#and this was literally all it took for me to start exercising. which ive been struggling with for years

[natsmagi]

be sure to do your daily training if you can !!! 💪💪💪

#the timing of this app dropping is actually so funny bc #im in the process of meeting a dietician and physician to help w my physical health and chronic fatigue #and this was literally all it took for me to start exercising. which ive been struggling with for years #cant wait to break this to my doctors #femstars #genderbend #sora harukawa #tsumugi aoba #natsume sakasaki #switch #enstars #ensemble stars #my art

[okidenshi]

Saw your tags on the chronic condition post and I feel that so hard. I've been sick for the past month and haven't been able to eat much as a result. I've been able to do maybe 10 hours of work over 4 weeks and have only had a few days where I can sit and play video games for more than 30 minutes at a time because I've been nauseous and in pain every time I eat. I'm having an endoscopy done tomorrow and I hope they'll be able to figure out what's going on because lord knows the ER didn't do shit (to the point that the GI doc I went to was FURIOUS with how little they did. I literally got put in a corner of a room, alone, with a screen in front of me and the nurses forgot I was there (which wasn't even the worst part of it).) I have two more dr appointments this month after the procedure and I'm hoping that, between the three, they'll figure something out because I'm so bored and tired and sick of not being able to take care of myself (Plus I miss exercising :( ). Glad to hear you're feeling better!!!!! It also gives me hope that I'll wake up one day and not feel like garbage lol

Aw man i'm sorry you're going through all that anon :(( I've been/am in a similar boat of course, especially w/ GI stuff.

(lol ok i went on for a bit so read more it is)

GI isn't my main problem area currently (pelvic floor my detested), but since childhood my tum was/was been the BANE of my existence lol; and ohhhh I feel you about the ER man- one of the most acutely painful experiences of my life was at 1:00 AM where all of a sudden my upper stomach/chest was just. it felt like it was strangling itself to death- i could barely breathe, i threw up just because of the pain. Mom rushed me to the closest ER, a small baptist one 10 mins from the house. They rushed me back and took some blood/did an IV, but by that time the pain was passing. They kept me for 3-4 hours, but had no one on site that could do an ultrasound.... all they could offer me was an x-ray, which wouldn't show anything anyhow. Doctor I talked to said it could have been 1,000 things, was guessing it was some really bad food poisoning........ exactly a week later, same exact scenario ensued, Mom rushed me to a different ER.... they did an ultrasound and literally said my gallbladder was about to burst & was full of gallstones :))))

Unfortunately getting my gallbladder removed didn't really solve my GI health- if anything, it kind of harmed it... I developed heartburn, and later pretty sever constipation. I developed colitis, and then later proctituis. Doc put me on stool softeners & miralax, and now I literally cannot pass stool's w/o taking those regularly.

Though I will say, before getting my gallbladder out, I also had a LOT of trouble eating food- I lost like.... 40+ lbs without trying to. I also would get fairly lightheaded/dizzy/just not feel "right" a lot of the time. I'd defo suggest getting an ultrasound done if you can to rule out gallstones from the "list of 1,000 things that can cause GI issues" :'D

I also had an endoscopy and a colonoscopy done (which i hope yours went well btw!) within a few months from each other, even after the surgery cause I was still occasionally getting pains, some just as painful as before the surgery- I likely think I have stray gallstones just. fuckign shit up. in my body. lol. That or they're like. kinda stuck int he bile duct were my gallbladder used to be... at least thats what the sickos on reddit have said :'D

Anyway, this all to say is I FELL YOU ANON :(( And I also miss exercising!!! i literally developed such a great scheduel for morning walks when i lived/worked at home, and was so excited to continue doing that after i moved- but tbh walking/exercising was so triggering for me because it's usually my time to focus/relax and all I could think about when walking was how much pain i was in/how I couldn't focus on the music... now i'm unreasonably scared to start back up again :(((

Though on the brightside, even tho i still am in pain, I am defo in a way, way better place than I was a year ago. It was so scary being in an amount of pain where I just... thought about not being here anymore JUST because of the pain. That was scary for me, esp since I felt like I should have been ontop of the world after moving.

But yea, defo doing... better :'D I hope the trend towards a more painless future continues, and that you get some answers/relief of your own anon! You got this and you're not alone! :D

#oki answers a thing #anon

[brahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh]

im gonna do this cause i see it everywhere and never have but idrk if people care so im just gonna do as much as i want all at once for fun

1 sw 172 hw 205 cw 173 lw 140

2 im 5'5 and a half technically and i wish i was just 5'5 or like a little bit shorter i hate being bigger than other people and i feel like its more ""excusable"" if im shorter? i grew up being the tall kid and hated it so i feel a lot better about it now since everyones grown

3 not posting thinsp0 cause i dont wanna get t3rmd or be too triggering

4 my greatest fears about weight loss are dying, getting forced into recovery again or institutionalized and just generally my mom finding out

5 the real reason i wanna lose weight is definitely mostly for other people i got over a lot of insecurity when i recovered but fatphobias a bitch and people treated me sm worse constantly than when i was at my lw

6 i dont binge probably bc most of the time theres not a lot of food in the house and ive just never gotten into the habit of it

7 i dont think my parents know? my mom might but if she does she thinks im just exercising again and doing it healthy style

8 i dont really have a workout routine im still trying to get back into working out but i do go on 20 minute runs like 3ish times a week and ive been doing small pinterest cardio workouts like burpees mountain climbers and other basics

9 people have made comments since 2nd grade lol thats a big part of why im back here

10 the hardest thing ive given up during weight loss was happiness honestly. it sounds cheesy but eds literally take over your brain food was the only thing on my mind and recovering was like euphoria with this giant weight (lol) lifted.

11 @lxllx3d is my fav thinsp blog cause i dress alternative and the owner seems cool and has good opinions

12 too many hard boiled eggs my cholesterols crazy and i have bagels pretty often as my main meal

13 lmao

14 my ugw is 120 and losertown says ill reach it sometime this summer or august

15 im not vegan or vegetarian but im hindu so i dont eat cow and feel bad about pigs being smart so i dont eat pig i try to eat as much chicken as i can cause protein is very important for not dying w a restrictive ed

16 i first decided to lose weight when i was 9 i would do these workout apps with my also fucked up friend. i saw a nutritionist (fuck you lady) when i was 11 and she told me to start counting calories on myfitnesspal (fuck you lady fr never tell a child to do that)

17 im an0rexic

18 sunflower seeds and pie are probably my biggest weaknesses (which is usually fine for sunflower seeds except like sodium)

19 the last time i ate fast food was probably like a month or two ago i had like fries and i live across the street from a fosters freeze (its like a dairy queen)

20 i dont really do diets i just set cal goals based on what i think i need/can handle

21 i wear like a us medium in tops and a large in bottoms depending on the store obvs

22 i already said but my lw was 140 and i gained bc i recovered (like professionally like i had a dr and psychiatrist and nutritionist(she sucked))

23 media probably definitely played a role in me thinking being fat was bad or just being aware of it in general but i think it was mostly subconscious

24 pro ana and pro mia are pretty dumb terms to me bc almost nobodys actually promoting it to other people or thinks its good we just want community i usually just say ana community or mia or ed

25 i have purged i cant remember the first time but i do remember one time i was hanging out with my friends at my house and we had rootbeer floats and i took a shower a purged it when they were in the other room which was super lame

26 im most excited to just feel lighter and have people notice again

27 idk how i deal with being around food sometimes i eat it sometimes i dont sometimes i give it to other people

28 a thigh gap would be nice bc chafing in the summer hurts so bad but i dont think its realistic for my body type and cause i still wanna be relatively curvy i def want more of a gap then now though

29 i think my definition of beauty is pretty abstract i find most things beautiful and a lot of it for people depends on actions and personality and little things they do i think beauty is ever evolving and cant really be defined

30 10 facts about me!! im an artist(bunch of different things but a lot of portrait paintings), im a smoker (both), im an ambivert but i act like an extrovert, i like kids, im german and have a really cool last name, im passionate about politics and social justice, im really passionate about the environment (i represent my school in this district wide youth environment thing and im taking ap environmental science), im very bisexual, i love riot grrrl music and subculture stuff, im a theater kid :|

#tw ed numbers #@n@ thoughts #@n@ diary #an0rec1a #anatumblr #light as a 🪶 #ed numbers

[faintlyof]

dr tiktok and dr google making me research POTS a bit >>

i mean, i wouldn’t say that omg i definitely have POTS, but i really don’t think it’s normal the barf/get extremely nauseous/get so light-headed and dizzy i have to sit down/pass out after being a little too warm a little too long. ツ

like it’s been like this since i was little. i can literally name every time its happened cuz i actively avoid to things that may make me hot like that.

first one i remember, camping at an rv park when i was like 7 or 8. my family all went in the hot tub, so i did too (yeah i was probably a bit too young anyways but what happened next surprised everyone! xD) but i ended up getting out of the tub after about 2 minutes because i started to feel nauseous. proceeded to spend the rest of the night vomiting. ツ actively avoided hot water for a while. it was also around this time that we had to write diaries for school and in one of my entries i had drawn a picture of a frowny me at a doctor saying “I‘m sick” and the diary entry was something like “I love water! It’s really good! But I don’t like drinking hot water. It makes my tummy hurt.” so yeah, there’s that too.

in high school, my choir went on a trip for a competition, so i was probably 16 or 17. a bunch of the girls wanted to go in the hot tub, so i kind of reluctantly followed them. sat in the hot tub for about a minute before telling my friends i wanted to swim in the pool instead, but actually, i was starting to get that cold sensation of nausea ツ went back to avoiding hot water

at my first job in japan, so i was probably around 23 or so, after many students harped on how awesome it is to take baths, i decided to very very carefully try to take a bath. i drank a big glass of cool water before, filled the tub with lukewarm water and left the bathroom door open so it wouldnt get too hot in the room. sat there for the most stressful 5 minutes of my life. mostly felt anxious i would be barfing for hours, but didnt actually feel too bad. stayed sitting in the tub and let the water drain out around me and only when the tub was nearly empty, i stood up. immediately my vision went grey around the edges and i felt faint and then i passed the fuck out. ツ went back to avoiding hot water but now also avoiding warm water. xD

and the most recent time, which doesnt actually involve water for once! yippee! got on the train to go to work in winter. it had snowed recently and it was quite cold, so i was wearing my winter coat and scarf and the train had the heaters going. maybe a minute or so after the doors closed and we started moving, i began feeling that cold, creeping overheating neasea feeling. i was already standing, so i leaned against the frame of the door so when the door opened, the cool air would hit me and toughed it out, slightly untying my scarf and unbuttoning my coat. when i arrived at my station, i was so light headed, i literally threw myself onto a bench on the platform and took off my scarf and coat and literally just chilled in a short sleeve shirt for like 5 minutes until i felt well enough to go up the stairs and get to work. ツ literally terrified all winter every winter that this will happen again because i do not want to be the person who passes out on the train.

then in general, when i try exercising, i get really sweaty and shaky like really fast. i can do like a low impact cardio workout for like 10 minutes max before i start to get shaky and start feeling a bit queasy. and omg if im watching a funny movie or talking to a friend and getting excited or laughing a lot, my lips go kind of numb and prickly and i cant really control them?? a bit in the fingertips as well. i dont know if thats related but laughing/being excited/whatever is kind of an intense activity soooo

so yeah, that’s why i’m curious about this whole POTS thing cuz the it gets worse in heat thing is a symptom that ive heard about pretty frequently.

or maybe im just weird. xD anyways, 10 minute lukewarm shower life v(n.n;)

#faint rambles

[nashibirne]

Gimme Shelter - 3

Chapter 3 anyone? Well...here it comes. I hope you enjoy it. If so, please leave me a comment, like or replog. 💜

Previous part -> Nashi’s Masterlist

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC (Kat Spencer)

Words: ~3.1k

Summary: Henry has to deal with a personal crisis and he finds shelter with his old rugby mate Sam and his sister Kat. She used to be Henry’s best friend a very long time ago. Will they be able to become friends again or maybe even more? Chapter 3: Henry tries to get closer to Kat but there are various obstacles.

Warnings: RPF, mention of mental health issues and panic attacks, language

No beta! All mistakes are mine. English is not my mother tongue so expect bad grammar and wrong spelling.

Disclaimer: I don’t know the real Henry Cavill, this is pure fiction and nothing more

Credits: Pics for the moodboard from Pinterest. Face claims: Kat = Jennifer Connelly, Eli = Stephen James

Taglist (please let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @madbaddic7ed @artandotherdelights @sweetlybigdragonn @notabronte @littlefreya @luclittlepond @eldarwen333 @meowpurrbooks @marantha @rn7rocks

~~~~~~~~

3

I should've known better than to cheat a friend

And waste the chance that I'd been given

So I'm never gonna dance again

The way I danced with you, ohh

Never without your love

From Careless Whisper written by Andrew J. Ridgeley / George Michael

Henry was wrong thinking their conversation was the end of Kat's distant behaviour. Sure, it got better but she was still acting aloof and it was clear as day that she still couldn't see him as a friend. She treated him like a guest. Always polite and friendly but keeping her distance and neutrality. And that was the reason why he was really looking forward to tonight. It was Saturday and they were going to visit the city festival that took place every summer and that was a big event in the little town of St. Ives. Henry, Kat and Sam with his girlfriend Lydia, who was a delicate and very pretty black woman with an astonishing amount of energy, always in a good mood and wearing her heart on her sleeve. Henry immediately got why Kat liked her so much, when he met her for the first time a day after he moved in. She was funny and very smart, a real tough cookie but caring and warm-hearted, too. So it was going to be just the four of them and of course he was hoping for a chance to come a little closer to Kat in the relaxed atmosphere of the public party with some music and drinks. Maybe she was able to loosen up around him there. 

When they arrived the festival was in full swing. The city was crowded with tourists and locals, smiling faces everywhere and the friends were in a good mood, too. Sam and Lydia were standing arm in arm and Kat was sure her brother had finally found his perfect match. She'd never seen him so in love before and she was genuinely happy for him. Henry went to a stall and came back with four glasses of beer, after he had taken a few selfies with some fangirls. Kat was wondering how he felt about this. About the fact that he got recognized although he was in St. Ives to escape all the media hype and all the pressure that it had put on him in the last years but he didn't seem to care. Maybe he's so used to it that it doesn't bother him, Kat thought, or he's just not showing it. "Cheers." Henry said, smiling at them, holding Kat's gaze a little longer than usual which made her nervous. "Cheers." They answered in unison and Kat started to look around. There were various stalls selling all kinds of stuff, from kitsch to unique art and she even spotted some carousels. The band that had been playing was just leaving the stage right in front of the harbour.

"Isn't that Elijah?" Sam nudged her and nodded at a stall a few meters away. 

"Who?" Lydia craned her neck to take a look. "The inked guy?"

"Shit. Yes, that's him." Kat made a face and Henry turned around. There was only one inked guy. He was tall and buff, tattooed from head to toe - literally. He was young, 24 or 25  maybe, and very handsome, Henry had to admit that. Piercing blue eyes, a sharp jawline and high cheekbones, his black hair worn in a stylish undercut, dressed in ripped jeans and a simple white T-shirt.

"This is your fuck boy?" Lydia blurted out. Kat shushed her with an awkward grin. "He was my fuck boy. Past tense."

Henry felt his stomach twist in a strange mix of jealousy, anger and protectiveness.

"Damn, girl. You never mentioned he is that hot. I see why you didn't say no to him."

"Excuse me?" Sam looked at his girlfriend with a frown. "You don't even like tattoos?" Lydia laughed out loud and kissed him. "You're right, baby, he's gross." 

"There he comes." Henry said looking at Kat who rolled her eyes.

"Heaven help." She muttered under her breath.

"Kat, good to see you." Ink guy hugged her before he eyed her up and down. "You look great." 

"Hi. Thanks. You look good too." She smiled at him and there was an awkward pause until she cleared her throat to introduce him.

"Um, yeah, you know my brother Sam and this is his girlfriend Lydia." She pointed at them. "And here we have our new housemate Henry." She nodded at him and Henry flinched. Housemate. Not friend, just housemate.

"Guys, this is Elijah. We used to do Yoga together."

Elijah glanced at her before he put on a lewd smirk. "Yeah, let's call it Yoga." He raised his eyebrows and gave Kat a sexy wink.

"Speaking of which. I really miss our long and intense...Yoga exercises." He grinned. "I think about you a lot to get into the right mood, whenever I do Yoga...all alone. On my own. Almost every night."

Kat raised an eyebrow and returned his flirtatious smile. "I'm sure you don't have problems finding a new Yoga partner."

"No, I don't. I've tried it with a few. But it's hard to find someone as good as you. As flexible and experienced and passionate...about Yoga."

Kat was speechless for a moment and Elijah stepped closer and whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. "Maybe we can do a session tonight."

Kat looked him in the eyes, biting her bottom lip. "Yeah. Maybe. If I'm in the mood for Yoga later."

He grinned. "See you on the dance floor? The DJ's gonna start his show in a few."

"Sure." Kat nodded.

"Great. See ya, guys." He waved at them and strolled away with a swagger that annoyed Henry.

When he was out of earshot Sam laughed out loud.

"Fuck, sis. Did the guy just tell you, you're his wank-rag?"

Kat knitted her brows with an embarrassed grin. "Shut up, okay? I don't wanna hear anything about this. This conversation never happened." She blushed furiously and Henry would have loved to ask her about the story behind all this but he kept his mouth shut. It was none of his business. He was just the housemate.

*****

It took Henry another four glasses of beer to  find the courage to ask her about Mr. Ink anyway.

"So what's going on with you and...Elijah?" Henry faked nonchalance by giving her just a quick glance and a tiny smile.

"Nothing." Kat didn't even look at him. Instead she watched the dancing crowd in front of the stage.

"I see." Henry tried to shrug it off and took another sip of his beer. He knew he shouldn't drink so much but it helped him to loosen up. 

"Do you really think it's good for you to drink so much when you're still on your meds?"

Henry wasn't surprised by her question. She had always taken care of him. She had always been his voice of reason.

"No. Actually I know it's a very bad idea."

"But you do it anyway. Some things never change." Kat turned to him, took his glass out of his hands and replaced it with her glass of coke. He accepted it with a lopsided grin and the look they shared when their hands touched for a second made his heart flutter.

"I had a fling with him last year." Kat finally explained. "We went to the same Yoga class and we started to...well...have sex. It only lasted a two months."

"Why did it end?"

"It got a little out of hand. Eli wanted more than booty calls but I didn't. I just wanted casual fucks…"

Henry looked at her with a frown. Of course she misinterpreted his expression.

"Don't you dare judge me, Cavill…" Her voice was tense.

"I don't judge you, Kat. Casual sex can be great, I know that. I'm just surprised. I mean, you used to be the romantic type…"

"Romance is dead, Henry." She tried to temper her words with a smile but he knew that look that crossed her eyes. A mixture of defiance and sadness, that indicated a topic that worried her though she wouldn't want to talk about it. "Kat…." He touched her arm and she flinched as if his hand was burning her. Kat gave Henry an apologetic smile. Shaking her head she took his hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "I'm fine." The way he looked at her -his head cocked, his gaze intense- made her skin tingle and so she quickly averted her eyes.

She constantly had to remind herself of their conversation a few days ago. She was willing to give it a try, to be friends with him again but she just wasn't able to shake off the past. And the mixed emotions she had just thinking about him weren't helpful as well. She was attracted to him more than she wanted to be and at the same time she couldn't stand being too close to him. Henry opened his mouth to say something but before he was able to do so Lydia took Kat by the hand and dragged her away. "Come on, Kat. Let's dance. I love this song."

Elijah found Kat on the dance floor after just five minutes. She seemed to be hesitant at first about dancing with him but after another five minutes she had given in and now Henry was watching them getting closer with every song, moving to the rhythm, Elijah was holding her very close, rubbing his body against hers and it looked pretty hot.

"The guy's got moves, huh?" Sam nudged Henry with a grin.

"Yeah." He couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"If you're so annoyed by him, why don't you do something about it?"

Henry looked at him with a frown. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you can go on watching them dry humping on the dancefloor with hungry eyes or you can go dance with Kat yourself."

Henry let out a snort.

"I don't think your sister wants to dance with me."

"You'll never know if you don't try."

Henry just grunted and tried to shrug it off but Sam didn't want to let him off the hook.

"Just go and dance with her."

"I don't know."

"Oh come on, Cavill. Don't be such a sissy."

"Where's the point, Sam. She hates me."

Sam shook his head. "She doesn't hate you."

"But she doesn't like me either." Henry wasn't convinced. 

"She likes you more than she dislikes you." Sam replied cryptically. "Now, come on. Go and put this prick in his place." Sam took Henry's glass and gave him a little shove. "Go." Henry stumbled forward. "Go." Sam repeated. Henry rolled his eyes. "Fine. She thinks I'm an idiot anyway. Not a problem if I make a fool of myself."

Henry made his way through the dancing crowd and when he finally stood right beside them Kat noticed him with a surprised smile. She stopped moving and Elijah gave him an angry glance. "Sorry, but I have to cut in." 

"You do?" Kat asked sarcastically. "I do. Sorry, mate." He took Kat's hand and pulled her away from Elijah.

"Fancy a dance?" He indicated a bow and gave her a wink.

Kat grinned and gave Eli an apologetic shrug before turning to Henry again.

"Why not. Show me your moves."

And so they danced. Not as sexy and close as she had danced with Mr. Ink but still. She seemed to be happy and enjoying his company and that was all Henry was asking for. He wasn't the best dancer but it felt okay after the first awkward moments and Kat even touched him from time to time. After the third uptempo song the DJ played a slow track and he pulled Kat closer. She hesitated for a brief moment but then she wrapped her arms around his neck and he held her by her waist. They swayed to the slow music, their bodies not touching but their eyes met and Henry was wondering if Kat's heart was racing as fast as his. 

Kat's heart was indeed racing. So many years ago this had been all she'd ever wished for. To dance with him to a romantic song. To feel his hands on her body. To be close to him. But those teenage dreams belonged to the past. She didn't believe in the idea of everlasting love anymore. She had given up on waiting for 'the one' a long time ago. And even if she had this tiny spark of hope for finding true love remaining in the darkest corners of her mind, it couldn't be Henry, could it? Her heart and mind screamed no. No, woman, he broke your heart. Don't get too close to him. You're going to burn your fingers. Again. He's not the one for you. But her body said yes. Go for it, woman. You're attracted to him. You've yearned for him 22 years, now get what you're craving.

Kat started to panic when Henry's gaze got more and more intense. She felt like drowning in his ocean blue eyes and burning up in his body heat at the same time. She knew that warm, fluttery feeling in her belly that was caused by his smile and his touch too well and she wouldn't let this happen again. He might have tricked her once but she wouldn't let him trick her twice. No fucking way.

Kat let go of his neck and took a step back and he knew their dance was over. Elijah gladly took over again and all Henry could do was to quit the field. 

****

When Kat came home the next morning she found Sam in the kitchen making scrambled eggs and bacon.

"Morning. That smells heavenly."

"Morning. Will be done in a minute if you want some."

"I'd love to. I'm starving."

Sam turned around with a smirk.

"Really? No morning-after-breakfast at Elijah's?"

Kat rolled her eyes. "I didn't want to stay any longer, it just makes things awkward."

"I see. Is this going to be a regular thing again? You and your toyboy?"

"No." Kat shook her head. "Definitely not. Where are Lydia and Henry?"

"Lydia has a bad hangover and Henry….well, I guess he's still asleep. He didn't feel well last night." Sam turned around and gave his sister a plate filled with eggs, bacon and a bagel. Kat looked at him with a frown. "How's that? He was fine when I left. Did he drink too much?"

"No, no, he just had water after you scolded him for drinking." Sam winked at her with a grin. Getting serious he sat down and looked at her. "He had some kind of panic attack. Just freaked out…"

"God, Sam. That's awful. What happened?" Kat looked at her brother with a stunned expression on her face.

"I don't really know. It began with some people that recognized him. He took photos with them, it didn't seem to be a problem but then more and more fans came and surrounded him and he did his best to be nice and fulfill all their requests, he signed shirts and took selfies, one girl wanted his signature on her bra, it was crazy and soon got out of hand. I could see the panic in his eyes although he did his best to hide it. He was so polite and kind although a drunk guy, I guess the boyfriend of one of his fans, started to insult him. But at some point his face turned so pale and his hands started to shake, I was afraid he was about to pass out."

"Oh my god." Kat was really worried, Sam could easily tell by the deep frown and the knitted brows. "What did you do?"

"I got him out of there. Lydia calmed down the remaining fans and told them he had the flu or something and we went home."

"What did Henry say? Was it his first panic attack?"

"He didn't say much, didn't really want to talk about it. He went straight to bed. It was horrible, Kat."

"Shit."

"Yeah. I thought I'd bring him breakfast later. Or maybe you want to do it?"

Sam looked at Kat while he was eating a piece of bacon.

"I don't know, Sam."

"He trusts you, Kat."

"You are his friend."

"I'm his mate, that's a difference."

"No, it's quibble. You and him are closer than me and him. Whatever you call it." Kat arched an eyebrow and gave her brother an annoyed glance.

"Oh, come on,you know how it is, Kat. Guys don't talk about emotional stuff like this…"

"Maybe I don't want to talk about emotional stuff with him either."

Sam gave her a knowing look. "Are you afraid you're gonna fall for him again?"

Kat blinked repeatedly, speechless for a moment.

"What are you talking about?" She crossed her arms in front of her chest. Sam leaned back in his chair. "Look, Kat, I know I was busy with my own love life at school but I wasn't completely blind. I know you were in love with Henry. You always denied it but it was obvious to me. I knew you were lying when you said he's just a friend to you and I know that your friendship ended out of the blue when Hen and Poppy became a thing. So it's not so hard to draw the conclusion that he broke your heart and that you're afraid that history is going to repeat itself."

Kat chewed on her bottom lip but she didn't say a word. She just shrugged and pulled off pieces of her bagel absent minded.

"I think he needs you, Kat. He needs what the two of you had at school. That deep, unconditional kind of friendship. I can't give him that, we're not close enough, but you can."

She looked at Sam with a frown.

"I'm not so sure. It's not that easy. What we had back then is gone."

"I'm sure it's not. It's just buried under your past. You can dig it out."

Kat closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose with a deep sigh. "I'm not a therapist."

"Good, because he has a therapist. What he doesn't have is someone who knows him like you do. Someone he can trust."

"Alright. I'll do it. I'm gonna bring him his breakfast and see if he wants to talk but I'm going to blame you if this ends in disaster."

~~~~~~

tbc

#rpf #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill #cavillry #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill x ofc #friends to lovers #slow burn #Spotify

[mayo-advance]

What Do You Know? Pt. 2

Discription: Y/n was in love with Pietro Maximoff. But he was gone now and all that remains is a miscast imposter and Y/n is going to do everything in their power to find closure.

A/n: I have no clue where this is going or how many parts its gonna be. I literally have no plot or any idea what to make of the plot. This is a mess. And again i apologize for Ralph/Peter being very ooc

Part 1 , Part 3

”What do you know about other dimensions?”

You jumped, honestly not expecting him to still be able to use his speed. But this was a good thing, he had just used his super speed while you were watching. ‘Where else would i get it?’ your ass.

You accidentally disappeared, it happened every time you were shocked or anxious, and you guessed that old habits really do die hard.

“Hey wait nonono become visible-“ You forgot that Ralph did not know about your powers, and he looked concerned at not being able to see you. the only way he knew you were still there was due to the dip in the couch. “I need you to tell me what you know about other dimensions. Its important information.”

You sat there in silence for a long while, working through your breathing exercises in attempt to become visible again. Damn your obvious lack of control.

Ralph thought that you were never going to respond, patience had never been his forte. He rose from where he had been crouched before you and opted for sitting next to you. His leg started bouncing rapidly.

Ironically patience hadnt been Pietros forte either. Maybe its a speedster thing.

An idea struck you as you sat there with the stranger next to you.

“Well Captain Rambeau said she needed me, and ive probably overstayed my welcome-“ You rose, becoming visible as you did, stretching your back which was sore from slouching.

“Wait-“

“You know Ive never met director Hayward but i bet hes a dick-“ you took a few steps towards the door.

Ralph dashed and slammed the door to the room shut,” Wait ill tell you the truth-“

“I hope you have a good life Ralph-“ You kept approaching where he stood in front of the door, feigning the intent to leave.

“My name is Peter.”

You froze. The next words you were going to stay got caught in your throat and everything in the room felt as if it froze.

All you could do was stare. Isnt this what you had wanted? But at the same time being closer to the truth was daunting.

The truth loomed closer like a shadow.

“What..?” You and Peter stood a few feet apart, him still in front of the door, you in the middle of the room next to his discarded guitar on the floor. You were both staring at each other.

“My name is Peter Maximoff, and i’m not from around here.”

If his first name didnt catch you off guard enough, his last name sure as hell did.

Peter Maximoff? A speedster with silver hair and the last name....

You took a breath and reminded yourself ‘Hes not your Pietro Y/n’

Before either of you could say more, the sky went dark outside. You broke eye contact to look outside. It wasnt sunset dark or midnight dark. The sky went dark red.

“Well Peter, I think we need to continue this conversation later, wouldnt you agree?”

Your avengers training kicked in as you shoved the speedster out of the way.

You rushed out of the room (house? I cant tell the location of ‘Ralphs’ man cave bear with me here) And was greeted with Wanda and the witch having a face off in the sky.

Well you cant do much to help her from the ground, but Monica has got to be around here somewhere.

You felt a gust of wind to your left and in your peripheral vision you saw that Peter stood next to you.

It took a split second for you to come to a decision.

“Ok Peter, i’ll help you get back to whatever grave you managed to dig yourself out of. But first we need to get out of here.” You didnt look at him, your focus being on the red sky glowing with some very strange symbols.

“Ok and how do we do that?”

#wandavision #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #ralph bohner #monica rambeau #the hex #agatha harkness #fanfiction

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

37 weeks

Summary: your baby came a little early

Warning: Fluff, birth

Title: 37 weeks

Word count: 1.4k

Pairing: Harry styles x pregnant reader

Masterlist | request closed momentarily

Please don't post any of my content anywhere else without my permission. Comments and reblogs welcome!

You were 37 weeks along and you were heavily pregnant. It wasn't a planned pregnancy but you and Harry sure were happy about it. See you both have been together for 3 years now and it didn't surprise you that it happened. Before the tour Harry couldn't keep his hands off of you which led to a bump growing in the oven. Now Harry is on tour for almost 7 months now and he was as anxious as can be when he's away.

Your phone ringing pulled you out of your amazing slumber. You groaned reaching to pick up your phone. You winched at the bright setting, but looked at the caller ID. 

It was Harry

You answered it. "Hello." Harry heard the sleep in your voice and started to feel bad that he woke you up. "I'm sorry love, I woke you up?" You shook your head even though he couldn't see you. "No I should be getting up now really. What are you doing haz?"

He exhaled, "well just finished a show and I wanted to talk to you before I fall asleep." You smiled. "Oh, I would love to talk to you."

You and Harry talked for a while. He asked how you were feeling, how much the baby has been kicking and how your last appointment was. He was such a sweetheart about everything, you're so lucky to have such a loving and caring fiancee.

After a while, Harry started to get sleepy. You both knew it was best if he went to sleep so he could be ready for his show the next day. You said your I love yous and goodnight before you hung up.

You hopped out of bed and went downstairs to make yourself some breakfast. You settled on some cereal and tea. You placed the water on the stove and went to eat your cereal.

You ate and scrolled through your phone until you heard the tea kettle whisper. You got up and winched at a pain in your stomach. You placed your hand on your stomach. The pain disappeared in less than a minute so you thought it was okay. You walked up to the stove and took the kettle off. Another sharp pain filled your stomach, but this time it was stronger. You groaned, gripping the counter. You quickly switched off the stove as the pain took over your body. 

You practice the breathing exercises that you learned in pregnancy class. It helped you a little bit. You got your tea and walked to the living room. You laid down and tried to push the pain away. You couldn't be having contractions, you were 37 weeks along.

You laid and watched TV for a while. You didn't get anymore pain so you thought you were in the clear, but you were wrong. You sat up and the pain came back. "Mm fuck." You had a gush of pain and then you felt wetness in between your legs.

"No, no, no." You looked down and you saw that your sweats were wet. You picked up your phone and dialed Anne's number.

"Y/n, how are you honey?" You winched, "hi uh Anne, my water broke." Anne gasped. "Okay, stay right there. I'm coming." You nodded, "okay."you hung up and waited for Anna to come. She didn't waste any time, she arrived in less than 5 minutes.

She used the key under the flower pot and welcomed herself in. "Y/n." You sighed in relief when you heard her. "In here." Anne walked in and looked at you. "Oh honey, let's get you to the hospital." You got up with her help and she led you to the door. You picked up the hospital bag on the way out not wanting to forget it.

You got in the car and Anne started driving. You picked up your phone, dialing Harry's number through a contraction. 

Harry woke up with a groan, picking up his phone. "Hello." His voice was groggy. "Harry." You said whimpering. Harry quickly sat up. "Y/n what's wrong? Is the baby okay?" You groaned. "Yeah everything is fine, I'm just having contractions." Harry cursed. He got out of bed and started packing his bag."your mom is driving me to the hospital right now." Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he heard that his mom was driving him.

"Alright, just do those deep breath exercises we learned. Do you want me to stay on the phone, love?" You nodded, "Yes please." 

"Okay, inhale and exhale baby." He said as he slung his bag over his shoulder and walked out of the hotel room. He will call the crew later, but right now the only thing he's worried about is you.

Anne arrived at the hospital and pulled into the emergency entrance. She got out of the car and got you a wheelchair so you could be wheeled in. You were still talking to Harry as another contraction hit. The nurse wheeled you in, into a room. 

"Deep breathes love, everything is okay. We're going to have a baby, isn't that amazing?" He tried to calm you down and that made you smile. "Y… yes, we're going to have a baby." Harry chuckled softly at that thought. "I'm going to hang up because I'm at the airport and my jet is here. I love you so much ok, don't have the baby without me."

"Alright haz." You hung up and turned to Anne. "Thank you for bringing me here." She shook her head, "that's what I'm here for." You smiled at her before turning to the nurse. She asked you a series of questions before she put you on an IV. Anne stayed with you coaching you through your contraction. They started to get even more intense as you inched closer to birth. You were sweaty, crying, and cursing mess but she was by your side, even texting Harry telling him everything that was going on.

Speaking of Harry, he was just landing in London. He called Gemma so she could drive him to the hospital. Harry was getting anxiety. His legs were bouncing, his heart was racing as she drove.

"Calm down Harry, mom is with her. It's going to be fine." Harry looked over at Gemma. He exhaled, "I know, I'm just extremely scared." Gemma smiled at her brother, "it's okay Harry, I promise."

-♥-

You were literally on the edge. You were dialed and the doctor wanted you to push, but you couldn't, not with Harry. "I can't without Harry." you were in pain and crying. The doctor nodded, "I know, but you have to push." You wailed out as another contraction came over you. 

"Okay, fuck I'll push!" You hold your legs back and begin to push. You thought contractions were painful, but pushing was worse. You cried out and pushed the best you could. Through the moment Harry arrived. He sprinted to your room. 

They let him in and he took Anne's place. "You're an amazing baby." You whined while taking his hand. The doctor told you to push again and you did. You squeezed Harry's hand tightly, pushing with all your might. The nurse counted to 10 and you took a deep breath. 

"I can see the head, one more big push." You nodded. You took a breath and pushed hard. You cried out, your body felt like it was on fire. It wasn't long before the pain was eventually over when you heard a cry. You looked down and saw your beautiful baby girl. She was placed on your chest, you cried as you looked up at Harry.

He had tears in his eyes. "She's so beautiful." He took a hold of her tiny hand and kissed it softly. You looked at her. "Yes."

"Have we picked out a name for her?" You looked down at the nurse. "Um yes, Darcy Anne." You turned to Anne who was standing in the corner. "I think she deserves to be named after her amazing grandmother. Anne smiled, placing her hand over her heart. "Really?"

Harry nodded, "yes we couldn't have done this without you ma." Harry let go of Darcy's hand and walked up to his mom giving her a hug. "Thank you so much for everything." Anna hugged her son tightly. You smiled, looking back down at Darcy. She was fast asleep, she didn't know it, but she was about to be the most spoiled princess ever. You and Harry were so happy to have her.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭ 。.・

@captainamerica-is-bae @marvelnaturalock

#Harry styles x reader #dad! Harry styles #Harry styles #Harry styles one shot #Harry styles fanfiction #Harry styles Imagine

[thithesandofferings]

Gym...Date Raian x Reader

TW: 18+ MINORS DO NOT ENTER

Semi-public sex, Rough- (but is anyone surprised-) Scent kink, spit kink - hes just nasty and we love him for it. 

It wasnt often when you would accompany Raian to workout, but today you felt a spark that you needed to. You did skip a few workout days yourself and its been awhile since you felt that satisfying soreness post workout. You and Raian both had a love for working out and thusly transformed your own gym in one of the downstairs rooms. Throwing your phone on the bed you quickly changed into some short and a sports bra and went down to meet him. When you got there Raian was already starting his routine so you decided to start on your warm ups seeing how he didnt wait for you. Simple stretches is what you decided to begin with before some cardio. 

Your eyes glanced to where Raian was, he looked so focus while he worked out. It was a side to him you hardly saw and it was actually quite refreshing. He seemed so in tuned with every raise of the dumbbell, releasing air whenever it went back down. He truly loved the sport he did, regardless of how dangerous it was. Well he might be more dangerous than the sport itself. You found yourself giggling to yourself, which caught his attention. His eyes met with yours, he smirked, knowing well you were staring at him for some time, causing you to almost choke on your own spit. 

You quickly turned and continued on with your stretches. Slowly raising your hands above your head you stretch and then just as slowly bend over to touch your toes. You repeated that process until you heard a heavy object fall to the ground. You paused mid stretch to look back and saw Raian picking up the dumb bell he apparently let dropped. You stare at him confused. 

"H-how did you manage to-" 

"Shit happens OK!" 

".....ok..." After dragging your eyes from him for at least a minute you finally get into your routine. This one was by far one of the hardest ones you could have picked. It literally worked out your arm, legs, back, glutes and thighs. You finally had a 2 minute break and you so happen to meet eyes with Raians again. He looked done with his routine so he was just sitting on the bench motioning for you to come over by him. "..huh?...but im not don-" 

He raised an eyebrow .

"...Raian please...im almost done-" 

"Y/N if I ask a third time you'll regret it" 

With that you instantly go to his side. You go to sit next to him but he grabs your waist pulling you into his lap. 

"Noooo im sweatyy" 

"So" 

"So?? I dont wanna-" your words got caught off, feeling something wet along your back. 

 "Just as i thought...you taste delicious" he said dragging another wipe across your arm now. He pinned you tightly against his lap and pulled you back even further. He then made his way to the crook of your neck, he kissed up your nape to the bottom of your ear. Slowly licking and nipping, licking and nipping at your wet skin

 "R-raian...please...atleast let me...shower first" 

His grip tightened as he growled into your ear. 

"You see...ive been watching you all that time...ive been finished with my workout from long old time and i couldnt help but observe my little kitten busy with hers." He breathed in your ear. His breath was hot...hot and dripping in want and need. His voice also seemed to crack a bit which was a sign he was really...really ready to break...or well to break you.

 "But...i...F-FUCK.." He slipped a hand between your leg. At this point you wasnt sure if it was sweat or arousal but your will to care was slowly leaving you. His thumb began running circles up and down your clothed folds, increasingly picking up speed as he continued. 

 "I bet this tastes even better huh?...you dont know how bad i wanted to bend you over this bench whiles you did your stretches...made it hard for me to concentrate on my own fucking exercise." 

He bit down on your shoulder and then licked around it. "- but you knew what you was doing...right kitty? Thats why you wanted to come work out with me here" 

"N-n...no..i..i didnt"

 "Dont lie to me kitty...what other reason did you have then?" He made use of his other hand, grabbing both breasts at once and squeezing. He always knew the exact location of your nipple and wasted no time in kneading them.

 ".....i..i..just-HHHHNNNGG_i..." 

"Speak up kitty...i cant understand a word you're saying" he smirked behind you. At this point his erection was more than visible and even more so notable as you sat on him. The heat alone coming from off of it was enough to make you whimper and try to ground down on him for some type of friction. ANYTHING! 

He stilled his hand from between your legs and grabbed your head back by your hair. Skillfully wrapping them twice around his hand in once quick fluid motion of his wrist. 

"Now now kitty, are you that fucking desperate for my cock? Tryna grind down this naughty ass on me like that...no no kitty...you gotta earn it first." You could only whimper and whine as his grip tightened in your hair. 

You struggle to even swallow the spit accumulating in your mouth, yet right now only one thing was on your mind. "What color kitty?" 

"..g-green..." 

"Good girl" he smiled before crashing his lips into yours. It took little to no time for you to allow him into your mouth. His tongue quickly taking over your senses as he literally kissed you breathless. His hand flew down into your shorts and swiped up your folds before parting them, causing you to break the kiss. He took advantage of this moment by quickly removing his fingers and placed two of his large digits into your gapping mouth. "Suck it clean kitty...and then i'll clean up the rest downstairs" 

The moan you let out around his fingers was by far the most shameful thing you ever heard but then again you didnt care much. You notice the way his eyes closed as soon as he felt your tongue wrap around his fingers. The wet lapping motion you did with his tongue was enough to drag out a throaty moan from him which even caused him twitch. 

"FUCK...you're so good with that tongue kitty...so..so fucking good" he pulled and pushed his fingers in your mouth, basically face fucking you with his hands. At the last pull you sucked on his fingers and did a small bite as he popped out of your mouth. When he opened his eyes all you saw staring back at you was dark black irises. Oh shit. Without a word he lifted you up and threw you over his shoulder and started off towards the stairs. 

"You caused this on your self kitty" he said smacking your already sore ass. 

"I just wanted to work out...its been so long since i was sore from a workout"

 "If you wanted to be sore from a workout....you only needed to ask...i'll make sure you're fucking sore alright. Really fucking sore"

-Krissy

#raian x reader #Kure Raian #raian headcanons #raian drabbles #kengan ashura

[goatpaste]

shroom story? :0

 oh my god this sdgjkh sat in my inbox for days because i didnt have the energy to awnser it right away and then forgot. i think this was prompted because of this ask which still makes me laugh to think about 

anyways shroom story, its sdjkgh a favorite story in my server and new friends

but like ough i was in the summer between middle and highschool so like ?? 14 i think maybe 15, i forget what age most people are round then

but probably 15, old enough that my parents could question me doing any sorta drug in a normal way. like not a concerning way but in a genuine way.

and my parents smoke weed, SO much fucking weed all the fucking time their a nightmare. and i was in the room next to them and often could smell it in my room at night.

but myself, i dont do any sorta drug, just not something iv been able to do or had a desire for ig sorta.

also more context, my mom stopped smoking and this was about the time she started her road to being a crazy vegan person and it started when she watched some video about how refined sugars and salts will give you cancer. so out went all sugar and refined salts in our house for the rest of the time i lived with them.

but once in awhile when i had a few bucks i still went out and got soda and a snack at the gas station, or we’de have sweets like graham crackers or dfjkgh like literally whatever was sweet like some caramel on bread. shit like that. and on weekends id scrounge the cabinets for snacks and hole up in my room and watch shows on my computer in my room.

and so one night i was doing that and idk, as some of you can probably guess, i found two little chocolates wrapped in tin foil. and ME fucking absolute DUMBASS didn’t think anything of it and went mmm choncholate for sammi! and promptly took it to my room along with some other things.

was watching my show, snacking fine until the chocolates. 

let me reiterate, i am a fucking MORON.

i bit into the first one and went, yuck! gross!....... maybe the other one taste better? bit into that one, didnt taste good. went, hmm theres something in there maybe i need to eat around it. not realizing it was like THE WHOLE CHOCOLAte i tried to eat around the center to find it still gross, gave up and threw the chocolates away.

and see i didnt think anything of it because one, im a fucking idiot. and two, my date was terribly lactose intolerant and kept dark chocolate in the house and its very bitter and i didnt like it, and at the time had assumed it was just dark chocolate.

went back to my shows for awhile

annnd then the shrooms kicked in.

and to be clear, im a dumbass and had NO idea what i had just done.

and i start to feel sometHING is wrong with me and like i cant describe how it made me feel except that when it started my brain decided “oh god im being punished for not exercising enough. i dont do enough cardio and im dying RIGHT NOW for it.”

so i went outside to the backyard where my parents work blowing glass and making weed pipes. and im like... mother.. i have to go outside right now i need to run around the block right now

NOT RELIZING HOW INSANE I SOUNDED

and my mom straight up is like... are you on drugs???

and i ofc, somehow still dont click it together and go, “nononinon no no i dont do drugs!”

and return to my room to calm down and watch my show some more before i accept i MAY be high fjkghg

returning to the backyard both my parents are there and i tell them about the chocolate, they honestly think its a lil funny and my dad and is kinda like “ :O!! my fuckin shroom chocolate we were saving that!”

and they start like trying help me, asking me if i wanted to watch a movie in the living room until i come down and everything. and im telling them i want to be alone and go to sleep until  its over because i was miserable and a little stressed because OFC this didnt happen on my terms.

so i return to my room and try to lay down, but i remember like trying to close my eyes and just seeing fucking colors very much like a kaleidoscope. Annoyed i tried to push that from my vision

but when i would attempt to push away colors and find a dark patch in my like brain? there was a small puppet of me just like, doing the jig. And it was shaped like mister smarty pants from between the lions

so i give up on sleeping and grab my blanket and pillow and go to the living room, leaning against the wall singing “im just a kid” on the way.

i asked my parents to put on some disney movie, they told me no because it fuck me up too bad. and then they turned on the lorax.

i remember that movie being SO blurry and i remember looking at my mom and going “this movie is too fucking orange >:(”

the rest of it was mostly fine, i went outside with my mom and ask if she could hear my poop through the window to the bathroom that was connected to the patio. she told me no

my father tried to get me to drink nyquil, i said no and layed on the floor and rolled away from him because i just remembered i really didnt like how it tasted.

then my parents told me i texted my friends “i ate something weird and im starting to feel weird???” sdjkgh and they told me i needed to clear everything up and make sure my friends didnt think i was high. the next day i went to my friends house and told them this exact story, and iv been telling this story since.

#its not too fancy of a drug story #but its mine #drug mention #long post #Anonymous

[sirowsky]

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, angst, physical injury.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: Reader continues to struggle with her abilities, but with some help, she finally begins to understand them better. Though, no good news without bad ones too...

(Is this GIF yours? Let me know, and I’ll credit you!)

Chapter 21

  The next morning you woke up in a secure room. They didn’t trust you with med-chambers anymore. That was probably about time.   Tuesday. Today was Tuesday. You sighed as you wondered just how long it would take before you’d inevitably mess up the days again.   You already missed waking up to Amaire’s brisk and energetic ‘Good morning, champ’. They were so good at using just the right level of enthusiasm to give you a boost, without stepping over into overly energetic, or annoyingly chipper.   Here, there were no lovable nurses, no doctors checking on you every hour, just sensors in the walls that continuously scanned you for changes in energy-levels.   Unfortunately, though, the science division had been kept up to date on your move, and within five minutes of you waking up, the door opened and another fucking piece of cardboard was shoved in your face.

  “Seriously? Do you people even sleep? It’s not even 6am yet…”

  “We sleep in shifts, miss. This is important, we want to get you that assessment as soon as possible.”

  Oh, great, now you felt bad for being snarky, on top of your usual less than stellar morning mood.

  “How thoughtful of you. And what about making this shit actually edible? Any idea how soon that might become a priority?”

  “Uh… sorry, miss. It’s a process.”

  “Really? I hadn’t noticed. Does the recipe actually change at all? Because it still tastes like something between paper and dirt, no matter how many times I eat it.”

  “It does, but they actually remove as much flavour as they can, since it’s so full of synthetic materials.”

  You raised your eyebrows at him before swallowing the synthetic piece of crap.

  “Sorry I fucking asked.”

  He squirmed a little where he stood, clearly uncomfortable with your language. But you were pretty sure he’d actually been waiting outside the door for you to wake up, and then not even had the decency to wait until you’d been to the bathroom before barging in. So, you didn’t really give a fuck about his feelings right then.

  “What?”

  “Sorry, I just have to ask if you feel any sense of fullness?”

  “I’ve barely swallowed it…”

  “I know, it’s just that the effect should be pretty instantaneous.”

  “Well, then – it isn’t. Can I go and do my morning bathroom now, or do you have another annoying and useless point?”

  He all but ran from the room and you felt a tiny little bit bad for him. But they really should know better than to bother you first thing in the morning, by now. Especially with nervous tweens.

  You missed the relative warmth of the med-chambers. These rooms were literally just empty squares of powers-proof materials, or, as close to it as you could get. There wasn’t actually any material that was 100% proof against powers, but some metals combined with force-fields could withstand incredible amounts of supernatural forces.   There was a simple bed, and two chairs and a table, all of it made with the same power-resistant metal. That was it.   And while you did see the wisdom of keeping you in there, it also felt more like a prison than anything else, and it made you anxious. Especially since Marcus was still on single supervised visits.   He’d been verbally reprimanded for taking you to the in-house restaurant, and sitting you down among dozens of other guests yesterday, but in these circumstances that was like getting a slap on the wrist. You hadn’t really been in any state to be able to harm anyone, since he practically had to carry you there. And he’d made the judgement call that getting nutrition into you was more important than keeping you isolated, at that particular moment.   He’d sat with you while you’d gone through the equivalent of about six dinners, continually refilling your plate as you emptied it, until you’d finally had enough, and damned near fallen asleep over your plate.   You didn’t expect him to visit until school was out for the day, so you prepared yourself for a long and dull morning, probably accompanied by nothing but the fucking science division.   Oh, joy.

  It was just before lunch that the door opened for the fourth time that morning. You were just completing your eight set of push-ups, burpees and hand-stands, and you were in no mood for more synthetic foods. Today was the kind of day where your morning mood just lingered, and became your overall mood.   You were pushing yourself physically in an effort to keep yourself calm and balanced, despite the boredom and interjecting annoyances, but it wasn’t quite working.

  “Did some idiot give you coffee?”

  You actually warmed at the sound of Anita’s sharp voice behind you, and you let your legs fall down from your last hand-stand and stood up to see her magnificent scowl.

  “I wouldn’t put it past them.”

  “Well, sit down before you pass out.”

  “I’d rather stand. I have a little too much energy at the moment.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  “I generally do. So, what brings you to my dungeon on this unremarkable Tuesday?”

  “Just checking on you for Marcus. He’s a bit worried after yesterday.”

  “Yeah… that wasn’t a very good day, either. I don’t seem to have a lot of those lately.”

  “Mm. It’ll get better. All supers struggle after discovering their powers, it’s just that, usually, they’re kids or teenagers which means they don’t have the grown-up problems to worry about too. You’re juggling a lot, loco. Give yourself a break.”

  “Wow. Marcus must be really worried if you’re actually being nice to me.”

  “I’m always nice to you.”

  You looked at her with a mockingly shocked expression.

  “Incredible. You’re lucky I kinda love you.”

  She squirmed and got up to leave, and you couldn’t help but grin widely behind her back.

  “You’re welcome, by the way.”

  “For what? The privilege of your visit?”

  “No, niña. For the smile on your face right now.”

  She didn’t even look back as she said it, somehow still knowing the smile was there. It lingered on your face for a good few minutes after she left.

  You gave up on trying to exercise your stress away, after your arms gave out and you fell on your face, during your fifteenth set of hand-stands.   You did have an actual bathroom, with a shower. But it was an adjoining room that could be detached from the actual cell, if anyone feared you might try to use the toilet as a battering-ram for some reason.   You took a long and soothing shower, letting the soap wash away the sweat and grime, but also some of the nervousness that seemed to live in your skin. You took some time to take care of your nails and put on creams and blow-dry your hair.   You hadn’t taken the time to really groom yourself in weeks, and it somehow made you feel better. Less chaotic and messy.   When you stepped out of the bathroom, the errand-boy from science was back, and whatever good mood you’d managed to accumulate, evaporated in an instant.

  “Oh, for the love of fucking Hades, will you just leave me alone, already!”

  A puff of energy escaped you, and it was enough to fling the scrawny little boy across the room and into the wall, head-first.   All the anger inside you morphed into a lump of ice in your heart, as you watched him collapse into a pile on the floor.   You ran over to him and picked him up into your arms, holding him tightly as you pushed your energy around him, and felt that thing leave you. That thing that wanted to make it right, to make him whole again, and in the next moment; he was.   You felt him twitch back to life, and your own energy drain, but you kept holding him.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to, I swear, I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry.”

  “Uh… it’s okay, miss. I’m fine.”

  You let him go just enough that you could grab his face and look into his eyes to make sure.

  “Nothing hurts? Nothing feels bad, or weird?”

  “I feel… great. My shoulder’s been killing me after a baseball accident last week, but it’s all better now. How’d you do that?”

  Suddenly terrified of how easily and effortlessly, you’d hurt this boy, for no reason, you crawled away from him.

  “Go. Get out of here. Don’t come back, don’t let anyone come back in. Stay away from me.”

  You crawled all the way to the opposite wall, before the fatigue overpowered you, and you passed out.

  When you came to, you’d been moved.   You were on a hard bed of some sort, in what looked like a lab, and there was an elliptic-shaped, transparent dome covering most of your torso, as well as two thin tubes leading into each one of your arms, and another two into each leg. IV-tubes. And the banana-bags they were attached to where in the gallons- not ounces -category.

  “What… what are you doing? It’s not safe… you have to put me back, it’s not safe…”

  “Calm down, miss. Everything’s fine, these instruments have been calibrated to absorb your energy, you can’t hurt us here.”

  Her voice was soothing, comfortable without feeling forced.

  “My name is Doctor Emily Kane, and you’re in the Research division right now. We’ve decided to go ahead and do your assessment. For the moment, it seems more urgent to understand your abilities, than keeping your energy up. That said, we’re not going to push you until you’re completely drained, don’t worry. We’ve taken as much precaution as we can.”

  “I… I think I killed that boy…”

  “And then you saved him. It was an accident, and I understand that it frightens you, but the key to controlling your powers in the future, is precisely by not being afraid of them. And the best way to reach that point, is to understand as much about them as you can.”

  She met your eyes and held your gaze until you nodded.

  “Okay. Then let’s get started. This machine on top of you is going to absorb and measure and categorise your energy, so I want you to try and activate your power right now.”

  You took a few deep breaths, and tried to push your energy out, but it wouldn’t come. Your fear had locked it down, and you wanted it to stay down. Forever.   After twenty minutes of failed attempts, no matter how much the good doctor tried to either soothe your worries, or antagonise you, she finally had to admit defeat and was forced to change tactics.

  “Okay, this isn’t gonna work. Bring him in.”

  The door opened and Marcus stepped in, and came towards you, and every piece of equipment in there that was attached to you, started beeping and moving.

  “Marcus… you shouldn’t be here.”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. You won’t hurt me.”

  “I don’t know that.”

  “But I do.”

  He kissed you, really kissed you, and the machines went crazy as you heated up for him. You wanted to touch him so badly, but your arms were trapped by the elliptic dome on top of you. Your ghost hands found him, curling into his hair and holding him to you, and all the while the room got louder and louder.   The frustration of not being able to feel his skin against your body, eventually made you angry. Angry enough that your energy flared, and the dome really did absorb it.   Somehow, that was a big enough surprise to you to break through your lust, and make you pull away from Marcus to stare at the dome while you shot another burst of energy through it.   It just disappeared from you as the machine sucked it up, and for reasons you couldn’t understand; it all seemed like a challenge to you. Like it was baiting you to try harder.

  Challenge accepted, Data.

  In your periphery, you saw Marcus back away, as you held back and gathered your energy under your skin. You had broken an entire med-chamber by filling the room with an invisible density, you’d certainly be able to break one little machine.   When the energy was so thick under your skin that you feared you might burst from the pressure, you released it. The whole room shook, but only for a moment, and then the dome had swallowed it all up.

  “Amazing…”

  Dr. Kane’s voice broke into your concentration, and you forgot your challenge.

  “I’ve never seen this type of energy before. It seems to exist in several dimensions simultaneously. Fascinating.”

  “Dimensions? Wait, it really is ghost energy?”

  She chuckled slightly at that.

  “I guess you could call it that.”

  “So, what does that mean?”

  “Well, we’ll have to perform more tests, obviously. But, basically, it means that you have the ability to tap into one or more alternate dimensions, and draw energy from them, into this one, using your own body as a conduit. It also means that there’s theoretically no limit to how much power you could wield, with the exception that acting as a conduit is seriously draining on your own body. So, let me be clear: your power absolutely can kill you.”

  You took a minute to absorb that, not that you actually could yet, and you felt, more than saw, Marcus shift nervously at your side.

  “And the healing?”

  “That one I can’t answer with any definity until we’ve had a chance to observe it through these instruments.”

  “But… your best guess?”

  “My best guess would be that that power actually comes from you, not some other dimension. It seems to be a clean transference, your energy and life-force is transferred to the injured person, instantly weakening yourself, much more than acting as a conduit does – but also instantly healing the recipient. It’s interesting that you’d develop these two powers specifically, though. It seems to indicate that you have a naturally self-sacrificial tendency.”

  Marcus flinched.

  “Self-sacrificial?”

  “Yes. A willingness and capability to take on difficult or even impossible tasks and burdens in order to protect others, regardless of personal pain or even the possibility of death.”

  That was a little too true for comfort.

  “And… while we’re on the subject of things that are less than fun to talk about, I feel obligated to inform you about something we’ve discovered about healing abilities in general.”

  “Okay.”

  There was something in her tone that made you feel like running out of the room.

  “We don’t know why, exactly, but it seems that women with healing abilities of any kind have an increased difficulty in conceiving children. We think that it might have to do with the fact that women bleed during their cycles and that their abilities instinctively try to prevent it, thereby messing with the natural order of the female body.”

  “But… I can’t heal myself.”

  “It doesn’t seem to matter. Have your cycles been regular?”

  “…No… not since the experiment. I figured it was because of the coma, since nothing at all worked during the time I was under, and for a while afterwards.”

  “Irregularity is one of the tell-tale signs, I’m afraid. But, listen, this is not an exact science. Couples that have been medically declared infertile or sterile have managed to get pregnant anyway. Nature’s amazing, and there’s so much we still don’t know about supers. So, if this is something you want, don’t let the science get in your way.”

  You had no idea what you wanted, only that you were suddenly glad that you’d at least started this conversation with Marcus a while back. It felt like it would’ve been a more difficult subject to broach now, if you hadn’t.   But this wasn’t the time to have it. There were more tests that needed to be done, and for the first time, you really wanted to know what more the science actually could tell you.

  You glanced at Marcus, hoping not see him crushed by the news, and were relieved to find him looking calmly determined.   You’d talk about it later.

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@blueeyesatnight​ @farfromjustordinary​ @allmyspideys​ @hrk-fic-recs​ @strawberryperegrine @lucrezia-thoughts​ @computeringturtle

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno fic #we can be heroes #we can be heroes fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

[axel-mania]

yesterday was the first time i met someone with ehlers-danlos. i was seeing her because she is a physical therapist with the disease i may have, and i hoped she could tell me whether my current pt is killing me with his treatment. and, you know, what she had done to be a working adult rather than someone frequently bedridden. it was a tiny office. i felt small, trapped, staring down at the intake paperwork, over a hundred questions and longer than any ive done before. i was so scared i wouldnt be able to get through that part and still have the scheduled meeting. but i guess she cared about seeing me, because even though other patients were asking for her help she still took the time to talk to me. 

so you write down all your pain, put down numbers that dont really convey anything about it, just trying to say that youre suffering and it should matter enough that something is done about it. i feel like im lying if i use all tens, but that means they might not take me seriously. on the flip side, im still walking and talking, no matter how feebly, so they might think im exaggerating it. my first adults' doctor told me id just have to learn to live with all this. but maybe this person understands. maybe shell care. 

youre just a six on the hypermobility scale. its eight to tens when we start to see the really bad conditions like ehlers-danlos. thats what the rheumatologist i was referred to said. but this physical therapist wasnt very flexible and shed been diagnosed. so she ended up completely redoing my evaluation. when i could bring myself to string more than a few words together to tell her, that is. i always feel stupid during these kinds of things. even if i record my pain, i dont have the right words to describe whats happening. i cant definitively answer all their questions, just give guesses. but she could see inflamed joints, out of place tendons, pops that i couldnt even hear. so i ended up meeting the criteria. it almost means nothing. 

i dont have an official diagnosis, which is almost impossible to gain, so i cant get benefits. well, i can at least pursue treatment, right? not really. she shot down the pain management options i had learned from the patient community, and said most people who felt worse in physical therapy were looking for someone to blame. shes the success case, and she presides over many more patients than me. so what could i do but accept it? 

theres only hard work. work you literally cant do if youre in enough pain. physically, im lucky. compared to others, my body has only broken down a little, so i can still do regular exercise. at the same time, no matter how hard i try, it will break down more. its a race alongside time. you can only get so much better as your body naturally gets worse. teaching your joints to stay in place doesnt mean making your body into a different one. 

youre never going to exist without pain every day. really sit with that for a second. you have to mentally say, im okay with this hard exertion every day, and im okay with it leading to only marginal and very long term benefits. i choose life no matter the consequences. 

and i cant choose that, not right now. not when i have questionable friends online and absolutely no one in real life. not when im living with my transphobic parents and am going to struggle to find any employment that can accommodate my disability. theres just really no reason. the one person who was dependent on me no longer is. i dont believe in life as an abstract good. so really, this seems to be a sign to kill myself.

whats going to happen isnt me dramatically and immediately hanging myself while my parents are asleep. its going to be a slow starvation. i repeatedly refuse to choose between life and death, fail to consistently do the exercise, and suffer more until its too much. this isnt exactly a cry for anyone to try talking me down. ive long since decided not to do that for others anymore, and i dont want it for me either. but it is sort of an open question... why are some people so happy to choose a miserable life? what do they have that i dont? maybe its a circular problem. im bitter because people arent caring for me enough, and people dont want to care for me because im bitter. 

#im typing this because i want to be seen #and i dont feel seen by anyone #but probably this is too difficult to respond to so i wont get any response #lol

[sonjaohno]

Democracy in America

Hello dear friends and family,

October is off to a crisp start and I've been busy squirreling away at the library. It's already been one month since I arrived, which makes it high time for some reflection. I've been working hard to come up with clever answers to the question of "what my impressions are" mainly because (and a list of so-called impressions follows):

I thought Finns were insecure, with their country branding workshops and whatnot, perennially worried about what other people (read: the Swedes) think of us, but I can tell you, Americans are worse. In all the years I've lived in Berlin, not once has a German person (nor a Berliner—these are two completely distinct groups of people) asked me to tell them what I "think" about their country, or what my "impressions" are. Maybe they know better than to ask. Maybe they really don't care. Americans, on the other hand (including New Yorkers, though a similar non-equivalence exists here), cannot get enough of foreigners' interpretations of their country. I think it's because they genuinely don't know what to think about their country themselves and are waiting for somebody to tell them what the hell is going on here. So, what are my impressions so far?

America is home to some really great things. So far, my top three list is i) cinnamon-flavored chewing gum ii) hazelnut-flavored filter coffee (a mystery but a delightful one) iii) pecan-pumpkin-spice-flavored filter coffee (again, I don't know who came up with this or what they do to make coffee taste like a Hallmark card but I fuckin love it) iv) ditto, snickerdoodles (both the word and the pastry). Oops, that's four.

There is, however, clearly something wrong with a country that has to keep toothpaste under lock and key at the drugstore. I mean, toothpaste is expensive here—$5.99 for a tube, are you kidding me?—but it's still not exactly a luxury item. I literally have to ring a bell at Duane Reed to get an employee to open the toothpaste safe for a tube of Colgate. I wondered about this out loud to a New Yorker, who told me it's because the Duane Reed I went to is located at a "minor transportation hub," in the corner of W 110th and Broadway, which presumably means that this ludicrously wealthy Upper West Side drugstore frequented mostly by Columbia students and faculty is some kind of a crime hotspot. I should probably start carrying a gun.

Americans are loud. I feel like shushing people all the time, which makes me feel like a bad person. If anyone asked me to, I'd be more than happy to provide instructions for adjusting the volume of one's speech to different situations. It'd go something like follows: i) When outdoors, use what you would consider an "indoors voice." ii) When indoors, use what you would consider a "library voice." iii) When in the library, shut the fuck up. Pretty simple, huh?

The American economy would collapse if people stopped living on takeaway meals and coffees. I have never seen people so comfortable dishing out $20-50 per day for food they don't like and coffee they don't need. I mean, I'm not even able to get out of bed without several cups of coffee in the morning but I'd find it really hard to justify a $10 daily budget for iced-mocha-swirly lattes and another $10 for dumplings, when you can just pack a sandwich. The number of students able to afford this kind of lifestyle is just astounding. (This is Columbia, I am aware that the people without trust funds constitute a minority.) I feel positively frugal with my leftover lunches and thermos bottle of coffee (this week it's Donut Shop Roast, which disappointingly does not taste like donuts).

Americans like to think of themselves as libertarians and are famously opposed to state-imposed regulation—but I've never felt as regulated and rule-bound as I have here. It's just that the rules aren't handed down by government officials but by the various enterprises, including private businesses and universities (the latter is included in the former but deserves a honorary mention of its own), who would rather impose elaborate codes of conduct than leave people to their common senses and be sued when something inevitably happens. As one particularly pointless example, I have to complete an online covid-symptom checklist every morning before I'm allowed to enter campus—a "Daily Attestation," it's called—where I solemnly swear that I did not have a cough or a sore throat that morning, either. The only conceivable purpose of this useless exercise is to ensure that if somebody does show up on campus sneezing and wheezing their viral particles around, Columbia can't sued for not having done everything in its power to prevent the virus from spreading. Airing out rooms, though, is strictly out of the question—presumably because it's against some other rule designed to stop students from committing suicide by jumping out a third-floor window. As a person who is physiologically unable to follow pointless rules, I find this kind of self-serving, counter-logical box ticking absolutely infuriating.

It's not all bad, though. Yesterday I went to a Japanese jazz speakeasy around Midtown. We had to stand in line for about an hour, between a group of 17-year-old musical theater majors and 27-year-old jazz enthusiasts. The former were bursting out in spontaneous, perfectly synchronized song every few minutes, the latter were debating scales or keys or some such—I'm telling you, it was like walking into a badly-written scene of Glee. It was worth it though. At one point, during a several-minute-long drum solo, I experienced what can only be described as a moment of pure transcendence. People were all around me were yelling over the music and gesticulating wildly and, for a few seconds, time compressed to something graspable; a thing crackling with energy. An oceanic feeling is, in the words of turn-of-the-century mystic Romain Rolland, “a spontaneous … feeling of the ‘eternal’ (which can very well not be eternal, but simply without perceptible limits, and like oceanic, as it were).” If eternity can be found in a midtown basement, Manhattan can’t be all bad. (Below a video clip I took discreetly when entering.)

P.s. A friend of mine said that I should write an Alexis de Tocqueville -type report about my time in America, which explains the title of this post. For the literary agents and non-fiction editors reading this blog (jk, apparently it's my mum and three of her friends who read these entries—hi!!!), you can email me at sonjaohno at gmail dot com for a book deal.

#manhattan #midtown #sonja travels #nyc #america #alexis de tocqueville #oceanic feeling #romain rolland

[herstoryherlegacy]

Expect the unexpected

(Trigger warning - lots of throw ups)

This has never really been my motto. Most things in my life have been expected or I’ve had signs pointed out to me that gives me a hint of what lies ahead. I was not expecting to be in the ER tonight. Actually I was just about to put my makeup on and do a lovely couples photoshoot with my husband when I got the call to come to the ER for possible blood clot in my lungs. Let me back up..

I had been healing from my port placement 3 days ago. Yesterday I was texting Juan updates on how I was feeling. I’m extremely thankful he was so diligent on checking in on me. My main concern was the tightness in my chest, pressure where the port is. I couldn’t take a deep breath. I felt better resting. I had even been doing light housework to stay up and active. Today he checked in again. The chest pressure was better. I could actually take a deep breath with little to no problem. Fast forward to this afternoon. I had went down to my best friend Sam’s salon to get my hair styled for my photoshoot. She’s on the 2nd floor and we took the stairs. My favorite part. I hadn’t exercised since my diagnosis and it’s been killing me. I was so active. Upon reaching the 2nd floor which was not far, I was winded. I text Juan letting him know, and he didn’t respond right away. I sat down, caught my breath, and got my hair done. As soon as I parked at home Juan called. He was consulting his doctor and advised I go in ASAP to an urgent care to be seen. I needed an x-ray, EKG, oxygen levels checked to rule out a possible blood clot in the lungs. Fuck me..

Disappointed to say the least. I walked into my home filled with laughter from my girls and their cousins, everyone gathered at the table for a meal, my in laws were visiting. All I could say was, we have to go to urgent care. I didn’t even kiss my babies goodbye 😕 I said goodbye to them but not thinking I wouldn’t be back tonight didn’t cross my mind. Now I wish I had. I arrived at a local urgent care before closing and the first thing I noticed in the lobby were vases of fake sunflowers. By pure coincidence, I use a sunflower background when I update my stories about my disease. I immediately knew this was God’s way of telling me he was with me and that I would be okay. I went into a room to be evaluated, and guess what kind of shoes the nurse was wearing? I’d never seen these before, but white vans with yellow sunflowers all over. There are no coincidences! However I wasn’t helped and was told to go to the ER.

No one likes to be in the ER, especially not right now. I had labs drawn, and an x-ray which showed proper placement of the port. Luckily Juan was here working and able to be there for my x-ray. He came to see me once more before he left to tell me he was going to communicate with the doctor about my CT and insulin complications. I had mentioned I was waiting for my husband to bring my charger because I was basically on E, and he graciously went to retrieve his charger to give to me. So extremely thankful for that gesture because alone, with no connection to my family in this place, is NOT the business. A charged phone is a precious lifeline so please always keep yours charged! So now..I wait for the CT.

I had been moved all over that ER. First I came to a bed and talked with a nurse. Then another nurse came in demanding she needed the bed. Once I was done I was booted off that bed so fast and into a chair in a hallway. The place was littered with sick people inside and outside rooms. It was so sad and crowded. I do believe I was mixed with both normal sick people and possible covid patients. To say I was nervous is an understatement. Back and forth I went between rooms, chairs, main waiting room, and scans. The longest wait was waiting to have my CT scan. I was in a room with chemo type reclining chairs. This poor girl in front of me was dealing with pain, bad. I felt so sorry for her. She was doing a good job being quiet but her face and body language looked like she was in active labor, though she was not. After watching I assumed she was suffering some sort of abdominal pain. When it was just us two, I didn’t want to make her talk, but I told her that I didn’t know what she was going through but that I was going to cover her in prayer. Her eyes lit up. She said thank you a bunch and I just assured her that I had her taken care of. I prayed with healing words. No matter what situation I’m in, I would never turn down the opportunity to put myself aside and pray for someone else who needed it more. I have failed this test before many times being too shy to pray, but you never know how those simple words of offering someone prayer may help them feel better. I wanted to cry, yeah I was in here for a possible life threatening issue, but I was nowhere as bad off as these people.

So I prayed for her, and eventually it was my turn to go to my CT. I had an IV put in, flushed, and had 3 medications to help me with my scan. One was Benadryl. I was actually glad to have it because I’ll be receiving it in my Pre-chemo cocktail and I wasn’t sure how I would feel on it. Yes it made me woozy immediately, but it was tolerable. Almost enjoyable in the correct setting. Waiting again, and was wheeled over by this super nice guy who eased the stress with good conversation. If you’ve ever done an MRI with contrast..it’s a fucking insane feeling. I laid down, the nurse flushed my IV and added the contrast. She loaded me in and waited a few minutes for it to kick in. I was in the machine for another few minutes and immediately when I was done I felt the warm rush. I’ve previously been warned it makes you feel really warm and almost like you’ve pee’d yourself. Thank god they reminded me because the warm sensation is explosive. It simultaneously felt like hot water was exploding from both my chest outward and my crotch 😂 indeed I clenched my body in case I did pee, but that’s exactly how it felt!!! So odd. Off to wait again for the results. This is where it for torturous. I am SO thankful for my AirPods and this charger. I have a very sensitive trigger to throwing up. Myself, other people, I can’t handle it. I actually did a good job this last week because both my girls got a virus, and I wasn’t second hand nauseous at all, that’s a victory. But in this ER literally 90% of the patients were vomiting 😑 I cranked those air pods to the max to drown out the sound. Closed my eyes. I don’t want what they got. So I’m in the big chair room again, my poor friend comes back in. Still in pain desperate for relief. Then another person, and another until the whole room was filled with us 5 people. 3/5 with vomiting 😕. Poor baby I prayed for got sick first, she was telling a nurse she was getting sick from the pain itself. Then the girl directly next to me. As she was getting her IV meds she started to get sick. It was a constant rush of nurses trying to get those sick bags in time..bless their quickness. I winced and turned to my left as to avoid being there. There wasn’t anywhere I could go where I wasn’t in the direct line of someone getting sick. I was miserable. Benadryl still kicking, I tried to nap, but had to keep my eyes open waiting for my name to be called. Eventually the time came, I was put in a draw chair outside the big chair room and my doctor read me the good news! I had my IV’s taken out and asked if they wanted me to go back into the big chair room (I don’t want to hog the draw chair in case someone needed it) and he said sure, just as I stood up the first poor girl started wrenching and I said “you know what I’ll stay here” and with a laugh the nurse walked back to their station and printed my discharge papers. I was R E L I E V E D. I was as calm in this situation as I needed to be, panicking and stressing weren’t going to help me. Easier said than done, to just not stress, but knowing how much trauma your body goes through WHEN you stress, it just wasn’t going to work in my favor. I came home famished, ate my dinner at 11:30pm, followed by a bag of popcorn, followed by a small serving of ice cream. Then my blood sugars sky rocketed all night 🙃 eh, not a good thing but I will hopefully have that very taken care of soon. Praise God nothing came out of this, each day has its own surprises, not all good, but also not all bad. The day started well with me sharing that my CT showed no cancer anywhere else in my body. This is EXTREMELY good news, and ended with me in the ER. You just never know how things will play out. So hug your kids, tell them you love them, do something fun. Enjoy the day given, because in a flash it could all be taken away ✌🏻

#cancer #emergency room #sunflowers #godisgood

[belovedrival]

“It’s Jonas.”

It’s been almost six months but I did say I would talk about my experience, so here goes...

(It’s really long, I started this draft when Jonas was three months old)

I was told that I would be induced on March 10, a Wednesday. My due date was the 17th but baby had been measuring large for months so my doctor just wanted to go ahead with it. I agreed. We’d made it to 39 weeks and that was good. Plus, I felt huge and just...done with being pregnant. 

I worked (from home) on the 10th. It felt sort of surreal, knowing that we’d be at the hospital at 5 pm that evening, but I knew I needed to work to keep my mind off what was coming. For a while, at least. 

We’d started packing the hospital bags for weeks before. I’d left my suitcase open next to the bed and I’d throw things in there whenever I’d do laundry or think of something else I wanted to take. I sort of knew then that I was majorly overpacking (and in hindsight it’s laughable how much stuff I never wore/used) but at least we were prepared, right?

Yeah, about that...

Mister drove to the hospital. Since I was being induced, it wasn’t any frenetic, movie scene type, panicked dad experience. We just put our things in the car and drove there. On the way we talked about how strange it was, knowing that when we came home (God willing), there would be a baby in the car seat. Of course at that time we still didn’t know if our baby was a girl or boy.

(Mister told me later that he was almost certain baby was a boy. He said he’d heard too many nurses/medical personnel ‘slip’ while we were having ultrasounds and whatnot.)

People can choose to find out or not, but it puts a whole other dimension on the experience when you don’t know in advance. Just my two cents.

As we turned into the hospital parking lot, Mister told me to open the glove box. “There’s something for you in there,” he said. I opened it, trying to swallow the bowling ball that had lodged itself in my throat.

“Oh!” I said. “What I always wanted - an owner’s manual!”

When I’m nervous, I often joke.

There was a small white box next to the owner’s manual. In it was a necklace with an aquamarine pendant; one of the birthstones for March. Of course I cried.

We took an obligatory selfie before going inside the hospital. After getting checked in, we went to our room. I remember thinking that we’d only be in that room probably a day, and that 24 hours later, we’d be upstairs post delivery.

Ha. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!

I was given a drug to start labor (not pitocin). I’ve always hated needles and so getting an IV was not part of my top 100,000 Things I Love to Do List. Thankfully, the nurse who put it in was really good, so I barely felt anything. 

The one major memory of this whole experience (other than Jonas, of course) was how good the nurses were. I am forever grateful to them. 

Other than the IV and monitors, Mister having to sleep on the sofa, and me laying on a hospital bed, we could almost trick ourselves into imagining we were staying at some sort of hotel. Almost. For a few hours, anyway.

Wednesday night into Thursday morning was okay. I was feeling persistent pain. It wasn’t terrible, just uncomfortable, and I knew that it was part of the process. I didn’t sleep great but I was able to get some rest.

Around six o’clock there was a shift change, and my nurse for the day came in. Liz had a kind of cheerleader vibe about her, very positive, and in some other circumstances I might’ve found her annoying. But I liked her.

My doctor came in a little after seven and broke my water. That experience was...weird. I mean, it was a new experience for me, so it’s hard to describe. Uh, water is wet, so it was wet? Honestly, the thing I remember the most is that there was some meconium after Doc broke my water, which worried me a little. Baby was doing fine and no one seemed super worried, so I set it aside. I DID think it meant I was guaranteed to have the baby that day. How wrong I was, and not for the first time...

They gave me pitocin after my water was broken. So my contractions increased. It felt more like strong period cramps to me. I should say at this point that I have a high pain tolerance. I don’t know what the same level of contractions would feel like to someone else. Sometimes I was only mildly aware that I was having them. 

Probably one of the most annoying things about my entire experience Wednesday/Thursday/into Friday was not being allowed to eat anything. I had ice chips, and water, and Liz managed to get me some Jello. This was actually something of an issue, because I had gestational diabetes, so at first nobody wanted to give me anything except for sugar-free Jello. I did have some of that, but as the day wore on and there wasn’t much progress, Liz talked to somebody and got me some regular Jello. I would’ve preferred something else, but Jello was what I was allowed, so Jello I got.

I...don’t really like Jello. Seriously, like if it’s the only thing, I’ll eat it, but...yeah.

The hours ticked by. Progress was slow. At first I looked forward to Liz and the other nurses coming in and checking me, but by late afternoon, it was clear that things were slooooooow. The best part of Thursday was sometime in the afternoon Liz suggested bouncing on the ball. I was really happy to get out of bed and bounce for a while. After doing that, I decided it was time for the epidural.

I’d decided beforehand I wanted an epidural. As I said, I absolutely hate needles, but I also didn’t want my body to be so stressed that labor couldn’t progress. In the back of my mind, I also thought that if the situation changed, and a c-section became necessary, the epidural would already be in place. 

After the epidural was put in, I started shaking on the edge of the bed, tears rolling down my face. Liz was still holding on to me, and Mister was there, and they both asked what was wrong. I couldn’t speak for a minute. It felt a little like I was five years old, still terrified of that darn needle, and all the tension I’d suppressed had to get out somehow.

“It’s okay,” Liz said, giving me a hug. Sometimes that’s all that’s needed. I was sorry to see her go when her shift ended. She said she was working again on Saturday and that she’d stop by to see us after the baby was born, to see what we were having. (She did stop by.)

This was a constant refrain from most of the nurses: upon first coming into the room, and looking at the white board that had my information and seeing next to “Baby” was written “Surprise!!” we inevitably got the question, “You don’t know what you’re having? That’s awesome!” 

Getting the epidural made the pain diminish, but it also made things more complicated for me because I couldn’t move. Overnight, a tag team of nurses turned me one way and the other, and checked me. 

(I should also mention that all of the staff at the hospital had already been vaccinated, and they all wore masks into the rooms. We did not have to wear masks in the room, but if we went outside it, they were required.)

By Thursday night, both Mister and I were feeling rather discouraged. All day Thursday we’d been told that baby would come “by the afternoon”, then “by the evening”, and then late Thursday, “by Friday morning”. Bear in mind that I’d been on an IV/ induced since roughly six pm on Wednesday. 

Maybe this sounds laughable to people who’ve had 72 hour long labors, but I’d been mentally prepared for around 24 hours of labor. My twin sister had been induced with her first, and her labor had gone about that long. Around midnight on Thursday I was feeling pretty discouraged. Mister wasn’t angry but he said (when we were alone) that he felt like the staff had been overly optimistic. I just don’t think either of us had thought about the implications of me being induced without any sign of active labor. In hindsight, I was glad it was done then, but...yeah. Not being mentally prepared for that long of a labor was hard. I felt bad for everyone who was waiting on updates; it felt like literally nothing happened for about thirty hours. Like I think was dilated to five by Friday morning. And effaced? Practically nothing. My cervix wasn’t getting thinner at all.

Early Friday morning, a new nurse started her shift. My first impressions of Diana were...well, I thought, “she’s definitely not as friendly as Liz.” She was more brusque. As I hadn’t slept much Thursday night, and having been in the same situation for over a day, I didn’t care nearly as much about making friends. By that point I was tired - physically, mentally, emotionally.

But Diana was awesome. She got me turned onto my hands and knees, and had me start doing some vigorous exercises, to really move labor along. I was fine with doing whatever she said because I was REALLY ready to be done. So it felt a little like my cross country days in high school, at the finish of a difficult race. I was tired, I wasn’t sure how much I could do physically, but we had a GOAL and dammit, we were going to do everything to get there!

By late morning, even after the exercises, I was still dilated at a five. Hardly effaced at all. After checking me again, Diana left the room. The option of a c-section had been discussed, especially since it was over 24 hours since my water had been broken.

“I think I’m done,” I said to Mister. Even though I’d never really been 100% ‘I want a natural birth experience’, it felt a little like giving up. I started crying again. “I just don’t think this [natural labor] is going to work. I’m done.”

“If you’re done, that’s it,” Mister said. “Tell Diana you want a c-section.”

I have to say something here about Mister. Even though he kept saying he didn’t know what he was doing or how he should support me, he was AWESOME. He supported every decision, and listened to me talk about the different options. For as hard as labor was for me, I think he had a different hard time. All he could do was literally sit there and watch me go through pain and doubt and fear, and comfort me as best he could. He was a great comfort.

(This is why even if thoughtful partners don’t think they’re doing a good job at supporting laboring moms, they most likely are. Their presence is invaluable. For anyone who doesn’t have a supportive partner with them, or an absent one, my profound condolences.)

When Diana came back in, I told her I wanted a c-section. This was around 11 o’clock Friday morning, March 12th. “I agree,” she said right away, patting me on the shoulder. “You’ve done everything you possibly can to get this baby delivered naturally. I trust mom’s instincts on this.”

Her support meant so much. Really, when a veteran nurse says they trust your instinct, how can you not feel better about your decision?

She left to contact my doctor and several other people, and Mister let people know what was going on. At that point I was more relieved that soon it would be over. I wanted to see our baby.

Mister said later that he learned that hospitals have two speeds: 1) we’re in no rush; and 2) something is going to happen NOW. While my c-section wasn’t an emergency, once the decision was made, things did happen fast. Diana brought the anesthesiologist into the room so he could numb me up. As I already had the epidural, this didn’t take very long. After a few minutes of letting the medication work, Bryce asked if I could feel my toes.

“No,” I said. It was weird. I knew I shouldn’t feel them, but I couldn’t help saying, “I’m trying to wiggle them!”

“No, no, it’s good you can’t feel them,” both Bryce and Mister said. I was wheeled out of the labor room a few minutes after that (I was not sorry to leave it) and taken to the OR. Mister went with someone else to take our stuff to the recovery room.

I’ve been in operating rooms before. They aren’t places that make me want to stay there. Bright lights, metal everywhere, many thoughts of what could go wrong...although I will say that all the staff in the OR made me feel confident. I was glad to see my doctor. 

I felt better once I was in the OR (the only time in my life I’ve ever felt that way) but it felt like a long time until Mister arrived in there. He’d gone with a member of staff as they took all our stuff to a recovery room, then been taken to the OR. Once he was in place, everything started.

Doctor M had asked me before Mister arrived if he wanted to ‘announce’ was the baby was. I told her that he most likely would, but to ask him. She did, and he said yes, he’d love to do that.

There was a blue sheet in front of me so I really couldn’t see anything that went on - which was PERFECTLY FINE with me.

Obviously, I was flat on my back, and everything below my chest was numb. The doctor and others asked me at various times if I felt anything, and I didn’t (other than tugging and pulling). At one point, I suddenly smelled the unmistakable scent of something burning. “What is that? That burning smell?” I asked, glancing above me (really, behind me) at Bryce, who stood there.

“I’ll tell you later,” he said.

Which immediately told me I didn’t want to know what it was. 

Yeah, it was me burning, while the medical staff cauterized me, keeping me from bleeding to death.

(The fact that cesarean sections are major surgery, and regularly happen every day in the United States, is, frankly, a miracle. Everyone hears about the horror stories when something goes wrong, but considering the number of women who go through them without incident, we as a society completely take them for granted.)

As the tugging and pulling continued, and Doctor M said things like, “there’s the head”, the sense of anticipation increased. I’ve never felt anything like it before. Both Mister and I knew any moment we would meet our baby, and after waiting 39 weeks (and eight years before that), it was almost unbearable.

Doctor M said, “Here’s the baby!”

I heard a slight cry, and I looked up at Mister, who sat on my right, holding my hand. He looked down at me and said, “It’s Jonas.”

Even thinking about that moment now brings tears to my eyes. In knowing Mister almost eleven years, I’ve only seen him cry maybe five times. Including this year, on March 12th. We both were bawling, and laughing at the same time, as Jonas VERY loudly screamed his disapproval at being evicted from his warm, cozy space. At one point, Mister, laughing as he cried said, “One of the ---s (our last name) needs to stop crying in here!”

He has a rather husky cry, Jonas does. I loved his cry from the moment I first heard it (though I don’t actually like to hear him cry, if that makes any sense).

As I was sewn up, Mister moved his chair over to where our baby was, under a heat lamp. Then he brought Jonas over to me. My first thought was, he’s HUGE. My second thought was, he was the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen.

He weighed nine pounds, five ounces at birth, and had a fifteen inch head circumference. After I heard that, I knew a natural birth was never going to happen. He was born on Friday the 12th of March, at 1:14 pm. The digital clock on the wall said 13:14, which I thought was cool. And it made it a bit easier to remember the time :)

He had lots of dark hair, which I loved. My sister’s had bald babies, so it was nice to have a different-looking kid. Over the last few months, his hair almost entirely disappeared due to cradle cap, and is coming back in...blond. Genetics!

I can say now that it’s past, that I was more afraid during pregnancy than I could admit to anyone, even Mister. I have always been a worrier, and finally being pregnant after so many years, and being high risk due to my age (and my shunt, and the gestational diabetes...) I was in almost constant worry of something going wrong. First of miscarriage (no one needed to tell me of the statistics regarding older mothers), then of stillbirth, like the cord getting wrapped around baby’s neck, and death happening before delivery could happen. I have heard of at least two different stories of that happening to pregnant women in the ninth month - friends of friends of mine - and the fear of that, or something else equally catastrophic happening was, at times, almost crippling. I would’ve preferred to have never been pregnant at all rather than suffer a miscarriage or stillbirth. 

Perhaps it sounds childish, but mentally I didn’t think I was strong enough to have the dream of motherhood dashed, when every day of pregnancy brought that dream closer. I was (and still am) too much of a realist to ignore the statistics; I couldn’t pretend I was 22 and have a blissfully ignorant uneventful pregnancy. To this day, even after giving birth to a healthy baby, one of the biggest things that will set me off is the assumption that way too many people have. “We’re planning on getting pregnant soon.” “Just have kids, you’ll understand.” “I can take you out and make one just like you.” [a redneck phrase I’ve heard being said to a misbehaving child]

Not many of us can “plan” on getting pregnant exactly when we want to - or even within a year’s time. Not all of us can “just have kids” - they’re not like going to the store and getting a gallon of milk. (I recognize the privilege of living in a society where going to the store and expecting fresh milk can also sound arrogant to those who don’t live in one.) ‘Take out’ a kid (even said in jest), and ‘make another one’? I MIGHT have another child in the next couple years. More likely, I won’t. Not all of us can just get pregnant at the drop of a hat. (That’s assuming the one wanting to get pregnant even has a male partner or sperm donor at the ready...some never find that person to have a child with. And adoption can be a great thing, but not everyone is cut out for it. Shaming infertile and childless people for not wanting to adopt is disgusting.)

I was open with my OB-GYN about my fears during pregnancy and she referred me to several resources, and monitored me for PPD. My best friend’s son died in March 2020, a year before Jonas was born (though Billy had severe disabilities which made his death a certain thing), and my sister had had a stillborn son in August 2019 (my nephew Christian). So Jonas being born healthy was a huge relief for me. I can’t really describe the relief, except to say that as much physical weight I gained during pregnancy, letting go of the weight of the worry was felt even more deeply than losing the pounds since his birth (and I’ve haven’t lost all of that).

I will probably always worry about *something*, when it comes to Jonas. He gave me a scare earlier this week, rolling off the couch before I could catch him. He’s fine...and the incident scared me more than it scared him. But every day since he was born is a reminder of the gift he is, and I hope I never lose sight of that, even on the frustrating days (and there have been those over the last almost six months, and there will be more to come).

If you ever wanted children, and are fortunate enough to have them, cherish them. Be grateful for them, even when they drive you up the wall. Even when you only want three minutes’ peace, and they won’t give it to you. Love them anyway. I try to.  

#this was heavier than i thought it would be #don't get me wrong #i had a good experience overall #nurses are awesome #nurses #hospital #birth #birthday #march 12 #jonas #2021 #life #real life #family #me and mister #mister #he's great #pregnancy #parenthood

[mollydollyjournals]

It's March 2nd and I'm 157lbs. I'm on my period so that's partly to blame, but then there's also the fact that I drank quite a bit on Feb 28th, and binged. A lot.

I decided I'm going to try to do 30 days of no alcohol. Or maybe all of March, idk. Given that the last day I drank was the day before march 1st it's kind of nicely rounded off so I'll see. But realistically, it's a really long time for me. I might only make it a week. Who knows. I want to say something to my friends and properly document if and stuff, but I'm afraid of failing. I'm already known for being flaky and not following through. I don't want people to just never take me seriously. I even feel nervous about that here, but I should remember this is literally supposed to be an anonymous blog where I can talk about the stuff that troubles me that I can't talk about elsewhere. Alcohol will also tie into food and weight stuff anyway.

I can't remember what I last said here...I know I said about doing loads of cleaning as a workout, and that I wasn't sure if I should try a higher intake with more exercise seeing as I never actually lose anything. Anyway, that. And also that Im basically permanently on a higher antidepressant dose now, which helps me with my energy levels. I hope it doesn't fuck with my metabolism too much more.

So I bought an A5 ring binder planner thing and I decided to use it as a proper weight loss and food diary. They're so damn expensive - I normally get scrapbooks or sketchbooks and use them as kind of joint planner/journal/sketchbook/whatever, but I wanted something where I could easily rearrange the pages. I love cute stationery so whenever I need to motivate myself to do something it's always good for me to do something decorative.

I think I'm going to base the contents kind of on something like this but I want a different look to it and also some different actual contents. I also won't commit to 90 days because I know I do better with smaller increments, and 30 days is already a lot. Or 31 or whatever. I really love the look of Milkjoy planners but they only make them in A6, and sometimes they have sweets as decorative stuff, which I love but I don't want anything that might make me crave junk food. So I'm staying away from food motifs unless it's lemons or carrots or something.

I'm going to have an initial section with info and stuff to reference, so I'll have a list of meal ideas and their nutritional info, a collection of recipes, a place to write out a weekly meal plan (and maybe make a grocery list? But I tend to use my phone for that irl so maybe I won't bother), and a list of various workouts that I could do. Then something relevant to me like nutritional goals (eg calorie limits, protein etc) and places to record my weight, measurements, body fat, overview stuff like that. Then the daily pages with all the stuff I want to do each day and whether I actually do them, weight, food intake etc. Maybe a recap page at the end of each week.

I'm also tempted to put a thinspo section in my info bit at the front, but to do that I'd have to arrange a load of photos to be printed and actually go print them out. My laptop is kind of dead so it'd have to be from my phone which I don't like doing. But then also if I'm gonna keep doing this sort of planner I'd like to draw myself up some proper graphics to print out so I'd have to print stuff anyway eventually. But then to do that I need my laptop working. Idk.

So. It's really my last chance to make any kind of change before my birthday. I feel like I should just push harder at restriction and stuff, but recent experience tells me that's not working. I kind of have nothing to lose (except 52lbs) by trying something else. The idea is I go for a standard "diet" amount of food, so like in the 1000-1500 range, but I do a lot more exercise. This is kind of what I meant to do when I first started this account, but I'll have more exercise this time. When I started this page all I could do was light cardio (see Reps to the Rhythm on YouTube, he's great for when you can't do intense workouts but want to do something) and light stretches and just all light stuff - now with less alcohol and more Prozac I'm able to do a lot more. At least I hope I still am. Going by the cleaning and stuff I did recently, I think I can start doing more in terms of workouts. Idk. I'll have a base amount of food to eat and only eat more if I start getting too weak or tired to do my workouts - essentially, the priority will be having the energy to exercise, rather than restricting my intake.

This is why staying away from alcohol will tie into it a lot. I'm past bad withdrawals so at this point not drinking will help my energy levels and metabolism etc. Today is the 2nd day since I drank, and I don't feel terrible, which means I haven't made myself really sick again. Thank fuck. I drank too much and I started feeling not great and I was scared I'd fucked up again. Last time it took 2 days for me to get really ill so I've been nervous. But I think I'm past the risk zone now.

I do still feel sick and a bit tired. But I think that's also due to my period. I always feel terrible on my period. I'm going to do what I can but I need to know not to push myself too much. If I do that I get exhausted and have to rest and recover and it ends up worse than if I just stayed gentle with myself. Today Ive put my laundry up to dry and I'll try to do something else again later, idk what. But I'll also keep building my planner. All these bits of advice to myself will go into it. I'll write out all the stuff I've been thinking so that it's all in one place and I don't have to remember it all or go between different sites and pages looking for it. I'll move some things around in my studio and make space for my exercise bike because I think I can start on that again soon, and space for proper upper body workouts. I might even set up a PS2 in the lounge so I can play DDR again. Idc what year it is, that is the best HIIT I've ever done and I miss it and I lost so much weight when I used to play it. So I should build myself up to be able to do loads of exercise and see how my body changes - I know that even if I don't lose weight, I'll look better and less flabby and gross. But we'll see how that all goes.

#minus50 ref

[hownot2doit]

1

Twenty-ish years before the clinic, a year or two before the Twin Towers fell

Night shift at the factory. I considered myself recovered at this point (which means nothing. By age thirty, de Nile wasn’t just some river in Egypt but my most profound modus operandi.) I truly never expected to live to see 30; when I arrived I had no idea what to do, had made no plans. So there I was in a factory. It was depressing and I ate myself silly, never connecting the dots that my binge eating was no different than anorexia or bulimia – it was just a new, unfamiliar band-aid for the same old wound.

But I did find a friend, there. Around my age, from around my area; we had even hung around some of the same people. For the first time there was someone interested in, at the same time I was willing to talk about, my eating disorder and the month I spent in a hospital ward for treatment. I’d never met anyone so comfortable with, nor so eager for, the most mundane details. That did trigger an instinctual alarm, but even if I’d known to listen, the denial I was in regarding my own eating disorder blinded me to what I was seeing in front of my own eyes: the more I talked, the more she shrank.

I doubted my vision until starvation affected the way she spoke, thought, reacted, communicated, behaved, et cetera, et cetera. By that point her friends were comparing notes trying to tease out the truth to give us direction. For instance: the “ice cream” she claimed (to Friend A) to “pig out on” nightly was (according to Friend B’s peek into her freezer) actually zero-fat, zero-sugar, zero-nutrition, synthetically flavored air called “frozen whipped topping.” On the outside, as a “recovered” eating disorder survivor, I took on the role of expert; calming, explaining and guiding our circle of friends. On the inside I wrecked. I felt left out. I felt tricked (why had I listened to people telling me starving didn’t work? obviously they were wrong, for here she was right in front of me, with the sticks for arms and legs that I coveted, instead of my own squishy, bloated limbs.) While I paid lip-service to health and common sense, my heart condemned my failing, letting myself grow layers upon layers of padding. And I misinterpreted all of my own feelings as competitiveness. What I was able to comprehend was that I could not deal with her anorexia in a healthy way.

I had a coping skill. One. A real one – not one involving my body or what I put in it. (This part usually seems to surprise people, now, knowing only the devolved state I’ve been currently living in.) I could write. I wrote my friend a letter, explaining as kindly and respectfully as I could, my fears for myself and her that led me to give her an ultimatum: get treatment or I cannot be friends with you. Though we were never close, again, she did leave for the nearest eating disorders clinic.

When she returned a few months later, complaining they only ate frozen, microwaved food, I literally did NOT understand. “What do MEAN there’s no stoves?” I asked. There’s no such a thing as a kitchen without a stove. She may as well have said they fed her green eggs and ham. There’s no such thing. So she repeated herself: “There’s no stoves. There are two kitchens and neither one has a stove. It’s all microwaved. There’s, like, dozens of microwaves.” What?! No way! I told our friends not to believe her because no eating disorder treatment center would feed malnourished people that way. Even back then in the late 90s, before nutrition science, as with all other sciences, practically exploded with new and newer discoveries, we were starting to catch on that mass-produced, preprocessed, chemically-preserved-to-withstand-Armaggedon food was detrimental to our general health. So her claim that a group of clinical experts deliberately fed one of the most malnourished populations like that could not be true. I said it was probably a couple of special “challenge” meals that angered her.

I

was

WRONG.

SOOO wrong.

(Though it was 20 more years before I learned HOW wrong I was.)

When she revealed her clinic was in the same city as my hospital program it made me so excited that it startled and scared me. (Yes, my feelings frighten me.) (I’m Super Fun like that.) In the decade since I’d been a patient, there, “Managed Care” happened, and my old hospital program had vanished into thin air (no pun intended.) I automatically assumed her clinic was where my treatment team landed – because it’s not a big big city and – it was the only specialized program in a rather large tristate area. BUT. That immediate hopeful flash of excitement didn’t just scare me, it confused me, because I wasn’t sick, though I was sure I was pretty messed up to be excited about an eating disorders treatment center.

But you see, about that part where I called myself a “recovered” eating disorder survivor? Well, that whole time I had been doing exactly what my friend had been doing. starving. It just didn’t look like it because I was so overweight. We were in different stages of the same disease; a year before, she had looked like me; a year later, I looked like her. But according to the DSM IV (the most current diagnostic tool at the time): a) I was too fat to be anorexic because you had to be at least 15% UNDERweight and I was more than 15% OVERweight b) I didn’t purge at least twice a week for at least 3 months because there was nothing to purge I didn’t look sick like my friend when I ate, either, because I had been sick for so long my eating habits were even weirder. Instead of inhaling buckets of cool, whipped, artificially flavored air, I would eat an entire bag of cheese puffs. All night long. For eight hours. And I would exercise all of the calories off before my next shift/bag. (And for which I suddenly developed a craving until I saw this video that made me retitle this post: https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/a-brief-history-of-the-cheese-curl-junk-foods-happiest-accident

I was not aware of how sick I was or of why I was so desperate to learn where my friend went. I only knew it was imperative I found out and imperative that no one else found out how imperative it was that I found out. Buuuut, not only did I give my friend an ultimatum to enter treatment, then, when she got back, I didn’t believe her. Yeah. She was angry. Also, since I wasn’t sick, it was imperative I didn’t look or sound sick. So, very, very carefully, I tried very hard to inquire as casually as I could, “where, again, did you go, again?”

“River Centre Clinic.” Says she.

“Never heard of it,” says I, very casually shrugging, and shaking my head, trying very hard to feel as cavalier as I was trying to look and sound.

Never forgot it, either.

#eating disorder #eating disorders #eating disorder treatment #eating disorder recovery #anorexia #bulimia #osfed #arfid #ed treatment #ed therapy #ed recovery #River Centre Clinic #Toledo Center for Eating Disorders #anorexia recovery #bulimia recovery #osfed recovery #binge eating disorder recovery #arfid recovery #9/11