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alwaysmychoices · 3 years

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The Memorial

Synopsis: On the day of Danny and Bobby’s funeral, Charlie slowly (and unwillingly) begins to feel the impact of her trauma, and Ethan tries to protect her from her own pain.

Chapter 20 of the “with and without” series

Previous Series: “a weekend with dr. ramsey”

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)

Words: 5.8k

Rating: T (language)

tw: disassociation, trauma, emotional distress negative self-talk

disclaimer: I used my experiences as inspiration for Charlie’s emotional state. I am not a trained mental health professional and apologize if I misrepresent anything in this chapter.

That morning, Ethan had no choice but to discharge Charlie from the hospital.

There was no reason to keep her, even after an unusually thorough final exam. Her vitals were normal, and she hadn’t exhibited any concerning side effects from her treatment in days.

Charlotte Greene had survived. She was in the clear now.

For the first few days, Ethan didn’t let himself dream of such a thing. He didn’t want to be disappointed if she took a turn, and he didn’t want to blind himself in his diagnosis and treatment of her. It was only in the last 48 hours that her discharge had become a real and impending event. Truthfully, he could have released her yesterday. The only reason he didn’t was that she experienced a few headaches he wanted to keep an eye on.

But it wasn’t the headaches, not really.

Ethan kept her in the hospital because, deep down, he doubted she was ready to leave.

Charlie seemed fine – sometimes, on a good day, even normal. But there was a haunting in her gaze, a lingering ghost in every movement. Something unresolved and untouched hid in every interaction.

The truth was that they neglected her psychological healing, placing all of their emphasis on her physical improvement. Each of her loved ones denied this to themselves, of course. They showered her with support and affection, and when she had those moments where she seemed lost in something, they stayed with her until she found her way back.

But they hadn’t touched the root of it.

They hadn’t had the courage, nor the stamina.

They didn’t know if they avoided it for themselves or for her. The free days – the one where she wasn’t thinking about her tragedy – were the best. She was a model victim, full of energy and strength. She made jokes from the confines of her hospital bed and offered warm smiles to comfort her loved ones.

Her parents left Boston confident that their daughter would make it through. Even when her father harbored doubts, he looked to Ethan to protect her.

But Ethan knew.

Somewhere, deep down, he knew.

He observed as if surveying her for cracks in the façade.

Even now, as Charlie collected her things from the hospital room in preparation to leave, he studied her. She seemed happy. She felt happy, but Ethan wasn’t sure if she was.

“You’re pouting,” Charlie commented playfully as she picked up her jeans and started to shimmy into them. Sienna had been kind enough to bring her a fresh set of clothes from the apartment so that Charlie didn’t have to leave in the scrubs she wore when disaster struck. Sienna had been more than happy to do it. It gave her a sense of power, that she could do something for Charlie after feeling powerless during her suffering.

“I don’t pout,” Ethan murmured, taking a seat in the free chair. He was, of course, still pouting.

“Well, I’m happy,” Charlie commented as she continued dressing, “I’m finally free, and I’m counting down the hours until I can finally take a shower in my own shower. I never thought I would miss water pressure this much.”

Charlie had a whole list like this – full of tiny luxuries and familiar habits that she missed. Some of them she already had plans to satisfy, like the shower and her coffee maker. Some were more abstract, like dinners with her friends and hearing Sienna hum during their morning routine. There was one she wouldn’t take a “no” on, which was that she intended to spend the night in Ethan’s bed no matter what happened today.

Right now, the world was full of possibilities, and after so long, she could finally reach for them again.

Ethan felt guilty for what he would say next, but he was also confident it had to be said.

“Will you be attending the memorial today?”

He watched the crack in her sunny day take shape and splinter her soft smile.

Charlie froze, and a cold, cold realization washed over her. It froze everything it touched until it reached her bones. Nothing was safe from its icy grasp.

It was a warm room, Charlie knew it was. And so, she pretended she wasn’t cold, even if her teeth felt like chattering.

“Is that today?”

Charlie knew it was today, but she asked just to be sure.

“Yes, at 3:30 pm.”

Charlie nodded, instinctively rubbing her arm as she tried to channel the warmth and happiness she felt only moments ago. It was coming back – so very, very slowly.

“You don’t have to go, you know,” Ethan ventured carefully.

As he expected, Charlie’s eyes shot to him with an expression that could only be described as surprise and disgust. She had to go. Those men died for her!

They…

They died for her.

Charlie felt knocked back, and afraid Ethan would see it, she shook her head and turned her gaze to her jeans as she buttoned the top.

“I have to go, Ethan.”

“No, you don’t.”

They’d had this conversation last night, and even if Ethan knew he would lose, it felt imperative to try.

“Ethan.”

“Rafael Aveiro isn’t going.”

“Because he wasn’t medically cleared to go. That’s not the same.”

“Everyone would understand, Charlie.”

“I wouldn’t understand, Ethan,” Charlie insisted, “I have to go, for me.”

Ethan knew this was a terrible idea. He wasn’t sure why or specifically what would happen, but he knew Charlotte Greene should never step foot inside that memorial.

But there wasn’t much he could do. He knew Charlie very well, and if she intended to go, there was nothing he could do to stop her. Even if he demanded she avoid it and threw up barriers, she would overcome each obstacle with a vengeance. She was a stubborn woman with conviction, a damning combination.

All he could really do was make sure she didn’t do it alone.

“Alright,” Ethan conceded, earning a look of shock from his girlfriend, “Go home. Get some rest. I’ll come by to pick you up.”

Charlie squirmed, surprised by how easily he’d given up the fight. It gave her a moment of pause, and at that moment, she wondered if she was making the right decision. But then the thought faded, and her certainty returned.

She owed it to Bobby and Danny…

“Do you want a ride home?” Ethan offered, still a bit nervous about letting her out of his sight today, “I have time to take you, if you want.”

He’s scared, she realized quietly.

It was startling to see, though the sight was not unfamiliar.

Seeing fear now felt wrong. This was their happy ending, wasn’t it?

Charlie crossed the room to reach her boyfriend, who watched her in silence. When she studied him, she noted the exhaustion and the concern etched into his handsome face. Between his eyebrows, a firm wrinkle of unease sat. She gently smoothed it with her thumb and hoped that was enough to settle it. Ethan recognized her attempt at assurance and comfort, but he didn’t feel like he deserved them.

He was supposed to take care of her, not the other way around.

But really, they needed it equally.

They were two shattered people fumbling to put themselves back together.

“I’ve missed walking,” Charlie politely refused his offer. Ethan wasn’t terribly surprised she did.

“You have my number if you need me,” Ethan reminded her, and something warm settled in her heart, a break from the bone-chilling sadness.

She loved him so, so much.

“I’ll be fine, Ethan,” Charlie said with the upmost confidence.

Ethan raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I will be!” Charlie insisted.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Ethan declined to confirm her assertion. He couldn’t in good conscience assure her when he didn’t believe her.

Charlie wished he would anyway.

She made a show of rolling her eyes like she was amused with his overconcern. Ethan wasn’t impressed with the display.

It didn’t take long for Charlie to finish dressing and collect her things. When she was done, there was nothing left to keep her in this hospital.

They hesitated at the door and watched one another to see who would make the first move to leave.

Instead, Ethan kissed Charlie softly, whispering, “Goodbye, Charlie.”

She smiled into his lips, “I can’t wait to kiss you somewhere outside of this hospital.”

Ethan grinned. He felt a profound sense of relief that she would make it out of this building. His wonderful Charlie could do anything with this independence. She would continue to exist, even out of his line of sight. She was no longer a fixture in this hospital, nor a victim to gawk at during rounds.

She was free.

They were both free.

Ethan wasn’t sure what came over him. It could only be explained as an instinct to run. He was sure they had to. He was convinced that they were up against a tragic, impending disaster and that they needed to leave while they still had time.

“Why don’t we run away?” Ethan asked.

“What?” Charlie laughed, but the severity of his expression made her smile falter.

“I’m serious. Let’s run away, right now.”

“You’re at work,” Charlie cautioned with confusion.

“So? I doubt anyone would begrudge our departure after everything we’ve been through,” Ethan decided, “We’ll just go somewhere – anywhere you want – and come back whenever the hell we want to.”

Ethan wanted Charlie to say yes more than he’d wanted anything. He wanted this more than he wanted her to say yes to his offer at a relationship all those months ago. Really, he didn’t just want it. He needed it. It felt like the only way to quell his growing anxiety and avoid pain and tragedy. It was the only way to protect her.

But Charlie wasn’t the kind to run away.

She was the kind to try, even if it broke her.

It was one of the reasons Ethan loved her, but it was also one of the reasons she scared the hell out of him.

Placing a comforting hand on his cheek, Charlie kissed her nervous boyfriend softly and told him, “I’ll see you in a few hours, okay?”

She never gave an explicit answer to his offer, but her aversion was answer enough to disappoint Ethan.

“Okay,” Ethan conceded weakly, kissing her forehead one last time.

When she walked away, Ethan wondered if he was worrying all for nothing.

She looked strong. She looked healthy. She even looked happy.

But something told him that she wasn’t, and against his best wishes, he trusted it.

Charlie left Edenbrook to a relieved fanfare. Everyone wished her well and showered her in comfort and adoration. A few of the nurses who had stayed with her this week took turns giving her goodbye hugs. When they held her, a quiet thought wondered if they just wished they could hug Danny. A pair of rowdy interns cheered when she walked by, but Zaid silenced them with a glare. Sienna paused her rounds just to give Charlie a big, tight hug.

It was a powerful and cheerful time.

But then she was at the front door of Edenbrook, and Charlie hesitated.

She felt almost contained to Edenbrook, like something would break if she exited.

It was an irrational fear, of course. That’s what she told herself when she finally made that first step on the sidewalk.

They never made it out.

Charlie felt the air get knocked out of her chest at the mere thought.

But that was ridiculous. It was a thought – and an intrusive one at that.

She wouldn’t let it stop her.

What makes you so deserving to get out?

Charlie gritted her teeth and fought the thoughts as she took another step.

They didn’t stop, though. At every block, there was something new – some horrific image in her mind, some intrusive thought, or some terrible memory.

She heard it in the voices of strangers on the street, but every time she looked over at them, they hadn’t really said a thing. They observed her wild, scared expression with a sense of concern and avoidance. More than one stranger took a few steps away when she looked at them.

They weren’t talking to her. Charlie knew that.

Still… little snippets of their conversations twisted into dark, terrible words.

“They deserved life more, you bitch.”

“You only lived because you’re a coward.”

“Would you have even saved them, if you could? Or are you too selfish?”

Even the beep of a cell phone brought her back to the horrible, irregular beep of Raf’s heartbeat monitor that night.

It followed her.

It was everywhere.

The anxiety started in her chest, but it spread through her body like an infection.

Like the infection that should have killed her.

Charlie fought it. She rebelled against the thoughts and battled the improbability of the dreadful words. She went in and out of panic in a series of disorienting flashes.

She didn’t always know where she was.

Once, she looked around the group surrounding her as they walked the crosswalk, and she wondered how she got here. Where had she been? Where was she going?

Then, it came back. She remembered again, and she pretended she never forgot.

Somehow, she made it home.

She was relieved to see her building. Quietly, she recognized that it was a miracle she navigated so well when her grip on reality felt fragile. But she pretended that nothing was wrong. Of course, she got home. She was normal, after all. Those were just bad thoughts and bad moments. It didn’t have to mean anything.

Then she realized she was just staring at her building.

She made no moves to go inside. She didn’t even fish her keys out of her purse.

Something in there was a threat, and she couldn’t go home yet.

She started walking away with no real plan. First, she thought she would just stop at a nearby coffee shop, drink an espresso, and then go back to normal. But she walked past the coffee shop and kept walking. She wasn’t sure where she was going.

A mile later, she finally decided.

Half an hour later, Charlie knocked at Rafael’s front door. Within seconds, Rafael’s grandmother opened the door with overwhelming exuberance. Charlie hardly had a moment to process Juliana at all before she was pulled into a big, tight hug.

The affection, if just for the moment, knocked Charlie out of her fog.

Juliana ushered Charlie inside with offers of drinks and snacks.

“Oh, thank you, but this is all too much,” Charlie insisted.

“Nonsense!” Juliana exclaimed, pushing a plate in Charlie’s direction, “You saved my beautiful boy. Nothing is too much for you!”

“Your beautiful boy saved me,” Charlie asserted with a bit of guilt. She wasn’t a hero. She didn’t deserve all of this.

A gentle creak of a door alerted Charlie to Rafael’s presence, and he sheepishly corrected, “We saved each other.”

When Charlie looked in his direction to greet him, Rafael knew.

Something was wrong.

He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something in her eyes was amiss, even pained.

Charlie finally caved and accepted a dessert. Juliana, however, wasn’t satisfied and began packing her a tin of goodies to take home.

While she was a few feet away, Rafael took a few tentative steps towards his friend.

“How are you?” Charlie asked when he was close enough.

Rafael shrugged, “I can make it up the stairs without wheezing, which is an improvement.”

Charlie nodded slowly, “And Sora?”

“Definitely over,” Rafael confirmed, “But I think it’s for the best. You and Ethan?”

Charlie thought back to their night in quarantine, when Rafael implored her to tell Ethan how she felt. She was happy to have taken his advice.

“I told him I loved him. He told me he loved me, too. Naturally, I cried,” Charlie smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes, “I don’t think he believed me until the next day, though. Something about deathbed confessions not being as meaningful.”

“At least it worked out for one of us,” Rafael smiled playfully.

He was watching Charlie, though. She realized it during a pause in their conversation. She felt studied, and she wondered what he saw.

Whatever he interpreted couldn’t have been good because, after a beat, he asked her to join him on his walk. Just as Ethan had hours before, Rafael regarded Charlie with concern.

Charlie accepted.

They navigated Rafael’s neighborhood largely in silence. The silence invited the fog back, and by the time they reached the park, Charlie felt like she was fighting against wet sand to keep moving. She was almost as exhausted as Rafael as they collapsed into a nearby bench.

Charlie felt like Rafael was the only person in the world who might understand what she couldn’t yet put a name to. But given the opportunity, she was too afraid to ask. If she asked, it would be real, and she wasn’t ready for it to be real.

“I never asked how you were,” Rafael said pointedly.

“Are you asking now?” Charlie asked, looking ahead at the park instead of her friend.

“I am.”

Charlie thought for a moment – maybe too long of a moment, really.

“My reports say I’m perfectly healthy,” Charlie finally answered.

“That’s wasn’t quite what I asked,” Rafael seemed amused like he had expected her to evade him.

Charlie rolled her eyes at his smirk, but it was a show. She just wanted to seem amused, too.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came.

He gave her time, allowing the silence to stretch until she finally had the strength.

“Does it stay like this?”

Rafael raised an eyebrow in silent question, and she let the façade slip just enough for him to know what she meant.

Charlie wanted Rafael to tell her that, while he felt what she feels now, it eased over time. Being home helped him become whole again. The thoughts and the panic would subside if she just waited.

But Rafael told her the truth instead.

“Yes,” he admitted, “I feel it every second. Sometimes, I feel like it’s harder at home. I wake up at home with my family and my life. And they… they don’t.”

His words crushed Charlie, and she sank further into the bench.

“Do you feel like it’s everywhere?” her voice was so soft, so scared that it shook Rafael to his core, “Like… if you’re just walking down the street, do you feel like you hear the bad thoughts? The ones that remind you of what happened.”

Rafael looked terrified.

He was, he realized belatedly.

Not just for himself and his trauma but for her and hers.

“Sometimes,” Rafael confirmed, “I feel it mostly in the pain… When my body aches and fails to do easy things, I’m so angry and then… Then, I remember why and what happened – and that Bobby and Danny only felt the pain in the end.”

Charlie grimaced, and she held onto the bench until her fingers turned white, fighting the wave of pain that followed the mental image. She looked pale and on the verge of collapse when she finally opened her eyes again.

“Don’t go today,” Rafael warned.

“I have to,” Charlie swallowed, “I couldn’t save them… I might as well honor them.”

Rafael didn’t have much of a counterargument, so he didn’t give one. He understood. In a lot of ways, he felt the same about the memorial. He, unlike Charlie, had been saved by his precarious health. He didn’t have to make that choice. He was relieved, even if he felt a twinge of cowardice for not even trying to go.

When Rafael didn’t try to stop her, their conversation fell into a lull.

The silence was nice.

Neither of them expected anything from the other.

They didn’t have to pretend to be okay…

Maybe they should have stayed.

But they didn’t.

Charlie, looking at her watch, realized she was running out of time. When she told Rafael that she had to go, she looked normal again – strong, even. Like she was clothed in armor. Like, maybe, if you squinted, you didn’t have to worry about her.

Rafael wished her well, and she started to leave.

“Wait, Charlie,” Rafael called out before she got too far away.

Charlie stopped, turning to him with an expectant expression.

“Thank you for making it out of that room.”

Her heart stopped, and her eyes watered.

They were supposed to be dead, and her heart burst with how happy she was that he was alive.

“Thank you for making it out, too,” Charlie was sure she had never meant a thank you as strongly as she meant that one.

He smiled softly, and then she left.

This time, when she reached her apartment, she had the courage to step inside.

It was… eerily the same.

Like this apartment was magically immune to all of the pain and trauma.

Something echoed in the halls, something she couldn’t yet touch.

The thoughts were distant though, but… so was everything else.

Charlie tried to put her life back together. She unpacked her things, cleaned her room, and started a pot of coffee. The entire time, she struggled to keep moving. She kept finding little moments of lost time. Alone, they were strange, but together, they were terrifying.

She knew her surroundings, yet something about them felt strange. She knew where she was, what she was doing, and what she was supposed to do next. But the haze…

It surrounded her.

It was everywhere but somehow out of sight.

She never saw it coming, but when she snapped out of it, she realized it had enveloped her.

She was empty, but the thoughts were finally quiet.

She felt nothing, but at least she didn’t feel the torture.

Charlie kept going because Charlie was the kind to always keep going.

When she turned on the shower, she was fighting to stay here, to stay aware. She wanted to stay.

The water was hot, obscenely so. The shock to her system burned more than just her skin. Her mind felt like it was ablaze, and finally, Charlie felt herself again. She didn’t know how much she missed her awareness until it was back. She turned the water hotter to keep feeling it.

Then…

She was back in the hospital – in the burning hot shower after she was released from quarantine. She was alone washing off the sweat and grime of that hospital room. She used shower products that weren’t hers, that didn’t smell or feel like her. She was alive. But who else was?

She was a lone survivor. She was the final girl. She was the lucky one.

Charlie screamed.

No. No, Charlie really screamed.

She was back in her apartment, and she was screaming.

She caught her breath, reaching for slippery tiles to find her balance.

She slid. Or maybe she sat down.

But she was on the shower floor, knees pulled to her chest as she begged for fresh air.

She sat on that shower floor, hoping for a miracle. She put faith in everything.

In the water, that it would wash away her pain.

In the air, that it would allow her to exhale her guilt.

In her body, that it would remember how to stand again.

But gasping through the water, she just felt like she was drowning.

Then…

When it was too much, when it was all too much, it stopped.

Like a warm, protective hug, her brain shielded her.

And then it was over.

What felt like seconds later, there were loud knocks at her front door. They were jarring and set her free from wherever she had been.

Charlie looked around frantically, trying to remember where she was.

The shower was still running, through the water was less hot now.

Everything looked the same, but…

But the sun was lower.

Charlie scrambled for a towel and turned off the shower. She fumbled for her phone on the counter, and her heart sank.

An hour.

She had lost an hour.

The knocking started again, and Charlie didn’t have the time to process what her lost hour meant. Still trying to get her bearings right, Charlie went to the front door and swung it open to find out who the fuck was so insistent about getting inside.

It was… Ethan.

And he was dressed in a suit.

Why was he-?

The memorial.

Ethan watched as her eyes widened in understanding and then panic.

He didn’t know what to think or how to interpret her apparent confusion. She was soaking wet still, as if she had just gotten out of the shower, and her skin was bright red, like it had been burned by the water. She looked…

Confused.

And scared.

Ethan immediately knew that something was wrong.

“Charlie, are you okay?” he broached carefully, taking a step toward her. He wanted to hold her, but she looked fragile…

“Yeah, I just, um… I was just…” Charlie stammered, “What time is it?”

“Three,” Ethan answered.

“What?” Charlie felt a wave of nausea. The memorial was at 3:30.

Ethan surveyed her again, taking in every clue like she was a mystery to be solved.

The wet hair. The confusion. The panic. The inability to explain.

What was it?

How did he help her?

“Charlie, why don’t you know what time it is?” Ethan asked cautiously, placing his hands carefully on either shoulder. She was hot to the touch.

“I, um, I was just in the shower,” Charlie answered. She felt like her mind was sludge, and words were nearly impossible to string together, “I must have zoned out and lost track of time.”

“For how long, Charlotte?”

Charlie dropped her eye contact and shrugged.

He leaned closer, pushing her soaking wet curls out of her face, “Rookie, please. How long?”

Her green eyes were full of fear as she finally admitted, “An hour.”

Ethan’s chest tightened, and he let out a horrified, terrified huff of breath. Instinctively, he pulled her in, tucking her safely in his chest where he knew she was okay.

She told herself she didn’t know why he was doing this. It just a little bit of time – only a little scary. More confusing than anything.

But she fell into his arms like she needed it because she did.

Ethan didn’t care that she got his suit wet.

He only cared that he had her.

“We’re not going today, Charlie,” Ethan decided authoritatively, “We’re not.”

“Ethan!”

“You’re not,” Ethan said more firmly.

“I have to be there!”

“No, no, you don’t,” Ethan pulled away just enough to look at her so she would know how intensely he meant this, “You do not need to go, Charlie. You need to make it through today. I’m not letting you do this to yourself just because you feel some obligation. Charlotte Greene, you owe your survival to no one.”

He knew she didn’t believe him by the way she averted her eyes.

“I have to go,” she insisted forcefully.

“No,” Ethan shook his head, reaching for her hand determinedly, “Come on, let’s get you dressed.”

He started to pull her to her bedroom, but she remained firm.

“Please, Ethan,” she pleaded.

Ethan felt a moment of pause.

The way she looked at him… like she needed this, like she needed him to let her have this.

His heart broke.

His beautiful, wonderful Charlie was in so much pain.

And he caved.

He caved because he wanted to make it go away so, so badly that he was willing to make a thousand mistakes.

He grimaced but consented, “Fine. But we still need to get you dressed.”

Getting dressed, like everything else, was hard.

Charlie struggled against her mental fog, and as a result, she moved slowly. She was frustrated as she tried to push through her shortened routine. Even just putting her hair into a braid felt like a monumental task, and she cursed under her breath.

Why couldn’t she just be okay?!

Ethan stepped in before she could get too irritated. He helped her finish the braid and secured it behind her back. He found her dress hanging on the door and helped her step into it. He hesitated after he finished with the zipper, wondering once more if he should stop her before it was too late.

“I’ll be okay,” Charlie whispered, watching his hesitation in the mirror.

Ethan didn’t believe her.

Instead, he kissed the side of her head and whispered, “I love you, Charlie.”

She smiled – a real one. A tired one, but a real one.

Ethan found her shoes on the bed, and he held her hand for stability as she stepped into her high heels.

Then, she was ready…

And he had to take her.

Ethan didn’t leave her side, not for a single second. Not when they parked at the cemetery and were surrounded by friends and coworkers. Not when people tried to call him over to give their condolences. Not when Charlie’s friends surrounded and showered her in support.

Especially not when Danny and Bobby’s families greeted her and thanked her for all she did to try to save them. Not after, when they stepped away, Charlie collapsed into his side, tears running down her face.

He never left her.

Ethan held her hand the entire time. He didn’t give a shit who saw or what they said.

It was a relief when the service began, and everyone stopped crowding her. They stood in the back, where no one cared when Ethan put his arm around Charlie’s waist to hold her up. It was a lovely service – lighthearted but reverent. There were heartwarming stories and cheerful anecdotes. Bright, shining moments of joy were followed by waves of grief and anger.

When the families stepped up to the podium and began to speak, Charlie absently whispered to Ethan, “I think I’m supposed to speak…”

Ethan thought that was a terrible idea.

But out of respect for her grieving process, he asked, “Do you want to?”

Charlie considered it.

In her pocket, she had a piece of paper where she’d scribbled thoughts last night. It was full of platitudes and grief, even an admission that she couldn’t save them.

She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t say any of it.

She couldn’t even hear it.

“I think I want to go home,” she replied.

Ethan nodded thoughtfully, squeezing her waist reassuringly, “Okay. I’ll tell Naveen, and then we’ll go.”

Charlie nodded weakly and missed his warmth the second he stepped away. A minute later, Ethan returned to guide her back to the parking lot. They slipped away quietly. Only a few people noticed, and they were respectful enough to not say a word.

In the car, Ethan held her hand.

The fog was back and even stronger.

Charlie was silent. At times, she felt like the only thing keeping her connected to reality was Ethan holding her hand.

Ethan took her back to his apartment, where he knew she would be safe and free from well-meaning mourners and friends. He held her in the elevator and regretted letting her go to unlock his front door. Ethan had never been more relieved by Jenner’s love than when he saw Jenner shower his girlfriend with affection, allowing her to crack a small smile.

Ethan left Charlie and Jenner in the living room to change out of his wet jacket.

Alone for the first time since he found Charlie, he drowned in awareness. His Charlie…

He almost cried. He wanted to cry. He wanted to release this. He wanted to go back to the hospital, where he and Charlie slept quietly and smiled from across rooms.

He didn’t want to grieve.

Neither did she.

He had to protect her. He had to save her. And he didn’t know how.

Ethan sat on the corner of his bed, waiting for an epiphany.

Instead, he found Charlie standing in the doorway.

“Are you okay?” Charlie asked quietly.

Ethan shook his head resolutely, “No. Are you?”

Charlie let out a deep, deep breath.

“Not at all.”

Ethan laughed at the honesty. She had been lying to him all day, and hearing the truth was nearly funny when it was so glaringly obvious.

“You should have made me run away with you,” Charlie grumbled, kicking off her shoes as she walked into his room. She fell into his bed like it was the only place she felt safe.

But really, did she even feel safe there?

Ethan placed a comforting hand on her back and drew a soothing pattern with his fingertips, “We still can.”

Charlie sighed, her eyes closing just a little, “Right now, I just want to stay in this bed.”

“You always liked my bed,” Ethan observed, kissing the top of her head. He kicked off his shoes and then fell back into bed beside her, turning his body to face her.

“It’s because you’re usually in it,” Charlie mused.

Her eyes were closed with Ethan decided to wrap his arms around her, tucking her head safely in his chest. She fit in his arms like he was designed to hold her…

When she looked up at him again, there was something raw hidden in the green of her iris.

“I almost lost you,” she said it like it was a revelation, one she hadn’t let herself think of since that night.

“I think it’s more accurate to say I almost lost you,” Ethan suggested.

“I’m serious, Ethan.”

“So am I.”

Charlie hadn’t allowed those kinds of thoughts or memories to permeate her life. She hadn’t wanted to be sad, but…

They happened.

They were real.

They followed her anyway.

“I woke up, and you weren’t there,” Charlie said, more to herself than to Ethan, “I was relieved. I missed you, but… I didn’t…”

Something was stabbing her.

Something inside. Something sharp and terrible and scary and it was here.

“I didn’t want you to watch me die,” she said in one breath, just to get it the fuck out of her.

She needed it out. She needed all of it out. It was trapped. It was torturing her. It was going to kill her.

She couldn’t breathe.

Or maybe she could…

She panted, trying to just fucking decide.

The fog was gone. The haze left.

And she was there, and she felt it. She felt all of it.

Nothing came to save her from the feeling.

She wanted to scream again, but it came out as a mighty, aching cry. She devolved into uncontrollable, body-shaking sobs.

The cracks in her perfect, sunny day splintered and shattered the illusion. There was nothing to hold on to now… It was just rain.

No, she was wrong.

There was one thing to hold on to.

And she held onto him just as tightly as he held on to her.

Ethan wasn’t going to let go, so Charlie let herself fall.

That didn’t go where I thought it was going to go, but wow... this may be the saddest chapter I’ve ever written.

permanent tag list:

if you would like to be added/removed/I forgot you, let me know

@schnitzelbutterfingers @curiousconch @starrystarrytrouble @jessirosebud @lucy-268 @aestheticartsx @eramsey28 @macy-ray85 @octobereighth @queencarb @claredal424 @mercury84choices @drariellevalentine @wonderwithrobin @honeyandsunfl0wers @iemcpbchoices @queenbirbs @stateofgracious @kalogh @paulfwesley @canigetanawwjunk @blossomanarchy @lion-ess24 @hopefulmoonobject @caroldxnvxrs @senseofduties @chasingrobbie @rookieoh @delaytheinevitable @mooons-isabelle @rookie-ramsey

@openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

#ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #open heart 2 #choices #pixelberry #choices stories you play

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ahiddenpath · 3 years

Text

Personal Project/Life update

Chatting beneath the cut about what’s on my mind and my plate.

I follow a bunch of notebook/paper/pen people, and there’s been lots of chatter about the onion skin notebook recently (currently sold out, but the next preorder period should start in June). You can see some Youtube videos of it here. I preordered two in early May, and they are scheduled to arrive Monday.

I tend to prefer... I don’t buy “fancy” notebooks anymore, because I always felt like... I couldn’t “just” write my random nonsense thoughts in them. They had to have some grand project, or purpose- which inevitably meant that they remained blank forever. I started buying high quality notebooks in terms of paper and binding, but simple in terms of presentation, so that I would actually... you know, write in them (for the curious, my favorites are the Leuchtturm1917 A5 notebook, the Midori notebook, the Stalogy notebook, and the Galen leather everyday notebook).

The onion skin notebook feels “fancier” than them, with its handmade translucent paper and “three generations of book binders” origin. I wondered if I was setting myself up for that odd paralysis again.

Independently of that, I’ve been meaning to corral the most meaningful lessons I’ve shared in my hidden’s life posts. You know, stuff I learned in therapy, thoughts on boundaries and paying attention to where I choose to spend my energy, the most helpful books I’ve read and what they taught me. Basically... A record of how I’ve grown, in the hopes that I can better discern where to go from here, and that I’ll read this in 10 years and go, “Wow, I had so much further to go back then, compared to now.”

So I’ll be turning one of my two onion skin notebooks into that project! I want to intentionally summarize what I’ve learned- it was all so hard won, so difficult and terrible and necessary and beautiful. I want to celebrate what I’ve decided, which is.... As long as we are alive, we will suffer. Will I choose the pain of remaining where I am, or the pain of growing beyond it? The latter is more difficult, but when I see my two options so bluntly stated...

The only choice is growth- or rather, I have chosen absolutely. I will grow, I will walk, I will journey, I will live the six of swords, always hoping that the destination is an improvement, always knowing that there is no true destination. I’ve always seen my weakness, but slowly, I’ve come to see suggestions of my power, to want to realize it.

All this time, with these “Hidden’s Life” posts, I’ve seen myself as just being... conversational? It’s only now that I realize that- dude, I’ve been openly exploring my weaknesses and pain and I never- I never thought anything of it? I’m just out here being extremely human and vulnerable in front of anyone who comes to my blog like it’s nothing, throwing myself into the challenge of developing tools to deal with my trauma and learning to thrive with an anxiety disorder and trying to grow.

It generally doesn’t occur to me to be proud of myself, or to celebrate accomplishments. I put my head down and do the work, then move on to the next thing. There are advantages to that, but plenty of disadvantages, too. But one thing I truly love about myself is that... I just... Go around, all like, “This is me! Like it or don’t!” It doesn’t occur to me to put up fronts or worry about how people will perceive me, because... Like me or don’t. We will all attract some people and repulse others. It doesn’t mean the people who dislike us are “bad” or have poor taste, it just means that they have to go find their people, and it isn’t us, and we have our own people too, so it all works out.

I’ve been able to see suggestions of my strength for a while, now. But today, as I write this... I feel strong, I feel like I’ve come so far, but I also know that I’m ready for the next thing. I have to start my next journey, my next push for growth, but I have no clue where to begin!

So I’m going to write how I got here, even if no one but me sees it. I’m going to create this record of pain and weakness and strength and hope and work and walking, walking, walking towards some unknown place that is slightly better than the one I know- but is ultimately just another brief stopping point before I set out again.

Maybe I’ll call it Six of Swords.

I’m reading Tiny Beautiful Things by Cheryl Strayed, and crying and thinking and staring at trees and loving my husband and my cats and my friends, because that’s what happens when you read this book. Please read this book. What else can I say? Please, please read it. But uh, be ready to cry and think and love. And maybe stare at trees.

In reading it, I finally had the a-ha moment for what I’ve been trying to say with Shauna Cross in Four Years for... well, for years (can you imagine, years of writing some silly fanfic towards an elusive point, then everything snaps together when I read a single sentence from a woman who is so much further along her journey than I am? Life is weird and stupid and amazing). Strayed wrote, “The narratives we create in order to justify our actions and choices become in so many ways who we are.” If you want to hear more about that, I hope you’ll check out the FY update that will drop within a few days!

Speaking of my fanfiction writing, I imagine there will be slowdowns as I work on my personal project, but we’ll see. My goal is always to grow and learn through writing, so that’s my priority.

I hope you are all having a lovely weekend!

Love,

Hidden

#hidden's life

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toonstarterz · 5 years

Text

BECAUSE I’M NOT POPULAR, I’LL READ WATAMOTE: CHAPTER #164

Hey, not dropping the ball actually worked!

We’re just a hair’s length away from summer vacation, but unlike last year when Tomoko approached summer with not much consideration, she’s now taking a proactive role in deciding how to spend her last summer in high school. At first glance, Tomoko appears to have become a responsible, young lady. But as we soon will see, that can-do attitude may not be as refined as it looks on the surface.

Chapter 164: Because I’m Not Popular, I’ll Do My Best Starting From Summer Break

There’s that time period during the day when most students have already left but school hasn't quite closed up. It’s pretty creepy, even more so before summer break when you’re expected not to stick around.

Have I mentioned Itou is a cute? ‘Cause she is.

It’s usually her looking after Komiyama, so it’s really sweet to see the dynamic flipped around like this. Despite, well, everything, Komiyama is a good friend.

Assuming that cheering for the baseball teams is optional, it’s endearing to see Itou go through with it. Even though baseball isn’t her thing, she’s likely doing it to support her bestie, which I can 110% get behind.

Ah, right. Dude’s in the manga club. That said, I wonder if their plans are for just being attendees, or if they’ll actually be manning a booth and selling their work. With his skills and, er, preferences, I think Hatsushiba could do the latter.

Don’t be so modest, Tomoko. There’s no slouching either when you’re a three-year veteran of the Going-Home Club.

Studying during summer break? Outrageous!!

It’s intriguing to see just how Tomoko’s study habits have evolved throughout the series. The early days would see her spend summer goofing off on her hobbies, with bare minimum concern for academics. But now, Tomoko is actually considering studying on her own accord. Sure, it’s more-or-less a fallback when she has nothing else planned, but the thought itself is still worth mentioning.

Is that one of those mini-fans that you can carry around in your bag? I love those things.

Study camp, huh? Any other day, Tomoko would be apathetic to the idea, leaning more on the side of brushing it off. But having Katou bring it up makes all the difference, ‘cause let’s be real. Katou could ask her to sign up for a hostess bar at the Red Light District and Tomoko would still seriously consider it.

Miss you, Yuu-chan.

I second that, Komi. Fourteen hours of studying a day is brutal, even if that’s to be expected in what is essentially a boot camp. I’ve always questioned the efficiency of cram schools and the like, mostly because they seem to prepare more for short-term memorization than long-term understanding. But even it actually works in principle...

...I’m not sure Tomoko will be able to handle it.

Perhaps it’s just me, but it feels like Tomoko is overestimating her discipline for studying. She already struggled with Katou’s flashcards and study sessions that a whole training camp feels like it would have a more detrimental effect on Tomoko than a positive one. “Work hard, play hard” was never meant to be that extreme, Tomoko.

That’s...genuinely uplighting. Tomoko has missed out on several of the key “memorable” high school moments, and she usually lets it go with only mild regrets. But here, Tomoko’s actively trying to gain what she once lost. Sure, she’s trying to “game the social system” a little, but what did you expect? She’s a person, not a saint.

This was Yuu’s only line in this entire chapter. My girl deserves more than this.

Will the 2% of Tomoko’s personality that is tsundere ever realize that if you really “didn’t care either way”, then you wouldn’t have asked the question to begin with? Doubt it.

That romaji tho.

It comes to the surprise of absolutely no one that Komiyama has some pretty...vivid fantasies about Tomoki. But what stands out to me is how deep into the relationship her thoughts go. Most people fantasize about their crush first in their sexual attractiveness, but only a few ever dream beyond that. Ironically, you know your crushing has gone off the deep end if you start thinking about them in domestic, SFW ways. Least Komi’s committed, yeah?

Gee, I wonder what’s that “and stuff” Tomoko’s talking about?masturbating

Nothing like a fresh bowl of Grossi-Os and Gross Juice to start the day!

If what Yuri says is true, then that would mean that she and Ucchi have probably walked to school together several times before–more than the couple of times we’ve seen, at least. And even so, it doesn’t look like they haven’t gotten much closer as friends, if at all. Some people just don’t click, I suppose.

Not sure how blind Ucchi is because anybody with a pair of eyes (beady or not) would see that Yuri has friends, even if you only count Mako. Poor girl just can’t accept the truth even when it's right in front of her face.

Ah, Yuri. Why can’t you just drop the “savior” act and just admit you want to spend time with her?

I’m inclined to agree about Yoshida, but who knows? She’s surprised us before. Mako's a safe bet, though. Especially if the former’s going. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Boy, does that take me back. It still blows my mind that all of Ucchi’s problems originated from one night of misunderstandings. The art nerd in me really appreciates the subtle improvement in Niko’s art style. The character models feel “weightier” and more consistent without compromising the stylization.

You don’t see it in the previous panel, but Ucchi was totally blushing at the prospect of reliving her trauma/dream. Perhaps she was also looking to live out that ping pong match she never got.

I’m not sure if there was some kind of wordplay in the original text. Either way, it kind of sucks for Yuu-chan that she got such a “flattering” nickname when she wasn’t involved in that scenario whatsoever. Though it sure is a tad classier than Miss Akari “Dick Sister Jr.’ Iguchi.

It’s kind of (read: absolutely) frightening how Katou’s envy towards Yuu feels a lot more intense than Yuri’s. Perhaps it’s because Yuri’s so transparent that you know how to deal with her. But with Katou, that air of secrecy feels like a nuclear bomb about to go off.

I always wondered where girls picked up that thing where they intertwine their fingers as a sign of affection. It’s precious.

Praise modern technology for convenient storytelling.

Wow, Fuuka’s already made her mark on Tomoko’s “bitch” list. Though exactly why she’s on that list now is kind of odd. I mean, yeah, she asked Tomoko about the whole fondling thing, and she unintentionally presented herself as a pervert for the whole “hair” thing, but Fuuka hasn’t really done anything all that terrible. If anything, Tomoko is probably expressing a rare bit of jealousy towards someone else supposedly perving on Katou besides her.

The most striking part about Fuuka’s inevitably failed plan is that she describes Tomoko’s appearance as “sudden”. It was touched on before, but it further emphasizes that Tomoko’s friendship with Katou was just as unexpectedly quick in-universe as it was for the readers. And in doing so, it brings us one step closer to the real mystery over why Katou is so enamored with Tomoko in the first place.

Ya’ll know Sayaka’s got her homegirl’s back on this one. Let’s see (hopefully) how Akari screws it up.

Chapter 58, mothereffers!

I don’t know whether I’d say Nico Tanigawa has been playing the long game, or if they just found a convenient throwaway to capitalize on. But the acknowledgment itself is very much appreciated. Tomoko may have forgotten, naturally, but us overzealous fans certainly never did!

The chills, man. Chill’s right up the spine.

It’s certainly true that Tomoko��s words can be interpreted in a good or bad way, so it’s pretty telling that Katou’s gut reaction went for the latter. It suggests that Katou may actually have some insecurities that can easily set her off. Then again, a defining part of Katou’s personality is that she takes everything Tomoko says at completely face value, so maybe she’s starting to see Tomoko’s negativity even if it’s not there. Just more of the enigma that is Asuka Katou.

Not a bad save, Tomoko. Countless battles with shame have made her quick on the fly. Unfortunately, while she’s improved at starting a save...

...she still doesn’t know how to end it.

It would’ve been a clean getaway if Tomoko had just ended about half-way in the above panel. But because Tomoko’s anxiety causes her to try and cover all the bases, she ends up rambling suspiciously. The part about Nemo isn’t even that relevant, but in her burst of defensiveness, Tomoko ends up saying things that could just exacerbate the problem even further.

Fucking shit, Katou is damn scary.

The one fortunate thing about Tomoko’s defensive rambles is that once she starts to cool down, her honesty starts coming out more organically. Self-deprecation becomes self-reflection, and brings to the forefront Tomoko’s endearing side.

Only Tomoko could spout such a cliché moe line and sound so pure of heart. Must be the irony.

Aha. Ahaha. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

–that totally didn’t happen.

Tomoko, girl, you’re in the CLEAR! Stop trying to fan flames that have already been put out.

But on that note, it does affirm that while Tomoko is honest with Katou about certain things (perversion, laziness), she isn’t quite ready to be honest on anything that would paint Katou in a bad light. I’d say tha’st about 85% due to fear.

Death Flags raised all around.

I had a feeling that Nemo would take the plunge this time and invite Tomoko out somewhere during the summer. It seems like such an insignificant gesture, but considering that this is the very first time a classmate has asked to hang out with her during the summer, it warms my heart.

Hey now, Tomoko. Don’t get cocky when you’re maximizing your own goof-off time by taking a study camp.

The easy guess is that Nemo wants to go to Comiket. But really, it could be anything that Tomoko would have an interest in. And because it’s implied that Nemo is going for research purposes, it could be anything from a seiyuu panel (the last one went so well) to a hot spring to a hentai game company. Hope they bring Okada along...

Mama senses her daughter’s giving in to peer pressure.

Not gonna lie. This hand gesturing from Rena made me think that she was thinking about doing...something else.

Damn mind-in-the-gutter.

Even though Anna doesn’t appear to be the studious type, it’s pretty cool to see that she can respect people who are. Also, I dig the way she wears her tie (or is that a ribbon?).

Emoji II really has become an honorary delinquent and it fits her perfectly.

I guess no matter how much more grounded Tomoko becomes, she still thinks reading manga is legitimate practice for playing in real-life (though tabletop games may actually allow for some truth).

Sub!Tomoko confirmed.

What a way to end a chapter. For the longest, Katou had always viewed Tomoko through a pair of rose-tinted glasses, always seeing the girl’s faults as endearing “quirks”. But as her soul-piercing gaze seems to indicate, Katou has reached a revelation about Tomoko that she can actually disapprove of. Whether or not it’ll shatter her illusion of Tomoko is still unclear, but how she treats Tomoko from here on out may finally give us a deeper look into Katou’s psyche.

160+ chapters we’ve followed Tomoko, and we’re still learning new things about her. The very extent of Tomoko’s agency has always been a tad murky. She’s good at (poorly) executing short-term ideas, but hardly does she plan out and follow up on her long-term goals. Even her greatest milestone of making friends involved a lot of pushing from outsiders (Ogino, the most obvious case). That said, having to take charge of herself for once is inescapable with college on the horizon. How she goes about it amongst her various mom-friends may end up being Tomoko’s biggest personal challenge yet.

#watamote #watamote review #chapter 164 #no matter how i look at it it's you guys' fault i'm not popular!#tomoko kuroki #kotomi komiyama #hikari itou #hatsushiba #asuka katou #yuu naruse #yuri tamura #emiri uchi #sasaki fuuka #hina nemoto #rena #anna haruna #review

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one-abuse-survivor · 5 years

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hi, i was wondering if you had any advice. i moved out of my terrible situation (yay!) & now my days are lighter & so much easier. i have actually seen an improvement in my behaviour & attitude & even self esteem. but i realised i have been avoiding anything trauma-related out of fear of all those ugly emotions. my nightmares have gotten more frequent & i’ve started having flashbacks (which are not what i thought & definitely not fun). i want to see a therapist but can’t at the moment. (1)

i’m aware i’m still an overflowing fountain of unhealthy coping mechanisms and unresolved trauma but once i start thinking abt those things it’s hard to put it ‘back in the box’ and carry on. i know work has to be put into recovery & that it’s hard & awkward & messy, but i can’t do it alone & i know it’ll just fester if i shove it away and ignore it. i’m quite literally between a rock and a hard place. literally any words at all (even just acknowledgement lmao) will be appreciated, ty 💓😌 (2)

–

Hi, nonnie! First of all, I’m so proud of you for getting out of that situation and for all the improvement you’ve made, and you should be hella proud too 😊

Yeah, recovery is… hard, to say the very least. I’ve been on it for one and a half years now, and there are certain things that I still battle with everyday, things that I must have brought up to my therapist a thousand times, and things I haven’t brought up yet at all because I’m so scared I’ll have to face them if I do. But I can tell you a few things that I’ve learnt!

- Go step by step, one step at a time. When I first brought up a thousand different PTSD symptoms and unhealthy coping mechanisms to my therapist, the first thing she told me is, we can’t possibly fix this all at once, so let’s start with the most pressing issue – you can’t keep skipping meals. Which was a thing I did. So we started there; literally just with me telling myself I can’t keep skipping meals anymore every time I wanted to. This doesn’t mean I haven’t skipped a meal in one and a half years because of my PTSD, but it does mean that the days I do skip meals are now catalogued as bad days. Recovery has bad days, and during those, sometimes I still skip a meal, but now all of these days are separate from every other single day. I’m not a person who skips meals anymore. I’m a person who sometimes has bad days and struggles a bit more to eat.

- And that applies to every other one of your symptoms. They’re not going to magically disappear one by one, but they can stop being a part of you and become just a part of the bad days you have sometimes, separate from the rest of your life.

- How to achieve this?

- I don’t understand/remember every single step I’ve taken in my recovery process, but one thing I can tell you is that it’s okay not to think about it. It’s okay not to want to go back to all those ugly emotions. Right now, if I started making a mental list of instances where my mother abused me, I would have an anxiety attack. So I don’t. I’ve talked about this with my therapist, a while ago when I asked her what she thought of exposure therapy methods, and she told me that we already torture ourselves enough with our memories for her to put us back in that situation. It’s okay not to want to go back to those feelings. It’s okay to keep on living your life, create a routine for yourself, make friends and lead a lifestyle that doesn’t include your past trauma. You’re not avoiding anything by moving on! And if you’re worried that you’re burying things that you should probably face, I’m here to say that, in my experience, this is something that you’ll need a therapist’s help with. So there’s no shame in not knowing how to start to face these tings by yourself! As you said, you can’t do it alone!

- Which brings me to my next point: you need people in your life. When you go through trauma it’s normal to isolate yourself, to lose people along the way and lose opportunities to meet new people and to avoid social interation with the people you do know because of anxiety, fear, feeling different, not having experience… During recovery, it’s important that you slowly expose yourself to these tiny life events. Just, the next time a classmate or co-worker or a friend asks you to go for a coffee, or to watch a movie sometime, and you feel like you’d say yes if it wasn’t for fear/lack of experience/anxiety… say yes. (Don’t say yes out of obligation, though, or to do things that you don’t enjoy with people you dislike! This is about you being more and more comfortable having a normal life, not about you pushing yourself to do things/be around people that make you uncomfortable). So even if you don’t face all these giant things that are turning and turning in your mind… do face the tiny things that you feel are like small walls separating you from the rest of the world. Start with the walls that feel easiest to climb. (THIS is the kind of exposure therapy my therapist advocates for! Slowly daring to face things in life that our first insticts tell us we should avoid).

- Reward yourself when you do well, and be kind to yourself when you don’t do so well. Try to train all the voices that say bad things about you to instead say things like “today I did that chore that I’d been postponing! Yay me! I deserve some chocolate.” “Today I couldn’t do this chore! It’s not because I’m lazy; there is a reason behind my struggle. It means I’m not feeling my best right now. I’m going to rest/distract myself/do an easier chore/shower/do whatever I need to do to take care of myself right now (yes, that includes eating that chocolate too) and I’ll try again tomorrow.”

- Try not to spend too much time alone with your thoughts. Read, go out with friends, watch shows you like… fill your day and your mind with things that don’t leave you with hours ahead for you to dwell on your thoughts. Basically this takes me back to that previous point; create a routine, find things and people you like, try new things from time to time. My therapist said spending too much time alone with my thoughts only serves to trigger myself when I could be using that time to do something fun or something I need to do instead!

- It usually takes me from one to two days to completely recover from a flashback. Luckily they don’t happen so often now, because one can’t keep taking days off when they’re continuous. That being said… when you have a flashback, be kind with yourself. Drink water. Take the day slowly. Write “rest” on your to-do list so that literally one of the things for you to do that day is to just rest. Just lie in bed with your phone for a few hours. Ta-da! A to-do thing completed. Sleep plenty. Also, you know when you’re crying and people ask you if you want to talk, or if you want to go somewhere else, and instinctively you know if the answer is ‘yes’ or ‘no’? This happens to me at least; when I’m in pain, it’s like instinct takes over and I don’t need to wonder what I need–my body just tells me. Similarly, when I have a flashback, both during and after it happens it’s like my body is just asking me for things I need. Cover your face, don’t let anyone touch you, stop every noise around you are some of the common ones. And afterwards, it’s usually more like be home alone, lay in bed in the dark, don’t go out, drink water. My advice is to listen to your body. Yes, even if our trauma tells us to stay home it’s important that we jump the small walls; but having a flashback leaves you very vulnerable, and things that are usually tolerable and even enjoyable can turn into a living nightmare; from sounds and lights to having to sit through three hours of lectures to having to talk to people. So when you have a flashback, for a day, avoiding these things if you feel like it’s the best option is okay.

That’s all I can think of right now! I hope some of this helps you at least a little bit and I hope that you are having a good day today 💗 And please, remember that your comfort and safety always come before my advice; if something I said doesn’t feel right, don’t feel like you have to do it. I’m just one person with one experience, after all! (Also if anyone reading this has their own advice, you’re more than welcome to add it to the post 😊)

Sending you a big big hug and lots of encouragement!

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old-school-butch · 5 years

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Suicide risks and data

I can’t seem to post this in the replies, so I made a separate post in response to @transgun’s discussion on suicide risk for post-op trans people. My apologies for the delay, I’ve not been AWOL because I ‘want trans people to die’ and one lovely anon informed me, but because I’ve been too busy to give these information the attention it deserves.

As a general framework for my perspective, I think suicide is complicated. Teenagers, lesbians, dentists, middle-aged men, frail seniors - all have high rates of suicide, yet are very different people. It takes multiple sources and analysis to really pin down the causes and assess the most effective treatment and prevention strategies.

Additionally, I want to clarify that I believe people are free to do what they want with their own bodies, and that people should not face undue barriers to medical interventions that will ease their distress.

Generally speaking, people are resilient. We adapt to all kind of terrible decisions especially when those decisions are permanent. It’s a well known trick of human nature that helps us get on with our lives. If you know you’re stuck with something, you’re very motivated to feel positively about it, and if you need evidence about this just ask someone if they regret getting a tattoo.

Anyway, I’d imagine that most people would adapt to ineffective or even psychologically harmful surgical choices EXCEPT the group of people who suffer from dysphoria. This is a group that, by definition, haven’t gotten used to the bodies they were born with, much less their potential plastic surgery mistakes. That seems to me to be a high risk proposition, and in the face of trauma, dysmorphia, autism, depression, social conflict and a host of other mental health challenges that accompany most gender clinic patients, I’m concerned that entirely the wrong approach is being employed.

So, my question is whether physical transition successfully reduces suicide risk over the long-term. Significantly, the sources you’ve given me are whether ‘mental health’ is improved with transition. Fundamentally, we are asking different questions. If that’s all you need to know, you can save yourself lots of reading and stop here.

I’m being picky about the question for a reason. Read this comprehensive review of suicide among LGBT population (the article says LGBT but throws in the T rather randomly since all earlier research is LGB only). Despite 4 decades of self-reported data, one of the “knowledge gaps” identified is “Among the most pressing questions for future research is whether LGBT people are over-represented among suicide deaths, and if so, why” If you read the details of the many different studies in this review, you really understand how confusing it is to pin down. There are contradictory and counter-intuitive results. For example, some researchers found that loneliness and social isolation were significant factors - makes sense - except that married gay men still have significantly higher rates of suicide. When you look more closely, the social factors were significant in youths, so maybe there’s a crisis period of coming out? Well no, the elevated risk remained high across all age groups for LGBs. How do we make sense of this?

Maybe it’s the concurrent high rates of substance abuse, mood and anxiety disorders that are often noted (Bostwick et al., 2010; Cochran, Mays, & Sullivan, 2003; Cochran, Mays, Alegria, et al., 2007; Conron, Mimiaga, & Landers, 2010; Hughes, Szalacha, & McNair, 2010; Jorm, Korten, Rodgers, Jacomb, & Christensen, 2002; McCabe, Hughes, Bostwick, West, & Boyd, 2009). That would be a reasonable conclusion until some researchers discovered that women who only have female partners have lower rates of every mental disorder they studied than even in the general population (Bostwick et al., 2010). So when other studies find elevated rates of substance abuse in lesbian and bisexual women, it’s possible that most of that is actually concentrated in the bisexual women, or at least, women who date men (King et al., 2008). The evidence from the Danish registries (Mathy, Cochran, et al., 2009) suggest significantly higher suicide rates among anyone who has a history of a domestic partnerships with men - which maybe says more about men than the people who date them.

Maybe ‘coming out’ age is a factor. There is some evidence that suicide attempts are broadly distributed among ages in LGB populations than the general population (where it’s concentrated in youth). (D'Augelli, Grossman, Hershberger, & O'Connell, 2001). It may be more closely linked to the ages at which lesbian women (Hughes, 2003) and gay men (Paul et al., 2002) recognize and disclose their sexual orientation to others than to chronological age. Conversely, suicide attempts appear to occur more frequently among transgender adolescents and young adults than among older age groups (Xavier et al., 2007). Transgender youth have reported parental rejection to be a particular stressor (Grossman & D'Augelli, 2008). Are we misdirecting our efforts to a medical process rather than focusing on repairing the parental and peer relationships a young trans person faces during the initial ‘coming out’ phase? Additionally, how do we assess the long-term impact of any suicide prevention strategies since some natural reduction in suicide rate may occur with aging?

Back to the question of whether transition reduces suicide rates. There are many questions that need to be answered that I would hope for in a study. I don’t want to pick apart each study, it’s petty to do so since no study can answer every question, but the body of evidence should give a comprehensive and generally congruent set of answers. Answering my question would involve some core data:

1. How high is the suicide rate in the first place? Observed baseline suicide rates need to be compared to post-op observed suicide rates. Strictly speaking, any other data is of lesser value. Self-reported suicide attempts have been consistently reported by LGB populations over 4 decades of research, (DuRant, Krowchuk, & Sinal, 1998; Falkner & Cranston, 1998; Garofalo, Wolf, Kessel, et al., 1998; Garofalo, Wolf, Winssow, et al., 1999; Remafedi, 2002; Russell & Joyner, 2001), yet studies that analysed data of actual suicides, trying to find out their sexual orientation after the fact, found no evidence of disproportionate rates of suicide. (Rich, Fowler, Young, & Blenkush, 1986), (Shaffer, Fisher, Hicks, Parides, & Gould, 1995) and (Renaud, Berlim, Begolli, McGirr, & Turecki, 2010). Similarly, despite consistent self-reports of alarmingly high suicide attempts in trans populations, the Tavistock clinic reports its actual suicide rate of 1% - which is indeed high for the general population, but average for a clinical population seeking mental health treatment.

There’s an significant problem evident here. If you begin in the clinic, all the data that follows is limited to this population. There’s no comparable population found ‘in the wild’ where we can compare outcomes with the general public. A medical process necessitates medical intervention, making this data fundamentally different than studying a LGB population that doesn’t need or want medical intervention.

There’s no shortage of evidence of post-clinical risks for trans people. One clinical study reported a disproportionate number of suicide deaths among Dutch transsexual women and men receiving hormone therapy, compared to the general population (van Kesteren et al., 1997). Another international review of studies that followed over 2,000 persons in 13 countries who had undergone gender reassignment surgery identified 16 possible suicide deaths (Pfäfflin & Junge, 1998). That’s a rate of 800 suicides for every 100,000 post-surgery transsexuals. (by contrast, the suicide rate for the overall U.S. population is 11.5 suicides per 100,000 people). But what would it have been without intervention? It’s from 1998, is it relevant? Do trans people who don’t seek medical help do better or worse?

2. When we assess medical transition’s effectiveness, what are we comparing it to? Are we using a control group or placebo or double-blind studies? Are we comparing it to an alternative therapy? To ‘watchful waiting?’ To decide what’s best, what options are on the table?

3. How long is the follow-up timeline? Again, we need to know the original risk pattern to know if the intervention has been successful. A short-term reduction in risk that is erased in 5 years is a temporary benefit for a permanent procedure.

4. Who is a candidate for transition? This is a key issue with many older studies where the pre-op process was rigid and rigorous and the transsexual population significantly different than the one today. How can we compare whether an effective or ineffective outcome of a ‘sex change’ on a group of transsexual gay men in 1975 is related to decisions made to have hormone-only treatment on a ‘transmasculine’ teenage female in 2018? Is a non-op trans person likely to suffer increased suicide risk by not transitioning? Should transition be recommended or even required for trans patients, whether they request it or not?

5. Who is trans? I mean, if we’re going to study the effectivenes of a procedure on a population, we need to define both the procedure and the population. Looking at long-term data, this is a huge problem. For example, if you read Mathy, 2002b, you’ll notice that transgender respondents had a higher rate of reported suicide attempts than any group except homosexual females.

You can probably guess my suspicion than in 2018, a large portion of those gender non-conforming homosexual females now identify as non-binary, transmasculine etc. Female transsexuals were very rare in the 1970s, none of the early data addresses the risks to this population, who now make up 2/3 of gender clinic patients. (Clements-Nolle, Marx, Guzman, & Katz, 2001) found that 65% of female-to-male respondents identified as ‘gay, lesbian, or bisexual’. It’s hard to tell if that even means same-sex attracted, but I’m going to guess it does. When we say we are treating trans people, or lesbians, or lesbian trans people, who are we actually talking about when we compare data over time?

To address the studies you’ve cited, the first (2014) notes that “A marked reduction in psychopathology occurs during the process of sex reassignment therapy” which is promising but doesn’t meet any of these 3 criteria above. It doesn’t satisfy me, although it’s fine if it satisfies you.

The 2015 study is very promising and has a good timespan. However, it doesn’t have the numbers to tease out which factors affected improved mental health (subjects socially transitioned, had surgery, got counselling, resolved conflicts with their families etc over the course of time), making it difficult to pinpoint physical treatment as a cause of mental health improvement. Also, it’s a self-report study... not suicide data.

The next 4 studies show improvement on a variety of health scales but, again, that may answer your questions but it doesn’t answer mine.

I do want to address the study on regret. Very few detransitioners or desisters would meet the criteria of this study. Making a ‘regret application’ involved taking the step to reverse your legal ID to your original sex. Post surgery, regardless of how you felt about the outcome, few people would be motivated to pursue such an action. It’s interesting but not a good representation of the concept of regret. One of the studies from the ‘70 studies on transition’ you linked to notes “None of the 61 homosexual females or 36 homosexual males consciously regretted surgery, compared to 4 of the 14 heterosexual males: a significant difference.” More than anything, this highlights the need to find specific answers for specific questions.

Lastly, I’m just annoyed with Dhejne at this point. It’s like she’s vagueposting on her own damn research, but that’s not the same as publishing a peer-reviewed study. The phrasing about the later cohort’s suicide risk not being statistically significant could mean a lot of things. It could be a smaller cohort, studied over a shorter time span when the rise in suicide risk increased over time. Who knows? It’s not clear. The main caveat to notice in her original publication is that it was not intended to assess whether transition was effective at treating dysphoria, to which I say... why the hell not? She’s head of a gender clinic - doesn’t she want to know? And yet the conclusion in the paper is that the data “suggest that sex reassignment, although alleviating gender dysphoria, may not suffice as treatment for transsexualism”, which is.. tepid? Unclear? Just, why? But okay, let’s ignore absolutely all of her data, statements and so on until she publishes otherwise, or retracts her current statements, or clarifies her data. It’s not the only or best study on this population, and doesn’t deserve the attention it gets.

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sage-nebula · 6 years

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((DO NOT reblog this post, or I will just delete the post (rendering your reblog meaningless) and block you, thank you.))

So, about a month ago, I was prescribed and started taking Lexapro for my anxiety disorder / chronic severe depression.

I’ve made a few posts on this here or there, particularly because the thing that drove me to seek medical assistance was because I was in a really, really bad place. I’m good at hiding it; I spent two weeks in a constant panic state where my heart was palpitating and I could hardly breathe because of it, and I’m sure that no one at work could tell because I’m really good at keeping a chill facade. But being able to hide what I’m feeling doesn’t change the fact that I am feeling it, and the panic state was pretty much unbearable. My severe depression has made it so that I typically always lowkey want to die, but my suicidal ideation tends to be passive. I think “I want to die” but I have no intention of acting on it. But during the weeks that I was in that panic state---a panic state which didn’t even make sense to me, because consciously I wasn’t worrying about anything, it was just my body having a never-ending panic attack from the time I woke up to the time I went to sleep---started pushing that passive ideation to active. I live close enough to a train that I can hear the trains when they pass by, and I started having very strong daydreams of throwing myself in front of one because getting hit by a train would have to be better than living in a constant state of panic. That, and the sense of hopelessness and despair when I thought that the panic might never end, was what drove me to seek medication even though I’ve always been afraid of antidepressants. (Due in part to a sort of imposter syndrome, where I wondered whether I really did have a chemical imbalance, or if I was somehow just making it up.)

Well, I started taking the Lexapro, and as I mentioned in a few posts, the side-effects were not fun. At all. Actually they were pretty goddamn terrible, and I won’t get into all the gruesome details here, but let’s just say that for the first week and a half, my body seemed pretty intent on rejecting the Lexapro, or at least making me quit taking it. But I didn’t quit taking it. I haven’t missed a single dose. And I can tell you right now that I’ve noticed a difference beyond the brain fog of the first day. (Basically---and I laugh about this now---the first day I took the Lexapro I had a surprise work meeting wherein we learned how to use new admin privileges we’d been given. I didn’t know about this meeting until about two minutes after I had taken the Lexapro for the first time, which I did at work in case it gave me a seizure. So I sat through that meeting completely spaced out, learning absolutely nothing, struggling to set up my account. I know how to do the things now because in all honesty it’s not hard to figure out once you get logged into the admin portal, but jfc. It would be my luck that the day we have those permissions handed over to us is the day I tried taking my anti-anxiety/antidepressant for the first time.)

First of all, it really does work at subduing the panic state. Even when the side effects were kicking my ass up and down, my heart wasn’t palpitating and I wasn’t hyperventilating. Even that very first day, despite my doctor saying the Lexapro wouldn’t take effect for about two weeks, I noticed my heart rate slow and everything calm down. It was incredible. It made me eager to get to the next day so I could take the next dose. (Don’t worry, I’m not overdosing; I’m taking one pill at the same time each day as instructed.) I haven’t missed a dose because I don’t want to miss a dose. When I wake up each day, I can feel my heart doing light palpitations, as if it’s just waiting for me to forget so that the panic state can start again. I haven’t missed a dose because I want to keep that at bay. It’s not perfect; I can still feel those palpitations rise up sometimes, and even just a few minutes ago I was feeling it for whatever godforsaken reason. (I actually think I need a stronger dose and wish my doctor had prescribed me one, but since my anxiety and depression scores are better than they were last time, and since I’m pretty small in size, he said he wants to keep me on the low dose for now and we’ll see how I’m doing next month. I get it, but still.) But it’s far less than it was. I’m not in a constant state of high panic. The lowgrade anxiety is still lurking on the edges, but even when I feel it flare, I can get it to die down quickly enough. Hell, last week (or the week before?) I saw an ant in my kitchen, and you know what? I didn’t have a panic attack! I quickly swatted at and smashed the ant, but I didn’t have a panic attack. That’s huge for me. Similarly, last night I thought Morgan had found a dead roach (she didn’t---it was a silverfish), and again, I didn’t have a panic attack. I wasn’t thrilled to see either the ant or what I thought was a roach, but I didn’t have a panic attack. And that’s really big for me, because typically those two insects will send me into panic attacks due to childhood traumas related to them, but that didn’t happen this time. I was able to just handle it, like an adult. It was incredible.

And it’s not just with the anxiety. I think that the Lexapro is helping with the depression, too. Not so much with my low energy (that still needs a lot of work), but like . . . it’s easier for me to employ CBT now, to bat back intrusive thoughts. My suicidal ideation isn’t as frequent. And it’s like . . . over the past couple of weeks, I’ve been thinking a lot about things. I mentioned this in another post, but to go into more detail, I’ve been thinking a lot about how I regard myself, and how I treat myself. For years now, I’ve had such a hard time seeing any good in myself. I’ve had a hard time appreciating myself, or thinking that I deserve good things. I’ve been immensely quick to tear myself down, and when I’m complimented, I’ve found it difficult to accept or believe. My intrusive thoughts are often in second-person, and it’s things like, “You should just kill yourself,” or, “you’re worthless,” or variations thereof. And I’ve been thinking lately . . . why? Why is it that my brain tells me that I don’t deserve good things? That I should feel ashamed for doing nice things for myself, or even basic, necessary things like eating? I’m not a bad person. I’m not. I might not be the best person in the world (who is?), but I’m not a bad person. I don’t hurt others, and I don’t condone other people hurting others. I try to be kind, and I’m compassionate. I’m smart, and resourceful. I help others when I can, and I’m supportive and loving toward those I care about especially. I might not be the best person in the universe, but I’m also not bad, and there are so many terrible people out there (people who do hurt others) who are nice to themselves and happy with themselves, so why shouldn’t I be? Why should I be here tearing myself down, hating myself, punishing myself when there are truly hateful people out there who like themselves and treat themselves kindly? Why should I sit here feeling like I’m the scum of the Earth when, even if I’m not perfect, I’m a far cry from some of the worst out there, and the worst out there do love themselves?

Maybe that’s not the best way of looking at things, but my basic point is that I’ve realized that all those thoughts I have about how I’m horrible, undeserving of even basic kindness from myself or others, a waste of space, stupid, worthless, completely unlovable---even if I’m not a wonderful person, on a basic level, I’m nowhere near as bad as my intrusive thoughts make me out to be. And those intrusive thoughts aren’t doing anyone any good. They’re not doing me any good, because they just make me feel bad about myself. They’re not doing anyone else any good, because me feeling bad about myself doesn’t contribute anything to society either, and it also means I’m less likely to be present for opportunities where I could make a difference, maybe. I shouldn’t be burdened by this. I deserve to like myself, I deserve to have some confidence. And that’s not arrogance, that’s not vanity, that’s just basic self-care. (And yeah, I’m kind of lowkey quoting the Fab 5 here, but let me live, they teach good lessons.) I’m not perfect, but I don’t have to be. I can still appreciate that I’m not a bad person even if I’m not perfect, and I can always try to do better.

I don’t know if it’s the Lexapro that has enabled me to think about these things, or what. I do know that the intrusive thoughts have been a bit less lately, and also that I’ve been able to more easily combat the intrusive thoughts back. (Like when I have the intrusive suicide thoughts, I can say “no,” and when I have the intrusive thoughts about how I’m undeserving of kindness, I can bat that back, too.) It’s not perfect, just like with the anxiety. It’s still there, and even over the past couple weeks I’ve had some real depressed moments / nights. (The fact that I’m so addicted to Hollow Knight at the moment is part of this; I always crave video games when I’m depressed, because they’re genuinely good for my mental health.) Maybe I do need a stronger dose, or maybe it’ll just take a little more time to sink in as my doctor has said. I don’t know. But what I do know is that I’ve noticed a difference over the past couple weeks, and an improvement, and I want to keep getting better. And you know what?

I’m kind of mad at myself for being scared of medication for so long. I’m kind of mad at myself for not doing this sooner, for having to get to such a state where I could not calm my body down until I finally went and got it. I could have been improving YEARS ago. But the important thing is that I’ve got it now, and you know what? They always talk about how SSRIs can be addictive and you should wean of, but I don’t know if I ever will. I don’t know if my brain chemistry will ever be “right.” I might need this medicine forever, and I’m fine with that. You don’t say a diabetic is addicted to insulin, do you? So why would you say that about someone who needs some medication to make their brain not try to kill them each day? If I have to take a pill every day for the rest of my life, I’m cool with that. If it helps me with the anxiety and depression, I’m more than cool with that. Because for the first time in a long time I feel like I’m getting some of my fire back. It’s not perfect yet, I’m not at a full 100% yet, but I feel like I’m starting to get there, and I want to get there, I want that back. And if this medicine gets me there, I’m all for it.

So yeah. I’m not a terrible person. I am deserving of basic kindness. I deserve to get this flame re-lit, and I think the Lexapro is actually helping me with that. And if it is a result of the Lexapro, then I’m excited for it to keep helping me.

Also?

JAPAN IN ONE MONTH WOOOOOOOOOOO

(a reminder: DO NOT reblog this or I will delete it and block you, thanks)

#apologies to mobile users for the length lol #but yeah i'm starting to feel like ME again #the anxiety (paranoia at times tbh) did an incredible job putting out my fire #crushing my spirit and ruining me #and the depression helped the anxiety do this #but i feel like i'm finally rekindling that fire #after YEARS of it being out #i had a moment at the grocery store today that felt like classic ME #it was such a small thing but it felt like a power move and i could almost cry now thinking about it #idk if it's because of the medicine but if it is i'm grateful for it #i'm so beyond tired of being paralyzed by fear. i'm so beyond tired of hating myself #i want to change that #the road to recovery is not a straight line and so i expect i might relapse sometimes but #i want to keep pushing forward. i want to get better and i want myself back #and for the first time in years i've got real hope that i can do that

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seesarahaccomplishstuff · 3 years

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Therapy today helped a bit.

I told my therapist how I’ve been having intense breakdowns since Monday and haven’t been doing okay.

She asked what happened and I told her how I thought the childhood stuff wouldn’t bother me because it was so long ago, but it’s so frustrating to see how much my parents fucked me up. And now there’s this huge list of ways I’m broken that won’t stop growing. And it’s my entire personality. And more people are leaving and that triggered my anxiety, and someone that I’m trying to trust massively crossed a boundary that made my rejection issues even worse.

So she nodded and said “you have a lot to work on. And you really jumped all into it, which is really great, but you’re going to feel like you’re losing for a while. It’s going to overwhelm you a lot. And it’s going to feel easier to lock yourself in your room and off yourself.” (Which I didn’t expect her to say, but she’s right) So I said, “I just don’t fully see the point in trying to fix 30 years of broken.”

“What’s wrong with your personality?” “It’s all fucked up. Everything I do is codependent.” “Sure. Give me an example.” And I couldn’t think of one offhand, so I said, “the thing I realized the other day was I do something for someone because I care right? Which is fine. But also when people are stressed about their situation they get mad. And when that happens I get snapped at and shoved away. So I help to avoid that too I think.”

She was not sold on that. “You used to buy dinner for friends a lot. You did that so you wouldn’t get in trouble?” “No. I did it because I like when people do nice things for me and they don’t always make sure they can eat so I do it so they feel cared about and are healthy.” “That’s just being kind. When you would pay a bill for them they typically pay it right back. So is that codependent?” “No. They need help so I help and they pay it back.” “The times you did it when you didn’t have money to spare. (Which I argued and she called me out lol) The times you let them blow off repaying- that was codependent. You do have a lot of codependent tendencies. But kindness is inherently codependent. You can’t rip apart any time you’ve shown someone kindness. Your biggest codependency issue is not holding boundaries for yourself.”

“You need to repeat the phrase ‘People treat you the way you’ve taught them to treat you’.” “My friend used to say that to me at least once a week.” “Yea well, they’re smart and we’ve covered that you needed to listen to what they’d tell you more than you did. You also need to remember that you don’t control other’s emotions. And other people don’t control yours.”

“People think you’re manipulative and controlling. That’s what they’ve taken from your behavior. You can’t control that. You know it’s not what you intended. You know you’ve been improving for many months. I know you have. But you made them feel a certain way and their opinions didn’t change. You can look at that and acknowledge it and re-examine your behavior like you are. But you can’t change their minds. And their feelings don’t make you that person. So fixating on it doesn’t get you anywhere.”

And then she asked me if I was doing all of this for me or them and I told her I’m having a hard time prioritizing myself. That it pisses me off when people pull the “great pain means great growth. You’ll look back and smile” bullshit. Because the way this feels is terrible and I hate it. So, I know I can’t change anyone’s view of me, but I’m doing all this to try and be who I wanted to be for people who had to leave because of my behavior. And she accepted that.

I also have to start some EDM... pretty sure it’s 4 letters. It’s something to work through past trauma. She said she’d send videos to watch. My alanon group leader asked if she did that sort of thing last week so I guess that’s just where we are. Wait lol... edm is music lemme actually Google the acronym so I seem less ignorant. EMDR, damn dyslexia. Anyway. That.

But basically, I need to really work to not shred myself when I’m low. It’s gotten bad. I also need to start on my books that came yesterday. 2/3 are here. She wants me to try and list my codependent behaviors. I also need to start painting and journaling again. I like this outlet and it’s easiest for my brain, but the way I was doing it all in my watercolor notebook was really therapeutic. It’s just been a bitch of a week.

I’ll be fine and I feel less like having a breakdown or dying. I think I know another thing that is really fucking with me through everything, but I don’t feel comfortable posting it here right now I think. I also can’t do anything about it.

Last night in alanon a woman said “when one door closes another one opens, but the hallway is hell.” And like, yea. Fuck dude. I took a psych class once where the teacher had a gazillion psych type degrees and would open the class with us getting to ask about mental health shit. And one kid asked if it was possible to change personalities. And he said “sure, but you usually see it following a trauma where it rewrites your thought processes. Because it’s hell to do otherwise, and a lot of people can’t handle it.” And I get it now. I thought he meant habits and comfort zones. But it feels like being handed a pile of shards that used to be your brain and given a timelimit to reassemble it. But half the pieces are trauma copies and you have to figure out which parts are imposters, but they actually fit better than the pieces that should be there. And if you fail you lose everything.

Anyway, that’s where I am today. I queued a couple posts last night so you might see random downers, but what I’m thinking of doing is only reblogging positive stuff, and queueing negative stuff that resonated for like, 7am. And I say that because sometimes I rescroll my blog to recount the day or previous day to either feel good with the good posts again or reevaluate the things I’ve said the day before. Since with my mood they don’t always apply still or I may have a totally different approach at that thought. And I do that when I go to bed around 2. So at 7 I won’t be seeing negative shit right before bed. Cuz I’ve fallen asleep and woken up bitter the last few days.

We’ll see. I have lots to do today. I’ve been off twitter so no children have reminded me to do my taxes. I also have to get a new phone today so I’m fully out from under my mother. And I have insurance stuff and inspection cleaning to tackle. It’s only 1 and I’m ready to call it a day.

I hope what my therapist said helps anyone else who is struggling. I like hearing the lines that have stuck with patients and really helped them. So when it doesn’t fuck with me I’d like to be open about what I discuss in therapy. I always used to think it’d solve so many of my problems if I could send my friends zoom links of my sessions since I’m so bad at expressing myself lol. So this is also a bit of an exercise for me to be more outspoken about my feelings (if this bothers anyone you can send an anonymous ask) And therapy isn’t accessible to everyone so maybe it gives someone what they need to go forward a bit in their struggles. (Alanon and CoDa are free and on zoom now though! Definitely look into it if it applies to you!)

There’s a line in a bts song. Idk which one honestly, Ik it’s in the BE photo book though I can post a pic. It comes to mind because my friend would write it a lot when they first heard it. And it’s something like “sometimes we get to know that broken is beautiful”. My therapist today said “you are broken, everyone is. And no one is as broken as they think they are.” I hope one day this feels like a beautiful moment in my life and not the purgatory it feels like. I hope I grow enough for it to be worth it.

#4/15 #alanon #coda #codependency #growth #Thursday therapy #pmdd #motivation #broken #hope

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c-elestia · 3 years

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Hello~ it me.

I'm not using my main personal blog because I don't really want to be identified nor do I want anyone I know finding this. I'm gonna namedrop people but I doubt anyone will find this and if they do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Eric and I broke up last summer. I'm dating a wonderful guy now. But we've been struggling a lot because I'm unwillingly uprooting a ton of trauma and I am having a REALLY hard time sorting through it and making sense of it all. I feel terrible about how I react to certain situations. They aren't logical reactions and I'm finding it very hard to control them. So I'm going to try to take the time to go through my life & see where the connections are and hopefully make sense of all of it.

If I could pinpoint the start of any sort of trauma, it would be with my dad. It's complicated because he's grown a lot and he's not nearly as bad, but it was a struggle for me to deal with him. The things I remember most when I was a child was when he would be mad at me and refuse to talk to me. I remember there was one night where I gave him attitude and he got mad at me. My friend encouraged me to apologize, which I went out and did. I went to give him a hug, and he pushed me away and told me to go away.

There were many times where my dad would get mad at me and I felt like I was a bad child, so I never left my room. I wouldn't even go downstairs to eat. I would intentionally starve myself because I didn't want to face my parents. I would go days without eating. It was strange because this was all self inflicted - my parents didn't tell me to do this. Something in me wanted to punish myself because I did something wrong. I see myself doing this a lot now that I'm an adult. If I feel like I did something wrong, I jump to withholding something from myself to make up for it. I also remember when my mom got mad at me, I went in my closet & scratched my arms. It was the first time I remember attempting self harm. Again, this wasn't encouraged by my parents - it was completely self inflicted. I don't know why I had these extreme reactions to these things, but that's where I remember this all starting.

Growing up, I was very deprived from affection and validation from my parents, so I searched for it in relationships. My first 'real' relationship was in middle school, when I was 12. I dated a boy named Brian. I legit thought we were gonna get married lol. I can't remember our relationship that well cause I was a kid, but I remember him being really controlling. He wouldn't let me do certain things. I can't remember what or why, but that's all I really remember. He wasn't that bad, honestly. But I felt really restricted when I was with him sometimes.

After that, I started dating Joseph. I think that's when I had more trauma come up in my life. We only dated a few months, but he was obsessed with me. He told me we would get married and we'd be together forever, and I ate that shit up because no one had ever told me that before. I remember he would take me behind the school and try to make out with me and touch me. There were a lot of times where I didn't want to do this, but I didn't say anything because I wasn't sure how to. I remember him telling me not to leave him and that I was his while he was doing this. It was... really disturbing when I think back to it. We ended up breaking up after we had a fight & he didn't want to get back with me afterwards. I was only a kid, but that summer vacation was pretty much one of the worst.

The whole experience was traumatic. I truly believed he wouldn't leave because he was the first guy who said he wouldn't, and then he left. I would have flashbacks of us behind the school and have panic attacks. I actually think that's the first time I remember experiencing panic attacks. It was bad...

It took me a while to get over him. Honestly, I don't think I did fully until recently. Anyway - after that, I started dating this guy named Kyle. I met him online and we were an LDR relationship. We dated for about a year and a half I think? He was fine, the only thing that was stressful was that when I wanted to break up with him, he threatened to hurt or kill himself if I left. That was hard, but I was able to leave him without any traumatic repercussions.

I started dating Isaac after that. We dated for about three years. He was pretty much there while I was going through the worst of my mental health. This was when the psychosis, multiple personalities, anger/depression/anxiety was at it’s worst. He tried his best but we fell out. He was ok. He had anger issues which didn’t help. We had a lot of fights that included a lot of yelling and crying and him punching his wall, breaking things, all that ~fun~ stuff. He never put a hand on me but he would take out his anger on objects and that scared me a lot. The only trauma I really got from him was getting scared whenever someone raised their voice at me or they were angry at me.

After that, I started dating Skyler. We weren’t together for that long, but he went to boot camp & and we weren’t sure if we would stay together after he joined the military. After he graduated from boot camp, he ignored me for a couple weeks and then broke up with me. I was at the height of my stress for multiple reasons, and that was the tipping point. I tried to kill myself after he broke up with me. Ended up in the hospital for a week during Christmas ~all that fun stuff~

I got involved with Joseph again. I was an idiot and believed his lies again. He said he wanted to make me happy and regretted how he treated me while he was younger. He just wanted one more chance to make me happy and be together for real, now that we were older. And I ATE that shit up, like before.

We had sex a few times and apparently he lost feelings a few months while we were talking. lol. cool.

It took me a long time for me to get over him, a huge roller coaster of him using me for his own benefit and believing he became a better person, only to realize he was the same shitty scumbag. Because of Joseph I am TERRIFIED of getting used or getting played by someone I love.

Also.... Brian from my Year Up cohort - we weren’t dating and I wasn’t attracted to him, but he pretty much bullied me while we were friends & then sexually assaulted me at a party, and then blocked me & continued to hang out with our mutual friends, and refused to give me any closure. That doesn’t need any explanation why that was traumatic.

FINALLY... we reach Eric. He was the most abusive, yet it was not as noticeable as the others. We were together the longest. Ended up getting married. He was also there while I went through a lot of mental health struggles. I was still dealing with multiple personalities and anger/anxiety/depression. I was not the best partner to him, I will admit that. It took me a really long time to improve myself. but he wasn’t perfect, either. He cheated on me and did things that he knew would make me uncomfortable multiple times.

He would say he wanted to be there for me, but would get mad at me if I reached out for support and accused me for being the reason he didn’t have free time. He would refuse to acknowledge what I did for him and refused to let me help him, and felt like he was doing most of the work in the relationship. EVERY TIME I approached him with something, he would get defensive and refuse to come up with a solution or somehow turn it on me. I literally do not remember a single instance where we communicated in a healthy way because he was so hard to work with.

Whenever we had a bad argument (if I felt like he did something that upset me) it would somehow turn into me comforting him because he would tell me how worthless and shitty he was and how I should leave him. Typing that out right now really sucks because I realize I have a habit of doing that now, and maybe it helps to know that this is where it may have come from.

He would say everything was his fault yet at the same time, he had this way of making me feel like everything was my fault... even at the end of our relationship he basically said us breaking up was my fault. It doesn’t make sense, but I can’t help but listen to him because that’s all I’ve been used to for years. I can’t help but feel guilty for literally everything I do.

Wow... that was a lot. I have a lot of history of trauma, and I don’t think I even captured everything, but this is most of it. I’m gonna add a TL;DR just so I can organize my thoughts.

Trauma list of fun:

Parents: Did not give me a lot of validation/affection/encouragement, probably contributed to my low self esteem & craving affection from other parties. Would punish myself as a child whenever I felt like I did something bad (not eating/scratching myself.) Dad ignored me a lot and refused to talk to me when I did something that made him angry. Probably why getting ignored makes me anxious.

Joseph: lol this boy fucked me up BIG TIME. Was the first guy that told me we’d be ~together 5ever~ (was a total lie.) Major lovebombing. Did things to me without my full consent. Because of that, I started having panic attacks and flashbacks of traumatic experiences for the first time. After we grew up, used me for sex or when he was lonely and would lovebomb me when I started to get distant so I would get pulled back in.

Isaac: Was ok. He had anger issues so I get anxious or scared whenever someone gets violent or raises their voice at me.

Skyler: Ignored me for weeks without an answer whether or not we were still together. Ended up breaking up with me. Also probably why me getting ignored makes me anxious bc I’m always assuming it’s something bad

Brian: ...sexual assault

Eric: Also fucked me up big time :^) Gaslit me constantly, made me feel crazy, made me question everything, made me feel like everything was my fault and he was doing all the work, did things behind my back. I adored this guy and thought he was great, only for him to abuse me in the background in subtle ways. He left me without saying goodbye which made my abandonment issues SO MUCH WORSE.

List of common triggers, maybe?:

-Getting ignored

-Language that feels like I am being blamed

-People raising their voice at me

-People being violent near me

-Any sense that someone is going to abandon me

This is a good start so far. I’ve sorted out a lot and can see a few patterns. I’ll need to think about what people can do to help me and how I can help myself.

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ratsntophats · 6 years

Text

Personal

I doubt anyone will read this. I doubt anyone will care. But at this point, i need to get this out of my system. Im not looking for pity points. Im not looking for someone to give me anything at all. I just wish things were easier.

This year fucking blows. I know i know, i always try to be the optimist. Open minded, life is what you make it, yadda yadda. But honestly, there is a darkness in me too, and sometimes i just have to embrace the inevitable. I can't always be bright. I cant always feel hope. Right now i feel buried in the ground with no understanding or motivation to get back up.

Lets piece this one thing at a time.

January. January was pretty cool. I was in love with a girl and a boy, taboo I know. But i thought i was happy. I thought WE were happy. But i guess i was wrong. I was naive. I only saw what i wanted to, i guess? Anyway. In January we all went to Colorado on vacation. It was relaxing, it was fun. We eat, we got high, we saw new places. We even scouted out where we might want to move in a few years, a school we might want to attend. At the time I wasn't totally sole on this plan. Moving halfway across the country is a big deal. But no means did i think this event would bring about an end to my false happiness, the love i thought was reciprocated, from the girl i dumbly wanted to marry.

February comes around. The break up. Out of the blue i get a text. "We need to talk". I was at work when this happened. My heart sunk. Without any warning, or prior talks, i knew. I knew she had given up, somehow. I tried to convince myself that i was overreacting. Of course this wasnt what she wanted to talk about. But i retreated into the office, haunted by fear, anxiety, doubt, and confusion. I cried my eyes out. My voice came hoarse on the walkie system when my coworker tried to find me. He tried ro console me, but i couldn't explain. How could i tell him that i was dating her? She didn't want anyone to know. The entire relationship it killed me inside. I wanted the world to know that this beautiful girl was my girlfriend but she wanted to hide. She was ashamed of me, i guess. Of us. How could i explain that i thought my "roommate", who worked at the same company nonetheleas, was breaking up with me?

After a long, painful shift i returned home. We waited. She wasnt home. We waited. It wae last midnight when she returned to "talk". She explained that she had to talk to someone else first. Someone else she had just met and barely knew. She made us wait, in utmost confusion, until the middle of the night, for HER to explain what this"talk" was about.

"I think we should break up." I couldn't handle it. In one of my weakest moments, heartbroken, I ran outside the apartment sobbing, wandering the streets alone, in my PJs. I don't know how long i wae gone. Eventually we came back. More things werw discussed. I wasn't fully there, not for a while. Even after, i wasnt myself for some time. I don't know how i let it hurt me this bad. But i truly loved her. My dumb self loved her and watched her hook up with the random guy i was never supposed to worry about. It was over. She was never proud of me, of us. For all i know it could have meant nothing to her. And now here i am, almost a year later, still thinking of that beautiful girl.

The awkward month continued. I, luckily, started a new job which kept me busy. I was so excited to make a difference. I felt so proud of my first salaried job.

I was proud. Until, fast forward to months, shit hits the fan. On April Fools day of all days I get on the wrong end of a dispute with one of my clients and am shoved head first into a god damned TV stand. I have never seen so much blood in my life. I was rushed off to the ER, and found that i had broken multiple bones in my nose and cheek, plus a huge gash where i landed. I spend the night in the hospital. The next day, i am cleared to rest at home.

2 weeks of recovery go by slowly. I get a lot of messages of concern and well wishes. I return to work briefly, only allowed to do light office work. Then, i take a month long hiatus to recover from a surgery that fixes my mess of a face and protects against potential future damage with titanium plates. I am now a cyborg.

The next few months flew by, filled with stress and me trying to overcome my trauma, having to see the client that hurt me every day, having to walk into the room where i was hurt. I saw a therapist for the break up and post accident combo. I was a mess. I felt true fear for the first time. I didnt understand it and i didn't know who i was or who i had become. I felt ugly and unwanted. But i pushed myself to go to work, i pushed myself to face my fears. My work life improved so much that i no longer had a home life. I even went to work in my dreams.

Months went on like this, saying goodbye to old coworkers and hello to new ones. I strived to become better, but the job was eating me alive. I no longer felt that overwhelming fear i once had. Instead, i started to feel less and less. I wasn't myself. In fact, i hadn't been myself for quite some time. My passion for the job faded, though my love for my clients will always remain.

November. The kicker. I continued to search for jobs to free myself and make my life my own again. I had several mediocre interviews. None of them felt right. Then, i happened upon a job i truly wanted. A guidance counseling gig. My field. I spoke alone with the school principal and actually enjoyed an interview. Honestly, this was the best interview I've ever encountered. I left the school in such a good mood, excited for my future, buying my colleague donuts and coffee on my way back to the office. Though i had to work late that night, it was one night i didnt mind.

Two days later, i received a voicemail early in the morning. "I'd like to extend an offer of employment to you." I returned the call immediately after my shift, an excitedly accepted my first school counseling job! One that i had been fighting for for 5 years! Trying to be respectful, i spoke to my supervisor shortly after and gave my two weeks notice. I thought i was doing the right thing. I felt terrible for making things difficult on my colleagues, but i wasn't about to turn down this opportunity. This was my time to shine.

November 13th. I was supposed to start November 13th. The principal had informed me that i would hear back from the charter school HR in a few days, that they would be sending me over paperwork with salary information and so on. A few days passed. Nothing. I called the school, the principal was unavailable. I was told they would have him return my call. I gave them some more time. Nothing. I called again, but this time i was met with confusion. "Mr. P no longer works here." Completely baffled, i asked for more information and was told the new administrator would contact me as soon as possible. What had happened? What the heck was going on? I tried to stay optimistic and gave them more time. Still nothing. Eventually i was able to get a hold of the new principal who explained his hands were tied. He was fully aware of my situation and haf passed along my information to HR multiple times. I just had to wait for them.

I waited. And waited. Spoke to the original recruiter that contacted me about the job several times. He didnt know anything. His boss would contact me, he said. So i waited. Finally i received a vague email of some HR personnel asking for a good time to speak over the phone. I was able to clarify that this was one of the people I had been waiting for! We set up a time to talk and i anxiously waited for her to call me with my new salary and details on my start date.

She called, but not about that. This was an interview. A what? A interview. I had to continue to interview for the position i had thought i had already accepted. There was some weird ass miscommunication going on. But i went with it. Once the call was over, i just cried. I had been waiting and waiting for someone to give me more information, and now they had left me with even more questions?

Later that week, i think, my timeline is fuzzy, i received another phone call for ANOTHER interview. I had to interview once again for the job i thought was mine. I went, hoping for the best, but my stomach in knots. Once there, i was told to fill out an application. ARE YOU SERIOUS??? i filled out thw stupid paper and was eventually ushered into the woman's office for the worst interview of my life. I'm not kidding. I had the best and worst interviews in my life within one month FOR THE SAME FLIPPING JOB. The lady stonewalled me for over an hour. Seriously. Question after question after question. I lost myself. I couldn't answer so many of her specifics and the silence of my not knowung was killing me. I wanted to die. To top it all off, she asked me why i left my previous job. Are you serious? I was honest. I told her that i had accepted ths job from the principal and was due to start. No comment, no apologies for communication. She didn't even bat an eye.

And then it was over. I left and returned home, a wreck, on November 13th, the same day i was supposed to start working at my "dream job". Two days later i saw the job posted again on indeed. It still haunts me to this day. I never heard from the stonewall lady, or any of HR, again. Who knows where Mr. P went.

And here i am, nearly a month later, jobless, essentially a hermit, drinking a bottle of wine in the shower before crawling into bed and sobbing. Okay, it was like a 1/4 of a bottle. But still. I'm a mess.

Ironically? I was offered another job. Im going to fill out paperwork tomorrow. But i dont want it. I don't trust it. I actually didn't officially accept it but i think theyre trying to get me by all means possible. A marketing job. The people feel nice, but it feels sketchy. How sad that the idea of a new job makes me break down into tears. How do i know its mine? Do i even want it? What do i want? I dont know anymore.

This became far longer than expected. Perhaps I'm overdue. I wonder what the future holds for me.

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alliekatsblog-blog · 5 years

Text

Writing The Pain Away

Disclaimer: some phrases are direct quotes from the book wonder over worry and from there, reflected on how it applies to me personally.

It has been approximately a year since I have left home and tried to make it on my own. My failures have come full circle as I am home once again, working, and doing my chores— everything I was supposed to do in the first place. Over the past few months, experience has made me wiser in a way no one should ever have to learn a lesson, but as I have come to realize, it was necessary for me to grow (even if it was a horrific experience). I want to have an open communication with you so that I am open and honest, no longer lying to myself or others; that is the foundation of moving forward.

I will spare you the details of eating out of garbage cans, living with total stranger in between living with “friends”, sleeping in bathrooms, and almost having a criminal charge for stealing food so that I could eat for the first time in four days. Simply put: it was really hard in many ways. The hardships went so far as to be sexually assaulted in Planet Hollywood, which is where many women are sold for sex trafficking. I am blessed to have survived. Without a doubt, I lost my way. Last year, I was religious and happy, things going neutral with my relationships with my parents (that’s a huge improvement from the usual constant arguing). I will talk mostly about how these experiences led me to suicide and what I have learned from the advice from my parents, professionals, and total strangers who have no motive to steer me right or wrong. Each perspective was helpful and unique in different ways.

My parents have never been perfect—what human is? I, myself, am extremely flawed. Something I’ve learned from reading self-help books, talking to therapists from everyone ranging from Mr. Moses to Ms. Mia Perry is that my upbringing has played a huge role in who I am today. It is a mixture of both nature and nurture. I am, by nature, bipolar, depression, ADHD, and anxiety. And that’s okay. It cannot be helped—it is a chemical imbalance that cannot be controlled. Something that could have been controlled was the abuse and sadness I endured. From the very day of our birth there are things that will change who we are and how we see the world. I saw abuse and felt insecure, stupid, and degraded for as long as my memory goes back. That’s not totally the fault of my parents—part of it is, but it is also based on things outside their control. There are so many factors that made me feel less than for a long time. I felt low and terrible about myself and knew I was different, disliked, and many other things among my peers around second grade. The point of no return happened around middle school. Physical abuse stopped, but emotional abuse continued. And what I came to realize, is that while the delivery was missing the mark, my parents only acted this way to protect me. They may not have acted in a way that I wished they would have been— more gently supportive—but they did that while I was going up and was not effective. That is my fault. I was not receptive to that method, so they had to change tactics at some point. My parents are not to blame for everything—only their actions and it’s my responsibility to take blame for my actions as well.

From the eighth grade to this very day I have felt like a slut. I’m not going to go into detail about that, but it was a very big part of who I thought I was (more on that later). My depression deepened but I was not honest with myself and therefore could never tell doctors how I felt properly, only saying I am feeling fine and so on and so forth. For many years I couldn’t get on the right medication. That is also my fault. I lied to others for so many years because I was lying to myself.

The “missed high five” happened in high school. My parents gave me unconditional love, support, freedom, happy memories, and many smiles. It was me who was not putting in an effort. I had not forgiven my parents in the way they forgave me. My mom and dad were trying to move on from the past and work for a better future, but I was stuck in the past. I was deaf, dumb, and blind to the hard work my parents put in to giving me a better future. That’s around the time I started going to therapy, if my memory serves correctly. I was so resistant to any and all help given to me because I was in denial about my parents’ love, living in the past. However, with Dr. Trent (mildly) and Dr. Mia Perry, I have been slowly starting to heal from the trauma that I faced, making me feel ready to move forward. It is hard work, but I can feel the difference in my heart. The easiest way to describe it is that my heart no longer feels black.

The feelings of being a slut, a dumb girl, unworthy, unlovable—and many other derogative adjectives that I refuse to speak of because they are nothing more than lies—are the emotions that became too strong to cope with in Las Vegas.

Now to the true point of this open letter to myself and my parents.

I have come to realize many things this past year—the obvious true value of family, the dark reality of friendships, abusive relationship, finding love in all the wrong places, degrading my self-worth, esteem, and betraying my personal values to please others.

I would like to digress for a moment and talk about Miley Cyrus. She was a sweet and young girl before the Disney channel, but fell into bad behaviors and making bad choices. She did this to experiment and find herself, enjoying the fast party life. It was all about having fun. Within the past year, she found herself again. You can even hear this in her music, “Malibu” and most recently (and the one that hits home for me) “Slide Away”.

Woo ooh, woo ooh, woo ooh

Once upon a time, it was paradise

Once upon a time, I was paralyzed

Think I'm gonna miss these harbor lights

But it's time to let it go

Once upon a time, it was made for us

Woke up one day, it had turned to dust

Baby, we were found, but now we're lost

So it's time to let it go

I want my house in the hills

Don't want the whiskey and pills

I don't give up easily

But I don't think I'm down

So won't you slide away

Back to the ocean, I'll go back to the city lights

So won't you slide away

Back to the ocean, la la la, you'll slide away

So won't you slide away

Back to the ocean, I'll go back to the city lights

So won't you slide away

Back to the ocean, la la la, you'll slide away

Once upon a time, it was paradise

Once upon a time, I was paralyzed

Think I'm gonna miss these harbor lights

But it's time to let it go

Once upon a time, it was made for us (For us)

Woke up one day, it had turned to dust

Baby, we were found, but now we're lost

So it's time to let it go

Move on, we're not 17

I'm not who I used to be

You say that everything changed

You're right, we're grown now

So won't you slide away

Back to the ocean, I'll go back to the city lights

So won't you slide away

Back to the ocean, la la la, you'll slide away

So won't you slide away

Back to the ocean, I'll go back to the city lights

So won't you slide away

Back to the ocean, la la la, you'll slide away

Move on, we're not 17

I'm not who I used to be

You say that everything changed

You're right, we're grown now

This song made me break down in tears for around thirty minutes because I could relate to her so much. Sure, I didn’t drink alcohol very often and never did any drugs beyond weed, but it still hold true. No matter how “harmless” it seemed, it took a major toll in a way I could not see.

Who I am, This is Me

I have many talents and gifts within me that have gone years untapped and abandoned. I will not let these gifts given to me by God die inside without making a change in this world. Tomorrow may never come, so it is my responsibility to put in the hard work to make those changes today. Why wait for tomorrow when you can make a change today? There are many thoughts that come to our minds—who are you to do this? Will anyone care? They are better than you—but those are worries. To live a full life we must choose wonder over worry. I worry about imperfections and mistakes I make, living a life with nothing but regret. I worry I’ll never repair my family relationships. I have a million ideas I want to go for but do not know how and I’m afraid I’ll never make my mom happy. I’m being forced into the grownup world and realism but I’m also not someone I recognize anymore.

I am faced with a choice each and every day of my life that I have to make an effort to really change my life. I have to tame my thoughts and worry to make room for wonder. I have to say, “hello judgment/anxiety. I see you and know you’re trying to keep me safe, but what you’re doing isn’t always healthy. I’m on an important adventure and you are forbidden from navigating it. Worry has manifested into myths I believe about myself, but that’s just the problem: they are myths and there is no merit to what they say about me. I am not smart enough. I am not talented enough. I am not attractive enough. I am not powerful enough. I am not strong enough. I am not lovable enough. I am not perfect enough. All these myths held me back and made me feel as though I wasn’t worthy of real love and acceptance from people who care, so I turned to abusive boyfriends and weed. We can let myths determine our lives or we can move on and create a new story that lets us thrive. That is how we choose wonder over worry.

We will always find evidence for what we choose to believe about ourselves based on self-perception. Sometimes those perspectives serve us positively and others will tether us to never growing up and becoming who we are meant to be. As individuals, we must live out our wild truth—for me, it’s a writer who becomes a figure to change lives of others, to be a caring wife and mother, get more piercings and dye my hair, go to college and get my degree… mostly, I want to express “wild child” personality in a more responsible way that is acceptable for my age, values, morals, and religion. When I try to live up to the mirage of what another person wants my life to look like—Mom, Dad, abusive boyfriends, fake friends—I am literally killing myself, slowly and painfully. I will lose my soul and purpose in life. I must always obey who I am, the vision I have for myself, and who I need to be to find my own happiness. When I am where I want to be, secure and safe, others will see my change and will be willing to have me in their life. I have betrayed myself trying so hard to the point of tears and anxiety attacks to be what I envisioned as a “perfect daughter”. I did it again trading myself and who I am for the sling of boys who don’t care about me. I didn’t listen because I didn’t know who or what I was. Nothing connected to my heart the way I am starting to connect now. I learned that in the past I have been a person who is vulnerable to change who I am to please others. That is one of my most toxic traits, even if the “change” is for the “better”. I can’t change who I am, but I can change my bad habits. There is no reason for me to be someone I’m not in personality if I am a good soul. I’ve also learned that I have to live in this moment. Thinking too far into the future and my path made me anxious because I saw who I am now in twenty years; by doing this I lost precious time today. I have learned to ask myself this simple yet complicated question: What’s true for you in this moment, and how will you live it out?

I have thought of three times that I lived in the moment and it made me grow for the better.

*going to college—I won’t make the same mistakes when I go back and I learned how to be among people who are equally as smart as me, who I can connect with and learn new things

*learning how to write because I am now able to see a brighter future for myself

*talking to Haider because even though it was rocky for a while, I was able to grow into a smarter woman who is much more prepared for a serious commitment with a quality man who my family likes

When I feel as though there are no reasons to continue in this moment, during a depressive episode, I realize that I must become one with my mental storm, move along with it, lean into the rain, listen to what it says to me, and use it as fuel to move forward. I must learn to love even the darkest parts of who I am because I am never going to part with those negative thoughts—even if I have the more than other people, other people still suffer from the same thing. I am not alone. The only way to move with the darkness until I reach the light, I have to ask myself: What’s the right next move? I must ask this question every single step of the way up the stairs of success. Even though I am scared, I am ready t repair my relationship with my parents, go to college, and work my way up the ladder at work. My next move is to communicate to my parents how I feel in a letter (hi there daddy! I took the first step!) I also need to pay my loans off (preferably by the hundreds! Since I’m at $700 now, if I take $100 each month, I’ll pay it off in 7 months, but maybe a little longer since I’m paying rent to mom from now on. Either way, it’s still progress. I won’t pay the $25 minimum because I REFUSE to settle for going back to school by 2021.)

Through minimalism and the lifestyle it brings, I’ve started asking myself, “What brings me joy?” with material items, but I am now asking myself that with every aspect of my life, which is why I did not hang out with that girl from work. Being high, committing crimes, and drinking are not things that spark joy inside me (though that was my intention with taking part in those things). I used to want to do things that made me happy, but I’ve come to realize that those things did not bring joy and thus were destroying me. Things that spark joy within me may not align with every single aspect of what my parents want for me, what Haider wants for me, what my “friends” wanted for me, but that’s okay. I am my own person and I have to find my own path… Just because I’m not a perfect daughter doesn’t mean I’m a slut, a smoker (anymore), or any other extreme. I have found a balance that makes me happy. And from there, I can build myself up to be a better person who I aspire to be.

This is my time to shine my light as bright as the sun. Two things will come from this: you find those who support you and who are threatened by it—who are the ones who bring you down, even if they don’t intend to? My fake friends were threatened by my talents that made my work make me a CT before any of them. In a way, Mom and I are both doing this to each other. The difference between family and friends is clear: we still love each other and will overcome this. Fake friends are only there when things are convenient with them. By taking time apart (or cutting people out completely) allows you to protect your energy. I have to be myself one hundred percent of the time, without fail because if I am not true to myself, I will always hold onto self-hatred and never grow. The people who should be in my life are the ones who feed my soul—family, Iman, Selma (who I met in college and helps me remember God and includes me in her prayers). Everyone is worthy of human decency and respect but not everyone is worthy of my love.

I still have a long way to go, but this past year has not gone without a major metamorphosis that has made me a better person, no matter how gruesome the experience was. My next targets are: feeling shame, unlovable, defeat, “imposter syndrome”, hiding, judgment (towards myself), jealousy (not so much this it it’s still a good skill to have anyway), anger (in more depth), suffering, avoidance, overwhelming feelings/anxiety (more in depth), loss, addiction to fake love, perfectionism and it’s unrealistic expectations, applying wisdom, feeling whole, beginning my true journey, and feeling complete with a full and graceful heart.

#worry not #be strong #be brave #strong #faithful

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thescentofwhiteroses · 7 years

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I wrote out this big long post that started with me apologizing for never being online and then ended up with me talking about mental health stuff (Namely how my OCD stuff being under control for the last couple years has resulted in me not always being very... Productive/motivated to do anything.) But then my phone died and I hadn't saved a draft yet. And I wasn't going to retype it all, because I'm on my phone not a computer, and was just going to say a few things but then look what fucking happened. My initial thoughts were about how lately I suck at time management, I'm having problems with not being able to focus at all, and then alternatively hyperfocusing on just one thing for hours, and it's making it so I leave work late, and then waste all my free time. And then I moved on to how also, without the terrible horrible anxious super bad feelings that came along with my obsessive thoughts that lead to compulsive actions, I am more likely to be avoidant about anxiety inducing things, because the anxiety is at a level I can tolerate just ignoring. Which led to me thinking about how my ADD brain gets overwhelmed at the thought of certain tasks very easily, and can't break things down into smaller chunks, or gets so caught up in making steps that I waste a shit ton of time, OR even better gets overwhelmed by the list of smaller tasks anyway. So then the rest of my brain is like, "fuck! this is making us anxious, better stop thinking about it, huh?" Which is a large part of the reason why I'll disappear from Tumblr periodically, because the cycle I was going through meant missing just one day made me slightly anxious, and the longer I wasn't on, the more anxious I'd get, until I would have to just avoid thinking about it, and therefore avoid getting online. This however was in some ways an improvement over how I used to be. Because it used to be an OCD thing for me, if I didn't get online, if I didn't catch up on my dashboard for the day, if I amassed too many backlogs from days I didn't catch up, my anxiety would be through the roof, and the obsessive thoughts and compulsive actions would get completely out of control. And the thing is the OCD was always the thing I was most reluctant to admit was a problem/want to change. I was so resentful of anything/anyone that prevented or even suggested I should try to stop the cycle, I think in part because fuck is it a good feeling when the obsessive thoughts and compulsive actions are properly satisfied. They feel like your entire reason for existing, so when they are fulfilled it feels so good. (And that part of the cycle is why they moved OCD out of the anxiety disorders category.) So it's just... So strange that of all the things, it's the OCD that's so well controlled now. And I s2g it was the b12 injections (which I did not get for that reason, it was just a surprising additional benefit that my anxiety suddenly chilled the fuck out) because meds and therapy could only barely touch the anxiety and panic attacks I'd been plagued with. And it's not like the OCD is completely gone, I just don't get the super horrible feelings anymore, so it's somewhat easier to stop obsessing, and if I am prevented (or stop myself) from following through on the actions that go along with the thoughts, it doesn't usually feel like the world is ending anymore, like it used to. Like I can almost forget that I even have OCD, because it's mostly really functional now, until other things get out of wack, and then the perfectionism that's linked to it causes way more problems than usual. But in general it's so well controlled/disguised that I would have to very deliberately use key terms in a certain way in order to even get that diagnosis. I've been diagnosed with it before, and I know the way I used to be about Tumblr and certain things at work in particular absolutely were the result of obsessive thoughts that lead to compulsive actions, all fueled by terrible, horrible, fucking paralyzing feelings of anxiety and panic, but it would be hard to convince anyone else that I still have it. But also it's hard because I feel like the perfectionism is part of my personality, and yet I also know how deeply it's linked to the OCD stuff. So which came first? And like, I always come back to the fact that so many things I have/feel/think are signs of trauma, but I don't remember anything traumatic enough to cause them. And so then I see stuff talking about it and I relate to it so much but feel like i shouldn't because I didn't experience any real trauma, ever, as far as I am aware. Idk, and then there's also my mother's theory that I'm on the spectrum, and I've been diagnosed with some sort sensory integration issue, but that was as a teenager, even though every other thing that psychiatrist diagnosed me with eventually ended up being confirmed by other psychiatrists/people with the licencing and training to do so in more recent years too. So I often wonder what exactly I actually have. Like, I am neurodivergent, that's for sure, and I think I usually accurately attribute various issues I have to the correct disorder of the ones I've been diagnosed with, but what if I've been misdiagnosed? Or am just missing some diagnosis? I mean, like, bipolar disorder, OCD, ADD, generalized anxiety disorder, panic attacks, whatever the sensory stuff is???? That's a lot at once. How much of it is separate things, and which things really are just parts of something else? How can I ever know for sure? I mean honestly, some of the way we diagnose things is a little arbitrary. Mainly that humans like for things to fit nicely into categorizes, but that doesn't always work, so occasionally we split up things into separate disorders that we used to consider all part of the same one, or conversely we end up combining things we used to have as different disorders into just one. And then there are some disorders that aren't exactly proper disorders, but ARE very real problems people face, and so the main reason they got named as disordered is so that insurance companies will take them seriously and cover services so people can get the help they need. Which is why labels can be helpful. I wish they weren't necessary, but they usually are. But anyway, I'm kinda a low-key mess right now, but seeing wrasslin' live on Monday night was fucking amazing, so at least I have that.

#breeposts #breeproblems

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stephhannes · 3 years

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dressed to anti-depress

in the last two years, i’ve spent a lot of time asking myself questions like “will getting a smoothie today cure my depression?” and “will cutting my hair cure my depression?” and the answer to both of those questions is no. but you know what will kinda cure depression? getting on anti-depressants.

earlier this year, my mental health was…concerningly bad, and quickly getting worse. i’ve recently gotten pretty good at managing my depression on my own by setting strict boundaries for myself and sticking to them (no screens allowed in my bedroom, exercising every day, no drinking alone etc) but out of nowhere, my anxiety began spiraling out of control. (my doctor suggested it’s due to ‘perhaps, ptsd’).

but basically, by the time february rolled around i was having a really tough time. i couldn’t enjoy being around anyone because all i could think about was the inevitability of their death. i’d get lunch with a friend and spend the entire time panicking because what if this was the last time i ever got to get lunch with them? i saw my cats and i immediately started sobbing because my first thought was “oh my god they’re going to die one day.” i had a tough time showering because i was convinced that i would slip in the shower and crack my skull and no one would ever know because i live alone. no matter what i was doing, i would find some way to imagine some sort of catastrophe occurring. i noticed that i was starting to develop compulsions- i would obsessively check my rear-view mirror when i was driving, i wouldn’t leave the house without pacing for awhile before i left. i was having a hard time completing tasks which then made my anxiety even worse. every upsetting thought i had felt enormous and scary and would send me spiraling. i couldn’t focus, my memory was getting really terrible.

and it was exhausting.

i’ve been putting off trying medication for years. when i was growing up, i remember this weird stigma about anti-depressants. the discourse surrounding them was always like “nah man, they make you a shell of a person. totally numb no emotions or personality anymore.” my parents just like…didn’t believe in mental health so i suffered endlessly in middle and high school because no one would take me to therapy or acknowledge that like hey, maybe my kid isn’t lazy, she’s just clinically depressed. when i was in college, i finally went to therapy for a little bit because it was free through the university. and that helped some, but i still wasn’t completely cured.

when i moved to new york, surprise, i was still depressed. one of my friends was constantly in my ear saying “hey buddy, you might really benefit from anti-depressants” and i finally realized “actually, i think you have a point, it’s probably worth a try” but every time i’d bring it up with nathan he was super opposed to it and would always just suggest i do something like “get out of bed before 4pm,” or “eat better.”

by the time we moved to philly i was hitting a breaking point. my anxiety was so bad that nathan hated being in the same room as me when i was freaking out because my vibes were just so wack. the problem was that i had no money, and no health insurance which really left me in a position where the only way i could get help was with nathan’s help- i brought it up kind of casually one day like “hey i really think i might benefit from therapy or medication” and he was like “actually, i think you’d benefit from getting a hobby”

and then a couple of days later i had a total nervous breakdown and i begged him to help me. i’ll never forget sobbing and saying “i don’t know if i need medication or therapy or both but all i can think about any more is killing myself and i can’t just hobby it away.” and he was finally like “ok, we’ll look into it this weekend” and the next day i woke up with such a sense of relief because i was finally going to get help and i actually had a super productive day. i got some work done, i got a library card and checked out some books. i ran errands, i cooked dinner, i read an entire book. i was actually present in my relationship. i was excited to get my life and myself back.

and then nathan literally died that night so y’know all of those plans were thwarted.

and then i spent two years in a fugue state and then i kinda got my shit together and then a pandemic happened and blah blah blah whatever.

and then we’re back at february 2021.

after realizing that i had become such an anxious wreck i finally started looking into options. and there she was, an app that allowed me to literally just text a doctor and be like “hey doc im feeling sad :(“ and they’d be like “oh cool, here’s a prescription for zoloft lmk how ur doing in a month xoxo” and for the low cost of 30 dollars a month i have serotonin for the first time in 13 years.

over the last couple of days i’ve been asked the question “what are you thinking about right now?” a few times and my answer is always the same- literally nothing. zoloft has my head so empty and it’s incredible. like, for once i’m not in my own head questioning every god damn thing i do.

the other day, one of my friends was like “it’s actually enjoyable to hang out with you now” which sounds rude, but makes a lot of sense tbh- sometimes i’m literally just not fun to be around. now i’m fun most of the time- except for the window of time where i realize “oh god i haven’t taken my zoloft yet today” and i start having withdrawal symptoms. but otherwise, i’m great!

it’s interesting feeling a sense of happiness that isn’t just a manic episode. like sometimes, i’m driving to work and i smile thinking about something one of my friends said earlier in the day. a big 180 from a few months ago when i couldn’t drive without my little beady eyes glued to the rear-view mirror. when i’m left alone with my thoughts for more than 10 minutes, they’re usually pretty decent thoughts, instead of the usual “everyone hates me and i am going to die alone."

i’ve also become a total boss babe- now that i’m not overthinking everything i’m actually able to do my job without an overwhelming sense of anxiety. i’ve always been capable and good at what i do, but for the first time i actually feel confident in my abilities.

with a combination of taurus season being very generous to me and a year of Pandemic Realizations i feel like i’m actually a cool, functional human again (for the first time, even?). i’ve spent a lot of time filtering myself, toning down aspects of my personality to appeal to whoever i’m around, turning up parts of my personality to get attention, etc- and now i’m just out here like “ok so anyway this is me- you get what you get, you don’t throw a fit”

surprisingly, people have been pretty receptive to that, it’s almost like i am a good person that is worthy of love and kindness or something.

i still haven’t gone to therapy, but i’ve been able to work through a lot of trauma on my own over the last couple of months. i’m finally at a point where i can acknowledge the things i’ve been repressing for a few years without feeling like everything is about to collapse. in time, i hope i’m able to get to a point where i can actually verbalize the feelings i’ve been having, and the things i’ve been (kylie jenner voice) realizing- but i’m not there quite yet. it’s been a weird experience not spiraling every time i feel a human emotion. now i’m able to acknowledge things and be like “ok is there anything i can do to resolve this right now? no? ok then i don’t need to fixate on it” and i can push it away until i need to acknowledge it again. i used to be paralyzed by any sort of inconvenience.

though, i will say, i’ve started doing this thing where i’ll be like “y’all mind if i share a genuine human emotion?” and then i’ll say something that i never would have dreamt of saying a year ago- generally something that insinuates that sometimes i do experience the human feeling of vulnerability.

every once and awhile i do still get hit with the wave of “why couldn’t i have been this functional when i was with nathan?” guilt. i think that ties into a lot of the grief i feel over all of the years i lost due to my depression- and even more specifically the months i lost due to my depression when i first moved to new york, and again when we moved to philly. when i first moved to new york, i didn’t really leave the apartment for 3 months. i slept most of the time. there were days long stretches where i was just completely emotionally unavailable. and much like in my adolescence when my parents refused to acknowledge that maybe i needed help, sometimes i feel angry that nathan also refused to acknowledge that maybe i needed help.

i spent a lot of time really agonizing over the fact that eventually i would be stable, and would eventually be a better partner to someone else than i was to nathan, and i think there’s still a part of that that exists in me- but i’ve found a little more peace with the concept. i’m thankful that nathan had the patience to deal with me when i was losing every last marble rattling around in my brain- but there’s always a part of me that’s like “damn, i wonder what our relationship would have been like if i’d been a little less unstable”

you can really tell that my mental health has improved just by the trajectory that my close friends instagram story has taken. it used to just be me drunk and crying every night at 4am and now it’s thirst traps and girl boss selfies.

there are still character flaws that are so deeply ingrained in me that i’m constantly having to be aware of and combat, but it’s a lot easier to do that when i don’t exist on pure anxious energy. everything i do is still very much informed by the deep-seated fear of rejection i have, but i’ve been trying very hard to start to break that down. it’s like an irrational fear. like ‘afraid to tell my friend i love them when i’m hanging up the phone because what if they actually just hate me?’ level. now my friends will literally call me back if i don’t say i love you before hanging up and be like “hey bitch i said i love you say it back” and now it’s becoming a little less terrifying.

my inability of showing vulnerability definitely stems from that fear of rejection. look, it’s scary to be like “hello this is a tough thought i’ve been having lately do you mind unpacking it with me?” i know that if i were to say that literally anyone in my circle would be like “yea let’s do it” but just the concept that the option of them being like “nah that’s a lot” keeps me from saying anything. there have been a couple times in the last few months where i’ve stepped out of my comfort zone to acknowledge and unpack some of those hard truths though, so congrats to me or whatever. i’ve even been hugging my friends more often (which is saying a lot coming from a woman that has never hugged her best friend, still to this day).

anyway, as soon as i start going to therapy it’s going to be over for these hoes because i’m gonna be hot and sane and probably unstoppable.

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familycourtcorruption · 4 years

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How To Deal With A Smear Campaign Without Losing Your Sanity

Being smeared by a narcissist can be traumatising.

It is devastating to have someone who you wanted to love and trust, think so poorly of you and make terrible accusations against you.

Matters are even worse when the narcissist’s lies have caused horrible fallout with those you love and care about, and you may even have had to defend yourself against authorities.

You could be completely forgiven for almost going insane.

In today’s Thriver TV episode, you will learn how to deal with the narcissist’s smear campaigns, so that you can survive them, emerge intact, and even take your power back to levels far beyond the ones you’ve experienced even before being smeared.

Video Transcript

Being smeared by a narcissist is beyond painful for many reasons. A narcissist’s opinion is always going to be skewered and cruel. When the cracks have appeared, or at the end of the relationship regardless of everything you have tried, given or sacrificed and suffered, none of it will prove to be good enough.

You will be demonised, pure and simple.

Is there anything more painful than somebody you loved turning on you and treating you like the enemy?

Maybe only that now, other people in your life such as family and friends, also believe that you are a monster.

How do you survive this? How do you retain your sanity? How do you not take on these brutal criticisms and smearing, as a possibility that you are the bad person you are being made out to be? How do you not feel intense shame and pain?

Today we can go through this, all of those questions plus more so that I can help you learn how to deal with the narcissist’s smear campaigns without losing your sanity. And, also so that you can regain your life and make it bigger and better than ever before.

But before we get started I’d like to thank each and every one of you who have subscribed to my channel for supporting the Thriver Mission, and I’d like to remind you that if you haven’t yet done so please do. And, if you enjoy this video, please make sure that you give it a thumbs up.

Okay so let’s start peeling this back and working out what is really going on.

Bringing Our Greatest Fears To Life

Today I want to bring to you, right from the get-go, a radical truth about narcissistic abuse that will change everything for you.

The narcissist at the deepest level of Quantum Truth is helping you to awaken, and to resurrect a necessary part of yourself.

Many of those who’ve been narcissistically abused, have for most, if not all of our life, suffered the susceptibility of worrying about what other people think about us.

First of all, that starts with the people who we want to love us. We are mortified, horrified and heartbroken if they think badly of us. The truth is we have invested more emotional energy into what these people think of us than what we think of ourselves.

We possibly never realised that we were seeking love and approval through these people’s actions and behaviours towards us. Of course, this was our normal because up until Thriver recovery, we may not have realised that to come home to feeling safe, loved and whole in our own body is the work that we must do between us and ourselves.

Narcissists smash us with the words, actions, and behaviours that create the feedback that we are unlovable, and not worth caring for. If we are not solid enough inside, knowing our own lovability, worth and value, then we believe them. We believe our identity and maybe our entire life depends on what this person does or doesn’t think about us.

So we fight to change their minds. We try to justify, explain, improve and earn our worth and lovability from them.

This is the perfect scenario for a narcissist because they keep us attached to them whilst gaining the release of their own inner torment onto us, as well as masses of narcissistic supply – attention that offers them the significance to know that they exist.

Being Unaffected By Smearing

It’s so important to know that there are people who have been connected with a narcissist, and yet don’t react when a narcissist starts discrediting them. The reason they don’t react is because they are solid on the inside; they know who they are. They know that they are lovable and worthy and valuable.

Even if they had hopes that this person could be loving or helpful in their life, they know that their own inner identity in no way depends on that being the case. Because this abusive person doesn’t match the relationship of self that they have within themselves, it’s easy for them to disconnect and walk away.

In short, they don’t agree with this person’s version of them and in no way need to change it either.

Here is the next thing I have seen with these people – when the narcissist tries to smear them and discredit them, the person doesn’t react and doesn’t try to disprove the narcissist’s accusations. If there is any legal necessity, they simply provide the information calmly, clearly and solidly without having any terror being ignited within them about being persecuted. This is when the narcissist’s attempts at destroying the person’s credibility, support systems or life, falls entirely to pieces.

Extremely quickly in fact.

Many of us were not initially able to be like this. Because this is not the case for people who have fractures in their inner identity, meaning that they don’t know their own worth and value. These are the people who react and get thrown into a terrible terror of what other people think.

This is exactly the person I used to be. I was incredible fuel for a narcissist’s smear campaign. I was horrified about what people might think of me, and terrified about people turning away from me or turning against me. I even had feelings in my body that were so extreme, that I felt that if people thought I was a bad person, I would be annihilated.

I promise you this, when we wake up to what’s really going on, we know that the solution will never be about trying to do anything ‘out there’ to change the fact that you are being smeared, because that’s not where the problem is.

The real problem is that the narcissist is feeding off your terrors of persecution, which are fanning the flames of the smear campaign that the narcissist is using against you, and the smear campaign is not going to stop until you eliminate the fuel.

The fuel is the fearful beliefs that you have been carrying inside of you as a part of the human trauma experience.

Persecution Programs

It’s a very rare individual who has been abused by a narcissist who isn’t carrying inner persecution programs. In fact, I’m not sure that I’ve ever met any of these people.

Persecution programs go like this, ‘if people don’t think I am a good person, and they think that I’ve done the wrong thing, then they will … leave me, exile me, hurt me, attack me, or even annihilate me.’

How do you know if you have persecution programs inside of you? The answer is simple, say those statements to yourself and listen to how your Inner Being responds. If you feel anxiety, shortening of breath, a dense feeling of dread, or even a white-hot terror, then you are carrying inner subconscious persecution programs.

This makes you a target for narcissists to mess with you. This means that they can project their disordered self and their behaviour all over you, turn the tables, and blame you for everything they do and keep you hooked into them while you are fighting for truth and sanity.

How do you get out of this terrorising, traumatising toxic web? There is only one way out – to turn inwards and find and release your persecution programs from within yourself.

When you do that you will be astounded at the results. The first thing you will discover is that you have less emotional charge on what the narcissist thinks about you, and even what others are saying about you.

Quite literally you won’t care.

And this is when you will anchor deeply into the true emancipation on this topic, which is ‘what other people think about me is none of my business. What I think about me is my business.’

You will see that the more you know who you are at a deep inner cellular knowing (which becomes completely organic without your effort when you release the trauma within you) that other people automatically follow. Those who don’t have the resources to agree with your version of Self, simply melt out of your experience, and the people who do will come back to you.

Like so many others, my persecution programs were horrific and I know that if I hadn’t done the inner Quantum work to completely eliminate them, I would still be in the living hell that I was stuck in with my persecution programs.

You see, even before the narcissist, I used to have the weird and awful experience of being accused of things that I would never even consider doing. It was just that, with the narcissist, it was brought to a level that was so severe that I had no idea how I was going to survive it. And I wouldn’t have survived it if I didn’t turn inwards and finally face the terrors that I had always carried inside of me.

The freedom from all of this is life changing and there is certainly no way that I could put myself out there on the world stage, in the way I do, if I was still carrying persecution programs.

Losing The Insanity and Gaining Your True Self

The thing about narcissistic abuse recovery is we think that by doing the inner work we are only going to lose the pain of the insanity and the torment that we’ve been suffering.

But Thriver recovery is so much more than that. What is really happening here is that we are losing our old self which isn’t effective in relation to who we want to be and what we really want to achieve.

After working through Thriver recovery you will experience moving into your new and True Self, who is the self you were always intended to be.

Can you imagine the freedom and power you will step into when you are no longer worried about what anybody thinks of you?

Can you imagine how it feels to be in your body walking this planet as your True Self?

Can you feel what it would be like to appear in front of anyone at all with nothing to prove or hide, simply being you, powerfully and freely?

These are only some of the powerhouse evolution graduations we receive by cleaning up all of our insecurities and the deep terrors that narcissists target and smash up to the surface for us. And I say ‘for us’ because until they reach critical mass we were able to continue on without having to address these inner traumas.

I know the inner work seems daunting, perhaps a waste of time and something that we would rather not do, however, if you want your life to be the life that you were born to live, there really isn’t a choice. The crazy thing is, once we start doing the inner work, the results are so incredible that it becomes addictive and extremely pleasurable to do.

If you are suffering smear campaigns, my heart goes out to you in spades, because I know exactly how traumatising this is. This is why I am so committed to reaching out to you so that you can find out how to quickly turn this all around, and take your life, your sanity and your future back in ways that will thrill and astound you.

Let me show you how to do this by clicking this link.

Also, if you want to see more of my episodes please make sure that you subscribe to my channel, so that you are notified every time I release a new video.

And, I am so excited because my Australian tour starts next week. There are still some limited tickets left. You can secure yours by clicking this link melanietoniaevans.com/oztour

And, as always, I’m looking forward to answering your comments and your questions below.

Read More –>

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funnythingshere0-blog · 6 years

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Doctors Predicted I Would Never Cure My Glaucoma & Cataract… But Contrary To Their Prediction, I Cured It ...

New Post has been published on https://funnythingshere.xyz/doctors-predicted-i-would-never-cure-my-glaucoma-cataract-but-contrary-to-their-prediction-i-cured-it/

Doctors Predicted I Would Never Cure My Glaucoma & Cataract… But Contrary To Their Prediction, I Cured It ...

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And Other Numerous Eye Problems.

“Before I continue, I want to be VERY honest with you…

Don’t read down this page unless you have quite a bit of money.

I’m serious. You see, you are going to want…really want…the scientific breakthrough described on this page…and…if you can’t afford it, you are probably going to be sick to your stomach.

On the other hand, if you are one who is somewhat financially secure…and…you would like to Reverse Glaucoma, Myopia, Cataract, …and other serious conditions, and at the same time restore your vision without expensive and harmful surgery…no matter what your age… then this is going to be the most exciting message you will ever read. Anyway, here is what I am writing to tell you…

The Big Drug Companies Are Cheating Everyone In Nigeria Who Is Trying To Regain Lost Sight! They do this in two different ways. First of all, they try to keep us from finding out about safe, cheap ways to Reverse Glaucoma, cataracts, myopia and other eyes problems… without… going for surgery.

The second way they cheat us is, they sell us millions and millions of naira’ worth of prescription Glasses/lens that are worthless. Not only that, many of these glasses are very dangerous, …and they create a sort of refractive errors to our cornea.

As you may or may not know, “Research Has Proven That Wearing Lenses And Contacts Will Destroy Your Vision Over Time…” I’m not just saying this to scare you. It’s a fact you need to know. Scientific journals have published multiple claims that wearing corrective minus lenses really does make your eyesight worse: Of course, Dr. Bates realized this over 90 years ago… when he quotes…

..“If glasses are worn continuously over time the poor vision will generally become worse. Essentially what glasses do is lock the eyes into their refractive state and in order to see through your lenses you have to maintain the poor vision that the lenses are designed to correct.” Wm H Bates: Perfect Sight Without Glasses 1920

Here is another quote from recent research… “The use of compensatory lenses (glasses and contacts) to treat or neutralize the symptoms does not correct the problem. The current education and training of eye care practitioners discourages preventive and remedial treatment.” Gottlieb, 1982. Journal of Optometry and Visual Development.

You see, my personal Optometrist (eye doctor) was so shocked that he had to apologize to me for telling me in the past that “I may have to wear my glasses all my life”

Well, I don’t blame him anyway, it was never his fault….

But before I tell you exactly how I got to surprise everyone with my results (which am about to reveal to you right here), let me tell you my sad story…

When I was 11years old I started having difficulty seeing what my teacher wrote on the blackboard in school. My mother took me for an eye exam and I was diagnosed as being nearsighted.

“You’re going to need glasses…” my optometrist said.

I was horrified by this news since I thought they would make me look ugly and that other kids would make fun of me.

My prescription then was (as you may guess) -0.5. My eyesight got steadily worse and I required higher prescription almost every year. My glasses kept getting thicker (as thick as the bottom of the old coca-cola bottle). And over time I also developed astigmatism. My eyesight was deteriorating, and so was my self-esteem. I thought I would be chained to glasses for life.  I still remembered the dreadful day when my school optometrist passed the verdict that I am nearsighted and would need to wear glasses for my life.  You see, I was an introvert and overweight kid.  Wearing those ugly goldfish bowl type glasses wasn’t helping my limited self-esteem.  Nicknames such as four-eyed frog began to surface in my little world.  Inevitably, my eyesight worsened over the years. From 20/100, it proceeded to 20/400…  I felt like a helpless cripple whenever I was without my glasses. The world appeared in a fuzzy blur and looked pretty intimidating. I didn’t know it at the time, but wearing glasses did nothing to improve my natural vision. They were a crutch – an artificial fix.

And worse, they actually made my vision deteriorate even more because the lens power actually increased the near point stress I put my eyes under.

As of May 2011, I had a visual prescription of 20/400 on my left and 20/250 on my right eye.  This means that my left eye can only see things at 20 feet where else eyesight-healthy people can see at 400 feet.  In short, I won’t be able to see your face clearly even if you are just 20 feet right in front of me.

It was increasingly difficult to navigate my life. Where a normal person would see two headlights coming from a car at night, I would see perhaps eighteen. I couldn’t read my computer with my nose against the scree.

I couldn’t recognize my youngest son’s face from across a small room. Couldn’t read a book, couldn’t watch a movie and couldn’t even see my phone Querty keyboard unless I put my spectacles on. For much of last year I’ve been traveling with a seeing-eye (my junior brother). He’s been helping me cross streets like an old woman, and making sure I use the men’s room instead of the ladies. My eyesight problem was that terrible! . . .

“How My Poor Eye Sight Made Me Lose My Naval Pilot Job”

I never would have imagined that my bad eye-sight would ruined my career. It all started over 11 years ago as I try to fulfill my dream of becoming a Navy fighter pilot. I did everything I could to prepare myself to become a Naval pilot. I played sports, was involved in student council, and volunteered in extra-curricular activities whenever i could. I went to college, got good grades, and stayed in shape. I even got my pilot’s license. But there was one huge roadblock I could never overcome:perfect eyesight. At the time, the Navy required their pilot candidates to have perfect 20/20 vision in order to qualify – and I wasn’t even close.

You can imagine how heartbroken I was.

At the time I did not know that my eyesight could be improved naturally. I thought that my only options were to wear glasses and contact lenses for the rest of my life, or to go for an eye surgery. So, I started looking into LASIK. I knew many individuals who were very pleased with their eyesight following a laser eye surgery so I decided to take my chances despite the many potential risks associated with surgery.

In early 2012 I went to a reputable clinic to undergo LASIK. Regrettably, my surgery did not provide me with the results I hoped for. At first my vision did seem clear, but within 3 months after surgery I found myself squinting a lot. I went to get my eyes checked and was saddened to find out that I yet again had a prescription of -0.5 as well as Glaucoma and cataract combined.

Unfortunately, I also developed side effects of glare around bright lights (night driving became difficult) as well as eye dryness for which I had to use eye drops every day. My doctors offered to do another surgery but I refused not wishing to cause any more harm to my eyes. I also did not wish to wear glasses since I knew they would likely cause my vision to steadily get worse.

“Your eyes need,” said my doctor, “Immediate surgery.” And I can’t guarantee if it will become successful. My heart raced. I leaned forward and turned my head to see him with my good eye. “Tell me more,” I said softly. My doctor told me that a hospital in Canada was recruiting patients for a study of acute optic neuritis and that I might qualify. I had to decide quickly. I knew that any kind of treatment had to start within five to seven days of the onset of vision loss. Twenty-four hours had already elapsed. One internal voice battled with another:  ”Don’t be stupid and try something that is never going to work. You will be disappointed like so many others that have been diagnosed with your problem.”  But another, louder, voice asked, “What is the harm in trying?”  With great anticipation and anxiety, I finally said, “Yes, I want to be considered.” Immediately, He drove me to his study center. Signed some medical documents and handed them over to me. Take it with you, he said …and give it to whosoever that will be in charge of your second surgery in abroad.

While undergoing the trauma of losing and gaining sight, I felt overcome by desperation, …and to secure my job, I was pushed to seek solution beyond the shores of Nigeria.

It was an emergency and i couldn’t get to gather enough money for the surgery. So, I obtained a loan from a micro finance bank so as to get my eyes (especially the left eye) operated abroad.

Two days later, after some serious heartfelt prayers by my love ones and well-wishers (…my parents, wife, two kids and my younger brother) escorted me down to the airport. (my mum is a dedicated prayer warrior, though). At the airport, she insisted we say yet another prayer before I took off. We hold our hands together in that open space and not minding what others might think of us. After the prayer, I hugged each and every one of them.

As I was leaving, I turned to look if they were gone, but they were still there waving in tears. I couldn’t help it… I began to sob uncontrollably, looked at my newly wedded dear wife, then I ran back and hugged her so tightly and whisper into her ears that I’m so sorry for the pains I’ve caused her in our early relationship life.

To cut the long story sort of short, there in Canada, by 2:00 pm of the next day, I had entered the hospital as a patient. That morning was like no other ordinary November morning.

I met with Dr. Patterson, possibly the best eye surgeon in Canada. As he conducted a test in my eyes, he looked up from his instrument and said…

“Mr. Ken, I’m Afraid, It’s Official. You Are Legally Blind!”  

His words were no surprise. My vision had been troublesome all my life and, during the last year, had gotten exponentially worse. One eye was nearsighted, one eye was Glaucoma, both had astigmatism, both were scarred from sloppy radial tracheotomy surgery and both eyes had cataracts obstructing my vision.

…You have acute optic neuritis,” my doctor said, “and I don’t know if you’ll get your vision back.” Those words fell heavily on my spirits. They were not comforting, nor were they reassuring. Until that moment, I had allowed myself to believe it was a diagnosis I could perhaps triumph over. Dr Patterson’s words, however, left me with little hope. I knew that 50% of the time, my good eye would also lose sight. Thoughts and images raced through my mind. I parsed each of my doctor’s words carefully, hoping for some hidden message of hope or uncertainty. But never were my spirits so low. As he spoke, I wondered how I would be able to perform daily life activities, such as reading, telling time, or preparing meals, without sight. And all the while, I thought about telling as few people as possible. I imagined that they would not know how to behave around someone who had lost his sight. I went in for the eye surgery and came out successfully. I felt relieved.  

I got back to work and everything was fine. I thought the eye-operation was the end of it, not until 8 months later; I started having this dry eye and constant itching of the eye. I went back to my eye doctor. He gave me an eye drop with other frivolous prescriptions.  I was so sad to have gone back to the eye-drop I thought I won’t use any longer. And by then, I was still paying off the loan I’d collected from micro-finance bank. worst of all, I was demoted at work to…ensign position, and was transferred to apapa lagos to start working ashore.

Sadly, my dream of becoming a Naval pilot seemed impossible since the prerequisite is to have perfect eyesight.

However, though, my final hope was in GOD. but I thought I didn’t deserve his mercy because I turn to him only when I needed help or when all doors are closed. I felt ashamed to even utter a word of prayer, but I still have to… anyways. …It occurs to me I would never be able to repair my eyes – no matter what i do, because I have already done everything humanly possible (met with the best doctors, did eye surgery twice, bought the most expensive prescribed drugs and what have you…) but no avail.

  So, I gave up… And I carried on with my life… It had happened many times before, but somehow this time it seemed like the last straw. I did know where to turn or what else to try. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want this to sound like a sob story. I’m not telling you all this because I want you to feel sorry for me. There’s no need for that anyway. My story has a very happy ending. My story has a happy ending because the very next couple month I made a discovery that has changed my entire life. I found an amazingly way to regained my lost sight that I never dreamed existed.

When I least expected it, God sent me a Solution through Mr. Ernust Wolfgang

I will forever stay loyal and grateful to Mr. Ernust Wolfgang, a German expert at my work place, apapa, Lagos.

He was also a four eyed man in the past surffering from glaucoma and had his wife struggling with Macular degeneration.

He Overheard me complaining of my terrible eye situation to another colleague and decided to ask what I have done to improve it.

I was blunt with him, telling him my situation had no cure and that I had tried everything possible to no avail.

He laughed, quickly opened his briefcase to show me an old test card showing he had struggled with bad eye vision for over 10 years.

“But where is your glasses sir?” I asked curiously.

He simply smiled and told me to meet him at his office later that day.

…It was an appointment that changed my life forever.

The Secret Magic herbal combinations that has helped over 8500 people restore better eyesight till date!

At this point, I couldn’t wait anylonger, I was curious to know exactly what it took Mr. Wolfgang to finally do away with his glasses and see freely again.

I was so hungry for what he had to tell me that I was checking on him every 15 minutes to see if he was free, as he was a senior staff.

Then at about 3.00pm, he sent for me!

I was nervous as he sat me down, and started revealing hard known secret of improving you bad eyes Naturally using plant extract combinations.

Here is a picture of one of the Plants he revealed to me which has been used for years in Asia to treat and manage tough eyesight problems.

A White Chrysanthemum flower.

In Chinese medicine, it is one secretly used herbs in the treatment of eye disorders.

Chrysanthemum extract has been used in Chinese medicine for more than a thousand years and it is said to also prevent aging. According to Herbs 2000, chrysanthemums have a long history of being used to treat blurred vision, glaucoma, AMD, spotty vision and watering eyes.

It also contains beta-carotene (Lutein & Zeaxanthin, mainly in the yellow part of the flower) has been discovered to treat eye diseases such as cataract, glaucoma, macular degeneration and many more… The German expert smiled at me after explaining.

He then showed another Picture this time it was the bilberry plant.

There is a story that the legends carried during the Second world war, that German Pilots had a meal with Bilberry plant before bombing their enemies in high accuracy. It was believed their night vision heightened after eating the inky blue fruit.

Since then, this fruit has been experimented on and used for various vision treatments.

Aside from improving night vision, bilberry extract when combined with Chrysanthemum extract and other secret herbal extracts such as Beta Carotene (Known as the Retina’s Food), selenium and Lecithin has been found to treat any type of eye problem starting from Age-related Macular Degeneration, Glaucoma, cataract, Short and Long Sightedness, Eyestrain, Astigmatism amongst others.

I was thrilled by the discoveries but still confused on where exactly to start.

Mr. Wolfgang asked me to return the next day and get a free gift from him.

That gift has been my best gift from anyone till date. I was handed over 3 bottles of a specially made herbal capsule containing all these herbal extracts and was instructed on how to use it.

I followed it religiously for three weeks straight and my joy knew no bounds.

By the seventh week, I could see comfortable without my glasses and didn’t have to worry about carrying it or not.

Because my situation was a bit severe, it took me over 9 weeks to finally feel the full effect of my treatment.

Even after I met my savior in the person of Mr. Ernurst Wolfgang, just 3 Weeks into my treatment, something terrible happened. Mr. Wolfgang was transferred for an emergency service in South Africa, and no one saw it coming.

To me, I was weeping internally because, I didn’t know how I would get more bottles and complete my treatment when the first three gift I got finished.

But Mr. Wolfgang is the best man I have met till date, he gave me a number of someone I could buy these products abroad and even get it into Nigeria. Though it was a bit costly, I didn’t mind because I was seeing results I didn’t see in years of visiting my optometrist.

To further authenticate the effectiveness of this solution, I went to my eye doctor — who wears Spectacle himself. And he confirmed my eye is 100% better than before. He couldn’t believe that I improved my eyesight naturally.

My Doctor had to even get the same remedy from me for himself. . . which he used to get rid of his spectacle. And he apologized for ever doubting herbal solutions for my eye problems.  I have since gone on to ‘cure’ both my parents and my brother of their short sightedness. And to make sure I keep spreading this miracle solution I was handed over by Mr. Wolfgang, I decided to take the campaign online and spread the message that “Nature actually heals”

NO MORE WEARING OF SPECTACLE NO NEED OF USING ANY EYE DROPS GLAUCOMA WAS GONE FOR GOOD CATARACT DISAPPERAED within 60days.

You see, I thought of how to help others suffering with these eye problems; So, i decided to Contact the company to buy more so I can send to people with whatever eye problem. That’s when I created this page to help others.

And that is why I recently imported 150 bottles each of this magic solution.

Initially, the company wanted to sell two bottles to me for $179 (approximately 57,280 naira); I pleaded with them that since the recommended treatment needed is 2 bottles that they should please make it affordable… especially as I’m buying in bulk quantity… After long negotiation, they agreed to knock off $39 since I told them that I wasn’t really interested in making profit off it because I was once a sufferer of Glaucoma and Cataract, combined. . .that, I deeply understand the pains people are going through. Plus, I told the company that I won’t even charge for delivery regardless of their location in Nigeria.

So, after they took time to evaluate my sincerity, they finally accepted. Therefore, I was able to buy only 150 bottles. Although, I had placed order for 300 bottles, but they refused and told me that the products are limited due to high demands. Hence, I shipped in JUST 150 bottles at the rate of NGN 43,800 (for the complete treatment pack of 2 bottles). And I spent $98 (i.e NGN 31,360) to ship them to Ikeja, Lagos.

Behold, The Solution I’m Talking About is Called…

“Vision Vitale Capsules

…And “Mebo GI”

“Vision Vitale And Mebo GI” is a Natural and Herbal supplement combination for treating any type of eye problems. These Product are manufactured through Modern Biotechnology under the guidance of Herbal Medicinal experts and made from the best hidden herbal ingredients Including White Chrysanthemum, Cassia Seed, Bilberry extract, Lutein and Zeaxanthin etc. which has been scientifically proven to treat/Manage Age-related Macular Degeneration, Glaucoma, cataract, Short and Long Sightedness, Eyestrain, Astigmatism amongst others

With the combination of Vision Vitale and Mebo GI Capsule, not only do you get all the vitamins, minerals, and herbal supplements that your eyes need, but you also get…

The Highest Quality Sources of These Nutrients so that Your Body Can Process and Use Them to Nourish and Protect Your Visual System Effectively.

Vision Vitale and Mebo GI Capsule complies with all FDA rules and regulations. It’s manufactured in china and administered for the United States FDA approval under strict C.G.M.P. certification (Current Good Manufacturing Practices), Plus, Vision Vitale Capsule is approved by NAFDAC! …So you can be confident it’s a safe and healthy supplement.

Here’s the actual label from the Vision Vitale Capsule showing you exactly what nutrients it contains:

My vision is crisper and sharper. My eyes don’t become as tired and they feel better lubricated throughout the day. Best of all, I know I did all I could to support healthy, clear eyesight for the rest of my life. And I’m not the only one. I’ve received story after story from thrilled customers who have seen great results from the Vision Vitale and GI Capsule. …listen to what a few of them have to say…

Testimony 1: Hello, I have started using the Vision Capsules product around a month ago and went to do an eye test just this morning. My optician really couldn’t believe it! He was so surprised with my improvement that he said that he never saw anything like it. (Not without surgery at least!) I gave him your website address and he said that he is going to check it out and try it himself. Thank you for making this available to us!”

Mr. Donatus Enugu

Testimony 2: Hi, would it be fine if we published this breakthrough on our website? We have still got so many skeptics and options telling me that it’s not possible to improve one’s vision, but hey, who cares, because my parents, wife and I have been using this product successfully and this proves that your Vision Capsules product actually works! We will get there, as more and more people are improving their vision and talking about it. Thank you.

Uba Wisdom Oweri

Hi! I want to give a personal testimonial and highly recommend your Vision Capsules product for anyone that wants to improve their vision. I have been suffering from short-slightness since a very young age. I was considering laser surgery but it’s expensive and dangerous. Fortunately, after giving a try to this modest product, my vision improved to a degree that I hardly need to wear Spectacle anymore.

Ifeoma Abia State

Testimony 3: I thought I would live the rest of my life with Spectacle. My experience since I started taking your Vision Capsules product. I took the product at first because it was the fastest way for me to live without Spectacle. After 2 months of using Vision Capsules and my eyes felt renewed in just a few months – as if they were reborn.

Henry Festac, Lagos State

Ever since I started using your vision product (Vision Capsules), my vision has literally improved over night. I used to wear spectacles all the time but now I’m already getting used to live without them. It’s difficult to explain but I feel like I am 10 years younger. Thanks for the product. I am totally impressed and satisfied.

George Abuja

..But these are not the only testimonials. I don’t have enough room to post all of the success stories. But those are few quick ones I wanted to single-out and congratulate.

Here’s what This Vision And GI Capsules Can Do To Help You:

Improve and perfect your eyesight so that you don’t need your “readers” nearby every single time you need to read the newspaper, a report, a book, or a document.

Strengthen your eyes and focal muscles, eliminating the painful burning sensation in your eyes at the end of every single day.

Use a computer or watch TV anytime, anywhere as long as you want, without pain.

Improve ALL aspects of your vision. Whether you’re nearsighted or farsighted, the condition can be cured! See road signs from far away, watch a movie, play catch or read a book with just a lamp on, without stressing about carrying your Spectacle around everywhere!

Start your day comfortably, without worrying about taking half an hour to pop your eye drop or find your Spectacle.

Save THOUSANDS and THOUSANDS of Naira. I can’t stress enough how expensive Spectacle and eye drops are getting nowadays, and the prices just keep INCREASING. If you spend NGN20,000 – NGN100,000 a year on Spectacle and eye drops, imagine how much money you’d have to spend on things like vacations and luxuries over the 40-50 years you have to KEEP buying them!

It’s like picking up a brand new set of eye balls!

Is There A Guarantee?

 Funny you should ask. 

Unequivocally, UNCONDITIONALLY, absolutely… YES! 

I want to accept your investment only if you are satisfied with it. 

So, Here’s Why You Should Give It A Try

.Of course, when you start USING “Vitale Vision Capsules” and AFTER 60 DAYS you can’t see any significant RESULTS, Notify ME via 07080101674 and I will refund 100% of your money to your bank account. And you can keep the product.

That’s right… I’m so confident that this product will deliver as promised that I’m willing to let you try it for 60days.

So please, stop wasting money on expensive Spectacle and eye drops, or contemplating dangerous eye surgery, and grab VISION Vitale Capsules without ANY risk whatsoever. If you’re not 100% satisfied after 60 days, give me a call or send me an SMS and let me know. I’ll send you a refund every single penny you’ve spent. There’s no obligation for you to continue if it wasn’t right for you. And you can keep the bottles as my thanks for trying it. …No If’s, No Buts, And no questions asked! I’m a man of my word…  

This magical pill Works PERFECTLY for men, women… And Children, too. It contains 60 tablets per bottle.

Here is The Cost of the Vision Vitale… And Mebo GI Capsule. 

1 Month Treatment: (One Bottle Of Vision Vitale + One Bottle Of GI Capsule) = NGN 47,997  (You save NGN2,000)

2 Months Treatment: (2 Bottles Each) = NGN 89,997 (RECOMMENDED)  (You save NGN10,000)

NOTE: The Most Recommended Treatment Is the 2 Bottles ( 2 Month Treatment), You’ll Get Your Desired Result with That…and you won’t have to keep spending money on this again. 2 months treatment is the BEST! For a severe eye Glaucoma problems like mine, and someone that has done (or considering) eye surgery …yet still experience eye pains and other complications… The recommended treatment for that is the 2 months package + extra GI (Gastrointestinal) capsule for a total cure. The GI capsules helps to Rejuvenate/regenerate the damaged cells in your eyes lens and cornea! Plus, If you are suffering from other ailments such as Ulcer, Cancer, Diabetes, Bp etc… Then, GI capsule is a tested and proven combination whilst taking vision capsule. I know a lot of persons reading this page now will be harbouring some doubts about this claims . . .but that’s okay – I’m used to people being suspicious at first. But the truth is… you must experience it yourself to believe. I wouldn’t be daring it if am not sure of the result you’ll get by taking 2 months treatments”

I wouldn’t take such risk if I hadn’t used this products myself and it did wonders for me. Therefore, because I am not what people call “EYE DOCTOR” So, I think I should extend the guarantee to you. So, I repeat; “Order for 2 months treatment, (and if possible with the extra GI capsules) …use it for 60 days, and if it doesn’t deliver as promised… Call me on phone or send a text message and ask for your money back” No quibbles, no face tightening. You get back every kobo you paid. And I will also call you and apologize for wasting your time.

You can’t lose by acting, not when my guarantee is involved. But you can sit and wait for “change” …or you can take charge and make what could be one of the best decisions in your life. I understand the cost can be an issue, but what’s all this worth to your eye-sight? …By the way, consider this: If we are to calculate the normal cost of the 2 months treatment, You’re to pay just NGN89,999. That’s not a big money for those who know what it means to have been going through this. I can recall i spent NGN362,000 on a product that didn’t give me desired result …not to mention the two eye surgery i did. And, If you were to operate the eye, this will cost you much more than NGN89,999 Isn’t it? …Of course, doctors will not offer you a total SOLUTION i’m offering you. A doctor will tell you to live with the condition. There are many options for you to choose. It’s really up to you.

DOSAGE …take one tablet of vision vitale in the morning – 1hr before breakfast, and… one tablet at night, 1hr after dinner.

As for the Mebo GI, chew 2 pill in the morning and 2 at night…

Here Is How To Place an Order and receive it while you make payment upon delivery…

You see my friend, I’m a Nigerian and I know you may be wondering if you will pay first before you get this product. NO! You don’t have to pay first, once you place your order… I will send the item to your state and once it gets to your state… I will ask my delivery agent to pick it up and bring it to your provided address at no extra cost. So, once the delivery agent brings it to you. You would collect the item and give the money to him/her. This could take 1– 3days depending on your location.

You stay in your home/office and order then we deliver it to you. You don’t send money first; you pay when the item has been brought to you face to face.

‘ NOTE: Please, Do Not Place an Order if you are not ready to pay and receive Your Product within the Next 24 – 72 hours

How To Get The Vision Vitale And Mebo GI…

There are 2 options to place your order…

USE only one option please so I don’t get to receive multiple orders. If you have any question or Clarification before you order, call me with the below Phone Numbers:

08032579763 OR 08172945241

Otherwise, If You’re Okay with every words on this page, You can go ahead and place your order.

Don’t Forget, even after placing your order, you can still call me in case you have any question or you need clarification on anything.

Option one

Send SMS/Text with the below details

to 08032579763 Or 08172945241. – Your Full Name, 

– Your Full address + LGA/State, 

– Your Phone Number (Provide 2 Numbers If available), 

– Specify the number of bottle(s) you are ordering + Product Name.

EXAMPLE OF THE SMS;  

Officer Ken. I. E

No.5 Jubril Matins, Surulere, Lagos,

08032579763, 08172945241 

2 bottles of Vision Vitale + 2 bottles of GI Capsule

OPTION TWO Click the link below to fill the form…

Once you place order via any of the above option, I will waybill it to your state. And once it gets to your state. our delivery agent will pick it up and call you to deliver.

When the delivery agent gets to you. You collect the product and give the money to him/her.

I can’t accurately predict when the company would release to me another sets of bottles to bring to nigeria. – it simply depends if it will be available …as the demands is VERY high.

…When supplies runs out, this promotion will end! I’m not kidding, this offer is very temporary.  

So, when this limited pcs is ordered, this page will be pull down.   

20-20 perfect vision is within your reach, no matter how young or old you are. As long as you have some sight, Vision Vitale + GI Capsules will help you see again. Guaranteed, or you get back every penny of your purchase! To Your Success,

Officer Ken. I. E, Former Glaucoma Victim, P.S. Because of the great customer demand, you may have to call two or three times before  getting through on the phone. Don’t stop trying… it’s more than worth it. P.P.S. I expect that the price, after this “OFFER PERIOD” will be significantly higher.

ATTENTION!!!

…It has come to our notice that people are using (my sad story) the contents in this webpage to defraud the desperate and REAP them OFF …of their hard earned money by selling to them Pills which look similar to ours.  What they do is this, they copy the content on this website verbatim, or they tweak the story to look a little bit different. Some claim to be in direct partnership with us as our distributors. These acts has been going on for months unbeknownst to us.  We now know this because some few persons who called me on phone to give testimonies as some has done in the past …said that they’d in the past bought fake Vision Capsule which was advertised by one Mr. (NAME WITHELD) …that the product sold by this person has similar container with ours… but contained different contents with zero-effects.  They told me why they bought it; that their price was way cheaper than ours. Hence, they ordered.  I wish to let you know that this content is license under the federal law of Nigeria, and we don’t compromise plagiarism of any sort.    Recently, we’ve hunted the said Mr. (NAME WITHELD) who uses my personal (predicament) story to extort money from some desperate patients. And the wrath of the law has befall on him.  Attached screenshot was the first bold step taken by my attorney to sew the defrauder. And he’s currently facing charges. 

  Personally, I’ve chosen not to mention names here for diminishing and confidentiality reasons.  But look, this isn’t a situation we’ve taken lightly. The information and details provided on this publication is strictly as personal related as described. No part of this publication is allowed to be featured outside this context for whatsoever reason without a prior permission of the thread owner.   Please be very conscious of this notification and swiftly report any person posing to partner or represent us.   Regards,

Source: https://www.vanguardngr.com/2018/09/doctors-predicted-i-would-never-cure-my-glaucoma-cataract-but-contrary-to-their-prediction-i-cured-it-permanently-and-naturally-in-just-2-months-ill-show-you-how/

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healthandfitnessrecipes-blog · 6 years

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Running away from yourself

https://healthandfitnessrecipes.com/?p=6951

The benefits of regular exercise for improving mood are widely accepted. Exercise releases feel-good brain chemicals that may help to combat depression and, according to the Mayo Clinic, can make a big difference to mood and wellbeing. Researchers claim there is a “compelling” body of evidence around exercise boosting mood. A 2006 review of 11 studies investigating the effects of exercise on mental health found it to be a strong intervention for depression, and the charity Mind recommends regular cardiovascular exercise, such as running, as effective for treating mild to moderate depression.

I’ve always used exercise to help manage stressful life events. In the past 20 years, running has helped me cope with break-ups and family stress. I turned to running one again last summer when I suffered a tremendous loss. When my mother died, I decided to sign up for a half-marathon.

I believed the focus of a fitness goal would help me deal with my grief. It didn’t entirely work out that way. I enjoyed the training and it certainly boosted my mood, but my energy levels were poor and, on race day, I really struggled, despite completing all the training. I underestimated the amount of physical fatigue that grief can bring. On race day, I simply didn’t have enough fuel in the tank. Not that my performance mattered. There will always be other half-marathons.

But it did make me wonder if I’d fully dealt with my grief. I hadn’t been overly emotional about losing my mum, despite being very close to her and caring for her for almost a decade. Which begged the question, had I fully dealt with my grief or just buried my emotions while overdoing my training? At what point is it better to confront your emotions and deal with trauma head on, rather than trying to distract yourself entirely through running?

Experts gladly acknowledge the mental benefits of exercise but admit there is a balance to be found and it shouldn’t be used to suppress emotions. “Exercise, such as running, is a great way of helping us to keep our emotions regulated and balanced and produces natural endorphins within the body that help improve mood,” says Dr Nick Mooney, a clinical psychologist for brain health experts Re:Cognition Health (recognitionhealth.com). “Regular exercise can therefore be very helpful in helping us to get through difficult and traumatic periods of our lives. However, like any activity, there is always the possibility that we can choose to exercise as a means of avoiding unpleasant emotions. This might prevent the natural and painful processing of these emotions. You might also inadvertently learn that the only way of coping with stress is to exercise.”

Spotting the signs Recognising the signs that we may need help or support alongside regular exercise is crucial. “A person might like to seek professional support to manage difficult emotions if the coping mechanism – i.e. exercise – is causing them to behave in a manner that is at odds with how they would like to be,” says Mooney. “For example, a person may choose to avoid socialising or seeing family members in favour of exercising if this means they can avoid uncomfortable conversations.”

When it comes to dealing with bereavement or a break-up, we are conditioned to work through the five stages of grief. Skipping them can cause problems. The five stages of grief are denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance (see box). “Every single human being is designed to acknowledge a loss in the five stages of grief,” says Christophe Sauerwein, a psychologist and spokesperson for the iCAAD, the International Conference on Addiction and Associated Disorders (icaadevents.com). “We believe sadness to be bad sometimes but, actually, we need to become sad about something we have lost to realise we have lost it. Doing a bit of exercise will help to smooth down the process of expressing our emotions and will channel them out, but running could inform a process of denial that’s not healthy.

However, Sauerwein points out that running may play a role in the second stage of grief – anger. “Running or doing exercise is a good way to channel out the anger, so there’s something healthy there,” he adds. “Moderate exercise helps because it’s about getting you out of a state of numbness.”

If this state of numbness stems from clinical depression, though, it is a completely different story and must be handled with care. Using exercise to feel a bit better and not dealing with our problems is an extremely fine balance. “Are you running away from something when you run?” asks Sauerwein. “What are you running from? Your thoughts, obsessions, inability to accept the situation? This is when it becomes a toxic process.”

It’s important to stress that the five stages of grief apply to divorce and relationship break-ups, as well as bereavements. “Divorce is a loss,” says Sauerwein. “We lose a relationship and what makes that difficult is the ex-wife/husband or partner still exists. The loss and grief is about the loss of the relationship and the fact that the other person is still here, running his or her own life.”

Confronting emotions Whatever the reason, grief is not to be underestimated, even if you think you are feeling OK. “Any type of loss creates grief and, in my experience, grief is the most painful emotion that a human can experience,” says psychotherapist Anna Pinkerton, author of the book Smile Again: Your Recovery From Burnout, Breakdown and Overwhelming Stress (annapinkerton.com). “Runners may avoid grief by doing more running or taking it up for the first time. Grief is so disabling and overwhelming but it needs to be worked through.”

So what are the signs that might suggest we aren’t working through our grief properly? “If you know a person who was bereaved or has lost a partner and you know they haven’t cried but they are still managing to run every day, it could be a simple equation like that,” says Pinkerton. “Lots of people can deal with physical agony caused by extending beyond their physical limits, like in extreme sports. They can feel that pain because that’s more approachable for them than to feel the utter devastation of grief.”

To find the balance between using exercise to make us feel better and working properly through our emotions, we need to accept our feelings. “We were all born to have the full range of feelings so no feelings should be out of bounds,” says Pinkerton. “Envy, jealousy, happiness, anger… we should experience them in order to create an inner balance. We are out of balance if we say: ‘I’m never going to experience grief. I will carry on regardless and fill my life with activity and not have feelings’.”

Another sign you could be running too much and not confronting your emotions is if you are not enjoying it. I didn’t enjoy that half-marathon. I knew I had pushed myself too far. “Are you doing it because you need it as a drug?” asks Pinkerton. “If your enjoyment has gone, that’s an early sign you’re not dealing with things.”

Pinkerton also believes that we can never truly escape from grief. “It’s normal to want to avoid pain but the sooner you can get on with grieving, the better, because otherwise the body will store it,” she says. “It’s very, very hard to have an emotional injury. It requires our time and attention. I work with sports people and people very high up in companies. They keep denying self-care and, unfortunately, something else will happen to make them be aware of it. That’s where breakdown and burnout comes in. Bereavement is the most horrendous experience. Listen to what you need. It’s OK to have what you need. Be prepared to be fully human. We think envy and jealousy are terrible. We think we’re supposed to be happy all the time. Feelings are transient and you move through them. Feelings aren’t meant to last.”

Counselling may be the answer, alongside regular exercise. “Alongside the exercise and good, healthy habits in moderation, counselling combines pretty well,” says Sauerwein. “We also know that any loss is helped by socialising. Running can be a lonely, isolated activity. The most important thing to be aware of is that, if you exercise excessively on unprocessed feelings, the feelings are going to be repressed but will come out some day. It’s like putting a lid on a volcano. It all seems OK, then, one day, there is an eruption.”

The five stages of grief explained Denial initially helps us overcome our loss. We are still in a state of shock and this helps us to pace our feelings of grief. Anger is a necessary part of the healing process. You might be angry that a loved one died or a relationship ended. Bargaining means you would do anything to hold onto that person. You’d never be angry at them if God would let them live. Depression is when you feel empty; this is natural. It would be unusual not to feel depressed after losing a loved one. Acceptance doesn’t mean your loss is OK. It’s about accepting the reality of the situation and starting to live again.

Emotions and physical health Experts believe that shutting out our emotions and not dealing with them can be detrimental to our physical health in the long run. “When we continually try to avoid dealing with uncomfortable emotions, we tend to make them worse,” says Dr Nick Mooney. “Not only can avoidance be physically and mentally exhausting, it can also take us away from engaging in activities that bring us true pleasure, like socialising. As a result, there is a greater risk of these normal painful feelings growing into something more serious, such as an anxiety disorder or clinical depression.”

Too much exercise and avoiding emotions can also cause other issues. “Regular physical exercise, motivated by an avoidance of emotional distress, can also be associated with eating disorders,” says Mooney. “There is also a greater risk of developing injuries that may not be resolved properly. Exercise is a great way of improving mood but other ways include maintaining a healthy, balanced diet; regularly socialising with others; engaging in hobbies and meaningful activities, like giving back to others; good sleep; and getting plenty of sunlight.”

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