#and i got myself an exercise bike so i could cycle at home

[miodiodavinci]

you know what actually it was very fucked up that even when i was in the ""healthy"" weight range i was still being pressured by my doctors to lose weight because my bmi was on the upper end of the range and not the lower end. like.

what the fuck was up with that.

#tw weight #tw body issues #it wasn't even like 'oh you're bordering on overweight let's work on that' #it was that i was slightly above the middle of the range #and they pressured me to ''''start thinking about my health'''' #despite the fact that i was literally physically active and eating balanced meals #what the fuck #and it all just has me #very scared about today #because i'm still in the process of recovering from basically being trapped in a single room #chained to my desk due to school and work #with no access to a kitchen or a fridge #for roughly five years #i've started focusing on eating more fresh foods again #with plenty of fish and veggies #and i got myself an exercise bike so i could cycle at home #instead of relying on both my partner and i being available to hike or walk #but like #what if my doctor doesn't take that seriously #what if they just shame me for not already being fit #what if they act like i'm just making excuses and lying to them #u gh hghh it's so scary and i hate to do it but i have to go or else the horror is going to literally ruin my life #i hate fatphobia in the medical industry i hate fatphobia in the medical industry i hate fatphobia in the medical industry a a a a a

[notsosilentsister]

Best, worst, ambivalent gifts

Most questionable gift - I knew that my mum wanted me to lose weight, so for Mother's Day I gave her coupons for me spending half an hour on the exercise bike. It kinda worked - mum was super-happy, and I did lose weight (for a while). But I probably didn't do myself any favours here, because it set me on a path of weight-cycling, which never led to any longterm weight loss and was presumably a bit hard on my heart (bioglogically and metaphorically).

Best gifts - there are a lot to choose from. My parents have sure spent a lot of money on me over the years, and I would be lying if I claimed that didn't often improve my life in rather significant ways eg. they paid my way through college, for two master degrees, for the better part of my twenties, leaving me with no student debt, and they paid for half of my house. I remember when mum first told me about her real estate plans, I was almost worried, because I somehow couldn't quite match her excitement. I thought it would feel super weird, to get something so big, having done basically nothing to earn it. But surprise, surprise, as soon as that house stood, I forgot all my scruples. I moved in two years ago and not a day passes without me thinking at least once "Wow, I really love my house". I feel it goes a bit against the spirit of the exercise, to first pick something extremly expensive - it’s fairly easy to gift something life-changing/memorable if you just spend unholy amounts of money. But not gonna lie, in the list of best gifts, the house is always going to rank pretty highly.  Another great gift was when my friends threw me a surprise birthday party for my 18th birthday and invited all of our class and everyone actually came, even my crush. It was a bit of gamble on my friend's part - I'm not usually much of a party girl and teenage-me often felt rather disconnected and out of sync with other people (my age, but honestly, also in general); I might have easily been the type to completely hate that sort of thing. But turns out, I'm not; I was completely floored by that gesture in the best way, utterly beside myself. I don't remember much about that night, only a moment in the morning, among the leaving guests and the empty bottels, when I wished I could rewind the clock and go through that door again, and be completely floored all over. My favourite gift from brother is a mixtape (the only mixtape I ever got). I don't listen much to music, but there's one song on it that will always make me sentimental: "Happy Birthday Lisa", written by Michael Jackson, from an episode of the Simpsons. I'm the older, not the younger sister, but the general sentiment hits just right. Best and worst gifts I gave - that's a hard one to answer for me; I'm afraid I'm not a terribly ambitious gift giver. I do like the idea of picking gifts for loved ones, and I like to think I'm not cheap, but my time-management is sub-par and my approach is usually fairly last-minute, so the results can be somewhat underwhelming. I like to think that I do have a good sense what kind of souvenirs to bring home for Mum from a journey, or what kind of books to give to my brother (although he often seems happiest about gift cards, to be honest), and I feel I also usually get it right with my Aunt (last year I gave her a Storyworth-subscription, following a recommendation on Mefi, and she seemed very enthusiastic about doing all the prompts). But I'm repeatedly stumped when it comes to Dad for instance, and while I hope my gifts are usually welcome, I don't think I've ever pulled off one that was particularly memorable. At least I think that my bad gifts are generic at worst; I do hope that I never committed one of the truly mortal sins, like buying something for myself and trying to sell it as a gift for another person, or buying a gift with fraught implications about desired behavior, or something like that.

#best gifts #worst gifts #journal #personal

[injuredcyclist]

Fixes and Shifts

About 15 years ago when I was living in Spanish Harlem in NYC I bought a carbon fiber road bicycle. It was the kind of bike I wanted terribly as a kid. We used to drive two hours to Rapid City and I'd stare at the $1k+ bikes they had for sale at Scheels in the mall. It was a Specialize Paris Roubaix Compact. I rode it constantly when I lived in the city.

I had owned it maybe three weeks and I commuted from my apartment on 110th to the office I worked at on Wall St. I was riding on the West Side Greenway with my hands in the drops (for some stupid reason) and there were a lot of other people out. I wasn't paying as much attention as I should have been and didn't have as much fine control at that point in that riding position. Another cycling commuter and I crashed head-on. I went head-over-handlebars and came down on my helmet and right shoulder. I don't even think the impact knocked him down; he was riding an old, beat-up steel everything mountain bike. It probably weighed twice what my ride did and was the kind of thing you wouldn't care too much if it got stolen.

The shoulder hurt like hell but I was miles from my apartment, the bike was in ridable condition, and I didn't want to walk in clip-ons or call a cab so I slowly rode home, not able to put much of any pressure on that shoulder. Hurting the next day I went to the ER, where an x-ray turned up no broken bones. It kept hurting so an MRI followed. Diagnosis: small labral tear. Treatment: for some fucking reason, just physical therapy and no surgery.

Fast forward 15 years. I've just turned 40 and am closing in on two years sober, having swapped my carbon road bicycle for a 3 cylinder 900cc Yamaha motorcycle. My shoulder still bothers me, and has at a low level for all of the intervening years. I can many times very accutely feel where the tear is, and with moderate exercise (shoveling three or four inches of snow for example) or if I move just right or lean against a wall or door jam too long it hurts.

A new MRI and evaluation, because I want to put 20k miles on my Yamaha this year, I want to go back to Ontario camping, and I want to hike more. Can't have this keep lingering, and recovering and body upkeep is only going to get more time consuming as I keep getting older. Also, its fucking cold here in mid Michigan, and the days are short. It was -1F when I woke up today. If I'm going to have a useless right arm for a couple months now is perfect time.

Tear is still there, with some arthritis sprinkled on top. I'm having surgery this time, scheduled for the day after I get back from a work trip to Corporate. My pre-op appointment is in 10 days, at which time I'll know how long recovery will be. Could be in a sling for a week, could be a month. Sorta oddly hoping for the month because I want them to not just clean up stuff, but actually anchor and repair the tear.

This change is leading to another. Cleaning up who I follow and what I post, and blocking some followers I think were bots the whole time but left around so I'd feel better about myself. I still have no memorized idea of what the rules and culture are here anymore. I'll be reblogging political posts a lot less. maybe just liking them more. Shift toward riding and moto culture, with stars/astronomy, and animals. Those three represent the longest held, most continuous interests I've managed to sustain in my life, along with two or three sci-fi universes (Dune, Star Wars, and Battletech). Best I can do with my ADHD-addled mind.

Looking for a new pharmacy where I can get generic Vyvanse consistently. Meijer isn't going to carry it for at least six months because they aren't nationally cost competetive for the available supply, per one of the pharmacists where I get my stuff filled. Also going to finally see about that professional autism screening. I've taken two or three self tests/evaluations that float around online and I've come up with positive results on each one.

Here's to changes, and learning how to do a lot more with my left hand.

#life stuff #surgery #labral tear #changing up how i run this silly thing

[starcrossed-sky]

(previous anon again) oh yeah asian sizing is rough x(. i haven't checked my waist size in literal years but it should be 40+ inches or even 50+, who knows. i mostly buy XXXL (or 3X, as it's called) IF it's offered, but whenever it is it's either always highly coveted or in limited quantities, and thus the first to sell out. some places have bigger sizing where i can get by on XXL/2X, some smaller where even 3X is not enough for me. buying clothes was such a trifle that for many years i just preferred to gradually steal from my dad's closet. thankfully he was a stingy old man and welcomed that!

about anemia- yep, i am an estrogen gas tank haver and i've long suspected i might have it, even though i've never gotten checked out (due to money, time, other illnesses, worry i'm gonna be told "just lose weight/exercise more," etc.). puberty really fucked me up... with ovarian cysts, menorrhagia, and just endless amounts of pain pain painnn starting from age 10. had 30+ days nonstop bleeding cycles a few times and other such fucked up stuff. in my early teens, my bed and the house bathroom could look like a horror game whenever i was menstruating lol. to this day, i am unable to detangle my dysphoria/gender identity from the pains of "growing into a woman" (which i never consented to). i don't know whether i would feel exactly the same about my gender if my experience with puberty wasn't quite so awful for medical reasons.

puberty also about when my fatigue started and gradually got worse over the years. as far as i and any relative can say, i was a very outgoing and energetic child. i couldn't read a lot of the social cues but was nonetheless considered a delight by adults who were entertained with my rambling about various topics as well as by fellow children who found a ready playmate in me. i ran and biked and gladly tagged along on long trips with my parents without a problem. meanwhile, as a teenager and even up to today i have a permanently fucked up rotating sleep, tiredness that never goes away and only gets worse with exercise, and a negative amount of energy such that daily commute to my job is the maximum my body can take and i hardly leave my bed on the weekends.

chronic fatigue is a consideration as well, and even though i know there's technically no cure for it, i still hope there's something better for me. for example, during the quarantine, i got to work from home and not only saved all the money i spent on transport but also time spent commuting and pretending to be busy in the office (with air conditioning uncomfortably cold at 17C). i had time and flexibility in my sleep to keep on top of chores at my own pace, and overall felt probably the biggest increase in my quality of life, even though i was basically a shut-in with a job, haha. just... longing to live slow and unburdened, while also still providing for myself, y'know?

For anemia, if there's somewhere around where you can donate blood, try checking there. A hemoglobin count of less than 12 is anemic (and they'll likely turn you away if you're too low) - it's the simplest blood test out there, like blood sugar they only need a finger prick these days to check. I have to get mine done every time I get my man juice tests done.

Your puberty horror story also genuinely sounds like PCOS which... fat gain and retention is a known symptom (and PCOS people are way more likely to be gender variant according to a Japanese study a few years ago). You might be able to sell your doctors on getting you tested for it if you play the "this might be why I'm fat" angle. What you're looking for is an elevated testosterone level in comparison to "normal" cis women.

As someone who routinely sleeps on the clock at my work from home job i feel you on the last one.

#kneeling anon

[embracing-my-snail-era]

Movement and Fitness

tw: diet culture, ed

So, my relationship with fitness and exercise have been... interesting.

Growing up I never saw myself as athletic. I was the kid that read books during recess and I never really did any sports.

In my college years I really got into Kpop and wanted to look like my favorite idols. Grant it, I was already very thin but want "long lean lines" so I started eating even less then the dismal amount I ate and started doing pilates and yoga on youtube. I think I was doing the blogilates challenges at the time. Although it never lasted long. I would have two weeks of being "consistent" and then not do anything for months.

This went on for years where I barely ate and occasionally did yoga or pilates. Also when I did eat I made sure it was always "healthy, organic, natural, low carb" etc.

Overtime I started doing yoga more for the mindfulness of it. In my mid 20's I really got into hot yoga. It was a great stress reliever, but I still wasn't eating very much and I still saw movement as a means to burn calories.

Then the pandemic hit. I was at least doing hot yoga (albeit slower paced) twice a week prior to the pandemic shutdown. Then the studio closed and I switched to working from home and didn't move at all for almost a year. I think I was averaging 500 steps a day. Any fitness I had been maintaining prior was all out the window now.

Then in May 2021, I woke up with a pain in my stomach worse then anything I had felt before and I have had some debilitating cramps before..... When I got to the hospital there wasn't any clear cause but they proposed my lack of movement and barely eating was causing damage to my digestion..... The pain subsided when I had food and walked around at the hospital. After that I realized I had to make some changes. So..... the next month, I bought a peloton XD

As for diet I did a deep dive into nutrition and eating and found the AMAZING Abbey Sharp and Elaina Efird on youtube. Actual registered dietitians giving good quality advice. I started getting into intuitive eating. Although in the beginning I had to still track to make sure I was getting enough as prior I was getting around 1,000 calories a day and now was shooting for at least 2,000.

Then the peloton effect. So one great thing about the platform is the don't talk about diet culture at all. Its all about joyful movement, getting stronger, doing hard things, and having fun. It was such a mindset shift. I went from wanting to stay super thing to wanting to be strong and do cool things. I ended up buying the peloton tread six months after the bike.

Although it was a reality check. When I first got sucked into the peloton world in June 2020 my fitness stats were:

Could only lift 5 pound weights and barely do a dead-lift with 10 pound weights (peloton has strength classes on the app)

Longest I could last was a 15 min cycling class where I had to stop and catch my breath halfway through.

Standing for longer then 5 minutes made me lightheaded.

Couldn't hold a plank on my knees or do one push on my knees

I had 0 core strength

Walking longer then 5 minutes left me winded.

I was at least semi flexible thanks to all the yoga......

I was objectively very weak......

A year and a half later I can:

Use 15/20 pound weights for upper body and 30/40 pound weights for lower body.

I can do 5 full pushups and hold a plank for 90 seconds

I can stand for long periods of time without getting light headed

I can do 45 minute cycling classes and have done hour long cycling sessions.

I have a strong core!

I can go hiking with my friends and keep up! I've also taken hour long hiking classes on my tread :)

I'm more flexible and can now do crow, half moon, and warrior 3 in yoga!

I put on weight and muscle and although I'm no longer "societal thin" I feel so much better in my body and have adopted a body neutral stance. I care what my body can do and not what it looks like.

I feel so strong now!

But in 2023 I have a new fitness focus and an evolved relationship which I will talk about in my next post!

#fitness #tw: eating habits #tw: ed #peloton #working out #health #body neutrality

[ist-das-kunst-oder-kann-das-weg]

Yesterday, I finally handed in Big Scary Assignment! I am very grateful to the lecturer for giving me an additional week, which I sadly did not really use, but still, nice. At least I did not hand in something handwritten. On Thursday I felt ready to go crazy. Or rather halfway there already. The only thing that kept me sane was playing accordion until my fingers didn’t want anymore. I went to bed at like 8am on Friday morning. I really did not want to do something like that after my writing my bachelors thesis. To stop myself from doing stupid shit like that or worse, I will try to come up with a plan that involves designated study hours but not to many. Rather spend a few hours studying than hours trying to get myself to study because longer hours seem too intimidating. 

Some four or five hours of sleep later, I went into town to see whether they had any black friday sales, something I don’t really like doing, but everything is more expensive here already, and I actually like window shopping. Contrary to my expectation, I actually went to purchase something from the skate shop which I actually considered buying before and which still was in the sale. So, win win, I did not spend too much money and also did no go for one of those sales, so my honour is still intact. Afterwards, I bought some macarons and (because we’re back to at least one proper meal a day, yay!) went to try out the street food place. Thank god it is in a hall so I could warm up from the rain outside. I decided to go for the Korean place because they seemed to be in a sweet spot of price and portion sizes (which I might have underestimated). I took something they called Korean Fried Chicken (KFC) and it was really really really tasty. I never knew chicken could be thaaat tasty. Now I just want a version without the chicken, only the crunchy stuff and the sauce please. 

Today, I wanted to go for nice short bike ride in the sun, because the forecast promised me sun until night comes. They fucking lied. I only wanted to ride like 20-25km, twice or thrice around the lake. Unfortunately, I missed the right route and, because I hate turning back, decided to go for a short round through some villages. Yeah. Somehow, I got kinda lost and ended up cycling 50km, which might not sound too much, but I really didn’t do too much sport and definitely not endurance sports in the last few weeks/months. I didn’t have anything useful with me besides my phone and some water, which mostly was fine, but I really should have brought the lights. It got so fucking foggy, the picture above is one of the spots where you could see pretty far. I am just glad that Danish drivers are pretty careful. I was really afraid of being run over by a car, lol. Then I also was out way longer than anticipated so I really had to hurry home because the dark already started settling in. Still, it was pretty nice. 

Overall, I spent some quality time with myself the last two days. Tomorrow, I will go skating again (indoors, with pizza, yay!) and I am really looking forward to meeting a few people again (I spent a lovely Saturday last weekend with them, totally unexpected but absolutely, urm, hygge). Sadly, I also have to do another assignment, but there it’s only one exercise (which I hope to find online somewhere, hm). Even worse, it’s my turn to sweep the floor in the community space and I guess the person whose turn is to vacuum the floor will do so rather late, urgh. And they seem to be having another party, just as I thought I might not have to swipe up someone’s excrements from the party yesterday. Whatever, by tomorrow evening, everything will have worked out one way or another.

#dear diary

[astormyjet]

Winter of 2018 - Summer of 2021 TIME FILES WHEN YOU’RE IN YOUR 20s!!!!

OH BOY. It’s been three years (or more) since I updated this. “Time is a weird soup!” to quote a fave. I guess I quit tumblr around the time there was a purge of content and creators and a smack down on a lot of the fandom communities. Tumblr has always been something of a crapshow though so I’ve been more productive with my time than I was in some ways, but I’ve also found other ways to waste my time. *cough twitter/netflix/youtube/MTGArena cough*.

General Life Achievements since 2018 -JLPT N3 GET in 2019! -Blackbelt GET in 2018! -TESOL 120 Hour and BE 50 Hour Cert from online provider GET in 2021 -STUDENT LOAN BANISHED (Thank you grandparents) -Survived Apartment flooding in early 2020. -Mystery anxiety related illness and chronic pain in my left leg from early 2020 - Present. -A mythical 6th and 7th year on the JET Programme. -Started posting on Instagram a lot more about my wanderings around Matsuyama/Uwajima. Mainly old buildings and stray cats. @astormyknight -Surviving so far in Japan with old rona-chan.

2018 was rough. I was given an additional school in the first semester (March to July) as we had someone find a better job. I enjoyed it, but it was a bit of a rough go especially when I was transferred that August after three fantastic years at Tsubaki JHS and ES and only a semester there. I legit went through the five stages of grief - which I think is another reason I stopped blogging. I was given my current base school along with four other schools. Going from 2(3) to 5 schools was a bit of an adjustment. I still feel a bit spread out.

That said, I keep running into teachers and students who were at the Tsubaki’s. The teachers shuffle around every April, so it's always a lottery with which new faces are going to be old friends (or enemies…). A couple of kids moved and transferred into my current schools from Tsubaki too. So I have one kid I can say I've been teaching for 6 out of the 7 years I've been here!

One of the kids who was in JHS 3rd grade when I first got here (in 2015!) hangs out around one of my favorite cafes, so I got chatting with him recently. He's in his second year of nursing school - his class nearly broke me in the first year, it was really a trial by fire with those kids. I was 22 then, and he’s 20 now, so it was interesting chatting to him about that first year of teaching. His younger sister was one of my favorite students too, she was in the group of kids that graduated in the March of 2018, the year group that went through Tsubaki JHS with me - they’re newly minted University students now!

This Thursday morning when I was cycling in to work, a kid who was 2nd year JHS when I left  (so 2nd or 3rd year JHS now) pulled up with their Mum in a van and got their mamachari out of the back to bike to school. The franticness of it all was hilarious. Their Mum legit sat on the horn until I pulled over. I was so happy to run into this kid, even at social distance and both of us late to work/school - because we both remembered each other and as they were going around the corners they were yelling each time they turned and humming the old elementary school directions chant and pelting me with questions about what I’ve been up to.

I've had so many students and schools now, that everything is kind of running into a blur. I remember flashes of kids faces and voices, random memories of in class or out of class shenanigans out of the blue. Also, I now, more than ever, have issues remembering kids' names, but I still know their faces (even with their masks), whose homeroom class they were in, who their friends were and which club they were in. I get random flashbacks to past conversations with them when I see them on the street or we run into each other. I feel bad because the first thing former students ask is ‘Do you remember my name?’ and I always have to be like, ‘Honestly, no, but I remember you did this on x day, x month in x classroom’.

Socially in 2018 -2019 - a few of our friends went home and things shook up a little. Our DnD group changed a bit - one of our players stepped into the role forever DM (THANK YOU RALPH). From memory the newbies were great - some of them just went home at the start of last month and it’s weird not seeing them around (JESS DO YOUR BEST!). I think we only have one or two people left from that rotation. There’s no 6th year ALTs, and only two 5th years.

Aug 2018 - Aug 2019 was the year of Hiura - my mountain school. Dang man, they were so cool. The students of the JHS and the ES combined barely hit 30, so each class was between 3-10 students depending on the grade. It was easier to get to know the kids, their abilities and their goals than it has been for me at other schools. I miss it so bad, being in nature once a week did my country-kid heart so good! The bugs! The frogs! The river! The mountain! The monkeys! The lizards! The dilapidated houses and hidden shrines!!!! The random crabs in the English room...I forgot that there was such a thing as freshwater crabs, and being right next to a river, the invasion wasn’t as out of place as I first thought...  

The area is so picturesque and calming. Every week up there was a small adventure (after getting over my motion sickness from the bus ride up). The kids were constantly pranking either myself or the main English teacher. There was always some new weird bug or lizard in a tank to be educated about. There were chickens on the way to the JHS that used to escape from their cardboard box prisons to run riot on the gardens. There were old people to freak out with my youth and foreignness! The kids also got to do a lot of extra classes, sumiyakai (making charcoal the traditional way), planting and maintaining rice paddies, setting up vegetable gardens, raising fireflies, conserving a special breed of fire lily (only found in this particular mountain valley) and another rare flower, wilderness training ect.

I wish I could have stayed there a lot longer but SOMEONE (read...the BoE) decided that schools had to be shuffled again(thank goodness the dude who has it now was able to keep it from the 2021 shuffle, he's the best fit for the school). I had so many good memories from there, I wish I had been more consistent in writing it down. I do have a bunch of photos and videos from there though, so that's nice. The only thing I don’t miss is the bus trip up and down - not only was it motion sickness, there was a healthy dose of fear each ride as the driver brought us perilously close to the edge of the mountain drop…

2019 - 2020 was interesting. With the school I got given instead of the Hirua’s I was roped into more demonstration lessons which was a lot of pressure because I was also involved quite heavily with the JHS observation and training lessons too. They were somewhat rewarding, the third graders are now super smart 5th graders, but the teachers  who need to embrace the new curriculum and ways of teaching really haven’t taken on anything from the lessons....

Outside of work as well, I was given the chance, thanks to an ALT buddy of mine, to join in with the local festival. It's been one of the biggest highlights of my time here, and I am gutted it’s been cancelled for the last two years, but I understand the reason…. I was able to travel to Okinawa too during that summer for an international Karate seminar with the Dojo I train with. I met the head of the style I currently practice and a bunch of people from around the world. I also got to see Shuri castle before it burned down. So that was a stroke of luck. One of the places I want to go when/if we get out of this pandemic is Okinawa. I want to see more of those Islands so bad. Just before the whole pandemic thing too - I managed to see the Rugby World Cup, a Canada vs NZ match, I even ran into Tana Umanga in Oita city!!!

2019 - 2020 was supposed to be my last year on JET, so I was frantically Job hunting. I went to the Career Fair in Osaka in early Feb/Late January 2020. I applied and got interviewed for a position in Sendai in early Jan 2020. In the end though - the Rona hit. We started hearing whispers of it around the end of 2019, then the cruise boats happened, and then Japan refused to cancel the Olympics...every holiday season there is a new wave of infections, my nurse friends in Tokyo are struggling....my teacher friends in more populous areas of Japan are struggling…

JET couldn't get new ALTs for 2020-2021, I took the extra year when it was eventually offered, as the one job I had managed to get a serious offer for was hesitating because with the rona setting in, things were uncertain. There was a lot of time spent adjusting to the new rules surrounding what we could do in class with the kids as well as textbook change. Schools shut on and off during the spring months. 

I also got a reminder of my mortality mid May with an unrelated illness which is still smacking me around a bit - stress/age, it does things to the human body it has no right to. It's only been in the last three months I’ve been able to exercise like I used to, I’ve put on a bunch of weight I can't shrug off (one part medication, another part diet) My relationship with food needs to change, and I really need a kitchen that allows me for more than one pan meals. I also need to figure out what to do with a left leg that is in constant pain from the knee down and a heart that misses beats when stressed out (mentally and physically…). 

My apartment also got flooded by the guy upstairs at one point, I spent most of late February/early March living in a hotel while my walls and floor got redone - I think this was one of the things that really stressed me out and kicked my anxiety right up a notch, it was right when things were getting REALLY bad with rona-chan in Hokkaido and schools were shutting down here as it was filtering into the prefecture and so Japan closed schools for the first time…

Classes in covid times have been weird. We’ve been wearing facemasks full time since the early stages of the pandemic (March 2020) - so I admit that I get a bit pissed off seeing both Americans and New Zealanders back home bitching about just having to start wearing them full time in public. I have asthma and have been suffering with the things on during the 30*C plus with high 90s humidity summers. Teachers were offered vaccines late July 2021, just days before the Olympics were open - and I finished my two shots in the middle of August. But the overall distribution and take up of the jab has been slow.  As mentioned above, we can't play a lot of the games we used to play with kids in classes anymore, and a lot of the activities outlined in the textbook curriculum need to be adjusted too, so we’ve had to be creative. We use hand sanitizer a lot more too. One of the things I miss the most though, is eating lunch with the kids.

Socially from summer 2020 - now 2021 we played a lot of DnD and board games, both online and in person when we could. There were no new ALTs again for the 2021-2022 JET year, and those of us who were in 6th year were offered a 7th. Four out of six of us took it. As a whole we’re down from a peak of 38 ALTs for Junior High and Elementary school to 22 for now. We hopefully will get a new person at the end of September, and 4 more in November. Which will bring us to 27. This has led to ANOTHER round of school shuffles.

Summer vacation has been weird the last two years. With rona-chan, we haven’t really been able to travel. All the summer festivals (all the Autumn and Winter ones too!) have been cancelled, so the changing of seasons just feels, wrong. I dunno. There is so much we all miss from pre-rona-chan, and so much that doesn’t happen that makes this just feel like one long long unending year of sadness, coldness, raininess, unbearable heat and repeat. I’m tired. Time is going so fast, but so.dang.slow.

I lost my favorite school (AGAIN GDI!!!) and gained the school I taught a semester at in 2019....I had my first day there on Wednesday. Schools actually started back on September 1st so there was some drama as the BoE didn’t communicate fast enough about our school changes. We legit got told on the 27th of August (on a Friday) our schools were changing effective September 1st, but somehow some of our schools found out on the Monday 30th August. In July we were told we would be changing schools at the end of September, so.a lot of ALTs and schools were left short changed, not having opportunities to say goodbye to co-workers or students/having their planning for the semester more or less thrown out the window too. I love my job. I really dislike the way the BoE treats us, the Japanese assistant language teachers and our schools.

The new school I have is used to having an ALT there twice a week, who plans all the lessons and executes them. I’m at three elementary schools. I'm only at each once a week, I want to plan, but being that I miss an entire lesson in between visits, it's going to be difficult to do so. Not impossible, but being that I'm already doing it for two other schools, who are at two different places in the textbook ah…….. From what I have talked to my new supervisor about though, it sounds like the teachers have taken on more of the lesson planning and I'll be able to contribute ideas when I'm there. I just want to and wish I could do more without being confused all the time. (This is all usually done in my second language too, not in English so extra levels of confusion and miscommunication abound).

 I feel like this at my JHS too a lot of the time. I want to contribute more, but even with constant communication with my main in school supervisor (who is a badass and pretty much on the same page about everything with me) I still feel about as useful as tits on a bull. Especially now that classes have been cancelled and or shortened, there's less time to do stuff. Any game or activity I plan is usually cut in favor of making up time in the textbook. When I'm in class, I'm back to being a tape recorder, the fun police and general nuisance.　

Also in the last week...my two of my schools were  shut due to students testing positive for the rona. This is the second time my schools have had a scare in the last 8 months. And by shut, I mean the students were all at home, but the teachers  all had to come into the office. Because why not I guess….. I mean,  the cases increasing is really not unexpected with the amount of people who were travelling over obon and the increase of cases due to the Olympics/Japan being slow on vaccinating/delta being the dominant strain/Japan's leaders doing relatively little except asking shops and restaurants to limit people coming in at one time and closing before 8pm. I know my schools weren't the only one shut either - but still High Schools were having their sports days this week. I kept on seeing groups of kids hanging in the park after, so that was a little bit nerve wracking.

It's just frustrating - we’ve been on half days to “minimize the risk of infection” for kids and teachers, as if only being at school from 8am through to 1pm is going to reduce the risk.  My schools have only just started testing out Microsoft teams and Zoom lesson equipment. Thankfully our school’s run in this time was contained real quick, the family was super good about informing us when they got their results back, and the fact they needed to be tested. The homeroom teacher and the students from the same class were the only ones tested, and they all came back clear, which was nice. But the information came back so SLOW. 

I’m a little irritated because I found out on Wednesday night what was going on, and even if I am vaccinated, I am super worried that I will end up being the covid monkey due to being at different schools three days out of five. I think other than being worried that I will catch it myself and get real sick, my biggest fear is that I will be protected from bad symptoms from the vaccine, but still be able to pass it onto some of my more vulnerable friends and students. The whole thing is a mess.  

Other than Covid and BoE drama, life is good. I’ve had a couple of other big changes - both fantastic and not so great, but yeah.  I have my health (and health insurance!) for now. I have a job, for now. I have a sense of existential dread for the next 12 months, but we’ll see where we end up. Life post JET is going to be way less cushy and I am TERRIFIED. I mean, I have a BA in Eng/Ling and no idea what to do with it…..because I am NOT suited for academia.

TLDR: Love my job. Don’t like the system. What is life? Future scary. 

#life on JET #blog post #life in Japan #jet programme #jet program

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Painted Windows 6

Warnings: violence, trauma, allusions to abuse and noncon, isolation, torture, further tags to be added.

This is dark!Bucky and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You struggle to make sense of your captivity.

Note: Alright so we’re seeing things amp up and I hope you all enjoy it. I have up to part 8 planned out and then brainstorming the rest lol. I honestly don’t know what this series is. I always appreciate you and thanks for all your patience. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Day fourteen. Two weeks. Two whole weeks of the interminable routine. Wake up; if you slept at all, breakfast, lunch, dinner; sometimes alone, sometimes not. In between, you opened your notebook, or watched television, or walked around in circles until you were dizzy. Other times, you did nothing at all and wondered at the principles of time.

Bucky was no different. Mercurial, albeit amenable since his little victory. Since your acceptance; your surrender, had become obvious. You were quiet, not that you had been eager for conversation before, and listless. You hadn’t had a purpose in years, no hopes, no ambitions, but something about this place felt so final.

That day, the door finally budged after lunch. You watched it fall open and listened to the grunts that announced your visitor. Bucky dragged in a box almost as big as himself. He dropped it in between the bed and table. He turned and closed the door before he knelt beside the large package.

“You wanna help?” He asked as he tore open the box. 

Several metal parts, a small screen, a seat, nuts, bolts, a screwdriver; everything you needed to piece together the stationary bike. You were stunned that he remembered. A passing comment about your inactivity; cramped legs and an impenetrable restlessness. You neared and stood on the other side of the box.

“If you want me to,” You answered.

“Are you busy?” He asked dryly.

“Never,” You dropped to your knees and helped him unwrap the contents.

You took the instructions and sat back on your heels. You search for Part A among the mess. You grabbed it and the other part listed in the first step and slid them over to Bucky. 

“You need one of the flat-topped screws it says.” You read carefully.

He considered you above the thin booklet. “Alright.”

You carried on as such. You read out the steps and helped sort through the pieces and he screwed them together. Almost an hour before you finished. A silver exercise cycle was your prize. You couldn’t help but be excited.

“There,” He stood and gathered up the packaging. “It should keep you busy; fit.”

“Thank you,” You touched the handlebar and walked around it.

“Well, go on,” He neared the door. “I’ll be back for dinner.” He opened the door and glanced back at you. “I can order something. You like Chinese?”

“All the way out here?” You peeked over at the window.

“Yes, all the way out here,” He grumbled. “Might be a bit cold but that never killed anyone.”

“Sure,” You shrugged. “Chinese is fine.”

He left. That was what you hated. The acquiescence. It was so easy to treat his control as courtesy. This wasn’t truly to make you happy, only to appease you. To make your captivity easier for him; not for you. You huffed and climbed up on the bike. You adjusted the resistance and pedalled as you lost yourself in thought.

You went until you were out of breath and achy. You slipped down onto your feet and ambled over to bed as you yawned. It was the most exercise you’d had in… well, you were still trying to figure out that math. 

You sprawled out and clicked on the television. Your latest addiction was a comedy about an office. It made you wonder where you’d be if you hadn’t ended up in the cell. Would you be at a desk wiling away the time staring at a computer? Or maybe you’d be a teacher or librarian. You liked animals; you could’ve been a vet.

You let yourself melt into the pillows and soon your eyes closed under their sudden weight. You fell asleep with the buzz of dialogue in your ears; the words vaguely familiar to your idle brain. Your snores rose too and mingled with the steady drone. You rolled over onto your side as you began to rouse and shadow passed through the slit of your eyelids.

Your eyes fluttered open through the haze of your unexpected nap. You looked at the table; a big white bag pulled taut over several cartons, beside it, a familiar set of pages laid open beneath a metal hand and you followed the arm to its owner. Your heart leaped and you sat up as Bucky pored over your journal. He didn’t seem to notice you as he was so wrapped up in the words. Your words. Private words. Secret thoughts.

You hurried across the bed and stormed over to him. You tried to wrench the book from beneath his hand but his grasp was stronger than yours. He merely looked over at you and ripped the notebook free. He held it away from you as he blocked you with his other arm.

“You can’t--” You slapped his arm. “How could you read that? It’s mine. You…. you…”

“You started writing,” He said plainly as he closed the book in his hand and set it down. “That’s good.”

“Why would you read it?” Your voice was brittle as you pushed away from him. “Why? It’s not for you.”

“Sit. The food’s going to get cold,” He gestured to the other chair. 

You frowned and he cleared his throat. You dragged yourself to the chair and sat heavily. You stared at the notebook. He untied the plastic bag and began to unpack the cartons one at a time. You were livid and speechless. Worse, you were helpless. He would always win. 

He rose and got two plates from the cupboard. He set them out and grabbed a carton. 

“Rice?” He asked. You ignored him and crossed your arms. “Noodles?”

You reached out and slid a plate in front of you. “I can serve myself.” You snarled. “You might think I’m weak but I wouldn’t be alive if that was true.”

He chuckled and spooned out rice onto his own plate. “Sure,” He scoffed as he set it aside and grabbed the box of veggies. 

You scowled and scooped out some noodles and waited for the veggies. You only took a little of the chicken and sat back with arms crossed. The food smelled great but you just couldn’t focus on the faint tickle in your stomach. You were angry. For the first time, you weren’t scared or sad or sickened, you were absolutely enraged.

He lowered himself into the other chair and started to eat. You watched him with a sneer. You recalled he said he knew what you felt because he had been kept once. It sure didn’t seem like it. It seemed like he was an expert at keeping others. His empathy was nothing more than manipulation. You dropped your arms and fiddled with your fork but didn’t use it.

“Why don’t you write about… before?” He swallowed. 

“What?” You spat.

“You write about the cell, about what they did to you,” He shifted in his chair, “But not about what came before. Your home, family… your life?”

You looked away embarrassed. You twirled a load of noodles around your fork and shoved them in your mouth to avoid answering. You chewed as he watched. As you took another bite, he dropped his fork and grabbed the notebook. You froze and watched as he flipped it open.

‘The man who came most often was tall but skinny. Still, he was cruel and too strong for me. I remember the first time he visited. It hurt and every time after, it did as well. It wasn’t just sex though. He would take out this little folding knife and draw lines down my stomach as he used me. Or he would choke me until I passed out. One time, he held my head in the toilet and I thought I would drown.

But I dreamt of that knife. I still do. I thought of how to steal it from him so that I could use it myself. So that I could finish the job he always left half done.’

Bucky closed the book and reached across to place it beside your plate. You were stunned as you gulped down the noodles and stared into his eyes. They were as dark as that night he returned. Savage and resolute. You shivered and looked down at the notebook.

“Do you miss the man with the knife?” He asked.

You shook your head but couldn’t look at him. Your chest knotted and you let your fork fall against the plate. You twined your fingers in your lap and bit your lip.

“But you write about him?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” You whispered.

“Why do you write about those men and not your family?”

“Because…” You croaked and meekly looked up across at him. “Because I can remember those men. I can’t…” Your voice trailed off and you lowered your chin again. “Please, I can’t--”

He was silent. You stewed in the tension as you fought to hold back the tears. You pressed a hand to your stomach as you hunched in the chair. There were scars still; you ignored them as you passed by the mirror before your showers. Your cheeks twitched as you resisted the sob caught in your throat.

You sensed movement and your eyes were drawn across to the other side of the table. You made sure not to move your head as you watched along the edge of your vision. You could see Bucky’s arms as it disappeared below the table. You could tell his hand was moving in his lap, slowly. His breaths rasped and he suddenly seemed to recall himself. His hand came up and gripped the edge of the table.

“You should eat.” He said. 

“I’m not very hungry,” You lied.

He sighed and his fingers tapped on the table. “You know I can tell when you’re lying. I was trained to. It’s part of my job.” He grabbed his fork again and stabbed a piece of broccoli. “Among other things.”

You sat up at the foreboding in his words. You stared at him and he stared back. He chewed and nodded to your plate. 

“Go on.” He jabbed his fork towards your plate. “Eat.”

Bucky didn’t leave after dinner as he usually did. You cleaned up to keep yourself busy and ignored him as you hit play on the television and balled yourself up against the pillows. He lingered at the table but rose as the second episode began. He kicked off his boots and climbed up next to you. He said nothing as he watched the screen. His arm touched yours but he only sat with you.

He slumped down and began to snore several episodes in and you glanced over at him startled. You crawled off the other side of the bed as you kept your eyes on him. He didn’t wake, didn’t move. You left the television on as you tiptoed around the bed. You went to the washroom and closed the door behind you. There was no clasp to lock it.

You went to the tub and pulled the curtain across the bar. You laid down across the porcelain with your arm beneath your head. It was cold like your cell. Your heart slowly petered out and the pounding retreated from your ears. You closed your eyes and you were back behind the concrete walls. Waiting.

But your mind wouldn’t stay behind the bars. It slipped past them and returned to the padded room. To the table where the metal armed man sat, hand in his lap as he bent over your scribbled memories. You bit down on the heel of your hand and tears leaked down your nose and temple.

You wept until you fell asleep. Until the memories turned to nightmares; though they were barely dissimilar. Only your visitor differed. The shadow at the bars; broad shoulders, rifle, shining arm, hair to his shoulders. He kicked in the door but you couldn’t move. Couldn’t shield yourself from the new monster creeping through the dark.

Bucky stood over you as he set aside the rifle. You followed the barrel’s nuzzle with your eyes longingly. Your small cot trembled as he climbed over you. You were naked against his bloody leather jacket. The zippers and buckles cut into your skin as his metal fingers wrapped around your throat. You peered up into his eyes; blue like the ocean and just as endless..

You were woke by the sound of the rings sliding across the bar above. You looked up as Bucky stood by the tub and stared down at you. You shielded your eyes from the bright bulbs above the sink. He knelt and tilted his head as you crossed your arms over your chest and drew your legs up.

“What are you doing in here?” He asked. You shrugged. “Come on.” He grumbled and grabbed your arm. 

He pulled you until you stood. He forced you to step out of the tub and back into the bedroom. The sky outside had begun to lighten. He guided you to the bed and turned you to him. His hands rested on your shoulders and he pushed until you sat on the mattress. He frowned at your reluctance.

“Sleep,” He ordered as he drew away and bent to grab his boots. “I’ll be back at noon.”

You didn’t say anything as he crossed the room. You didn’t move even after he was gone. You just sat there on the edge of the bed. You closed your eyes and saw his again; the depths of terror. You quaked and balled your fists around the blankets. How long could he restrain the monster within? He was no different from your former wardens and this was no different from that frigid cell. It was all just as hopeless.

#Bucky Barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #au #series #captain america #mcu #marvel #Winter Soldier #painted windows

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Wonderland by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Read on AO3: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Or on FF

Tagging:  @kmomof4 @lfh1226-linda @teamhook @itsfabianadocarmo

Chapter 7: Trust

“How do you think you’re doing so far? A few more days and you will have completed your first two weeks.”

“I guess it’s going well. I’m not really sure how else it could go.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Killian. It’s not easy facing truth’s we aren’t ready to see. And you’ve been handling that well.”

Killian wasn’t sure he agreed with the good Doc. The only thing he had faced was admitting out loud that the accident was his fault. Perhaps he was a bit surprised that he had told Emma. He didn’t expect to do that. Honestly, he had followed the girl out to apologize for being so harsh in group, only to end up telling her about the accident. He didn’t know what it was about Emma, but the woman had him a bit off his game.

“So, today let’s talk about what happened after the accident. More specifically the loss of your hand, how did you handle the news?”

He straightened in his chair, rubbing his palm on his knee. “Like anyone who is just told that their entire life had changed.” He sat back in his seat and shrugged his shoulders. “Really badly.”

“When did you find out?”

“I woke up in the hospital sometime after the accident, my brother Liam was there. I could tell something was wrong. He told me about my hand first. I guess I was in shock. I didn’t react at all honestly. It was like being numb. I don’t have any other way of explaining it. I’m a musician and suddenly that’s all gone.”

“You play guitar?”

“Played. I dunno what I’ll do now. Honestly, I haven’t even thought about it. It seems so trivial considering everything else I lost.”

“I wouldn’t say trivial, Killian. It’s your life. Your livelihood.”

“Rob always tells me I have my good looks and acting to fall back on, but honestly I did all that because I could. Music was my passion; it was something I did because I wanted to.”

“And that is something that the accident took away from you.”

Killian shuddered with guilt to even feel anger about the loss of a career. “None of that mattered after he told me about Milah and the baby.”

“And how did you handle that?”

“I lost my mind. Ripped my IV out, Liam had to bring in security to restrain me. When I finally calmed down, he asked if I had been drinking that night. The look on his face showed so much disappointment.  I got angry, kicked him out of my room. Refused to speak to him for days.”

“Why do you think you reacted that way?”

“My whole life I’ve been living in Liam’s shadow. He was always the golden boy. Dad used to tell me that if the Jones brothers were to make anything of their lives, I just needed to watch my brother. He was the best of us.”

“What does Liam do for a living?”

“He’s a hero.”

“In your mind, I’m sure.”

“No like an actual damn hero. While I was making music on a stupid guitar, he was off fighting in a war.”

“Do you feel like your success was not earned because it wasn’t won the same way as Liam’s?”

“It wasn’t honorable like his. I sing stupid lyrics about dumb shit that doesn’t matter to anyone but me.” He stood up and started pacing the back of the room. “The night we got our record deal, his convoy got ambushed. I got the call that night that that his platoon had gone missing, presumed dead or captured. Days went by before we heard anything. A week later he came home a goddamn hero. Walked his whole platoon out of danger, fought off an attack, and won a fucking Gold Star. I got a record contract. A fucking record contract and he saved ten people. There was no living up to that.”

“Your success shouldn’t be compared to your brother’s sacrifices. It is admirable what he did but that doesn’t mean that everything you have earned means anything less.”

He paused, considering his words but knowing that nothing he would ever do could possibly match the honor of his brother.

“Have you thought about inviting him for family day coming up?”

“I’m not certain he would come even if I did.”

Killian continued to pace behind the couch. He spent the rest of his session thinking about his brother and the disappointment he had caused in the past year. The last time he had spoken to him still haunted his dreams.

“Killian you need help.”

“Fuck off, I’m fine.”

“How much coke is up your nose right now?”

“Enough that you are killing my buzz!”

“This isn’t you. The girls, the drugs, I don’t even know you anymore. You and Milah were…”

“Don’t, don’t talk about her. You don’t know anything about her. You don’t get to say her name.”

“Killian.”

“Get out, Liam. I never want to see you again.”

When he emerged from the office, he was surprised to see Ruby waiting around outside the door.

“Hello lass, are you next?”

“No, I just wanted to check on you.”

Killian had been impressed at how nice the girl had been to him since the incident on the beach where he was unable to perform a simple act of intimacy. He smiled at the girl. “No need, love. I’m fine, barely a scratch.” He joked.

He stilled when he saw the blonde he had been avoiding approaching them from the other side of the courtyard.

“Hey.”

“Hey Emma, meeting with Hop?” Ruby asked her roommate.

“Um yeah, guess it’s my turn to get my head shrunk.”

She made eye contact with him and he quickly looked away. He hadn’t spoken to the girl since she banished him from her sight after their last group session. That didn’t mean he hadn’t thought about her since then. He cursed the fact that it had been more than once.

“If you don’t mind Ruby, I am going to take a run.” He excused himself and left the ladies staring as he walked away.

~*~

“You scared him off.” Ruby complained as soon as he ran off.

“What did I do?”

“You’re always so mean to him.”

She rolled her eyes. “Geez Rubes, I get it you’re fucking him but I’m not going to be lectured about being nice to someone that has made my life hell since I got here.”

She flinched and then narrowed her eyes. “You give as good as you get. Hell, I’m surprised the two of you haven’t fucked with the way you go at each other.”

“Not if he was the last man on this island.” She stated louder than she had intended.

“Trying to convince me or yourself?” She pursed her lips and walked away.

“Whatever.” She pushed through the door and into the office.

“Good afternoon, Emma.”

“I guess.” She said sourly.

“So, last group session we spoke a lot about Neal? You’ve implied that your parents liked him.”

“Of course, everyone likes Neal. My parents think he’s the best thing for me.”

“And what do you think?”

“No one cares what I want, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“You’re pregnant?”

“That’s what happens when two lines show up on the fucking test, Neal.”

“How the hell did this happen?”

“It’s called sex, you asshole.”

“And you’re sure it’s mine?”

“What the hell, Neal.”

“Ok, sorry, what are you going to do now?”

“What am I going to do? Like this is all on me?”

“Emma, I’m just saying, we can’t have a damn baby.”

Later that evening as Emma’s legs worked the exercise bike in the lonely gym, she tried not to think about the child she gave away. She had seen his dark head of hair, ten fingers and ten toes, and she knew that if she even held him for ten seconds, she would have never let him go. So instead, she refused to hold him, only telling them his name as they took him from the room.

Henry.

She wondered where he was, what family had accepted him as their own. If he was being loved and taken care of.

She pushed herself faster, sweat pouring off her brow as she cycled harder and faster than she could even maintain. She screamed as loud as she could, pressing her feet against the pedals.

“I think you bested the mechanical beast.”

She jumped at the sound of another voice in the darkened silence of the gym.

“Can you not sneak up on me, for the last time?”

“Sorry, love. It was not my intention to sneak up on anyone. Apparently, you and I had the same idea for blowing off steam tonight. I can leave if you would prefer.”

She blew out a loud puff of air. “No, it’s not my gym, if you want to be here, I’m not going to stop you.”

He climbed onto the bike next to her and she noticed they each seemed to be matching the pace of the other, when she sped up, so did he. It was like a competition that neither would admit to entering.

The sweat was starting to drip down her back, her hair caked to her forehead. She chanced a glance in his direction and saw beads of sweat glistening on his skin. She wished to hell that didn’t make him more attractive than he already was. She silently wondered what it would feel like to run her hands across his wet flesh, immediately squeezing her thighs together as she worked the bike, the heat between her legs intensifying the more she glanced in his direction.

Suddenly his pace slowed beside her, and she breathed a sigh of relief, an unspoken win she would claim.

“You win.” He chuckled, with his hands in the air as he slowed his legs on the bike.

“Wasn’t aware we were in a race.” She tried acting as disinterested as she could.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

She glared in his direction. “Really, what gave you that clue?”

“Are you always this difficult or is it just for my benefit?”

She slowed down her speed and turned to look at him. “What do you want from me? Because I’m just trying to get through this fucking bullshit without losing my mind.”

“May I offer a suggestion?”

“From you?”

“Try something new darling, it’s called trust.”

“I don’t trust anyone but myself.”

“Come with me.” He climbed off his bike and gestured for her to follow him.

“What are you playing at?”

“No games, love.” He stared at her, his blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight coming through the large glass windows.

“Fine.” She groaned and followed him throughout the complex, leaving the lights of the buildings behind as her eyes saw the water come into view.

They walked without speaking for ten minutes, before he stopped and bent down to remove his shoes. “Come on, love, the sand begs to be felt, not trampled on.”

She stood defiantly watching him set his shoes to the side, pulling his socks off and standing before her, barefoot in his sweatpants. She held her breath before bending down and removing her shoes and socks and setting them next to his.

“Now what?” she said dryly.

“Let’s walk.”

She followed him reluctantly, the sand cold and coarse between her toes. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, with each footstep she felt her burden of the last few days become lighter.

“When things get to be too much, I find that the water, she calms me.”

Emma looked over at him, his hair blowing in the breeze, she noticed that his expression was lighter and calmer than she had ever seen him.

“She?”

“Aye, the ocean is my mistress.”

She laughed lightly. “Do you live near the ocean?”

“Aye. Seattle. And you?”

“New York, but I spend more time in the city than I do at the beach.”

“See that wasn’t so hard now was it?” He joked.

“What are you talking about?”

“Getting you to talk is quite the challenge. It’s like you’re afraid. Afraid to talk, to reveal yourself. To trust me.”

“I don’t trust anyone, don’t take it personally.”

“Not even Neal?”

She laughed loudly. “Nice try.”

“Sorry, love. Just trying to figure you out.”

“Why?”

“I like a challenge, I guess. Besides, no one should go through something like this alone.”

She stopped walking. “I am alone. None of us are here for each other. I don’t know you; you don’t know me. I’m not here to make friends.”

He turned to face her. “You’re not alone, Emma.”

Emma groaned. “Oh my God, why do you even care, you hate me anyway.”

“Actually, I quite fancy you from time to time when you’re not yelling at me.”

For a moment she just stared at him, his eyes latched onto hers. And then she started laughing. It began in her stomach and it overwhelmed her until she was practically giddy with choked giggles and tears that formed under her eyelids. She didn’t even know why she was laughing, nothing about what was happening to her was funny, yet here she was, full belly laughs almost taking her off her feet.

When she finally calmed, he was looking at her with a smile across his face. “Wow I haven’t laughed like that in years.” She said softly.

“Long overdue then, I should say.”

He didn’t push for anything else, he simply continued the walk, taking in the views of the ocean until his watch started to beep and they both realized the time.

“Guess we should head back.”

She looked up at him, wondering what else was going on behind those eyes of his. “Um yeah.” They turned back to where they left their shoes. “Thanks.” Her voice was so quiet she wondered if he even heard her. But he simply nodded and bent down to gather his shoes.

She expected him to say something as they went their separate ways to their rooms, but he surprised her with simply a smile and a nod before heading to his room. She didn’t know what to make of Killian Jones. But for a moment they seemed to be at a truce.

“Where have you been?” Ruby was waiting for her in their room, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“Just walking. Therapy was a bit rough today.”

“Oh. Sorry. I’ve had a couple of those days.”

“You didn’t happen to see Killian around tonight, did you?”

“I’m not his keeper.” She said quickly.

“I know, I was just looking for him, couldn’t find him anywhere.”

“Booty call?”

She laughed. “Nah, just worried about him.”

Emma’s brow furrowed. “Oh, why?”

“I don’t know, he doesn’t really talk about himself much, but I could tell that his last few sessions were really getting to him.”

“I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe check the gym next time. I think he goes there once everyone has left.”

“Oh?”

She turned to change her clothes, ignoring the questioning looks from her roommate.

“Get some sleep Rubes.”

Emma pulled the covers under her chin, basking in the darkness of the night. She didn’t know what to think of her evening on the beach. There were times she absolutely hated the man with one hand. Loathed the way he stared at her, knowing he was trying to get under her armor. She didn’t understand Killian Jones. But what gnawed at her even more was the fact that she wanted to understand him.

~*~

Killian fell into bed that evening with thoughts of Emma Swan. It wasn’t until he woke the next morning that he realized he didn’t dream of Milah. There was no nightmare of her in his arms, her life drained from her body. No dream of her hair blowing in the wind on the deck of his ship. A part of him was angry that Emma invaded his thoughts and kept him from seeing Milah’s face in his dreams. The other part was curious to understand what this woman had that was invading so much of his life.

“There you are!” He looked up to see Ruby approaching his table, her tray of food in her hand. “I looked all over for you yesterday.

“Sorry love, I was a bit lost in my head yesterday. Was everything alright?”

“Of course, silly. I just wanted to see you.”

He smiled tentatively at the girl. He liked Ruby. She was very nice to him, had kept their relationship or lack thereof private, and seemed to truly care about his wellbeing.

“Well, here I am. So, tell me, lass. How are you doing?”

She smiled widely. “I’m doing great. Family day is coming, and my Gran is definitely coming.”

“That’s excellent news.”

“What about you? Are you inviting anyone?”

“I don’t have my phone privileges for another day. But I haven’t decided yet if I will be inviting anyone.”

“You really should consider it. It’s another big step in your recovery when you can work through things with those you love.”

“Thanks, I’ll consider it.”

He looked up and caught Emma staring in his direction and he found himself wondering if family day would bring Emma’s boyfriend to the island. He almost wanted to see the man that had destroyed her view of trust and helped push her down the path that led her here.

He already disliked Neal, he’d heard enough in their group session about his part in leading a 14-year-old to drugs and alcohol. What kind of a man could do that to someone they care about?

How could anyone love someone yet assist them in destroying themselves?

“Come on Killian, what’s the big deal. It’s like alcohol but faster.”

“Can’t you get addicted to this stuff?”

“Baby, it’s just for fun. We won’t let it go that far. Do this with me, just this once.”

“Alright love, just this once. Anything for my Milah.”

He pushed the thoughts away, shoving the last of his food into his mouth and excusing himself from the table. He would be forced to face enough truth’s in his sessions with Dr. Hopper, he’d be damned if he were going to drive himself mad at breakfast.

#wonderland fic #wonderland #emma x killian #killian jones #emma swan #emma x hook #captain swan #captain swan au #captain swan fics #captain swan modern au #stacy's fics

[im-bipolar-but-thats-okay]

Fighting Back.

Four years ago, I was at my fittest. I would ride my bicycle about 100 miles a week. I was eating clean and barely drank alcohol. I was living alone with my two dogs and two cats. I was horribly depressed. I would get up at 4 in the morning and go to the gym, then get ready for work. On my days off I would wake up at 6 to ride my bike before it got too hot out and have a quick protein shake for breakfast before I took a nap. Then I would clean my entire 3 bedroom house. This is probably when I was most productive. This is also when I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. 

I had been struggling for awhile. It was causing problems with my boyfriend at the time. He ended up leaving to go back home while we sorted things out. I had no idea what was wrong, but I knew my behavior wasn’t right. I reached out using my company’s Employee Assistance Program. 

If you do not know what EAP is let me explain. It is a program many companies in the US offer to their employees. It goes through a third party company but they offer assistance with a variety of things from counseling to financial advice to even finding adequate daycare. It is separate from health insurance and my company offers it to all their employees even if you do not have benefits through us. For my situation I was able to contact them and explain my bouts of depression and extreme manic fits. They recommended a therapist and offered to cover 6 sessions at no cost to me. If you are struggling I highly recommend looking into if your employer or your spouse’s employer offers an EAP. From my understanding, it covers anyone in the employee’s household. It could be different from company to company but it is still worth a shot to look into.

Anyways, I was extremely functional, but I felt horrible inside. When I was alone, I cried. When I was at work, I was just going through the motions. I felt empty and sometimes it felt like I was dreaming. Depression doesn’t always look like what you expect it to look like. I know I showed up to work everyday looking like a total babe in my pencil skirts and high heels, but let me tell you. I felt like Death inside.

Lots of people, including my therapist, have told me that exercise and healthy food will help my depression. I both agree and disagree. Back then I was cycling because I had to do something. Because if I sat still for too long I couldn’t handle my life. Exercise was keeping me alive but it didn’t cure my depression. It just kept me from doing the worst. 

Now, I am admittedly overweight, but still as gorgeous as ever. I partially blame Latuda, but my lifestyle changed a lot too. I stopped riding my bike and going to the gym. I stopped eating healthy and began drinking a lot of beer. I’m not sure what caused the change, a lot has happened since then. But recently I have been getting back to the gym. I actually really enjoy my gym. I realized that I missed it. And this week I meal prepped healthy lunches and dinners, something I also missed. Sunday, I started a new medication, Vraylar. I have to say I do feel a difference. I do not feel as “hungry.” I don’t feel like I want to eat all the time so that helps a lot.

Doing these healthy things does make me feel better. It makes me feel like I am taking care of myself and taking charge of my life. Before, I was exercising to keep myself from falling deeper into the darkness, but now I feel like I am doing it to fight the darkness and banish it. I think after 4 years of being diagnosed my mindset has changed. I’m trying to not look at myself as a victim to this mental illness, and I’m trying to not let it take me over. I do not want to be a sad pile of shit all the time or this crazy manic demon. I want to be a regular happy human being. 

I encourage everyone to reach out if they are struggling, whether it is with depression or anxiety or anger. There are so many options available to people. You just need to look for it. Even if you are just reaching out to a friend or you can always message me.

And I encourage everyone to do some sort of exercise. It might not cure your illness but maybe it can help you get through the day. And once you get through that day, maybe you will get well enough to start fighting back. Maybe it’ll help you like it is helping me.

#bipolar #bipolar disorder #depression #manic #mania #mental health #mental illness #mental health support #mental disorder #mental instability #employee assistance program #eap #exercise #physical health #cycling #vraylar #antipsychotics #latuda

[things2mustdo]

Last year I gave up my Krav Maga self-defense training when I was in the middle of changing jobs. I never picked it back up.

While I stay quite busy splitting my time between my three main sources of income, last month I began to feel like something was missing. I was getting too comfortable with my daily routine– bored, too.

So I decided to start training in martial arts again, this time signing up for a Muay Thai gym. It’s already reinvigorated my sense of drive across other areas of my life. Here are the top 5 reasons you should start a new hobby today.

1. It breaks up your current routine

As humans we search for a sense of regularity. We often find it in our daily activities.

For example, my days typically consist of working from home in the morning, primarily on my computer, lifting weights, and then training a few clients in the late afternoon and evening. I enjoy this routine, but flying on autopilot has its dangers.

You aren’t as sharp. Everything is too calculated and expected. By training  in Muay Thai every other day I have something new to look forward to. It also has changed my lifting routine, to accommodate for the added exercise and fatigue.

2. It pushes you outside of your comfort zone

When I stepped into the Muay Thai gym for the first time I didn’t know what to expect. It was a lot different than the place I used to train Krav Maga at– more serious, less friendly even.

The seasoned fighters looked at me with a sense of superiority. And they were superior. But rather than backing down, being nervous, and quitting after one day– I took this as a challenge.

I was far from comfortable training that day. I wasn’t able to execute crisp Thai kicks or jump rope like a boss.  But being too comfortable can be a bad thing. You’ll cease to explore new opportunities and your growth with falter across the board.

By throwing yourself at something new, that you’re inexperienced at, you’ll be pushed outside of your comfort zone. This is a good thing. You must stay accustomed to living at the edge of your comfort zone to ensure steady growth and progress.

3. You’ll learn new skills

This point is obvious. By taking Muay Thai, I’ll learn a host of new fighting skills.

4. It gives you a new area to set goals for

The habit of setting and achieving goals is the most important habit a man can build. By entering into a new hobby, you now have a whole new area of your life that where you can practice setting and accomplishing goals.

For my Muay Thai experience I’ll start small. My first goal is to be able to execute a Thai kick with my left and have it feel as natural as with my right. I’ll work my way up to bigger goals as I improve.

This is the beauty of starting at something from scratch. At first you’ll set one small goal after another. This cycle will build momentum, and before you know it, you’ll no longer be a novice. More importantly, this momentum will carry over to other areas of your life and give you the confidence to crush more and bigger goals.

5. You’ll meet new people

Another obvious point. When you try something new, you’re bound to meet new people. Whether these turn out to be man friends or cute girls depends on the hobby you choose, but either way meeting new people is always a positive thing.

Potential Hobbies

I’ll leave you with a short list of potential hobbies for you to try today:

1. Martial arts/self-defense: Muay Thai, Brazilian Ju-Jitsu, Krav Maga 2. Cooking 3. Salsa Dancing 4. Lifting weights (you should already be doing this) 5. Yoga 6. Writing 7. Mountain Biking

Check out my new #1 Amazon Bestseller, The Book of Alpha. It’s full of direct, actionable advice for the man who wants to better himself.

Read Next: 5 Reasons To Learn Krav Maga

Krav Maga is a self-defense system created based upon the street fighting skills of Hungarian-Israeli martial artist Imi Lichtenfeld. He used it to defend the Jewish quarter where he lived against fascist groups in the 1930s. Later, in the 40s he moved to Israel and began to offer combat training lessons to what later became the IDF (Israeli Defense Forces). The IDF has used, and continued to develop the system to this day.

The basic principle of Krav Maga is inflicting maximum damage to the opponent(s) in order to end the fight as quickly as possible. Brutal counter-attacks using your most effective tool (knees, elbows, weapons, etc.) to target your opponent’s weakest area (neck, throat, eyes, knees, ribs, solar plexus, groin, etc.) are the focus. For this reason, it is not a competitive martial arts, like Brazilian Ju-Jitsu or Muay Thai, because people would die.

When I heard that Jason Bourne uses Krav Maga (which I later found out was, in fact, not true) and that it teach gun defenses (i.e. the most alpha technique ever), I immediately signed up. I just finished 6 months of training. It is indeed awesome. Here are the top 5 reasons you should sign up for classes today:

1. You will become a badass.

Nothing boosts confidence and testosterone levels like knowing you are legitimately prepared for whatever. Very few people have any formal self-defense or fight training. As a result, in tense situations where most people lose it, you will keep your cool. If something ever does go down, you’re ready.

2. It is practical and intuitive.

Most martial arts are strongly based in ritual, and as a result often incorporate different forms or strange techniques. Krav is different. Brutal efficiency is the only concern. For this reason, many of the strikes and defenses utilize the same basic motion (e.g. the straight punch and many of the defenses against punches and knives). Moreover, all of the techniques are built upon the body’s natural instincts (e.g. bringing your hands to your neck during a choke defense).

3. It is great exercise.

Between the drills themselves and the conditioning, you are guaranteed a hell of a workout. Three minutes of throwing punches or knee strikes is exhausting. So is three minutes of burpees. Side note: The level 1 Krav test was the single most intense physical event of my life. Seriously. Three hours straight of punches, kicks, choke defenses, and groundwork is no joke. I consider myself to be is great shape and I almost vomited on multiple occasions.

4. It relieves stress.

Sure, so do most workouts, but pounding a kicking shield, or throwing your partner to the floor is a whole different ball game.

5. It is the perfect hobby.

I came to my first class with no idea how to throw a proper punch. After a couple weeks I thought I was Jason Bourne. After a couple months I realized that I wasn’t. After 6 months I look back and I am amazed at the progress I made. Experiencing this progress is extremely satisfying.

Clearly taking up Krav Maga has many benefits. One word of caution – make sure you train somewhere with certified, experienced instructors. I have seen locations that turn it into a strictly cardio exercise experience, with little focus on technique – not good. So go take advantage of that free first class, now.

Check out my new #1 Amazon Bestseller, The Book of Alpha. It’s full of direct, actionable advice for the man who wants to better himself.

Read More: The Only 2 Things A Man Can Depend On

I was born alone and I will die alone. I’ve got to do what’s right for me and not live my life the way anybody else wants it.

– Curtis Jackson

If life were a board game, you’d be the game piece.

In reality, life isn’t much different from a game. There isn’t a defined end goal, however. You get to choose it. It could be power and respect. It could simply be happiness. Or it could be more specific: money or women, for example. Whatever it is, you choose.

In a board game there are strict limitations. In life, we’re encouraged to follow laws and social norms, but for the most part we’re free to do as we choose. There are infinite paths that will take you to any goal imaginable.

Along the way you’ll deal with many people. Some will help you, others won’t. You can grow to depend on the ones that help you, but that always incurs a risk. A family member can die. A close friend can betray you. Your girl can leave you. How will you react when one of these things happens?

Playing with others is a necessary part of the game. But never depend on them. Doing so will ultimately lead to failure and disappointment.

Accept that the only two things you can ever count on are your body and your mind– your game piece. You must tend to these things like a gardener tends to his plants. Focus on improving them and facilitating their health and growth and you’ll always put yourself in the best position to win.

If some tragedy befalls a dependent man, he may sink into depression. He might feel like he’s lost all hope of accomplishing his mission in life. He might give up.

A truly independant man, however, will not. He’s prepared, on some level, for each of these tragedies. He doesn’t have a specific game plan for when his best friend betrays him, per se. But he’s put himself in a good position, both physically and mentally, that he can weather the storm. Not only can he weather the storm, but he can keep his cool and make the fine adjustments needed to get the ship back on course.

Below I’ll offer the basic tasks one must do to protect his game piece, and see it thrive.

1. Your Body

If you take care of your body, it will be strong and healthy. It will also help foster a potent mind. Yes, there’s always the rare risk of contracting some form of cancer or another deadly disease, but if you follow the steps below, you all but rule these things out.

1. Eat good food

I won’t go into specifics, because everyone’s diet will, and should, be different.

But if you focus your diet around meat, fruits, and vegetables your body will flourish. Meat provides the protein and amino acids your body needs to grow. The fruits and vegetables provide the fiber and vitamins you need to function over the long run. A man with a solid diet will respond better to stress, and therefore be more self reliant.

2. Lift weights

In short, lifting weights develops a strong nervous, muscular, and skeletal system. These are the three main systems that run your body. An efficient body is like a strong ship– it will weather the storm better and be far more dependable in your journey.

The most brutally simple and effective lifting program is StrongLifts 5×5. It focuses on building strength across the five most basic movements humans are meant to do (squat, deadlift,  bench press, row, and overhead press).

2. Your Mind

You must also foster a capable mind. One that can stand on it’s own two feet. The strongest body won’t accomplish anything without an equally impressive mind.

1. Read books

Reading a book is like absorbing another man’s lifelong wisdom. The more books you read, the more you’ll know and the wiser you’ll be. Blogs are okay, but the average quality of a blog post is decidedly lower than what you find in a book. People simply put more time, effort, and value into books.

The knowledge you acquire in books also contributes to your self reliance. It offers quality wisdom and advice– that can’t be taken away from you.

2. Meditate

Meditation is the act of being comfortable being alone. When you meditate, you remove all of the outside noise. All of the thoughts, gossip, music, news, women, men, business, sex– everything. You are left with only yourself.

Many men can’t stand meditation because they’ve grown dependant on all of this external stimulation. They aren’t comfortable in their own skin. And thus they’ve lost their edge, their self reliance.

[wifeykeyholder]

Sorry folks,

We are sort of doing fine, Sally had a bit of an accident.

It all started a few weeks ago, Sally had ordered a new dress from eBay. Of course it’s relatively an inexpensive dress and to say the sizing is terrible is an understatement, but never the less there was no way Sally would be able to fit in this dress and after a bit of sulking agreed that we need to do some outdoor exercise especially now our gym is closed.

Both myself and sally don’t really enjoy running outdoors but years ago we did used to cycle and even still have Sally’s bike so agreed we would get a new bike for me and start cycling again, we certainly wasn’t alone in this idea as most of the local bike shops had sold out without spending 4 figures so we placed an order on one we could collect in ten days.

Getting back from the bike shop was a little disappointing especially after Sally had spent so much time getting hers road ready again so we agreed to do some old workout dvds I had and trying to do some physical games etc.

That evening I decided to cook, trust me I really can’t cook but for what Sally was having it wasn’t really a problem. I decided to keep it simple and cook a lasagne with veggie mince, I had sally prepare a side salad and once tea was ready got out Sally dog bowl and my plate. Sally looked at the bowl and knew exactly what it meant so went and got some handcuffs whilst I served tea in her favourite way.

With her wrists cuffed behind her I guided her to the floor under the table and sat down to eat my tea, I guided my feet to her mouth so she could kiss away. I like to eat my tea slowly when doing this for a few reasons:

1) I do enjoy having my feet worshipped especially when I know Sally is super uncomfortable lying on her wrists.

2) I like to throw some of on the food and get it between my toes, to get Sally’s tongue going.

3) to let the food cool, after all can’t risk burning Sally.

4) more so Sally but she does like it when I let’s say pre chew some food for her.

After about 40 minutes or so once I had finished we starting getting Sally’s meal ready, this was mainly the last 1/4 of the lasagne and my left overs. Knowing how much she hates cider I also figured why not so drank some and spat it into her bowl. Placing the bowl on the floor I helped Sally down onto her knees and let her eat her meal, this isn’t Sally’s 1st time eating from a bowl and I know she prefers to lie straight on her chest. But with a bit of encouragement from a riding crop you can easily keep her on her shins and can be entertaining watching her at least trying to get her pointed toe stilettos in a comfortable position.

Once she was finished and I checked the bowl was empty I told her to go and stand in the corner whilst I watch my show, it’s at that point I probably did feel sorry for her standing in stilettos, lasagne and cider drying on her face and teen mom on the tv 😂

Once my show had finished I was kind enough to wash her face and unlocked her. The next morning I had her get dressed in leopard leotard with 3inch white stilettos ready for her workout, she didn’t not look impressed by this but oh well. Sally believe it or not actually has better balance than me in heels (in fairness she owns like like 15 pairs and wears a different pair almost every night), but she was certainly cautious in her move whilst working out.

We continued like this and before we knew it was finally time to pick up my bike, and after the saga of making it fit in the car we finally had it home. So Friday both us planned a nice quite cycle nothing too strenuous just mainly canal paths and local woods, we head out with plenty of water, snacks etc intending to stop off somewhere for a break.

After about 3 hours of riding we found a beautiful section just off the tow path and sat down for a break, too say it was nice was understatement after week of being stuck in the house it was pure bliss. As usual with Sally the conversation talked sexual and Sally reminded me of how when we younger we may have done it their and then. I commented saying “aww time have changed, now you have a lock and I have a key. Well my jewellery box does because it’s at home” Sally did offer but there was no was I was messing with sweaty cycling shorts if someone did approach us. But she had been good so I spooned behind her and poored water over her ear to clean off some sweat before starting to nibble and suck on her ear lobe, in between some dirty talk reminding her that maybe we should have bought my strap on.

To say we was both having a great day was an understatement on the way back home we rode through some woods sally used to ride through growing up, in there are series of jumps and of course sally being the overgrown kid she is wanted to have a go. Unsurprisingly it turns she isn’t a kid, over the fifth jump something went wrong, she didn’t fall off but did stop very quickly. It turns out she had somehow landed on her cage, the tube itself actually shattered causing several cuts whilst the ring had snapped and pushed into the bottom of the sack.

There was a fair amount of blood and I was dreading explaining what happened in A&E, sally pulled down her shorts and pulled away what was left of the ring and sat on the ground holding her testicals. But I know my Sally well so sat down next to her and said “you will do anything to get out of chastity” Sally chuckled although clearly in pain. So I asked what she wanted to do, and she wanted some time to let some pain settle down before we headed back.

It was probably about 30 minutes we sat in the woods with Sally’s shorts down holding her privates (honestly, any excuse) before heading home, once home we puts the bikes away and got Sally stripped down as we pulled down her knickers we both saw all the blood in her knickers so I commented saying wow “Sally, you’ve become a real lady. I think we will have to start having you use some pads each month” Sally chuckcled again and said please don’t me on.

In the shower I got down on my knees and cleaned up her injury’s, to be honest I expected to at least give a handjob maybe even bit a bit of a blowjob but not once did I feel even a surge of excitement, it was clear she was in pain. Over the next few days the bruises and colours that appeared was incredible and for the 1st week sally sat and even slept with her legs wide open.

It’s now been three weeks and they started to look like testicles again and Sally’s libido certainly seems to be coming back, much to my surprise she has even ordered a new chastity. Although we maybe releasing her for future rides 🙈🙈🙈

[enzointokyo]

April 2003

I’d allowed myself a 12 month folly Japan.  It would be an adventure where I could work, save a bit of money, do some traveling, meet some interesting people and experience the craziness of Japanese culture.  Then I would return home and get a proper job.  Having just completed my post grad diploma it was about time I started a career but I really just wanted that one more year off adventure before settling down.

I arrived in Japan in January last year so 3 months overdue on my self-promise and I’m still not ready to go home yet.  Not nearly ready to go home.  

But then, I could never, not in a million years, have predicted where I’d be right now, lying in bed next to Nobuko, the beautiful wife of a pro baseballer, in her beautiful house in a Den En Chofu.

I took an instant disliking to Nobuko when I first met her at Stella, the English school where I was working.  I remember seeing her for the first time, waiting in the reception area as I exited a teaching cubical,  She stood out.  She was beautiful, dressed and groomed immaculately.  Perfect hair and makeup.  Wowsers, she’s hot I thought.  But then I quickly realised her face was scarred by a perma-scowl.  I saw the way she talked to the Japanese reception staff.  Demanding, snobby rude.  My Japanese was basically non existent back then but it was good enough to get the gist of her attitude.  She was causing a fuss, demanding a last minute change to the timetable.  What I didn’t realise is that she was demanding  

After she caught a glimpse of me she insisted that I be her teacher for her 1 hour English lesson.  Students were not not able to request specific teachers for their lessons but Nobuko always paid extra for the private 1-on-1 lessons,  for both herself and her son and she was...Nobuko so she got what she wanted.  Her son, Airo, was no nicer than her.  A very good looking kid, maybe 9 years old and already a promising baseballer, Nobuko doted on him.  Plenty of just the right right ingredients to produce a spoilt brat.

During our lessons Nobuko didn’t bother to speak much. She mostly sat there looking bored, expecting me to entertain her for one long hour.  And when she did deign to speak it was mostly in Japanese.  I would initiate lots of conversations and try to keep them going, occasionally managing to say something silly enough to get a smile or small laugh out of her. At least I would get a little bit of practice listening and speaking Japanese during Nobuko’s lessons.

Airo was no more interested in learning English than his mum and taking his lessons was way worse than taking Nobuko’s.  I’d much rather be stuck in a small study room for an hour with a beautiful mum than with her petulant brat of a son.

I quit working at Nova after about six months and Nobuko was definitely one of the students I was glad I wouldn’t have to see again.  But I underestimated her tenacity.  Two months after leaving Nova I got a text message.  “Hello is this Enzo?  I am Nobuko.  I am student from Stella...”  Christ.

We now shower off together.  Japanese and their bathing.  It’s not unusual for me and my students to have a shower before and after sex (and, of course, during). Japanese excel at bathrooms and toilets.  They excel at cleanliness.  This particular bathroom is full of marble; ornate, ostentatious and flashy.  Not exactly my style but undeniably luxurious.  There’s plenty of room for the two of us under the giant shower rose.  I get changed into my designer suit and gather my various designer belongings, all of them gifts from students.  The Issey Miyaki watch, Hugo Boss wallet and Gucci satchel.  I wouldn’t wear this kind of stuff back home in Australia.  It’d look ridiculous to my friends and family.  But it looks appropriate in Japan and I’m glad to be wearing nice clothes, especially in my current occupation. Funny how I now notice most gaijin looking so sloppy and careless with what they wear.  Exactly how I looked not so long ago.

Nobuko, topless, comes to hand me the envelope.  Our arrangement is always settled quickly and discreetly.  As she nears I grab her her and pull her hard up close to my body.  My right hand squeezes the entirety of her left butt cheek and we share a deep kiss for 10 seconds.  I take the envelope and put it in my satchel next to the English teaching books.  Before I leave the house I quickly check myself in the huge full length mirror by the front door, making sure nothing looks amiss and as I exit the house I put on a show of bookmarking one of the English texts.  For a wealthy housewife, having private English lessons at home is a nice status symbol.  But while I’m sure Nobuko is quite happy for the neighbours to speculate about the exact nature of my visits, I still try to make everything look ostensibly legit.

I walk to the nearby train station to pick up my bike.  I always lock it up a little bit away from my students’ homes, just to have that extra degree of separation.  And I don’t tell them where I live.  “Near Futako Tamagawa” I answer vaguely when asked.

It’s an easy 25 minute bike ride from Den En Chofu station to my apartment in Sakura Shin Machi.  Tokyo is a huge city but you can get around surprisingly well by bike, especially if you’re lucky enough to live reasonably close to where you work.  Six months ago, when I got serious about my current gig, I drew up a territory that’s close to my apartment and all accessible by bike.  Lots of riding also helps keep my body ripped.

When I get home I take the envelope out of my Gucci satchel.  It’s a classy envelope with made with thick paper.  There’s some Kanji printed on it which I don’t understand but no doubt it is just the right envelope, chosen with care, for this particular purpose.  Inside is Y500,000 for my 2 hours’ tuition.  Nobuko is a bitch but she always pays me with no fuss.  She’s all business which I appreciate.  The envelope goes into the recycling bin along with the others and the money into a safe in my bedroom.

I grab a beer from the fridge.  This is my winddown habit.  No.  I put it back.  Beers used to be my winddown.  I need to stay focused and disciplined. I start making a fruit smoothie.  6 more months in Japan and I’ll return home with Y10m, enough for a deposit on a house.

I have a very comfortable set up.  In one bedroom I have a bench press and some gym mats.  My own private gym you could say.  I sleep in the tatami bedroom and there’s a decent size living/kitchen/dining area.  I’m very happy with my digs.  A two bedroom apartment in a nice area like Sakura Shin Machi would seem like quite an extravagance.   But the apartment is old and quite far from the train station which helped reduced the rent.  Being far from a train station is not a problem for me when I can cycle most places.  I figured I’d done my penance staying in the shitty Nova apartment for my first 9 months in Japan so I could enjoy some comfort for my final 12 months in the country.

After the fruit smoothie I do a couple of hours of exercise in my gym, then study Japanese for a few hours in the evening. Discipline.

[unapologeticallybella]

I Don’t Look Like J-Lo but Someone is Gonna Love Me Anyway

TW: Body Dysmorphia/ E.D   

   I’m going to go ahead and say, I am so happy I am not a notably attractive person. I’m not saying I’m ugly in the slightest but you know what I’m talking about. Those people where their attractiveness is one of their defining traits. Like you mention their name and almost always someone responds with, “Oh, the pretty one.” Yeah that’s not my story and that probably won’t ever be me. What I’ve noticed about those kinds of people is that almost always their personality suffers in some way shape or form. I’m not saying notably pretty people can’t have a good personality but basically yes, it’s rare. So when you don’t get to lean into your beauty, you tend to lean on other things like humor, kindness, intelligence; Oh, did I mention humor? One of my earliest memories is being around six years old, waking up in the middle of the night in a god damn panic. I ran to my mom hysterically crying. I said, “I don’t wanna be ugly.” I couldn’t really tell you what she said because I genuinely don’t remember. Obviously it didn’t make me feel better because here we are sixteen years later and I still wake up with that panic from time to time, only now I just don’t wake anyone up to hear me cry about it (that sounds a lot darker than I intended for it to.) Anyway, what I’m saying here is that I’ve always struggled with the way I look. 

   We all have that voice in our head that tells us we look like shit, that we shouldn’t post certain pictures, and that everyone else sees what we see; I swear sometimes I’d just rather stay home. I know everyone looks back at their old pictures and thinks “Wow, why was I so insecure, I looked fucking amazing.” It’s a pretty common thing, I know. For some of us that voice inside our head is a bit louder and a lot more persistent, mine was very cruel and eventually it just kind of took me over. I’ve never really talked about what I dealt with because I did it so privately; partly out of guilt because I knew I was harming myself and secondly because it was something for me to control and I didn’t want to lose that. I think I was eleven when someone else commented on my weight for the first time, I was 115 pounds. That’s when it started. I would go through these spells of not eating, restrictive diets, the obsessive calorie counting; no one noticed. This continued on and off for years, I love food so fucking much that it eventually turned into bingeing and then starving myself for the day, then bingeing again. Eventually I gained weight because my hunger would just build up, my cravings would just get stronger and I would lose every time; I’d binge. I would eat so fucking much. I could eat entire pizzas within 15 minutes, boxes of Oreos, bowls of cereal, tubs of ice cream, blocks of cheese; it’s absurd how fast I could eat it all. I was obsessed with diets, skinny detox teas, meal replacements were my favorite, and I loved watching my fitness pal tell me how much I could lose if I maintained the low calorie intake. My junior year, I tried making myself throw up for the first time. It was such an easy way to get rid of the guilt I felt for eating that much food, it helped me maintain the weight for a while. I really wasn’t under the impression that it was a problem because I wouldn’t do it often, only when I lost control and ate enough for me to feel fucking disgusting.

   You could say it might be emotional eating but what I’ve come to learn is that sadness absorbs my ability to feel hunger; it’s kinda great if you have a fucking problem like mine. My first breakup, I couldn’t eat solid foods for a few weeks; I genuinely only ate a cup of yogurt a day and Cheez-its when I felt like passing out. I lost weight immediately. It made me feel so powerful; I loved the feeling of hearing that I looked good. What’s crazy is that the power only lasts so long before that voice inside tells you still look like a troll. I look back at these pictures where I clearly look small and tiny but in that moment I promise you; I didn’t see that in the slightest, I couldn’t. My senior year, I got better for a while. I was the biggest I had ever been, and I felt like everyone could notice; I thought my curves looked weird and the way my body just held fat in the worst places made me want to die sometimes. I did crash diets on and off that year; I was extremely self conscious and hated the way I looked. I moved to New York, and I had started taking Ritalin (prescribed okay kids.)  Three weeks in, I forgot to eat for a little over two days. I genuinely did not feel hunger in my body. I was outside a hotel during fashion week, waiting for Kylie Jenner to show up when I had a full blown paranoid delusion. I called my mom thinking a bomb was going off. “Mom, I’m looking right at this cop and he looks fucking worried, Mom. Get me on a plane I need to come home right now. Something is happening, there are loud noises.” Then she tried to calm me down, she asked when the last time I ate was and when I tried to think back I was like, “Oh shit that bagel I had was literally two full days ago.” Yeah, so I stopped taking Ritalin, I think that would have been a dangerous combo for me.

   I struggle to call it an eating disorder because I never looked sick; it didn’t ruin my life; it didn’t hurt me (I don’t think) but I definitely wasn’t healthy. I think that was my turning point; I was tired of feeling weak all the time; I was tired of obsessing; I was so burnt out from all of it and I decided I wanted to stop it all completely. I eventually gained over sixty pounds over two years, it’s been a fucking nightmare let me tell you. Every day, I struggle with my body and what goes on inside my head. I tell myself awful things; I know that it’s not good, but it doesn’t really go away. I fight so hard to not fall down that path because I don’t want that for me; I don’t know how bad I could get and that scares me. I went out of my way for the past two years to prove to myself that I didn’t have a problem anymore by constantly treating myself with food. It’s like every time I ate a shit ton and I didn’t throw up was a success but then at the same time it wasn’t. Turns out that guilt manifests in different ways and it’ll find its way to you. I’ve gotten to the point where I know the weight gain is noticeable, I feel like people think the awful things I do; So I did the only thing I knew how, laugh it off. Humor baby! Self deprecation is my middle name, sweetie. 

   I know I joke a lot about the way I look and the weight I’ve gained, it’s all light-hearted, but it actually gets pretty dark in this neck of the woods. Body dysmorphia is a mean bitch; She didn’t even allow me to enjoy my skinny days, talk about a shitty time. I used to do this thing where I would wash my hands on the right side of the sink just to avoid being in front of a mirror; “I just don’t wanna ruin my day, ” I’d always say. Anyone who knows me knows I’ve always used the same 2 inch mirror when doing my makeup because “looking at my whole face all at once is overwhelming.” You did not want to be around me when I couldn’t find that mirror, now that was a full-blown panic attack. I’m trying to be kinder to myself, now that doesn’t mean I won’t still make self-deprecating jokes but I’m trying to unlearn that shit. I go through body positive phases where I force myself to look at myself and find things I like. I unfollow Instagram models sometimes but it doesn’t matter; pretty people are everywhere baby. Every day is a god damn battle with myself; I can look at in the mirror and say “Hey you look good today” out loud but that bitch inside my head is screaming “You look like Shrek dumbass.” Having a past where men weren’t all that nice to me; I have an inherent feeling that if I was prettier, a lot of the things that happened to me maybe wouldn’t have (Come to find out even the hottest people get cheated on too, sick world we live in.) You know I’ve spent so many years comparing myself to other women because of something some asshole did to make me feel insecure; I always fall short so I’m done doing that now. Sometimes I worry that even if I lose the weight or if I cosmetically change the things I don’t like, that voice still won’t go away. Then what? What if I’m never happy with myself regardless of the ways I can change my appearance, I mean there’s a pretty good chance that could happen. So I’ve decided that I need to find a way to fall in love with myself the way I am right now. 

   People always preach “love yourself” and all that shit, but it’s so hard when it’s just you alone with your thoughts. Feeling love for yourself is arguably one of the most difficult things you’ll ever learn to do, it takes a kind of strength I’m trying to find. I will say, I do think the way I feel about myself has projected itself onto my relationships and in-turn sabotaged them. I have always required a certain amount of reassurance and affection from my partners which I’m sure can be draining but I forgive myself for that now. I have so much love for others that it just pours out of me uncontrollably and somehow I can’t find a way to feel that love for myself; it’s quite the problem to hauve. I’m learning to protect myself from that voice inside of me; I avoid things that I know will trigger me and cause me to spiral. I’ve been trying to lose the weight I gained these past two years, but for the first time I’m addressing the inner work. I acknowledge my weaknesses, I know my vices, I know myself better than ever now and that makes all the difference. Last December I forced myself to pick a form of exercise and like it, so I picked cycling. The first time I took a class, I actually catapulted out of the bike. I felt like the biggest idiot, but I tricked myself into enjoying the class. I just told myself that I would feel like one of those people who thinks spin is equivalent to a morning cup of coffee and eventually that’s how I genuinely felt.  Now it’s been almost a year since I made that choice and I’m so happy I forced myself out of bed. After the breakup, my mom really wanted me to start yoga to “soothe my anxiety” and it did surprisingly. It’s amazing what you can do for your body by just taking time to just sit there in silence and think about nothing. Sometimes when it’s that quiet, feelings come up and before you know it you’re on the beach on a yoga mat crying in the arms of your yoga instructor. These past six months, I have healed things inside of myself that I genuinely didn’t know where there. It’s been a mixture of therapy, cycling, yoga, listening to my body, forgiving myself, forgiving others and learning to love the parts of me that I don’t (oh and just not eating Chick-fil-a so fucking much.) This picture is me in my favorite pair of jeans, I bought them almost exactly a year ago and when I bought them they were snug and now this is what I’m working with. Is it sad that my favorite pair of jeans don’t fit me anymore? Hell yeah but I can finally say I can feel and see a difference in my body now. 

   So no, I probably won’t ever look like J-Lo and that’s okay. I’m probably always going to struggle with these issues and I will probably have that voice inside of me forever. But someone is gonna look at me and feel so fucking lucky; and it won’t just be because of the way I look. It’s going to be because of the way I make them laugh and the way love just pours out of me uncontrollably. Most importantly, when that love pours, it will be for me too. 

[sk-getsfit-blog]

About Me

Hi everyone and welcome to my weight loss blog! A little background on me and my journey.

My weight issues started when I started middle school. Growing up, my parents both had a negative relationship with food, and this rubbed off on me. My hormones went crazy in puberty (more on this later), and weight started piling on.

A few weeks before my 16th birthday, I was diagnosed with PCOS, a chronic illness that, among other things, comes with insulin resistance, similar to type 2 diabetes. I was put on medication for my insulin resistance and told to lose weight. Super helpful advise for someone with a disease where weight gain is one of the main symptoms. I weighed in at 253 pounds and started weight watchers, with a little success.

FLASH FORWARD to college a year later, fall 2008. I’d lost a little weight in high school, but was still struggling since I could not cook my own meals and was around my mom and brother, who both had a destructive relationship with food. In college, I started focusing my meals around fruits and veggies. I walked a TON on campus. Michigan State University has the largest campus in the country, and I started walking for several hours a day. Weight started to come off without a ton of effort, and I started to feel much better. My second semester, I didn’t have many classes outside of my dorm, and my weight loss stalled. 

That summer, I went home. No job, no car, no INTERNET (we didn’t get high speed internet in my home town until 2012). I was miserable. I started running and fell in love. Things clicked and I continued to lose weight.

Year two of college, I kept running and started doing Jillian Michaels workouts with my roommate, and continued to lose weight. I also started counting my calories and focused on what I was eating even more.

Year three, I moved into an apartment with some girls who ended up being horrible. I became more obsessed with working out and dieting, and things quickly went from healthy to sick as weight loss became a competition between “friends.” By the end of year three, I looked sickly thin and ran so much I injured myself. An injury that still bothers me because I never took the time off I needed.

Year four started with more of the same, hours of exercise biking 4 miles to and from campus, walking hours a day, working a very active job, and working out daily. I took pride in eating as little as possible.

Then, it all stopped. The weight started piling back on, and any motivation and control I had was gone. By the time I graduated after year 5, I had gone from my lowest weight of 168 back up to 225.

In the years following college, I was depressed, lonely, and hated my job. I yoyo dieted and injured my achilles tendons from running too much (my ankle injury didn’t teach me anything, I guess). The good thing about this time was that I started weight lifting on and off. Starting over again at 290.8, I’m around the same size as when I originally started (I’m also using a different scale from when I first started, so there is likely a difference there as well. I don’t think for one second that I put on nearly 40 pounds of muscle). While I don’t love how I look now, I know it was important to go through what I did. I had an eating disorder and was over exercising. I needed the break, as much as I wish I didn’t, to repair my mindset.

My PCOS symptoms got much worse as I gained weight back. Mainly, my insulin resistance. This drives pretty much every other symptom of PCOS, which can include hair loss, hirsutism, depression, anxiety, brain fog, chronic exhaustion, pelvic pain, acne, weight gain, trouble losing weight and SO ON.

In January of 2016, my mother passed away unexpectedly because of complications with her weight. It was a wake up call, but it would take a while for me to get back on track. I went on a Disney vacation by myself for her birthday. Disney World was her favorite place, but she didn’t want to go back until she lost weight. The trip was a reminder to not let my weight hold me back, and that I needed to pursue a better life, not live in the downward spiral I had been wallowing in because I didn’t have the life I envisioned after school. I came home inspired. It would take time, but this vacation kicked off a massive life change.

In December of 2018, I took another solo trip to Disney World. When I came home, I knew I wanted to pull the trigger on something I’d dreamed about since that trip in 2016. I decided I was going to move to Florida. 

I suffer from severe seasonal depression. I love Michigan with all of my heart, but knew I needed a change. So I applied for a handful of jobs during a blizzard, interviewed for two, got a job offer for one and was able to negotiate my start date so I didn’t have to break my lease. As of April 4th, 2019, I was officially moving to Florida.

So now I’ve been here since August 1st. After a whirlwind of moving, starting a new job, and learning an entirely new state, I knew I could start to focus on my next goal: 12 1/2 years after getting diagnosed, 8 years after hitting my lowest weight, it was time to finally tackle my health.

Which brings me to now. After a few false starts, I’m back to making progress. My diet is mostly vegetarian, with a little meat here and there when it sounds particularly good. I eat a little higher fat, lower carb, and moderate protein. I avoid wheat, added sugar and most grains as they cause my blood sugar to spike and drop, leaving me nauseous, shaky, and in danger of passing out if I don’t eat sugar right away...starting the cycle all over again.

My goal is to lose 100 pounds in a year. I’m incorporating working out back into my life, and attempting to find something I love as much as running.’

So that’s the super long story of me! I’ll add updates to this tag every so often. I reached my goal of losing 8 pounds in October, and want to do the same thing in November.

#aboutme

[anyluckypenne-blog]

How a Couch Potato became a Gym-Goer

If I remember correctly, the only regular physical activity that I have experienced so far is playing badminton for a month. I don’t have any sports and I don’t really go to the gym except for those few times I got invited to join.

I’m the type who would rather spend my leisure time at home watching, sleeping and going to the mall. I guess the thought of exercising and sweating doesn’t appeal to me. Why would you wanna tire yourself when you can enjoy a good K-drama at the comfort of your bed? ☺️

Unfortunately, this habit comes with a price. Aside from gaining weight, I have noticed how simple activities like taking the stairs and going for a walk to get coffee can leave me feeling tired and breathless. I also have problems staying up during those rare times that I could not afford to get at least 6 hours of sleep. 😩

… But something exciting happened at the beginning of this month. I was introduced to spin class through a youtube video. I thought it looked fun having a group of people cycling to an energetic rhythm. It looks fun and easy* so I decided to try it out. I initially wanted to go to Saddle and Row – it’s an indoor cycling facility which is a walking distance from the place where I work and they specialize with rowing and indoor cycling. The facility looks great but I thought the rates were a little bit high considering there is no other activity I can do except for the spin class so I checked out Fitness First Platinum in SM Aura. It’s a premium membership gym located inside a premier mall which is a little bit further but still a walking distance from my workplace. They offer daily Spin Class (which they call RPM class) morning and evening and other various classes like yoga, dance, Spartan etc. It’s a huge facility with lounge, fitness equipment, swimming pool, cycling studio and a Spartan SGX zone. All of these (including the free coffee and tea) are available to any member. It’s almost the same rate that other indoor cycling facilities offer but with a wider range of amenities and offers variety of exciting classes. I made the brave decision and enrolled myself for 1 year membership. (Sometimes the best motivation to exercise is money. You wouldn’t want that monthly cost go to waste lol.) 😁

I was excited on my first day of RPM class. I thought, this should be easy. What can go wrong? You just have to sit on the bike and pedal for an hour. And Boy was I wrong!!! Because I’m not used to a lot of physical activity, I seriously almost fainted on my first day in the class and I had to suffer muscle pains all over my body for 3 days. Don’t be deceived, this activity is not for the faint-hearted. Although my 1st day didn’t really turn out as easy as I imagined, I could not discount how fun the class is. I decided to go back after 3 days for my 2nd class and as days go by, I get better and addicted to it.

So how did a couch-potato like me turned into a spin class addict? Here’s why:

1.    If you are a beginner in regular physical activities like going to the gym, it can get really embarrassing trying out different fitness equipment and figuring out how to make it work then getting conscious if you are doing it right or not. Indoor cycling is very easy to learn and does not involve embarrassing positions if you are conscious about that. Just learn how to adjust your bike and resistance (which your instructor will teach you on your 1st day in the class including do’s and don’ts), hop on it and pedal to the rhythm.

2.    You can adjust pace and resistance based on your limits. Although the instructor will ask you to make pace and resistance adjustment to get most out of the activity, you can personalize based on what you can handle. As you go along, you will hunger for more challenge and be able to adapt to your instructor’s pace and resistance suggestion.

3.    Feeling your sweat coming out of your body and see it dripping on the floor is oddly satisfying. RPM Class is one of the best and fastest way to sweat off. I feel like every drop of sweat is a drop of calorie coming out of my body. And trust me, the sweat I get from this 1-hour class can fill 1.5 Liter of Coca-Cola bottle. 😅

4.    It’s very motivating. My favorite RPM trainer, Chiz, is really fun. She makes you want to surpass the difficult moments and challenge yourself more. It also creates a healthy competition seeing your classmates go through the same experience with you makes you want to push yourself so you can adapt to the pace. 💪

5.    The feeling of accomplishment and fulfillment after completing the class and knowing you are getting better and better is a great feeling that gives you an amazing day ahead. It will make you look forward to the next class and push yourself even more. I love how our RPM class always ends-off with a round of applause to congratulate yourself and your classmates for doing a great job. 👏

The more I get better, the more I get excited for the next class. It feels great to accomplish something that is physically challenging. The more I do it, the less painful it gets and the more obvious the benefits are- from weight loss, increased stamina, better sleep to a great mood. Do you know that Indoor Cycling releases endorphins which are happy mood-inducing neurotransmitters? No wonder I always feel happy and motivated after a spin class. It’s a perfect start to a long work-day. 🤗

#spinclass #indoorcycling #fitnessfirst #rpm