all going to blow up in her face still lingering. It’s not there as much as it used to be, some of the fear tampering down the more comfortable she becomes with Killian, but as old ones fade away, new ones emerge like one of those creepy aliens in movies.

Killian isn’t like Walsh or Neal or any of the people who have hurt her. Anyone with half-functioning eyes could see that, and it’s reaffirmed in how he supports her every day. He sends her articles she’s written in the past with little notes attached to them on what he thinks. Sometimes he shares links to YouTube videos of her interviews, asking her how she noticed the strategy they employed to win that day or simply complimenting her on thinking on her feet when she gets put in a tough situation. The only people who could possibly support her more are Ruth and David, but Killian is very much inching up to the top of the Emma Swan fan club.

He’d probably make t-shirts. Several. And wear them under all of his clothes, the dork.

Dark and broody but also dorky. That’s how she’d describe him if she had to in three words or less.

So she’s not worried that he’s going to demean her or belittle her or make her feel unworthy like she has felt in the past, but there are so many other ways for him to hurt her. Their relationship getting out, for one, could destroy her professional credibility, at least for a little while. That’s something she thinks about every time she sneaks out of her hotel room and into his. It’s ridiculous hard to find a time when someone isn’t in the hallway. But what if he’s secretly shitty in some kind of other way? What if he doesn’t continue to be so open and honest with her? What if he realizes that her hang-ups are too complicated? What if he realizes that he doesn’t want to be patient with her when she does have her freak outs? He’s so damn patient with her, always waiting for her to make the move before he does, and there’s no guarantee he won’t get tired of that.

Why is this the morning that she thinks about this?

Probably because the reality of them telling their friends and family is hitting her. It was her idea, the guilt of lying to everyone overwhelming her, but now the actuality is overwhelming her even more.

Last night, she told Killian that she would go to Addy’s birthday party under this insane plan that he has of them fake running into each other in the hallway, and the reality of meeting his family is kind of freaking her out. She’s never met a boyfriend’s family before, which was always such a blessing, and now she’s invading Killian’s niece’s birthday party.

Where his brother, who he absolutely admires in every way, will be, along with his wife and their kids and all of these other people who are important to Killian.

Emma wants to run. She knows that she does. Feelings overwhelm her, the feelings she has for Killian most of all, but she thinks she’d rather be overwhelmed by the happiness that he helps her feel rather than the anxiety.

The new phase of a relationship is fun but also terrifying.

“Are you inviting me over for a sleepover?” she finally asks, hoping that Killian can’t tell that she’s freaking out a little bit.

Killian hums into her neck, and she finally opens her eyes, the brightness of the sun shining through the curtains blurring everything for a moment. “I am. I can get you all kinds of snacks. We’ll wear our best pajamas, watch movies, play truth or dare, maybe have a pillow fight or two.”

“Do you get all of your sleepover knowledge from 2000s rom coms?”

“Possibly.”

Emma chuckles before turning on the mattress, shifting into Killian’s space like he shifted into hers, and when she’s turned in his arms, she blinks at him, taking in the unshaven scruff and unruly hair that most definitely hasn’t been tamed. She likes that too. His hair is always doing different things, and she can’t decide what she likes best.

“You very obviously did,” Emma sighs, running her hands over the muscled curves of his biceps, “but that’s okay. That’s where all of my knowledge came from too. The closest I’ve ever gotten to one that’s not, like, a sexual thing is when Ruby and I room together on road games.”

“I don’t think that counts because then Robin, Will, and I have had a ton of sleepovers, and none of them involve any of the fun things I was talking about before.” He reaches up to cover her hand with his before leaning in and lazily moving his lips against hers. There are a lot of things she’s learning at twenty-seven, and one of them is most definitely how much she likes lazy morning make out sessions. They’re definitely one of the seven wonders of the world. “And who said there was going to be nothing sexual about our sleepover? I was definitely planning at least a little something.”

Her nose scrunches up, and Killian moves to gently bite it, making her laugh. “We can have something sexual happen, but only if it’s during truth or dare. No funny business otherwise, mister.”

His lips part like he’s going to say something, and she runs her hand up and down his arm as she waits. But then he blinks one long, slow blink and shuts his mouth, whatever words he was going to say curling back on his tongue.

“What?” she questions, moving her leg against his.

“Nothing,” Killian smiles, pressing forward to run his lips over hers again, making her toes curl from the way that he knows just what to do in a kiss to make her happy. “I was simply thinking of this sleepover we’re going to have, and how I need to buy some better pajamas for it. I can’t have you seeing me in anything less than decent.”

“You’re not wearing any clothes right now.”

“And I’ve yet to hear a complaint from you about that, so I think this may be decent attire.”

“Well then,” she sighs, slowly running her foot up his calf again and watching his eyes darken, “I think it’ll be perfectly fine attire then too.”

-/-

This is stupid.

This is so, so stupid. She can’t believe she’s doing this. It’s ridiculous. The most ridiculous thing in the entire world. Okay, maybe not in the entire world, but she’s feeling extra dramatic right now.

The most dramatic, and that’s not an exaggeration.

Killian told her to meet him in the hallway where all of the suites in the stadium are located, and she’s been standing her for fifteen minutes pretending to look at her phone instead of actually looking at her phone and answering emails or something. Or checking stats for the game. She should be doing that, but they’re still in the top of the first inning, and she’s pretty sure this is going to be the game that never ends.

Ever.

And she’ll be stuck in this hallway in London for the rest of her life and die in the yellow maxi dress that she spent thirty minutes picking out because she had no idea what to wear to her secret boyfriend’s niece’s tea party birthday. She’d also debated on going out and getting a gift despite their conversation last night, but then she’d reminded herself that she’s not technically planning on coming to this thing. It’s some kind of fake spur of the moment thing, and bringing a gift would ruin that.

She needs to calm down.

This is fine.

A set of doors to her left open, and she sees Killian walk through. She’s so used to seeing him dressed in his uniform or sweatpants and some kind of team-branded t-shirt when they’re in a baseball stadium that it throws her off when she sees him in tight-fighting blue jeans with a light blue button down tucked in, the sleeves rolled up and several buttons at the top undone so that she can see little tufts of black hair and the silver chain that he wears to keep his mom’s ring next to his heart.

Athletes have all kinds of traditions and superstitions for every part of their life, but her favorite is that Killian keeps that ring on him at all times.

“Hello, kind acquaintance,” he teases when he sees her, eyes darting around the hallway while he steps closer, “funny running into you here looking absolutely gorgeous in that dress. I’d say it’s perfect for a tea party.”

“You are ridiculous.” “You have got to stop saying that about me like it’s new information.” Killian steps up to her then, looking around once more before quickly dipping his head to kiss her while grabbing her ass like they didn’t just see each other two hours ago when she finally left his room. “You do look just beautiful, though. Sometimes I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

Heat immediately rises to her cheeks, but she tries to shake it and the butterflies in her stomach off. “I ask myself the same thing about you all the time.”

Killian rolls his eyes at her before holding his arm out. “You ready to go?”

Her eyes glance down at his elbow before looking back up at him. “Why are you holding your arm like that?”

“Because it’s proper to escort a lady to an event by giving her your arm when you walk, and I like to do proper by such a lady.”

“Killian,” she protests even as her heart absolutely hammers in his chest, “we can’t do that. There are people.”

“There’s no one. Indulge me for sixty seconds, okay?”

Maybe it’s that she’s feeling overwhelmed and like taking a risk or maybe it’s the way that he smiles, but something about him has her taking his arm and placing her hand in the crook of his elbow as they walk down the hallway until they’re at the double doors of the suite.

“It’s going to be fine, Swan,” Killian promises, squeezing her hand before letting go and pushing the door open so that the sounds of children excitedly talking fill their ears and her eyes take in all of the people in the room.

It’s not many, less than are usually in a big suite, but she can see at least fifteen kids, most of them children of players, and maybe ten other adults. That doesn’t seem like the right ratio, but these kids are old enough to be semi self-sufficient about most things. Everything is fine. She’s just nervous, which only gets worse when Killian’s niece spots them.

“Uncle Killian,” Addison screeches, stopping where she is and running toward the two of them in her blue dress. Killian immediately crouches down to her level, opening his arms to her and taking her into the tightest embrace before lifting her off of the ground while Addison nuzzles into his shoulder.

It may very well be the cutest and most heart-warming thing she has ever seen in her entire life.

“Happy birthday, my little love,” he sighs, swaying her as they stand. “How are you six years old? I’m pretty sure you’re still supposed to be a baby.”

“I’m too big to be a baby. Don’t be silly.”

“Don’t be silly?” he guffaws, pulling back and adjusting his grip on Addison. “Darling, I am always silly, but so are you. You’re basically the silliest goose.”

Addison scrunches up her nose, and Emma can see Killian in her there. It might be the dimples or the blue of her eyes, but Emma can see something even though both of Killian’s nieces look exactly like their mom. She is not weird at all for noticing these things. “We have talked about this. I am not a silly goose. I am a girl.”

“Geese can be girls.”

“Did you bring me a present?”

“A present?” Killian gasps, tickling Addison’s sides so that she giggles. “Am I supposed to bring you a present? No one told me.”

“But it’s my birthday,” she pouts.

“Did you bring me a present on my birthday? I don’t remember.”

“Yes,” Addison groans, holding her head back. “I drew you a picture of us.”

“Oh, that’s right, that’s right,” Killian sighs, glancing to the side and winking at Emma, which definitely doesn’t do something weird to her heart. “You did. I have it framed on my bookshelf because I love it so much. I do have a present for you, but your mom and dad told me that I had to leave it at home so you can’t open it until you get back to America.”

“What is it?” she gasps, not at all deterred by the fact that she can’t open her present yet.

“Addy,” a male voice sighs, and Emma turns her head to the side to see Killian’s brother standing near them, and that definitely does something to her heart, “remember what we talked about? You have to be patient.”

“But I’m excited!” Killian puts her on the ground so that she’s no longer at eye-level with all of them, but her confidence might as well make her six feet tall. “Where’s Lucy? I don’t see her.”

“She’s sitting with Mommy. Why don’t you go find them while I talk to Killian and Ms. Emma here?”

That’s when Addison’s attention turns to her, and suddenly she feels like more eyes are on her than when she’s on television.

Is she terrified of a six-year-old? No, that would be ridiculous.

(Also, Killian’s brother knows her name, and while that’s not weird, she feels like it is. Then again, she knows his entire family.)

“Who are you?” she questions, her hands on her hips and eyes focused.

Emma plasters a smile on her face, one that was already there even if she didn’t realize it, before squatting down so that she’s eye-to-eye with Addison.

“Hi, Addison. My name is Emma. I work with your uncle.”

“Are you a baseball player?”

“No,” Emma laughs, and she looks up at Killian when she hears him chuckle. He simply shrugs his shoulders and waggles his brows across his forehead. “I wish I was, but I work on TV. You know those people who ask Killian all kinds of questions?”

“That’s you?”

“That’s me.”

Addison smiles, the teeth she has missing obvious, before she steps a little closer to Emma and touches her dress, running her fingers over the material. “I like your dress. It kind of looks like a princess dress. Are you going to stay for my party?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“I do. Do you want to come and look at my cake with me? It’s shaped like a unicorn.”

“Sure, sweetie,” she answers, smiling at Addison and taking her hand as she’s dragged off to the other side of the room, leaving Killian and Liam behind.

For the next hour, her best friend in the world is Addy Jones, who very much takes Emma under her wings as she shows her around the suite and introduces her to all of her friends. The only real experience Emma has with kids is Leo, and the four-year difference between six and ten is kind of insane, but it’s not hard to adjust and talk about all of the right things. It gets a little more difficult when she meets Lucy, if only because Lucy is one reserved little girl, but Emma notices that she very easily follows in Addy’s footsteps and has her own little personality, even if it’s quieter.

Lucy Jones also very much loves her uncle, and it makes Emma’s heart do that funny stuttering thing every time she looks up and sees Lucy sitting with Killian as he animatedly talks to her and makes her laugh with this little high-pitched squeal. She’s always known how much Killian loves his nieces from how he talks about them and how he has pictures of them in his apartment and on his social media, but seeing it in person is this whole new thing. He’s in his element, even more than he is when he’s on a baseball field like the one just outside, and this smile that’s been with her most of today continues to increase, the corners of her lips constantly ticking up whenever she thinks about him.

Which is a lot.

Probably more than a normal amount, and she just loves him so damn much that…

Holy shit.

She loves him.

She loves him.

Why is she realizing that right now as she sits at a table with people she doesn’t really even know while she watches him very obviously stick his pinky out while drinking tea teaching Lucy to do the same?

How in the world did this happen?

And is she terrified or so incredibly excited that it feels a lot like the fear that’s been weaving in and out of her days lately?

Does he love her too? Can he? She thinks that he can, that he does, but how is she ever supposed to know for sure? It’s been a good while since she actually felt this way, and she’s not sure that she trusts her heart to realize the difference.

“It’s Emma, right?”

Emma looks up from her seat to see Elsa Jones standing above her, blonde hair pulled back into a complicated braid and soft smile painted across her lips.

“Yeah, yes, that’s me,” Emma stutters, holding out her hand to shake Elsa’s. “Elsa?”

“The one and only. Well, kind of,” she laughs before pulling out the empty chair next to Emma and sitting down. “It’s so nice to meet you. I feel like I know you from your job.”

“Funny, I feel like I know you.”

Okay, so that’s probably pretty creepy. Was that creepy?

Before Emma can think about it too much, Elsa laughs, something that sounds genuine, and Emma has to remind herself that this is just another person who she knows is kind. There’s nothing to be afraid of. She talks to people for a living.

“I would bet. Killian talks far too much, so you get a lot of information out of him when you’re likely just looking to talk about the game. I really liked the special you did at the beginning of the season. It felt very much like him as a person, which I’m always so happy to see.”

“He’s a great subject. It’s not easy getting a lot of these guys to be charming and funny about things other than baseball, so I love when I find one that knows how to open up. And he’s so good with your daughters. I hope I’m not intruding on your day, but Killian – ”

“Found you wandering the halls and dragged you along?” Emma arches her brow, but Elsa simply waves her away, shaking her head from side to side as she glances out the windows to the game that Emma is only half paying attention to even though it’s her job. “Liam told me. You’re not intruding at all. Addy has gone on and on about her pretty new friend Emma, and any friend of my girl is a friend of mine. Plus, we Joneses owe you about a million apologizes for my dumbass brother-in-law asking you out.”

She has to cover her mouth with her hand as she laughs, a snort escaping her before she can stop it. “Did you guys give him hell for that? I feel like he does deserve it.”

“Oh, most definitely. Killian is not a super spontaneous guy, especially when it comes to women, not anymore at least, so I’m not entirely convinced someone didn’t spike his water bottle. I actually choked on my own water bottle when I saw it happening, so I gave him hell for that too.”

“Good, but I’ve forgiven him as long as he never does something like that again. Our working relationship is much better now because he can basically never say no when I want an interview.”

“True,” she says, her smile somehow brighter. “You’ve got to use those kinds of things in your favor. I do it with Liam all the time. It works like a charm.”

“What does?” Liam asks as he steps up to them.

“Hi, sweetie,” Elsa greets him, tilting her head back so that Liam can kiss her. “Have you met Emma?”

“I did when she came in, but I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to her before Addy dragged her away. So, it’s nice to meet you, Emma.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well. I was telling Elsa that it’s good to put real faces to names I’ve heard so much about.”

“You’ve heard a lot about us?”

“Oh, y-yeah,” she mumbles, internally cursing herself again. “Work and all. I know far too much about the lives of all of the players, which is both a good and bad thing.”

“I would bet. Do you know about – ”

“Yesterday?” she asks. Liam nods his head, his smile tightened. “Yeah, I know. It was shitty, but it happens. And I’m glad Will and Killian and some of the other guys stood up for me like that, even if Killian was an idiot for messing up his hand. But I feel like I’m part of the team sometimes, and it’s nice to know they have my back.”

“Emma,” Addy squeals as she runs toward the three of them, completely ignoring her parents, “Killian said to come and get you to ask if you wanted to join our tea party. He says that you don’t know how to drink tea, and I have to help you.”

Her eyes immediately glance over to Killian, and when he moves his brow across his forehead, laughter bubbles inside of her stomach and her mouth falls into a soft smile. The ridiculous fool.

“You know what, Addy,” she sighs, “I don’t think I know how to drink tea. You and Lucy will have to teach me, okay?”

“I know. Come on.” Addison tugs at her arm until she rises from her chair, excusing herself to Liam and Elsa before she’s dragged across the room and over to the table where all of Addison’s friends and Killian are eat snacks and drinking tea, which looks a lot more like orange juice, and Emma is told to sit down in the chair next to Killian who is holding Lucy’s goldfish snacks while she inspects all of them. “Uncle Killian, I brought Emma over. Emma, do you want orange tea or apple tea?”

“Um, orange tea.”

Addy nods her head before she’s running off to the other side of the table and leaving Emma with Killian and Lucy.

“So, you need to teach me how to drink tea then?”

He shrugs his shoulders as he attempts to flip the hair that’s fallen over his forehead back. “My brother and sister-in-law had cornered you, and I thought you might need a little saving. I knew that you were a little nervous about meeting them.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“You talk in your sleep.”

“I do not, you as – jerk,’” she corrects, stopping herself when Lucy looks up at her. “Hi, sweetheart. I like your dress.”

“Thank you,” she says quietly, sweetly. “It’s yellow. Yours is yellow.”

“I know. We’re basically twins. Are you going to eat your goldfish?”

Lucy softly smiles, little blonde curls falling in her face, before picking up a handful of her snacks from Killian and offering them over to Emma in a sweet gesture that definitely rivals everything romantic that her uncle has ever done.

“Thank you, Lucy.” Emma pops one into her mouth only to look up at Killian and see that his eyes are crinkled, those little lines showing up, and her stomach pleasantly twists at the sight of it. She realized that she loved him less than twenty minutes ago, and there are still a lot of crazy feelings processing in her brain right now. A lot. “Do you want some, twenty-nine?”

Killian blinks, almost like he doesn’t recognize her nickname for him, before reaching over and taking some of the fish that she’s offering him. It’s cheesy and very romance novel-ish, but she swears that she feels sparks when his fingers brush over the palm of her hands.

“Thank you, love.”

“I have your orange team, Emma,” Addy shouts as she comes back to them, balancing a far too full plastic cup of orange juice that spills a little on the carpet until Emma takes it from Addy’s hand.

“Well, thank you, Addy. But it’s your birthday. Shouldn’t I be helping you do something instead of you handing me my tea?”

Addy hums at this, her forefinger tapping against her chin while her foot taps on the ground. “You can help me open my presents later, okay?”

“That sounds like a deal.”

-/-

“Working hard or hardly working?”

Emma pulls the headphones from her ears so that she can hear Killian better, even though she could most definitely hear the cheesy phrase that just came out of his mouth. His family is flying back on the team plane, as are all of the other players’ families, and since she is Addison Jones’s new favorite person as of seven hours ago, she was asked to sit with all of the Jones clan, which has really just been her sitting in a seat by the window with Addy and Lucy switching seats until the both of them were corralled by their parents to go to sleep. And now she’s got Killian sitting next to her, which is what she was hoping for but isn’t the most subtle thing in the world.

They are not subtle people even when they probably think they are.

She’d never make it in federal law enforcement or something like that.

“My deadline is in an hour, and I had to pay twenty-seven dollars for WiFi so that I could send it in.”

“So, working hard?”

“Yep.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No, no,” she protests, reaching down to take another sip of her coffee. Her jet-lag is going to be even worse of a bitch tomorrow. “You can stay. I just have to check my stat facts, and then I’ll be finished. It’s kind of hard to work when everyone else is asleep and it’s so dark in here, so, you know, I’m drinking all of the caffeine to stay awake. I think I have a food baby made of unicorn cake.”

“Aye, me too,” he laughs as he pats his stomach. “That was too much sugar.”

“No such thing.”

“Oh, but there is, darling.” His hand brushes over her forearm, and she can see the slight scabs and marks from him punching Arthur yesterday. Nothing new has been said, no suspensions mentioned, and she hopes that it stays that way. She also hopes that nothing like that ever happens again.

“How does your hand feel?”

“A little sore, but I’m right as rain. It’s a good thing I have several days off, yeah?”

Emma groans, shutting her eyes just at the thought of getting up to work tomorrow like most people on this plane except for Killian and Robin. “Don’t remind me. I’m going to look like a zombie tomorrow, and feel even worse than that. If I ever go overseas again, it’s going to be for long enough to adjust to the time.”

“You and me both,” he yawns, and she’s totally endeared by the way his face contorts there only for him to smile at her with a tired, boyish grin that she’s endeared by even more. “Finish up your article, my love, and then I say that you at least try to go to sleep.”

“Always looking out for me.”

“You know it.”

Her hand reaches over his scarred one so that she can squeeze it, which is all she can really do right now. But honestly, being right here next to him simply sitting together after all of the craziness of these few days – baseball, meeting her boyfriend’s family, asshole players getting punched, quick tours of London that went by in a blur, and realizing that she loves Killian – is more than enough when it’s already absolutely everything.

#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan

[letsdiscoverkitty]

Thoughts//

I want to want to get better; I mean it, I really do.  However when I try to think about it I hit a mental block that I can’t seem to get past. I get overwhelmed. I feel incapable and unworthy. I stumble and I fall. I mess up time and time again. And to be totally honest with you, most of the time I don’t realise it/know exactly why I have become so stuck/immobilised. No matter what though, I keep getting back up. Because that’s what I do. I am constantly beating myself up for a whole host of reasons. For being so weak, for letting other people down, for not being ‘good enough’ by any sort of standards...the list goes on. Because surely it should not be this hard. Surely if I “wanted it more/enough” then I would be better by now.  Surely it must therefore be me that is the problem here, maybe I’m not meant to “get better”. But I want to want to get better. So much so that I can sit here and recite to you numerous reasons why “recovery will be worth it”. I can give you a whole long list of motivations and inspirational quotes. I have read the books, articles, and blog posts; I have listened to the podcasts and watched the youtube channels.I have done the homework, I can draw out the posters and I have filled out all of the sheets. I know the science and theories that are so often talked about. I attend all of my appointments, I talk openly and try to let people in to help me. I can intellectualise for you all day long. The thing is though... Yes I can sit here tell you exactly what you want to hear; I can tick all those recovery focused boxes, I can do it with my eyes shut without even realising it, but deep down I feel absolutely no connection to any of it. It all feels like a fairytale; some far away dream; something that is applicable to other people but not to me. I want to want to get better but even just thinking about the possibility feels so alien and impossible; so far off and unattainable; so inherently wrong.

But maybe right now it isn’t about ‘wanting’ it. Maybe it isn’t about theorising even more, or about trying to search for “the” elusive motivation that will be give me a drive/reason. Maybe it isn’t about attempting to quantify and evaluate and balance every single side. Maybe there is no magic moment or light bulb spark, and by trying to wait around for one, I am et again playing into another distraction technique as a way of avoiding reality. Because let’s be real, if it were about “wanting it enough”, then none of us would be stuck in these difficult places, would we? 

Maybe, instead of trying to figure it all out and map it perfectly on a piece of paper before starting, it is instead more about craving out your path as you go. Maybe it comes down to ‘weighing up’ and deciding whether you think it is worth the risk. Whether it is worth experiencing the anxiety and discomfort, running right into the fear and holding on even though you don’t know what lies ahead; in the hope that things might be different this time around.

I’m not sure. But I do know that by waiting, by continually putting off and procrastinating, by sitting and dwelling,  I am only trapping and losing myself further.  By giving into the illness I am not giving myself a chance, nor am I I giving recovery a chance. And maybe that is where I have been going wrong...I have been trying to appease all sides of the equations, playing some impossible balancing act. Trying to wait until I have it all figured out and organised in front of me before even starting...and in doing so I have been putting myself in an impossible situation where nothing will ever be “enough” no matter how much I give. Struggling with recovery is not a case of “not wanting it enough”; this goes far and beyond that. But maybe there is no “reason” or answer to be found. So maybe the best thing I can do right now is to forgive myself;  acknowledge where I am and accept that I am not going to necessarily “want” to go through this process/recovery.  Who knows. What I do know though is that I can’t stay like this anymore. I may not “want” recovery right now but I also do not want to stay like “this”. So maybe it is worth a try; worth seeing what could lie ahead for me, instead of always wondering what “could have been”.

#personal #i dont even know where this came from #but I needed to write #and write i did #sorry #recovery #ed #anorexia #mental health #recovery process #ed recovery #idk what this is

[itskiah]

An autumn leaf has no control, it sways in whichever direction the wind leads it. All the other leaves have fallen and now its just one leaf trying to hold on to the tree with all it's might. It is afraid to fall like the others, even though it's uncomfortable with the constant twisting and turning of the wind. The tree has become unwelcome, and uninterested in the leaf. It no longer provides the leaf with the nutrients it needs to be strong and green. The leaf is meant to fall, to cut ties with the tree, to wither away and seep into the ground and grow into something else, something stronger. Lately I've been reminded of who I used to be. A sad, lonely leaf afraid to fall. I had friends, if you want to call them that. They were mean and cold and never took accountability for the things they did to me. They made me feel small, unloved, and unworthy. They even pretended to plot my death once. And all because I tried so badly to be like them, to be with them. It wasn't my fault I was so unhappy, so uncomfortable in my skin. There was nothing I could do about it, it was just how I was born and how I was forced to live. I would tell them that each time I was upset. Tell them it's not their fault either and I'm so sorry for upsetting them. I would stalk their social media pages and see that they were all hanging out without me. Then I started to text them that I wanted to hurt myself, or that I had an allergic reaction just to see if they would answer, if they cared. I remember one time they all sat me down for an intervention. They harshly told me I'm not the victim and I was the reason I was so miserable, and that they were becoming miserable because of me. They told me they didn't want to be friends with me if I didn't change. I tried to point out all of the things they did and said that made me feel the way I did, but they didn't hear it. They debunked everything I said, told me I made it all up.  I cried, I cut, I felt ashamed. But despite this I still longed to be a part of the group, I pretended I was okay, but each time I left them I'd be overwhelmed with anxiety, convince myself I wasn't worth their friendships. Then the next day I would make damn sure I was at the pool with them all, I resented them, but if I didn't have them what did I have? I couldn't wait to go to college. A fresh start with people who don't know me, people who would see the real me. I'd see all the girls in the hallway and wish I could be like them. Unapologetic and popular, magnetic really. I'd hear them outside my door getting ready to go to parties, but they never invited me. "Why? I know I'm shy but all I need is for someone to give me a chance." But I did make some friends after all, we would be living together in a quad the following year. But these girls didn't care for the parties like I did, so even with them I felt out of place. Sophomore year I was finally invited, finally given a chance. I went to a party and I remember watching all the boys hitting on the girls as I continuously pulled my shirt higher to hide my cleavage. Why weren't they looking at me? I know I'm not pretty but am I really that ugly? I knew I shouldn't have worn that shirt it made my chest look too big and my arms looked fat and standing next to these girls really brought that out, There I was the designated fat friend there to make everyone else look better by comparison. I remember sitting on the bed in the dorm room when a girl grabbed my hand to dance. She told me one of her guy friends was looking at me, I didn't even notice. She introduced me and he asked to dance but I wouldn't let him touch my hips, he would feel my fat. He told me I was beautiful I told him he was lying. Then we stopped talking and he left with one of the "pretty girls." A few weeks later was my birthday and one of the "pretty girls" wanted to throw me a party. I didn't show because she wouldn't tell me who was coming. She told me that I was being disrespectful and that I didn't appreciate all that she had done and she stopped speaking to me. I apologized incessantly "it's just my anxiety I can't help it." We never rekindled that "friendship." Which I knew all along would happen because she never truly understood me. I thought my roommates did but they even started to show they didn't care, they stopped asking me about my vague posts on twitter and facebook. One time they even told me that what I posted was obviously about them and that "I make everything about me." Why can't anyone understand how hard it is to be me? To feel what I feel? A few days after my birthday I snuck out of my college dorm and got in my car. I had every intention to drive into a tree. Before I took off I listened to a voicemail from my aunt and cousins singing me happy birthday. I called my mom and told her I didn't want to be alive anymore. Although I had had these thoughts before, I decided this was it.  I posted on twitter and facebook that I wanted to leave this "earth." None of my "friends" replied, just a girl I worked with who didn't even know me. I was right, I knew they didn't care. Then I put the car in reverse and started driving. I didn't know where I was going, I just knew that there were plenty of roads near my school where I could easily shut my eyes, and hit the gas until I crashed. Through the tears I remember thinking "they'll be sorry now." But I couldn't do it. Something inside me was afraid. "Of course even I would fail at this." It took me a while to realize that I couldn't follow through that night because I wasn't doing it for me. I was doing it to seek some sort of revenge on "them." I turned the car around, still crying and pulled into the parking spot I left from 20 min prior. My roommates were there waiting, they jumped in the car and hugged me as I sobbed. When we got back to our room, I checked my phone and had several missed calls from my mom and several private messages on facebook and twitter. People do care. After that day I became determined to start my journey  to prove "them" wrong. To show "them" all that I was worthy of all the good that life has to offer. I begun deep diving into myself, my thoughts, my feelings, my behaviors. I realized that the people in my past had a point. People in my past were not trying to hurt me, they were trying to save me. I convinced myself for so long that I was the victim and "they" were the perpetrators. But "they" were just a figment of my creation. People in my past did not say that I was the ugly, fat friend, I did.  People in my past didn't tell me that something was wrong with me, I did. So if "they" were really just my inner thoughts I didn't have to prove anyone wrong but myself. And so the journey's purpose changed. Once "they" held less power, my true personality emerged. Other's began to flock to me, I began to see myself and accept myself for the things that I am (good, bad, and the ugly.) I became an unapologetic "pretty girl." I don't need anyone else to love me as long as I love me. Realizing I held the power all along was terrifying yet amazing. I am not a victim. I am not just a leaf twisting in the wind. I am a strong and flawed woman and I matter in this world. Now the leaf has become a tree. beautiful and full of leaves. This tree has now begun to understand the tree it fell from all those years ago and whispers "thank you" in the wind. This tree nurtures it's many leaves until they are ready to fall and become their own trees

#selfcare #depresjon #change #selfwrote #self improvement #self worth #self love #Self Acceptance #youmatter #attempt #sadnnes #growth #driving #college #crypretty #it gets better #semicolon #mystory #powerful #purpose #therapy #mentalhealthawareness #mental health #anxitey

[ironwoman359]

Learning New Things About Ourselves

 Observations, thoughts, and screenshots! 

(under the cut, because spoilers and also LONG)

Patton: “Take it from me. That’s not the way to work out your feelings.” Oof, you really can see Patton’s growth in this episode, he’s so much more aware of himself now. 

Patton: *gasp* Logan!!!!

“It’s Patton!”

Oh my goodness, he’s so excited to see him, Logan, acknowledge him, he’s so happy to see you. 

Logan and Roman are acting like they haven’t even made the progress they have recently, that’s how you really know something is off with Thomas. 

Thomas: Uh, guys? *makes the face*

Patton: “*gasp* I know that face!”

“My child is returning”

Virgil: Thomas you have got to do something about this!  Thomas: But this is what they always do. Right? Oof, Thomas, even if so, that’s not good. You need to help them solve their issues, or there’s never going to be any peace around. 

Patton is so aggressive in his love for Virgil, it’s so cute. And AWWWWW, Virgil gave Patton a dad themed nickname! That’s so precious, my moxiety loving heart is so happy right now! 

AAAAAH, just look at them, they’re best friends and I love it so much. 

(also mood with the arm thing, Thomas)

Virgil’s just all Roman, you’re an insecure moron, Logan, you’re an inconsiderate jerk, can you both just COOL it now? I do love that now, Virgil acts much more often as the “common sense we need,” like, lately he’s been an identifier of a lot of the problems and now that he’s actually listened to, it makes things go way smoother. 

Roman: “I’m not insecure!” Yes sweetie, yes you are.

R&L: I’M THE MOST IMPORTANT SIDE HERE! Everyone’s faces omg:

Virgil: “All I’m saying is you both suck at what you do and I’m tired of having to keep lighting fires under your butts.” 

Also, typical, Roman is trying to defend himself, Logan took Virgil way too literally, and Virgil is making gay jokes until Patton calms them all down. 

Patton, my hero, knowing how to get each of them to shut up, I am so using that in future fics. 

They all zero in so quickly on what Patton gives them:

(Also look at Patton’s face, this is like, a rare moment when he shows off how powerful he actually is. Not just as a strong influencer in Thomas’s personality, but like, he knows them all so well. He knows how they all tick, he knows their feelings better than they do, and he knows exactly how to calm each of them down. He probably also knows exactly how to work each of them up, too, but he doesn’t because he’s Good. This just...it makes me think of human aus where Patton is somehow able to get the whole school to listen to him or retaliates against bullies, and I love it.) 

Happy, distracted bois.

Roman the artist, you’re doing amazing sweetie, wow.

Patton figuring all this out is my jam, tbh. 

You can see the gears turning in his head, and then he has that AhHa! moment, and he doesn’t have the answers, but he knows that’s okay, they just need to do some soul searching to find out what the question is. 

And the others don’t get what he means, but LOGAN, the smart one, he realizes! He understands, and he comes SO close to saying “Patton, you’re a genius!” that it physically hurt me. (I think Logan is afraid, in that moment, but I’ll leave that analysis for another post) 

Logan is so dang proud of himself for that hat. 

Thomas: How did I used to learn things? Logan: Textbooks. Roman and Virgil: Mistakes. Patton: Puppets!!!  I do find it telling that Virgil and Roman both claimed mistakes as Thomas’s biggest source of learning. It not only highlights their tendency to work together on things such as acting and creating, but also how much they both think about their own pasts...I think it’s safe to say that the two of them are more introspective than Patton and Logan. Patton has learned to be more introspective and aware of himself with time, but for both Roman AND Virgil, that constant inner thought process is at the core of their function. No wonder they gave the same answer to that question. 

Virgil immediately jumping to Patton’s defense, “OR we could hear him out! He’s already made ONE valid point today.” I love how protective Virgil is of Patton, and again, I’ll probably go deeper on this in another post. 

I like how this keeps the canon from the other shapeshifting video, that Virgil has a harder time shapeshifting than the others. I also love how he immediately was like “Nope, nope, I can’t pull this off this was dumb” until Thomas reassures him. 

Patton: “You know what happens when you assume! You make an AS out of SU and ME!”  Patton has the dirtiest sense of humor out of all of them and NO ONE shall convince me otherwise. 

Logan throwing that flashcard, yikes.  

So much anger, but also so much instant regret.

Honestly, I think he’s really scared of himself right here, and it’s no wonder that he offered to leave before he could make things worse. But then when Patton refuses to let him leave again (he remembers what happened last time), he seems so surprised, as though he hadn’t expected Patton to care about his opinion enough to ask him to stay. 

Patton is so on the right track here, jumping STRAIGHT to talking about feelings, even though the others don’t like that idea, he insists, knowing that it’s the only thing that will really help them. 

When Thomas expresses that he feels unworthy of feeling bad, Patton shoots that down, knowing it to be unhealthy. I also feel like the line “It’s not your feelings job to make sense,” isn’t just about emotions, it’s about him too. He knows he’s silly, he knows he doesn’t always make sense (especially the way Logan wants him to), but he also knows his worth as a part of Thomas. And he’s going to do his job, dang it. 

I like how Virgil calls out both Logan AND Roman equally in this, both telling Logan to cool it with the deadlines, but also agreeing that Roman hasn’t been performing adequately. I also like how Virgil isn’t right throughout the WHOLE video too, I mean, he’s wrong right here, trying to fix the issue he sees on the surface without first examining the underlying emotions, because that makes him, Anxiety, uncomfortable. 

When Logan insists that no one is listening to him, Thomas then says, alright, I’ll hear you out. What should we do? 

I love the way that Patton, yet again, was the one able to guide Thomas to the question he needed: Am I doing the right thing with my life?

Logan: “If you asked me, I could list several factors that could be contributing to your doubts.” *looks around the room* 

I love that Virgil finally is just like “woah, Logan, what are some of those things?” He knows that’s what Logan wants, and that he’s not going to continue until he hears that verbal validation. 

Virgil the Count. 

“NO ONE TAKES YOU SERIOUSLY!” “Four. Four uncomfortable characters. In this room.” 

Logan is very concerned about Thomas’s image (and also his own) and you can TELL he’s been thinking about this for some time, but been holding it back because, despite how concerned he is, the others seem happy. So he’s held in what he thinks. But he can’t do that any longer. 

“You eat some jam, accidentally tell a few puns and now you’re all sensitive about not being taken seriously?” “I’M NOT A JOKE!” Someone hug him.  He even flat out SAYS that right now, he’s not being listened to. “I can’t be thought of as such, because there will be times in which I must be heeded, and given our current circumstances, I clearly haven’t been.”

Virgil validating Logan’s opinions even as he expresses his disagreement. 

Virgil: “Don’t start with me Thomas. I have plenty of hate to go around.”  Patton: “Oh very funny Virgil, you cute little muffin. Thomas, you know he doesn’t mean it. Now––”  After this, you can see Virgil’s puppet reel back a little, and it’s a testament to how good the puppeteer is because you can tell that that statement...actually hurt him a little. Sure, maybe he won’t HATE Thomas, but he does sometimes still use the scare tactics to make his point, and in some ways, Patton undermined his point by brushing off his tactics. 

Virgil and Roman having a snark off, I am living.  Roman also realizing when he’s gone too far and admitting his flaws, I am so living.

Roman: I do feel bad.  Virgil: Well then maybe you should say you’re sorry.  Roman: You’re right.  Virgil: Oh, really?  He was so surprised when Roman admitted he was right, and even though he thought that apology was for him and it turned out to be for Logan, I think it’s telling that Virgil is still sometimes surprised when Roman admits that his point was good. 

Roman apologizing is so sweet.  “I still feel bad.” Patton knowing that if he lets Roman express himself in a way he’s comfortable, ah, I just love this whole sequence. 

Roman calling Logan and the others his loved ones <3 

The look Logan gives Patton when Patton starts sing/rapping about how he used to hide his feelings:

Aaaaaaa my heart look at him. 

Patton: “Everybody gets sad, even dads who have people to care for,”  Patton cares so much for the others my heart is so full. 

Virgil participating in the song happily and voluntarily, so much growth since Christmas!!!

Virgil: “I thought that I could take it, all the hate would just be shaken, but when you lo– CARE for someone, not much hurts more than their scorn. I also felt bad.”  Roman: “Oh, come now–”  I just, love everything about this. Virgil’s lines, him almost saying love, but changing it last second, Roman literally reaching out to him, it’s just all so perfect <3. 

The music shifting into minor when Logan interrupts with his frustration, and YES, his and Thomas’s duet is fabulous. I get major Lin Manuel Miranda vibes from their section. (thank you @digitally-analog for the transcription.)  Thomas: This just serves as testament to the fact you have a temperament which is fine, you just haven’t accepted it. If you let them finish they’d get to the– Logan: This just serves as testament to the fact that to me, you’re negligent which is fine, it just works to your detriment. You not letting me finish is just proving my– 

Virgil: “HEY! ... You’re lost. It’s okay. I was lost once too,”  Virgil pulling through for them, YES, and I love how he’s able to just so clearly let the others know what they’re feeling sometimes. “You’re lost,” it reminds me of when in Patton’s room, he said “You’re afraid.” Patton may be most emotions, but those kinds of emotions are ones that Virgil is very familiar with, and ones he can spot easily in his friends, and ones he doesn’t want to see them go through the way he had to.

Virgil: No one wants to be a joke, T, R & P: but a life without jokes is incomplete! 

Roman’s bits, omg. 

Thomas: It’s alright, Princey, honestly it didn’t hurt me, it’s clear you’re the one who’s hurting.  Roman: Huh?  I just, someone take both him AND Logan to therapy, they are so emotionally unaware. 

Virgil: “You feel low.”  Coming through again with that problem identifying. 

P&V: “We embrace you,”  Roman: “That’s rich.”  Virgil (gently): “No one hates you.”  I think it’s so important that this line comes from him, because of all the sides, Roman probably feels like Virgil has the most justification to hate him, but here his is quietly reassuring him. 

Roman and Logan FINALLY talking to each other, THANK YOU 

And Logan realizing that the song was actually part of the conversation, and not random like he thought, you go you silly nerd, you’re getting it! Logic is always there, even in the methods that he doesn’t necessarily understand, and that the silliness and dramatics that Patton and Roman love can still be intelligent. 

“Why did I never question people’s belittling views on what I do?”  THERE IT IS THOMAS YOU GOT IT!

Nice DHMIS reference. 

Logan and Roman making up aaaaaah yay. Thomas and Virgil are so proud! 

Virgil telling Patton how he feels, but trying so hard to do it in a way that won’t hurt Patton’s feelings. I’m so proud of him. 

I’m so proud of ALL of them, they did so good. Thomas did good. Character Thomas and real Thomas, this video was amazing, and I loved it. That’s it for this post, but there will be more to come!  –Taylor <3

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #fanders #famders #sanders sides theories #ts spoilers #sanders sides spoilers #screenshot queen #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders

[ofedmundandlucy]

I still feel ambivalent about this certain topic, but in light of Mental Health Day, I think it’s just appropriate for me to talk about what has been going on with me for the past weeks.

September 12th of this year, I was diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and dysthymia. Probably you are already familiar with PTSD, but I’ll tell you something about dysthymia. Persistent depressive disorder, formerly known as dysthymia, is a mood disorder and a continuous, chronic form of depression. Not as severe as Major Depression, but chronic enough to be deemed as clinically alarming.

If you have been following me for years now, you probably know already that I was severely bullied in school. I was… different. Friends always left me because I could not fit in. There’s this particular day, I can remember it was on March 22, 2011. Literally everyone in class were against me, spitting insults, saying I wasn’t enough. That I was different. Fat. Big. Modest. Isolated. Alone. Introverted. Schizoidal. People stepped away from me as if I had some kind of disease, staring at me and whispering as they saw me. No one wanted to be my friend. That pretty much fucked me up, thus the start of my depressive state. I couldn’t eat. Sleep. Focus. Make a joke. Smile even. I went on spending my days in school without saying a word or producing a sound. How could I be not enough? Maybe, indeed, I wasn’t enough. As I have said, my depressive periods are not really major, but then they are persistent.

PTSD and dysthymia made me feel more alone and useless. They made me feel like I am not worthy of love and respect and everything good in this world. They made my self-esteem drop like crazy, and be jealous of those who don’t have any problem with confidence. They made me forget how to be thankful for my existence. They constantly make me wonder what could the world have been without me. Maybe okay. It wouldn’t make a difference anyway, would it? Sometimes, I get obsessed about the thought of this goddamned place without me. I imagine myself dying.

They shadow the things I should be grateful for, and put a spotlight on the things I cannot have. They gave me severe anxiety of the unknown. They stole my hope. They sucked all the happiness that I could have experienced all these years. They made me vulnerable and sensitive to criticisms. One moment I am happy, then after a second, my mood plummets. I was just realizing that I act happy to mask or compensate for my sadness. But then the severity of my illness rapidly changes that in some days I can’t pretend to be happy anymore. They hinder me from living.

If I tell you I’m okay, I’m not. At least not right now. For the past few months or even when i started posting in April 2011 (I thought by making this blog, I could find refuge. I did.), you have maybe read some of my posts with me venting about my feelings. Over the years, I have received many uplifting messages, and I thank you all for that.

But why do I still consistently feel sad?

I thought I was only being sad, not knowing that I have already been living with a mental illness for more than 7 years. I thought that the diagnoses were going to help me, but it seems that my depressive periods have gotten more persistent. Nevertheless, I’m still learning.

‘It sucks’ is an understatement. No matter how much people tell me it’s going to be fine and that I am worthy, my wrecked brain seems to shut them out. It’s like the word ‘unworthy’ is already locked up in the depths of my mind, and I have lost the key and no one can do anything about it

I feel like I’m pushing people away because of how I behave, which is not what I want but I can’t help doing.

So I should take this opportunity to say sorry about it, particularly to one person here. Sorry @narniadreams for making you cry and not listening to you and wasting your time typing away advice i can’t take. I know you’re also going through a lot, but you still try to help me. I should be thankful for that. I know that sorry wouldn’t suffice if I kept on shutting you and your words out, but I will do my best. I hope you can trust me on this one this time.

I assure you all I can be better. Maybe not now or tomorrow or next week or next month or next year, but someday. I assure you.

It’s also pretty ironic that I have studied Psychiatric-Mental Health Nursing, but then I still let all these happen to me. The truth is, mental illnesses don’t pick their prey. They don’t exclude medical professionals or anyone who have studied the power of the brain. It can happen to anyone, with or without the knowledge of psychology/psychiatry.

That’s why I want you to take care of yourselves holistically. Living with mental illnesses is pretty shitty, you would never want to have one. Prevent yourself from going into deep as much as possible. Seek help or help people out, you’ll never know how much they need it. Please.

Love yourself and don’t let the words and actions of other people ruin you the way it did with me. I’m still struggling as I make this post (My heart is breaking, I am angry at myself, and I don’t know what to do), but that doesn’t hinder me from spreading awareness. I keep on reminding myself to dry my tears and face these challenges. I know that someday I will learn and be free from my cage, my past. Everything will be okay in the end, and if it’s not okay it’s not the end. If you’re having a bad time, do something. It’s okay not to be okay, as long as you know you can get through it. If you’re going through something, smile. Or even when you’re not going through something, smile with us. We are all valid. We all matter

#mental health day #take care of yourselves 💖 #i feel lost and broken but i will persist #it would be very much appreciated if you liked this to let me know you're here for anyone who's struggling with mental disorders 💖💖💖 #and say something to support this post 💖💖 #i love you all so much

[dayinthelifeofanobody]

I’m convinced that everybody hates me. It seems like this is just an irrational fear, but I can’t convince myself otherwise. I see people pretending to like others all the time, and then talk shit about them as soon as they leave. They fake a smile, pretend to have a pleasant conversation, force out a laugh. But as soon as that person leaves, they start to bitch about them. I’m guilty of doing the same thing. Even the people I’m closest with, my true friends. I complain about the things they do that bother me. That’s another reason I’m convinced people hate me. I must seem like a Grade A Bitch. Every time I leave a room, I become paranoid that people are talking about me too. “She’s so annoying.” “She never shuts up.” “Why do we even bother hanging around her?” I can’t help but feel like a burden. I can’t ask people for help because I don’t want to bother them. I don’t want to further annoy them with my problems. Even when I finally speak up about things that bother me, I feel as though I go too far, go too in depth, further annoying the people I’m confiding in. I never get direct invites to things. I always get a second hand invitation. I think I’m being invited out of pity, as an afterthought. They don’t really want me to come, but they don’t want to be rude and leave me out of everything. So, my roommate that actually gets the invite asks if I want to come too. No one actually wants me there. And why would they? I am annoying. I am a bother. I complain too much. I’m not funny. I’m not interesting. I hear myself speak, and every word that comes out of my mouth, every sentence I form, sounds idiotic, or rude, or bland. I can tell people are just waiting for me to finish speaking so they can move on and change the subject. Sometimes they don’t even wait, and just cut me off in the middle of my thoughts. I’m no one’s first choice. I’m the last option, last resort. I’m just so tired. Tired of feeling lonely, tired of feeling unloved, tired of being unworthy, tired of hating every single fiber of my being. Tired of not being good enough. I want somebody to care. Somebody to ask me how I’m doing. To dig deeper when I say I’m good, I’m fine. Because I’m not. I’m a depressed, anxiety-ridden mess. My body image is distorted. I’m stressed. I’m exhausted. I’m alone and no one cares. I’m struggling, but no one bothers to notice. So, I cover it up. I fake the smiles, the laughs, the boring conversations, because I can’t let them see how I’m truly doing. That would just lead to more pity invites and fake friendship. I don’t know how I got this way. I used to be so happy and full of life. My parents got divorced when I was in fourth grade. My dad left for another woman. He didn’t even bother to fight for custody. He was happy  to just see us every other weekend, if that often. He was never around when my parents were married. He was always working, leaving early in the morning before I woke up and often coming home late, well after I was asleep. He didn’t care until he had kids with my stepmom. I love them to death, but he wasn’t loving until them, his perfect angels. Those kids deserved the world and more, and I only got whatever love was leftover. He paid a college tuition’s worth amount of money to send them to a damn preschool yet refused to pay more than a third of my actual, scholarship-reduced college tuition until forced to by law. He never calls, rarely texts, doesn’t bother to check in and see how I’m doing. My friends growing up didn’t care. In fifth grade, my best, and one of my only, friends at my new school told me that everybody hated me, and I was the least popular girl in school. She said that one of the popular guys called me a “fucking douchebag wannabe.” My friends in middle school always excluded me. I was never invited to sleepovers, or to hangout. I sat home, alone, the majority of time while they all had fun. In high school, these same friends continued this same behavior. They ignored me when I asked to hang out but posted pictures of them all hanging out an hour later. They invited me to go to the lacrosse game with them after practice but told me I wasn’t allowed to come over to my friend's house with everyone else before the game because “there were too many people there already” and “her mom seemed annoyed.” They asked me for rides when I got my license as I was the first one and asked to hang at my house when we got a pool. They chose my place as the last resort. They never invited me to parties. They even invited our friend who had a heart condition and couldn’t drink alcohol as a result. Every time I would call them out on their behavior, they would tell me I was crazy and overdramatic. They would say that we’ve had this discussion too many times and “already figured everything out.” They knew I was depressed. They knew I self-harmed. But they didn’t care. I would always check in to make sure if any of them were struggling with something, that I was there for them whenever they needed me. But no one returned the favor. I finally grew the courage to leave them behind. But I was left with no friends. And then I made new friends, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was always a burden, an afterthought, being excluded from something. And now I’m in college, and I have these same feelings of fake friendship. Despite living with my friends and them actively choosing to be roommates with me two years in a row, I feel as though they don’t really want me there. They both have boyfriends now, and I feel even more like a bother, as I’m always a third or fifth wheel. My other friends here don’t care. They only come to me when they need help with schoolwork, or their significant other is busy, or every other friend is busy and they’re too bored on their own. No one reaches out to me. No one here knows about my depression, my anxiety. My mental state has only been a passing thought, the part that just gets looked over as I continue the rest of my story. But that’s not their fault. They don’t know how fucked up I truly am. That sometimes I just need to lay down and cry because I feel like the whole world is out to get me and there’s no point of existing anymore. I don’t have anything to offer that would make someone want to be my friend. So, I hide in my bedroom, my bathroom, my closet, lock the door and sob until I can’t breathe. I go out and feel so alone at parties because everyone around me is conversing and having a good time but I’m just the extra person that has to butt into a conversation if I want to be included. And no one wants to be around a person that butts in everywhere. So, I stand alone with my thoughts and red Solo cup filled with alcohol, and observe everyone enjoying themselves around me, feeling my depression and anxiety cut me off further and further from the rest of the world. And then I put on a façade and smile, laugh at their jokes, and pretend I truly am happy like I wish I could be, all the while imagining all of the horrible things that they could possibly be thinking about me. Even guys don’t want to bother with me. I get drunk, I hook up with a guy, and the communication is either completely gone afterwards or they snapchat me for a maximum of a few months, and then get bored. And I’m left alone. Again. Not sure whether I will find love or if I’m doomed to live the rest of my life alone with my anxiety and depressive thoughts.

e.c.g.: current ramblings from my twenty-year-old mind

[rosealyssa123]

Be careful who you push away.... Some of us don’t come back.

So its been awhile since my last post. A lot of things have happened. A lot more tears have been shed. We did get back together. And I basically begged for him back after he broke up with me because of how much I love him and how much I thought what we had was real. But I'm not so sure it was the right decision anymore. He has so much growing up to do. He literally treats me like I am a piece of fucking garbage. Who talks to their girlfriend the way he does? And he thinks he doesn’t have anger issues? He thinks I’m just “annoying”? Who the FUCK treats their girlfriend like that? No matter how “annoying”? I never yelled at him. I never said cruel rude things to him. BUT, he is allowed to talk to me and treat me like I am nothing? Who does that? Assholes that don’t care about anything else but themselves do that. Assholes that aren’t meant to be in relationships do that. 

And I can just pretend everything is okay and shut my mouth and just say sorry and agree to what he says (what I try to do because he is the boss and always right), but you know. I know that I am a strong, beautiful, woman and I deserve so much more than that. I have been told many times but I have always stayed with him, Because of how much I love him. I always stay. No matter what the fuck kind of fucked up words or things he has done to me. He is the biggest asshole I have ever been in a relationship with. Yes, I have been cheated on. I have been treated like shit so much, But never have I ever felt so degraded and treated like garbage and trash talked by my own boyfriend. Never have I felt like I’m not good enough that he can talk to me the way he does. Never ever have I felt that I am unworthy of loving. He makes me feel like I am not good enough for anyone the way he talks to me. I have changed SO much for him. But he fails to change for ME. He has listed all these things about myself that I needed to change and I have been working on every single thing. I did not deny anything. I accepted everything he said and I have been working on every single thing. But he fails to notice how much I have molded into the person he wants me to be.

And I used to never say sorry. Or continue arguments because (he's wrong). But now I just let him say whatever he wants to say to prevent an argument even if he is wrong. Because that's love. You give up things. There's been times that I don't agree but I just keep quiet. There’s been SO many times that I have wanted to argue because I don’t agree with him, but I say okay anyways. Because he is right. If I say anything how I feel then he will start yelling at me and ask why I am arguing. Honestly everything doesn’t have to be an argument either. There are conversations where you guys don’t yell at each other or raise your voice. Most adults have adult conversations about topics and one can agree to disagree. But for him? It’s an argument or it isn’t. Even if I just want to talk about a topic or address how I am feeling about something; he ALWAYS turns it into an argument. I say I am feeling this way because of this--- next thing you know he is yelling you are annoying and you shouldn't feel that way and arguing with me when I ever just wanted a simple conversation. Adults have conversations about topics. It shouldn't ever have to be an argument. One makes it an argument by choice. 

How do you think I am the issue and you don’t have anger issues when you're in the car with my daughter hitting the steering wheel yelling FUCKING ASSHOLE loud as fuck? And she sits there covering her own ears knowing how angry and how bad the words you said were. Me? I’m used to it. Her? You make it seem like it’s okay to be angry. It is okay to hit the wheel and scream and yell curse words at other drivers. You are the way you are and you won’t change. Also you know it’s bad when she's simply cleaning her toys and asking me where to put them. She goes, “Where does this game go? I don’t want B to be mad and yell at me.” That’s how you know you have issues. 

I have changed in so many ways and he won’t ever see or appreciate it, Because that’s the way he is. He is the most stubborn and hard headed person I have ever met. I have said sorry SO many times for things that I don’t agree on, but know that if I continue it will be an argument. And I HATE arguments. So I agree. I say sorry. But he ALWAYS chooses to cling onto the times where I didn't say sorry. Or the times I didn’t say sorry RIGHT AWAY versus 10 minutes after. But I still say sorry. Especially now. IT has been SO long since I haven’t said sorry. At least a couple years... I always say sorry. I even said sorry when he broke up with me. (Who the hell does that) That is really sad. I apologized when he broke my heart. As if he didn’t do anything wrong. I still apologized anyway.

I say sorry ALL the time now because my actions don't mean anything. We argued earlier because he said I don’t ever say sorry, Which is entirely false. It pisses me off that he could say that. I have said it SO many fucking times. SO MANY. In the beginning no, because I was different. The past 3 years? Hell yeah. I have it written in multiple posts here and in my diary. Or past situations where I said sorry, and he just shut me down anyway. It is SO unfair.... How does he always win? He would argue with me, and I would say Okay I am sorry multiple times actually, and he would say no you aren’t sorry. Don’t say that if you don’t mean it. Or, you're only saying sorry because you don’t want to argue. OR: he would continue arguing with me! So it’s like what; do you want me to argue with you? Then if I don't say sorry you’re going to say I never say sorry, It all just doesn't make any sense. I say sorry, and you tell me I don’t mean it. And blame it on me being sarcastic. But looking back at the situations and my posts in my diary and here, honestly you just want to argue. YOU are the problem, Not me. I have changed so much, and I do say sorry. But its just not enough for you. Nothing is enough for you. Nothing I do is ever going to be enough for you because you are so caught up in yourself and your hard head. I say sorry, and it doesn’t matter anyway. 

There has been at least 5 times where he has done this to me. And still I ALWAYS say sorry. Then the one time I am having anxiety (the other day) and I feel really dizzy and lightheaded and tired, I made a mistake and I apologized 10 min later, He makes that the point and says I never say sorry. Like wtf, I said sorry once I realized what the hell was going on. It’s hard enough to go through anxiety alone and insomnia. and the body pain I go through each day. It’s like going through a day with your whole body numb and in pain and on top of that your mind is in pain and your heart feels heavy like it’s going to explode and you are trying your best to pay attention to everything going on but also you feel light headed. But of course, I cannot talk to him about my pain or anxiety because the last time I did he says all I do is complain all the time. And the other time I told him about my anxiety he left me that night and said he couldn't be there for me. So I keep it all to myself. And yes, sometimes it really does cloud my judgment and clouds my memory and mind. But I am conquering anxiety all alone. I conquered depression all alone. I am in this myself and I have ben kicking ass I feel. The pain in my body is always there, but I choose to ignore it. Sometimes it’s just hurting so bad that I ignore it because I know I can't do anything about it. So maybe I need to do that with him? Ignore the rude things he says to me? Make it feel like normal just like the pain my body goes through? Just like when I feel my heart beating fast in the middle of the night when I can't sleep.

I have to go down on my knee and let him take over. He is so into himself that he doesn’t see anything else. And I can see it now. That's exactly how his mom is. That’s where he gets it from. And that’s why his dad is the way he is. And he calls this dad a pussy. So he is okay with me being a pussy and doing whatever he wants? Because if he says anything, then he will get his ass chewed out. So he sits back and is quiet and lets her do whatever he wants. And I haven’t done that. I choose to still slightly have a voice. And I have the choice now to be his dad or love myself more and release this negative energy and let go of this hurtful relationship that makes me feel so degraded and low as a person. Do I be strong and let him do whatever he wants and walk all over me and be quiet? Or do I leave and be strong and do this for myself? 

[ardent-artist]

As I was cleaning out my room today before I finally move out, I came across the plastic bag I had shoved in the back of my closet and forgot about, filled with everything you had given me. I feel no remorse in donating your belongings as I'm sure someone else deserves them more, but I found myself reading over the letters you had written me. The most recent, meant to celebrate our two year anniversary, was always funny to me. I remember reading over it at the time and thinking, "That's it? Half a page of ambiguous wording that anyone could have written? Two years and that's it?" Then I came across this last line, that read "I want this to be the year I try and help you become more confident in yourself because you and I must learn to love ourselves as we continue to love each other, and I love you with all my heart." I find this funny because you both did and didn't accomplish this over the last year.

In the last 12 months, I came to terms that I had depression and anxiety disorders. You helped me realize this through months of insisting that I was paranoid, and I was the one consistently in the wrong when I questioned the words you told me. When I couldn't focus on anything including my job, and I felt so constantly anxious that I couldn't eat, I finally tried to get help. Between April and June of last year, I had lost 13 pounds. I was severely underweight at 92 pounds. Like I had told you, I began to lose my hair. This only recently went away. When school started in September, I had to wear my hair up so it didn't get literally everywhere, which was really embarrassing. It took me until January of this year to fully recover. I still take medication daily. I always told you it wasn't your fault, that it was bad timing and I would be okay, but I was lying.

But I'm okay now. I have learned to love myself. I know now that I was not wrong. Everything I felt was indeed valid and reasonable. Because of this new found confidence, I have moved on to better things. I do love myself more than I ever have. I've been dating a wonderful boy for a while now. He treats me like a queen and tells me everyday, multiple times (to the point where I have to tell him to chill sometimes) that I am beautiful and that he loves me. He has shown me what a relationship is supposed to be like. Communication, trust, loyalty, kindness- these are key factors that we were missing. He takes me out places, sings to me when I'm sad, and is a little ball of sunshine in my life despite his own personal struggles. I am surrounded by friends who are incredibly talented and loving individuals. I know these people will be in my life for as long as I am alive, and I am fortunate to know each and every one of them. As we both expected and hoped for, I have found the next part of my life here.

I know you'll see this because this whole blog is public, and someone we went to school with is bound to see it, and possibly share in case you missed it. I always wonder what you told your friends, or what you even told your mother. Did you tell them what you tried throwing at me as you attempted to end everything over the phone like a coward? That I was too controlling in your life? That I was limiting what you could be doing? Did you ever tell them what I didn't want you doing? Surprise! I told him to stay away from drugs and alcohol while he was dealing with major depression, like any sane and concerned person would say. I encouraged counseling, medication, healthier coping options. I'll give you credit for trying counseling, and I know it didn't work so well for you, but that wasn't the end game.

This boy and his high school sweetheart fell apart because he chose drugs and alcohol over his girlfriend and caused extreme, unnecessary stress to the both of them.

Yeah, I didn't like your friends at the time because they were terrible influences.You told me on more than one occasion that you felt they had no interest in you, and would exclude you from group chats and hangouts unless you would participate in the above activies. Sounds one sided to me, but what did I know. What I saw was you hurting, and they weren't helping. I'll take the blame on not handling that as well as I should have.

Oh! And one other thing. That little important detail that I asked you over and over again, and you insisted wasn't the case- was there someone else? Well of course there was! Why wouldn't there be. You were too afraid to admit it to me. I'm sure you felt terrible. I was already going through enough, so why add that to the pile? Well, you should have, because for a long time I couldn't believe that the drug thing was the only reason why everything went so far downhill. I had no closure, no reasoning. The boy I had loved just suddenly didn't think I was worth it anymore. It somehow hurts less knowing that I was no longer an interest of yours and you wanted to pursue someone else. At least your morals kept you from cheating on me. Maybe. Who knows. I sometimes wonder who this girl was, but I honestly don't want to know. After all that I did for you- the patience I had when you couldn't bring yourself to take me out for a date because you got too nervous to eat in front of others, how many times I defended you and helped you get out of working so you could rest and recover, how I listened to every word you said and did my best to indulge in your interests even if I didn't like them as much, the amount of love and compassion I gave because I thought you had deserved it- this other girl must really take the cake if she could do all that and more.

How do I know there was someone else? Because silly little you made a post saying you had made a personal sad boi blog, and of course I read your posts. How pathetic that that's how I found out.

I'm not perfect and I never will be. I am still learning to deal with rough situations. But this? Come on.

"But Sabrina, it's been so long and you said you've moved on. Why are you still so hung up about this?" That's a really good question and one I can't answer completely. I think it's because I never got proper closure. You're still out there, and you might think I'm completely oblivious or maybe even forgiving to the bullshit you were feeding me. No, I'm not. You know I always knew you better than you thought. I could read you like a book. I can assure you it's very, VERY difficult to simultaneously heal from this and still love someone else and give them the same attention and trust as I gave to you.

A side note before I end this, and I don't know where else to put it- you told me on the phone that no matter what, you would always be there for me. You wrote the same thing in all of your letters. You need to know that you were wrong. You were never really there for me. You were a shoulder to cry on, sure, but in regular day to day things, you weren't. The entire time we dated, I never felt like you ever cared to listen to what I had to say. Any interest I had, any show, song, hobby, literally anything, you didn't care. You said you didn't care. You made me feel stupid, unworthy, annoying, etc... But me? I listened to every god damn shitty song you played for me, I watched countless wrestling and football matches, I engaged in everything you liked. I never got the same treatment. Just wanted to throw that in there.

So I end this essay with this: every cell in my body wants you to never find love again. You will never feel an ounce of the pain you caused me. At 20 years old, you should know by now not to lie. Do the right thing.

But I don't want to continue to live life with that mindset. I want you to take all the mistakes you made and learn from them. If you find someone else, treat her better. Be upfront about everything. Take her on dates. Listen to her talk about what she loves. Don't shut her down. Be that other half. Listen to her. Value her. Do not take her love for granted. Show her that love can be a beautiful thing if done right.

[singloveandsage]

I’m an empath

Something I don’t talk about to everyone is the fact I’m an empath.

An empath is: a person with the ability to feel the emotional or physical state of another individual.

I was born this way and up until my mid twenties I didn’t have a word for the sensations or experiences that kept happening to me.

  Empaths are sensitive, energetically open and highly attuned. Strangers will often tell them their deepest darkest secrets upon meeting them for the first time. A lot of counselors, healers and artists are empaths.

When I was sixteen and learning to drive, my male, fifty year old driving instructor told me during my first lesson about his marriage breakdown, and the pain he still felt about his divorce and how much he still loved his ex-wife. He went on to say he’d never told anyone about the things he was sharing with me. Of course he was also telling me when to turn, reminding me to use the hand break and to check my blind spots, so I nodded along and hoped not to crash.

A woman on the bus to school once told me everything about her ongoing physical pain. She shared news of her recent operation, chronic symptoms and struggles. It was major personal content and I had no idea what she expected from me as a naive teenager, probably off to P.E class in first period. I offered her my attention and hoped for her full recovery.

I’ve had female customers at work tell me about their menstrual cycles, male customers talk to me about their sex lives, I’ve been at parties where everyone has avoided me, almost as if they know that if they stop and engage the truth will come pouring out of them! I’ve had to leave events early  because the pressure on my head feels like I’m going to explode from all the emotional and physical pain in the room and I’ve experienced symptoms of morning sickness around pregnant women and can guess the sex of babies in the womb.

Whatever someone is feeling, it may take a moment, up to a day, but it will pass through me and I will experience it as if it’s my own emotional or physical state. The trouble I’ve faced without the vocabulary, awareness, guidance or wisdom of being an empath is - fear and shame.

The world is scary when you can feel what other people are feeling, especially when you’re a kid. It’s overwhelming and lonely. It’s also shameful when everyone else is walking around unaffected and you are always struggling with simple things like a total weirdo.

I discovered the term “empath” through my interest in healing. I heard a healer use the word in an interview and then I googled it and some articles came up written by other empaths. There is very little written on the matter and it’s still talked about as a “burden that needs to be managed”.

So once I discovered the term, I went on managing the “burden” the best I could.

It’s been a burden to get a sore throat when someone else next to me is fuming with anger, it’s been a burden to get neck and shoulder pain when someone close by is rigid in their beliefs and it’s been a burden to feel crippling grief over someone else’s loss. How ridiculous when something suddenly becomes about you and not the person it’s actually happening to.

It’s been a burden to not be able to go into a crowd, especially living in Melbourne. Going to Adele nearly killed me. I called Andrew to come save me from a planter box in the middle of the city, surrounded by thousands of Adele fans in varied emotional states.

It’s been an ongoing burden to be social in general. So many people are high functioning depressives or suffering anxiety and doing a great job of hiding it. The ones that don’t start pouring out their woes to me are the ones I can actually feel the most. But, it’s confusing because everyone is talking on the surface about the weather, what they did on the weekend and the holidays they’re planning. The masks, role playing and facades are taking up so much energy to keep things appearing “fine” and “happy” that all I end up processing is other people’s exhaustion. So I go home and never want to leave the house because it’s so tiring to simply exist, let alone, truly live.

I’ve tried everything to manage the burden of being an empath so I can still go out and be a person. I’ve attempted multiple ways of protecting my sensitive nature. After going to psychologists and coaches I’ve tried clearing my chakras, wearing crystals, meditating morning, noon and night, salt baths, energetic shields, being a recluse, no coffee, no alcohol, yoga, reiki, bush walks, essential oils - you name it! It’s all fun and games until nothing actually works.

It’s all wacky and quirky until you lose all hope.  

The major thing I’ve kept forgetting is that more often than not - it’s not actually MY pain. It’s the collective’s pain.

The thing that has made things WORSE is making my empathic nature into a burden in the first place!

IT’S NOT A BURDEN IT’S A GIFT.

Here’s how my default empath process has gone in the past:

1. Ow! I feel pain!

2. It must be something I did wrong?

3. I need to think about this for a very long time and solve it like a puzzle!

4. Shit, I don’t have time to do a puzzle because I have to go to work!

5. I’ll put the pain in a box for now and I’ll solve it later.

6. Now the pain is worse! There must be something really wrong with me!

7. I’m so ashamed that I can’t just be happy and live a normal life.

8. Let’s think about all the reasons it’s shit to be me!

9. Now I feel really bad and I’m never going outside again.

10. Wait, it’s really boring being scared all the time and staying inside, I’m going out to try and be a person.

11. Ow! I feel pain!

And repeat.

How a slightly more aware empath process should go:

1. Ow I feel pain!

2. Don’t worry, pain is just passing through you, it’s not permanent, you don’t have to do anything because it’s already done.

3. Let’s love what ever is arising whether it’s your pain or not

4. I love you

5. I love you

6. I love you

7. Is it your pain?

8. If yes, then continue to love it for as long as it is present

9. If no, bless all humans with more love. They need it! And know you are experiencing their pain as a sign that the world still needs your gift

10. I feel like me again

Being an empath does not mean you are living with a burden that needs you to put all of your energy into managing it. It means you have a gift that needs you to take responsibility for it. Your responsibility is to be devoted to love and not succumb to victimhood.

(Please note! This does not mean engaging with narcissists and indulging in toxic relationships. That's for another post.)

The world does not need more successful people, it needs more love and it’s hard to not be terrified of being a failure in the eyes of others by being the one who’s true power is to love in the face of pain.

All my life I have believed my gift is shameful, and in turn that’s made me fearful of who I am, how I was born and what I will always be. Now, the only way forward from here is by owning my truth. I am not weak. Who would of thought! Not me for the past twenty years.

Believing it’s “my pain” every time has been what’s kept the pain from passing through. The pain hasn’t actually had the opportunity to pass through the way it naturally wants to. Pain is a messenger and teacher, not a permanent resident. It is so often lodged deep in the energetic field with thought processes gripping the pain like industrial prongs, not letting the pain go because of the fear of it and shame in it.

Pain represents the innocent parts of us that we make wrong, evil, unworthy and useless, and they will stay dark, scary and confronting in hope of getting our loving attention some day. It’s time to stop seeing pain as a dark ghoul to run from and suppress because of fear, it’s time to look pain in the eye with our gentle hearts leading the way.

The only way out is through and the only way through is love. And I mean love like a warrior who wakes up with the sunrise and has a sense of duty and purpose until death. You can either lie down and let life steam roll you or you can stand on your own two feet with an inner flame so bright that all darkness is illuminated into blinding light.

I speak as someone who has continually shut down in all her pain, fear and exhaustion having felt the collective devastation all her life with no sign post, “how to” or guide book in sight.

I write this for all empaths out there who may not identify as an empath right now but may be confused, restless and defeated by their ongoing heavy and dense emotional state.

Don’t shield, hide, falsely protect and blame. Life will only get heavier. Acknowledge your sensitivity and empathy as absolute power and majority of your suffering will end in an instant.

Then focus your attention on love. That’s your job, to focus! Without focusing on love you’ll be a tiny ship in an unending ocean of everybody else’s pain. It’s your duty and calling to focus on love as your power and not pain as a burden. And I’m not talking about the fluffy, pale pink, bunny tale wagging love, I mean the roar of a fierce creature of the deep, wing span of a dragon, volcanic, gospel, mount everest climbing will power love! One step at a time, daily devotion to the sole answer to all of the mayhem - love.

Remember pain is no place to reside, it's a messenger of what needs your deepest love.

Let us love this earth back to light one person in pain at a time.

What a gift to be given.

🌿

[katarinaphang-blog]

How She Got Him To Finally Propose After An Ultimatum And A Breakup That Followed

Are you about to give him an ultimatum: marry me or else…?  You’re lucky you get to read this article first.  Fact is the more you rush him, the slower it gets because you’re creating stumbling blocks to your connection.  Ultimatums don’t work cause it’s not love.  If marriage is sacred to you (hence you want it so bad), why mar it with threats and conflicts at the very foundation?  What kind of marriage do you think you’ll get with this method?

Here’s great news from Luna that she shared in the group: “Thank you everyone! Yes I am engaged to my former ex (now fiancé eeee..) and it is just super surreal! I am so incredibly happy!

It’s a pretty long story but basically we got back together about a year and a half ago when he came back to me and told me that he loved me and begged me to give him another chance. I think he could sense somehow that I had moved on (we haven’t spoken in a little over a year at that point!) But anyways I added him to my rotation of men and then tried my best to just stay as positive and easy-going as I could be. I am an extremely type-A person and can easily fixate on little things too much but this time around, I just let him take the lead.

We had been together 5 years and I was ready for marriage and he wasn’t… but we were both really young when we started dating (around 19) so in hindsight I shouldn’t have been in such a rush. My best friend got engaged the last year we were together so I really got the wedding bug from that and would bring it up pretty often.

But the more I would bring it up, the more he would shut down about it. I wish I’d known more about leaning back at that time instead of letting my anxiety continue to push me towards asking for constant confirmations of his love and how much he cares about me…

I would talk about what I wanted in a wedding and kept bugging him and asking about when he wanted to look at rings even though he hadn’t really spoken much about weddings or engagement. Looking back, it’s pretty cringeworthy but I just thought I was dropping harmless little hints!

So because we couldn’t come to any sort of resolution (and I think because he felt pressured and got skittish), he ended things.

This time around I never brought up marriage or anything and let him lead the way and it all appears to have worked much better :).

Everything flowed pretty easily into place from there! He quickly took the prime spot in my rotation and then a couple months into it, he asked me to be exclusive, and since then it’s been just really loving and wonderful! I just focused on the present and being with him and I firmly believe that letting go of the expectations and worries about the future is what led me to this engagement today!

I know I didn’t post a lot in this group but I did read Katarina’s book and focused my energy on being my best most goddess-like self in the relationship and it seems to have worked! I have never been happier or more in love!

And also he picked out a gorgeous ring!    Thanks for listening everyone!”

Luna Learned Giving Men Ultimatums Doesn’t Work

Luna is one of the 18 reported engagements this year so far.  And she’s one of the 7 ladies -at least- who not only got her ex back but got him to propose marriage in no time as well upon practicing what I teach. She learned from the marriage ultimatum mistake.

Many of you come to me cause you just have no clue how to move your relationship forward, or more likely how to make him move the relationship forward.  You have tried different things, mostly the communication advice you read on the net and how to communicate what you want to your man.

And many of you catch wedding bugs like Luna.  Your friends are getting married and having babies and you start comparing your relationship to theirs.  You begin to feel unloved, unworthy and undesirable…cause why else does he take so long to want to seal the deal (even though it’s just been 2 years or less, at times), right?

In Luna’s case it was five years, but remember they were young too. They had a lot of time to get to know each other and grow up as a person before deciding on this lifetime commitment (or a supposedly lifetime commitment).

Some of you have been married -and divorced- before.  Some more than once, yet you still associate marriage with love, commitment, longevity and apparently happiness.  Haven’t you learned to dissociate the two through your marriage failures?  Apparently changing a mindset isn’t as easy as it sounds.

But I’m telling you, your mindset is why you make one relationship mistake after another.  So long as your mindset is about getting something from a relationship, you will always be ultimately disillusioned.

I get it you want the ring and you want the status and babies.  I get it your biological clock is ticking.  But before dwelling on that, ask yourself: how is your relationship?  Marriage should be icing on a solid relationship, not the other way around.

Most of you get this upside down.  You’re more concerned about a contract than about the reality and state of your relationship.  So I repeat, how is your relationship?

Is it easy?  Is it fun?  Is it great?  Are you bonded?

Or is it rocky, full of distrust and arguments?  Do you fight a lot?  Do you react a lot to what he does or doesn’t do, says or doesn’t say?  Do you even like each other most of the time?

Giving Men Ultimatums Feels Like Control

Funny thing is most who insist on a marriage ultimatum now don’t even get along that well with their guys.  They think if only he would propose I’d like him better.  Or I’d feel more secure. Or I wouldn’t need to nag so much. (Have you implemented the 7 traits of a high-value woman?  You might want to start there first).

Here’s what most of you won’t even realize:  if you need marriage so bad it’s a sign that your relationship is really not that solid. That’s how the one-down mind operates. It needs signs of more commitment. Those who have a very solid relationship won’t worry about marriage cause they enjoy their relationship too much to worry. Women in solid relationships aren’t giving men ultimatums.

So if you want to know if you both are ready for marriage, it is from the lack of concern about marriage. Then when that eventually happens you’ll marry for the right reason which is to celebrate your love and for other benefits that marriage offers since you know you’ll spend the rest of your life with each other anyway.

So yeah…a lot of times a lot of men will need to feel that kind of feeling to be 100% sure that he wants to marry you.  And a lot of it has to do with time, when you have spent enough time getting to know each other’s temperament that you two have a chance to go a long haul.

And what do you think when you start nagging and being sour about it?  How would that make him feel?  Would it make him feel more sure about you that you’ll be easy to live with for the rest of his life?

Or the opposite?

Giving Men Ultimatums will Breed Conflict

It goes without saying.  How can you mar this supposedly sacred union with threats and conflicts?  Even if you get what you want, will you feel fully satisfied?

I bet not.  You’ll think, “How come I have to employ force to get what I want the most, while so and so got it without effort?”

Then you’re back at square one.  That feeling of being unloved is still there.  It’s still there cause nothing has changed internally.  A man or relationship status won’t fix what’s broken inside.

So learn from Luna.  Work on your mindset, work toward self-love because only one person can give you the love you need: yourself.  When you love yourself so fully, he has no choice but to love you with all of his being.  And he’ll do the right thing for both of you when the time is right.  Meanwhile enjoy the ride.  Nothing is under your control anyway, other than your reaction to things.

In the last cycle 3 of Four Component of Melting His Heart, I revealed the 7 reasons why men marry some women -even when they say they don’t want to marry, ever- and stall the relationship on others. If you understand these principles you will no more chase marriage or feel the need to be giving men ultimatums because the more you do it the less he’ll want to marry you. It’s super counter-intuitive like most of my teachings.

And the good news is you can attend this hit program live as well with Module 2 of Feminine Magnetism Group Coaching: Understanding Men and Four Components of Melting His Heart.  It’ll start sometime in July.  We’re currently still on Module 1 Journey Inward (and you still can sign up for this important program as well).

This program will blow your mind away. Everything you believe about men and relationship will be blown off the water. It’s still not too late to sign up, plans are available.

MORE:  Why Is The Ego Keeping Your Relationship Stalled and How To Overcome It, Once And For All

Want the same result and to learn more the ins and outs of inspiring the man you adore to commit to you THE MOST DEFINITE WAY?  Here’s the most affordable way:

by working with me face to face in a very relaxed, fun and intimate setting in my own home!

 And you will get some of the coaching programs I mention here as bonuses as well so you can start listening to them before coming to the weekend getaway.  I promise you it’ll be one of the most worthwhile investments you’ll ever make in your life.  Your life will turn upside down for the better after the retreat if you practice all the skills I teach there.

Have you read my book yet?  If not grab it here because you will learn so much about a lot of things that haven’t worked for you in your love life and how to fix them.  I have just added a new bonus teleclass you don’t want to miss: “How Feminine Magnetism Is The Solution to Every Relationship Problem You Have.”

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