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sarahlynnirl · 3 years

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Losing my best friend - Sugar Daddy culture is not empowering

I finally feel strong enough to talk about this and hopefully get some love, support, and reassurance from other women who agree that this is fucked up. I’ve never been “terfy on main” before so here goes. (TW child abuse + SA but no graphic descriptions of SA)

My mother is a narcissist who financially and emotionally abused my father and myself, with some additional physical abuse of me, for as long as I can remember. My dad made plenty of money but my mom controlled it all and made sure it didn’t go towards anything for me beyond the bare minimum required not to look obviously guilty of child abuse and neglect. I met Kiara (not her real name) when I was a junior in highschool and she was a freshman. Her mom was a single Korean woman doing her best to support Kiara and her 2 sisters while also running a Korean restaurant. My first jobs were a summer camp counselor and fitting room attendant at Forever 21. I would spend the last scraps of my paycheck making sure Kiara was able to order a full meal when our friends went out to dinner, buying her little gifts, and generally trying to keep us both as happy and healthy as possible.

When Kiara graduated highschool her mom drove her into Koreatown New Jersey, got her a room in the apartment of an acquaintance, and basically left her to fend for herself. Kiara spoke barely any Korean. She began working at a Korean salon where she met Ariana (not her real name). She had a NY cosmetology license, not an NJ one, while Ariana was an illegal immigrant from Korea so they were both overworked, underpaid, forced to work overtime, paid under minimum wage, and deprived of their tips. They couldn’t report or complain about this since they were both working illegally.

Kiara had to pay rent for the one room she occupied despite her land lady yelling at her, walking into her room while she slept, banning her from having friends over, and reporting to her mom if she spoke to a guy on the phone or a guy dropped her off. I was working at a restaurant in my college town on top of my classes and doing my best to keep surprising her with little gifts, but neither of us had enough disposable income to afford to visit each other. This was really difficult for me as she was my favorite person in the world and I was used to spending every second with her when we both lived in upstate NY. Ariana got them both to start using SeekingArrangement for one time meet ups with Sugar Daddies where they were paid anywhere from $200-2000 for sex. “The first time I ever did it I walked out of the hotel and just screamed because I was so disgusted and I was thinking about his wrinkly skin touching mine and all I wanted to do was get in the shower and scrub it off but I had $1000 cash in my hand for a couple hours of work which was so crazy and kinda made it all worth it ya know?” - Ariana to me

I was immediately skeptical and a little grossed out but Kiara genuinely seemed happier. She was buying new clothes for herself, ordering food to the apartment when she was hungry, and taking trips into NYC to have fun with Ariana and her friends. By the beginning of the summer of 2019, Kiara had found the Sugar Daddy who she would establish a long term agreement with and who ultimately ended up completely supporting her. I’m not going to say his name here but if people want to know it just ask, I am willing to share. He moved her into a much nicer much bigger apartment with Ariana as her roommate. He paid for me to fly up and visit her, and all of our activities during this vacation. I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m so sorry. I wish I shoved the money back in her hand before it was too late, I wish I worked harder and longer hours and got us an apartment in Florida and paid both of our rent. I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t listen to my instincts and allowed her to brush off my concerns. It was the most freedom we had ever had, I ran around NYC by myself while she was at work, and my ex took the bus to NJ from upstate NY and joined us for a few days. I feel so selfish but I also didn’t know how bad things would get.

One night Kiara and I went to NYC for dinner with her SD and she took the bus back to the apartment because she had to work early the next morning. It made sense for me to stay in the city because I was supposed to visit my friend at NYU the next morning. In the Uber to his apartment alone with him he was drunk and high and I very clearly looked scared shitless. At this point she was 19 (but she had looked that way since age 17 and I doubt he would have minded if she was lying about her age), I was 21 and he was 44. He seemed offended by my discomfort and was basically like “jeez relax I’m not gonna touch you, I really care about Kiara I think she’s so amazing, just go to the guest room and sleep, make a left to walk to NYU when you wake up.” I peaced the fuck out of there early the next morning.

After that summer Kiara and Ariana quit their jobs at the Korean salon and sugaring became their sole incomes. Ariana was still doing one time meet ups, not nearly as financially stable as Kiara, and got herself into a lot of credit card debt that to my knowledge she’s still in. At this point Kiara was flying down and staying with me in Florida so often that people at my college thought she went there too. I also wasn’t working at this point because college had gotten harder and my ex was fucking up my mental health real bad. He had given me a coke problem and Kiara sending me “grocery money” was enabling me to continue. I wasn’t honest with her about where all the money was going. During Halloween week we didn’t know that she couldn’t just snort molly (MDMA) with the frequency I was doing coke, she ODed, my guy best friend took us to the ER, it was so fucking scary, she got IV fluids for 2 hours and made a full recovery, she stopped doing molly, I kept doing coke. I’m so sorry :(

In November her SD paid for us to take a trip to Cancun Mexico. He was with us for the first part of the trip and this is where things started to get really bad. He tried to be my friend and act the way a boyfriend of my best friend who was my age would, but it was creepy and wrong and I was so uncomfortable. He asked about my drug use in a way that was gross and shamey and basically him seeing me as the “coke whore” stereotype...while continuing to buy me more coke. He also brought and gave us ecstasy pills. He asked really invasive questions about my relationship with my ex, why I stayed, my sex life, etc. It felt like an uncle asking me these questions, I did NOT wanna talk about any of this with him. But from what I did say it was very clear to someone with 44 years of life experience that I had an abusive mother, an addictive personality, and was in an unhealthy relationship. He offered to set me up with an SD friend of his looking for a sugar baby. I of course declined because I always knew this was a boundary I wasn’t willing to cross. No matter how bad my addictions got I would NOT give up that piece of myself in return for money.

In this part of Mexico, drugs that were only given with a prescription in the US were available over the counter. Kiara and I got a little box of 1mg Xanax with my money. My ex had given us Xanax a couple times in NY and we had fun with it, but at this point in time we did NOT have a problem with it. We had bought one bar, broken it in half, and each took half one night of Halloween week and called it “xanpires”, but this wasn’t something we were scripted or buying regularly from plugs. We went to dinner with her SD, we got up to go to the bathroom, and she immediately slipped and hit the ground. I was like woah did you take one of the xans and forget? Because we were supposed to tell each other if we were taking one so we could look out for each other. I was never mad at her! I never wanted money from her! I was just a little concerned, and once I determined that she was safe we thought it was kinda funny that she had taken a xan without realizing and started joking around about it. Her SD of course didn’t understand how a 19 year old and 21 year old girl joke with each other because he was a creepy old man, decided that we were “arguing”, and got up from the restaurant, walked across the street, bought a 90 count bottle of 2mg xans and gave it to me. This was honestly the most irresponsible way someone has ever treated me in my life, and this is coming from someone with an abusive and neglectful parent. Google “benzo withdrawal” if you’re not familiar with it.

We went to a different hotel, and Kiara and I both took xans and blacked out. I passed out on the guest bed, while Kiara was awake but in a conscious blackout. I woke up on the couch on the balcony (which was fine, it was comfy and I saw the sunrise over the beach. The gross part was that meant her SD had picked me up, put his hands on my body while I was unconscious and carried me out there). I remembered that at one point I had woken up, wanted to go to the bathroom or get something from inside, caught a glimpse of what I thought was them having sex, and went back outside. I mentioned it to Kiara and she had no memory of it whatsoever, she thought all she had done was gone to sleep. She was rightfully pissed the fuck off that her SD had taken advantage and done things with her while she was blacked, screamed at him, he gave us a half ass apology, and bought us more stuff (buying our silence). He finally flew home and we got to enjoy the trip with just each other, but I was careless with the dosage of a drug called tramadol, and I ODed with my head in her lap...I’m sorry. When I woke up I was hallucinating, hearing voices, crying hysterically and terrified. Kiara called my ex who asked how many mg I took, told us I was 100mg short of the amount that would require medical attention, made me laugh, and told me to go to sleep. I recognize how scary and unfair to her this was and I really do take responsibility for my actions. The day I was supposed to leave I did ecstasy, hooked up with a guy from Canada, and tried to skip my flight. She was mad because like yeah what the fuck. She got me on the flight, the ecstasy comedown hit, and there’s pictures of me crying in the airport because I hated when we fought.

I was supposed to stop in Miami, then fly back to my college town but while in Miami I texted my granny that I was “sad and really didn’t feel good and could she and my uncle visit me at the airport and bring my uncles dog?”. Her parenting instincts went off that something was very wrong, made me skip the flight, picked me up from the airport and took me to her house where I immediately threw up and ran an extremely high fever that night. She said it was one of the scariest nights of her life and she kept checking on me to see if I needed to go to the hospital. She drove me back to my college town where my guy best friend took me to the ER and it came out that Kiaras SD, in addition to giving me drugs, had also allowed me to drink Mexican tap water throughout the entire trip. I was treated for that + given chlamydia meds just in case since I’d had unprotected sex in a foreign country. I was fine, promised to do better, Kiara forgave me, things started to go back to normal. Except I had begun taking Xanax daily to deal with the anxiety of the illness...and she had a trip to Bali planned.

During that trip things managed to get even worse. She was there with her SD and another Korean friend and her SD was pressuring her and guilting her into sex, isolating her from her friend, going through her phone, and becoming extremely aggressive. She would call me crying and having panic attacks and I would walk out of class to try to comfort her over FaceTime. She did not have panic attacks before this trip. She begged to go home early because something was very wrong but he said it was a waste of money and kept her in Bali until the planned end of the trip. I think it was almost a month. She sent me a recording she secretly took of him screaming at her and her saying “don’t touch me, don’t grab me like that, leave me alone”. When she got back to the US I was begging her to stop. I was so worried for her safety. I said the money wasn’t worth it, we’ll get jobs, please just stop. I’m pretty sure he read those messages. We also had a suspicion that he had installed spyware on her phone but were never able to prove it. At this point I also reached out to my dad for help and his response was basically “I don’t care, not my problem, focus on school”. I reached out to my granny who absolutely cared, but her response was “I’m sorry but I can’t afford to support her, I have to focus on taking care of you, if she won’t stop this you’ll have to stop being friends with her”.

I went home to New York for winter break, suffered through my first round of Xanax withdrawal and was truly trying to get better but my ex manipulated his was back in my life and got me addicted again....but now this bottle of 90 had run out. I went back to my college town, got scripted, and was copping street bars when my script inevitably ran out early. What comes next is blurry for obvious reasons. We moved to the town in Florida my granny lived in and got an apartment together. The female friends she made in our town (my current home) she got most of them into sugaring and using SeekingArrangement. Things deteriorated super fast at this point. I was struggling hard, failing my online classes, and eventually got completely financially cut off by my parents. My granny was paying my half of the rent and my puppy’s vet bills but I was too embarrassed to admit I couldn’t afford groceries. Kiara was pressuring me hard to go on SeekingArrangement but I still refused. I would sit on the floor of the bathroom in a towel after I showered and just cry because the steam made me nauseous and dizzy since I wasn’t eating.

I met my current boyfriend and something just started to click: I didn’t wanna live like this anymore. The mom of a friend from this town who also refuses to sugar landed me an interview at the gym I currently work at, I fought for the job, and I got it. Now I knew I didn’t wanna be completely fucked up all the time anymore but I was still doing enough Xanax to keep me out of withdrawal. The 2mg that had blacked me out at the beginning were now just barely enough to keep me functional. Kiara and I were fighting frequently and bad by this time. She and her partner in sugaring, Mena (not her real name but pretty close to it, fuck this bitch fr) were expecting me to keep how they made their money a secret....from friends and guys that I saw every single day. They both very obviously did not work and were flexing new cars, designer clothes, and cash all over their social media. Kiara thought she could cover her ass by saying she dealt drugs but it was also obvious that she wasn’t putting the time into that to come up with the amount of money she had. The only one dealing drugs was me, and not enough to do anything flashy, just enough that in addition to my work money I was usually getting enough to eat. But there were still some times when the previous weeks paycheck had run out and I was having my first meal of the day at 3pm after someone had bought adderall from me. We had our serious serious fight where she threw my stuff in the lawn and I lived with my current boyfriend full time for about a couple weeks since my bedroom at my granny’s was getting refloored when this happened.

By January 20th he was concerned by my Xanax problem and wanted me to seriously try to stop. At the time I started tapering because I wanted the girlfriend title but I’m forever grateful for him giving me a reason, even if it was a shallow one, because I just needed to START. We tried to reconcile once, despite boyfriend and guy best friend begging me not to, and of course the same problems reappeared, we had another serious fight and haven’t spoken since.

Now the fog is clearing and today I’m 96 days clean of xanax, 16 days clean of all benzos, and 19 days clean of gabapentin (what was keeping me from having a seizure while quitting benzos). But it’s hard because being out of the fog means feeling all of my emotions, even the really bad ones. This past week I’ve been waking up and crying sitting in front of my mirror trying to put my makeup on for work and it just drips right off and I have to start over. She was my best friend for 8 years. My favorite person. My partner in life. I loved her more than anyone.

My boyfriend and guy best friend are pretty uncomfortable when they hear someone express an opinion of me that’s “Kiara’s side of the story” and I don’t correct it. Both of them saw exactly how bad it got near the very end and don’t get why I don’t defend myself more or tell people about her letting my dog eat dab (THC) wax while she was supposed to be watching her and having to be rushed to the animal hospital TWO separate times. (She’s a Pomeranian and the highly concentrated THC was super dangerous to her tiny little body). Yelling at me and giving me the silent treatment because less than 48 hours after my SA she expected me to drive her to a hair appointment in Miami and I woke up late and didn’t get her there on time with traffic. Me begging her to be there for me when it felt like everything was falling apart and I self harmed for the first time and her leaving me to go on a vacation to Orlando with a girl we didn’t even really like. Me not wanting to sleep in the apartment alone after my SA and her not letting me sleep in her bed anymore, her and Mena just dumping me at the neighbor’s so they could continue to sugar, party, and see guys our age at night (this sounds super awful but neighbors roommate —> current boyfriend. He kept me safe until I felt better, was really sweet and careful, and I was the one to make the first move). There’s more but I really don’t like talking about it, after the abuse she went through and I assume is still going through, I expect her to be pretty damaged and not have it in her to treat people right all the time. Not exposing every bad thing she’s ever done to all our mutual friends and acquaintances is kind of my last gift to her.

I also admit that sugaring wasn’t responsible for everything that went wrong. Loving an addict is difficult and exhausting and I went through it myself with my ex. I was also out bi and she was “probably straight, maybe a little bi-curious” in her words. But when she was drunk or on Xanax she’d kiss me first...we had done more than kiss but only during 3somes with a guy. I don’t know, I think I loved her more than I was supposed to and some of the stuff she’d say made me think she saw me in a way she really didn’t. When we first moved to this town I had a thing with a girl and expected it to be no big deal but things here were different than up north. I got called the d slur for the first time by someone who wasn’t joking. It was like getting slapped I was so shocked and hurt, I truly didn’t think that happened anymore. I think she saw what happened to me and kinda closed off that part of herself because she didn’t wanna experience that herself. She stopped making out with me at bars and parties after that and it made me sad and maybe a little jealous. But I really do blame her SD for basically “breaking her”, for handing me that first bottle of free Xanax, for a lot of other little things that I can’t possibly include because this is already way too long. This is my first time even saying this much. Feel free to add your own experiences or thoughts on this or anything you’d like. [I’m prepared to get death threats or called a SWERF or whatever but I don’t care, now that I started talking about this I’m not going to stop.]

#terf safe #terfs please touch #terfs please interact #radfem #radical feminists please touch #radical feminst #radical feminism #terf #swerfs please interact #swerf #anti prostitution #addiction #recovery #terfs do touch #sugardadddy

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youngvolcanoes · 3 years

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god i’m sorry to just like. log on for the first time in months and be depressing but i feel like i’m really Going Through It rn, i was hanging out with my housemates/boyfriend and just had to go to my room because i started quietly crying lol

things just feel so horrible and scary. i’m technically not unemployed and never was, but i was working on a zero hours contract and getting like 1 hour of work a week which sucks. it’s picked up a bit now and i’m working about 5 hours but i’m just finding it really hard to live/structure my days on so few hours. i can’t find anything else- there’s literally like, so few jobs, let alone ones relevant to my degree/interests which really sucks, i feel like i’m just gonna be stuck doing this for the next year.

ive probably mentioned this before but i have an Unexplained Chronic Illness and have done for over a year now. we thought it was endometriosis for ages and it still could be, but my main symptom isn’t a symptom of endometriosis and i saw a gynaecologist on thursday who basically said she doubts it’s that. the whole experience was really disheartening- it’s just so hard to be in pain every day and be so ill and keep being turned away from different specialists because they can’t work out what it is. the gynaecologist was also really condescending and rude towards me and like. randomly asked me how many sexual partners ive had and got really annoyed when i was like ‘im bisexual so i don’t know what you want me to say’ which is !!! not what you want right before you show ur genitals to a complete stranger?? also like. other physically difficult things happened because obviously being examined hurts a lot when you have chronic pain in certain areas but i won’t go into all of that. one thing i will say is that they did the silver nitrate thing and were just like ‘oh do you want silver nitrate?’ before without giving me any info on it or it’s after effects, while the examination was going on, and i’m still having pain from it even though they said it’d be uncomfortable while it’s happening.

in general my mental health has been better but i’m just so scared by all of this and finding day to day life so hard. i keep sleeping as much as i can and trying to surround myself with other people or keeping myself busy but as soon as i’m by myself, i just start crying and feeling absolutely horrible. my boyfriends really helpful and lovely i’m so lucky to have him but he’s doing way, way too much for me right now and i feel really guilty about it. the whole things making me really irritable and i keep snapping at him over nothing and i’m worried i’m gonna drive him away by being like this. he keeps reassuring me that i won’t but he honestly deserves so much better than all of this, i just wish it would all go away??

i hope i can update this post in a few months and say things are better but i just can’t see that happening rn. i’m sorry to be so depressing, it’s friday night! not a time for making sad posts! but. ye. this is my life rn and it sux

#i’m trying to think of trigger tags pls don’t laugh if i put weird ones lmao #health /#doctors /#chronic illness /#??? sad???#negative // ??#pls say if i’ve missed anything #menstruation //

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96xie · 4 years

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2019

a whole summary of this difficult year

2019 was full of unexpected good and bad surprises along with lessons and experiences.

january

spent good time with mocha, wayo and brian

had such a good time with guildies from our game

met up with some other ppl from the same game and didnt feel too good bc i was never good with crowds and/or groups that were already well established

tried tinder for the first time because i thought it would be nice to put myself out there for once

feburary

continued my tinder journey and actually had fun with it. it was pretty scary at the same time because it was such a new experience talking to other people and to have them notice you? because i always knew and felt that i wasnt really the desirable one.

actually hooked up with a guy from last months meetup and hung out twice. thought it was going somewhere because he, too, showed signs to progress further ((was wrong because he lied and showed red flags later))

one major red sign to me: no response after genuinely saying thank you for rides and dinner. im the type of person who always says thank you because im honestly grateful for the little and big things. he basically shrugged it off.

also, a huge liar. yah, big no

i brought him to my friends birthday bc they and himself wanted to meet each other, it was fun while it lasted but stuff happened

towards the end of the month, i cut my ties off with him for being awfully mean to me and also cut ties with my “friends” for having really bad assumptions of me.

i was frustrated with myself at that time bc his cats gave me a bad breakout and i felt super ugly. also i wasnt sad over him, but over the fact that i let myself be treated like a second option. eventually i learned that it was good that i didnt let things go further and that i only deserve the very best.

even though i was hurt, i thought it was a good experience, esp since i havent really been in the “dating game” for years. like it was a just a small step to putting myself out there once again

a week later after that a classmate asked me out and got tons of compliments from him and wondered “the universe really works in crazy ways”

march

met some cool people through the same mobile game on a discord server and they were much better than the first group.

also met this really funny dude in the same group. like he was so fun to talk to and he understood my dumb lingo

remember when my classmate asked me out on a date? it turned out a bit weird. but considering this was my first date in YEARS i thought it was a cool experience. got some carne asada fries outta him

i had the dude i was talking to call me so i could leave the date tho LOL ((he helped me lots, esp how to deal with awkward situations with my classmate. also at this point, i really liked talking to him but i wasnt rly sure if i wanted to date other guys bc i had been hurt previously)

this month was pretty much dedicating most of my time talking to him and i enjoyed it alot

also went to pubs for the first time to hangout with my coworkers. such an interesting place

april

tried rollerskating for the first time ever, ended up with a bunch of bruises but it was cool!

also tried 7leaves for the first time and instantly fell in love with mungbean

also went clubbing in sf with my friends and it was such a fun time like i had SO much fun

i got auctioned off of SAD! that phase was just a crazy ride. while there was many that dm’d me, there was only one special person that i only replied to and continued to talk to him on a daily basis

((honestly, i was scared that i was taking things a bit further with him because a part of me was like “are you ready for this?” and “have you really recovered from that guy?” or “can you give this guy your all?” just alot of overthinking))

spent 4/20 at sf with my friends, and overall had a GREAT time. took too many hits and drank so ya gorl was crossfaded. not sure if i wanna do tht again tho

unfortunately woke up with a swollen face and it lasted for a LONG time.

may

so my face is still swollen, still bad, red as a tomato and at this point i was really hesitant to meet up with the guy ive been talking to. i mean!! my skin was SO bad. i felt like i was gonna make a fool out of myself by scaring him away

but,,,, he was still willing to see me despite my appearance and : ( he was so accepting and typing this makes my heart ache bc he is SUCH a good man : (

i met up with the guy towards the end of the month in sj and first thing he does when i walk up to him is give me this great warm hug and so many smooches !!!!!!! like my heart is melting

eventually we became official !!! he got us an airbnb for the night and we jus spent time cuddling on the bed and honestly i : ( i like him so much

june

my birthday wasnt rly that like “wow” it was actually kinda annoying

my bf flew up to sf where we met up, explored the city and slept the night in at an airbnb. next day went to oakland where i introduced my friends to him!

went to my first festival with several with my friends, including ppl from our same guild from our game and it was SO fun

rolled for the first time and it was SUCH an experience. redosed like twice and ended up hallucinating which is something ill def not do again

also i really wished my bf was with me at that time : ( while i had an extremely fun time, i wish i shared that moment with him : (

july

went to vegas for my cousins 22nd bday. shit was wild

also rolled there.

also threw up for the very first time

a fight broke out at the club and that shit was fuckgin CRAZY and it was RIGHT next to our table

also used alot of my money for the whole trip in which nobody really told me about so …. i was like ok.. fuck …

also my skin was still bad during these past months so it was pretty hard masking it

like really hard. with someone with terrible eczema, its just extremely hard to hide it

august

bf flew to sac!!! he met my mom for the first time and we explored the city and stuff

and went on an ikea date! and! honestly i just really loved spending time with him :c

we also spent time with my friends! they came over also! and ate some fuckgin bomb ass waffles

and then took bus down to la to meetup with some friends from our guild towards the end of the month!

it was pretty nice to be able to stay with my bf in his apartment !!!!!

also some scalding tea but thats rly for another time

to make it super short tho: our friend that we’ve known much longer than the girl he met (less than 3 months) dropped our friendship SO quick lol

september

cousin bonding @ beach, too cold for tht doe

towards the end of the month, my bf flew me down!!! so i spent the weekend with him and like always, only had a good time with him!

AND ALWAYS EATING GOOD FOOD!

october

during this fall semester, i took online classes and one of them was a 8week class. there was a topic about mental health and how we can take care of ourselves better and i just thought it was such an important thing to cover. i feel like its not talked about enough

november

spent thanksgiving with my family down in morgan hill and ate good food! honey ham has a special place in my heart.

went black friday shopping first at walmart, lowkey disappointed in myself because i was bummed out the apple watches were sold out. the materialistic part of me jumped out oof

slept at my cousins then went to the mall! didnt get anything besides really good bulgogi fries. i hated going into stores tho cuz everything was literally crowded. hated it !!!!!!!

went to a small festival in sacramento with my friends at the end of the month and this time is 7 of us (than the usual 5)! it was sososo fun.

also took my coworker with me, it was actually amusing to see bc our group were all asian and he’s the only tall white guy

made hotpot at home and we also went out for milktea and waffles again! sooo good.

december

flew down to see my bf again and only had a good time! went to this garden with beautiful lights and ! ugh! SO pretty!

cried in his bed before my flight back, cried on the plane, cried at home and cried before i slept. i miss him

also racked up alot of hours so i could pay for my tuition and my family’s bills. kinda sucks bc im pretty tired but i gotta do what do i gotta do.

christmas was a bit lonely bc my mom went to the philippines and i dont rly talk to my brother but my kuya came the next day and we ate n watched stuff

overall, it was a whacky year. but im so glad to have met ed. he means SO much to me. a part of me was so hesitant to date him because i mean, he’s man with his life set. i dont have a car, im still in school, i have this part time job where im giving my mom all my paychecks and which the only money im keeping is just my tips (not much), i still have issues with myself and other conflicts and honestly theres much to do, learn and grow from. but he’s so supportive, understanding and loving and i love and appreciate him from the bottom of my heart. most of the time i wonder if im doing and if im being enough for him. i worry about that alot but he’s so patient with me. i laugh alot when im with him and i feel so happy.

did i mention that we are long distance? him being in la and me in sacramento. so the only thing thats connecting us is facetime. maybe once every two months will i see him in person but yep. when i had my first panic attack, i really wanted him right next to me. at that moment i felt even more sad because of course you’re gonna want you’re significant other during a moment like that. but anyways, i always miss him and i always want him next to me and i always love him. i want to hurry up and get my education done with so i can be with him. not to sound like omg im so madly infatuated with him type of thing tho. he’s someone who understands me and knows how to love me.

i hope 2020 treats me well despite all the challenges ahead of me.

#phew #old mutuals im on twtr! keep in contact with me there!

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blaise-comp6841-public · 5 years

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Week 5 Lectures

Morning Lecture

Wired Equivalent Privacy

With WiFi, unlike a wired connection, it is easy for other people to access packets that are being sent through the air. This means that you would want to encrypt your data before sending it.

WEP is very basic encryption with many vulnerabilities. What was interesting is that even though vulnerabilities were found, people kept using it for a while because they didn’t have many alternatives.

Data sent in a WEP frame is broadcast, and only those with the correct MAC address will read it. But this doesn’t stop other people from taking these packets, modifying them and resending them.

Encryption is done using RC4 (which uses a random number generator), and XOR. The data is encrypted, but the order and structure is still the same. So given a packet, it is known which bits correspond to the IP packet’s destination IP address.

An attacker can take a packet sent by someone else, modify the packet’s destination IP address, and send it back to the access point. Instead of the attacker doing work, the access point will decrypt it and send it back to the attacker! Note that the attacker’s IP and the victim’s IP addresses are the same for the first 3/4 of bits, so there aren’t many different combinations to try.

This is an example of mixing data and control - changing the addresses within the IP packet (which is inside the WEP frame) also changes the control.

Phreaking (phone hacking)

Phones back in the day sent tones of different frequencies for control e.g. the frequency 2600Hz was used to give a free phone call.

There was a Captain Crunch promotion where they gave out whistles with frequency 2600Hz - the same frequency as the tone for free phone calls. So people bought the cereal and abused this to get free calls.

The main problem was that tones used for control were sent along the data line.

Guest Lecture - Doctor

There is a lot of bias going on even in the medical world, with patients, pharmaceutical companies, and with doctors.

Observation bias is when seeing what other people are doing influences our decisions. For example, there is a hormone tablet for breast cancer offered after a surgery which has a chance of preventing the cancer coming back, however it has some side effects. A doctor who just saw a patient who decided to take the tablet may become biased towards supporting the decision to use the tablet for the next patient.

There is also the idea of “quid pro quo”, something mentioned in the Social Engineering lecture. Sometimes pharmaceutical representatives take doctors/nurses out for a free lunch and tell them about a new drug. Because of this favour they have done, these doctors/nurses are more likely to recommend the company’s drugs.

What’s scary is that sometimes you think you are not being biased, but in reality you are subconsciously leaning towards one side or another. Next time I make a judgement on something, I’ll try to check if I am truly being fair, or if I’m just following my instincts.

A majority of problems occuring is from human error, be it negligence or poor judgement. Take for example hygiene. It is difficult to get doctors to wash their hands regularly or follow proper hygienic procedures, because they either forget or think its too much of a hassle.

A study showed that adding checklists in surgery halved the infection rate. Checklists have really simple things on them, and are cheap to create, but its usually the simple steps that aren’t followed which lead to poor hygiene. So instead of investing in high end equipment to reduce bacteria levels slightly, in this instance, it was more effective to bring about a culture change on the simple things.

Evening Lecture

Extended seminar - OPSEC (Operations security)

Protect information that could be used by the enemy against you

Identification of critical info

Analysis of threats

Analysis of vulnerabilities

Assessment of risk

Application of appropriate OPSEC measures

Random pieces of info aren’t useful, but together they can do damage.

Origin - Vietnam war

Snowden - “What would be the impact if my adversary were aware of my activities?”

If your threat model is too high - don’t do it.

How to OPSEC?

If you don’t need to share information, don’t.

If you do something you don’t want people to know about, ensure it can’t be traced back to you

Avoid bringing attention to youself

This is hard to pull off, so tradeoffs must be made e.g. where do you want to be secure, or and where do you want to be visible. It’s hard figure out how much you want to hide.

Avoid sharing information - only share if it’s needed, beware of social media, metadata, indicators - expensive clothes

Keep identity secret - Tor browser to remain anonymous,

You can use a false identity - hard to maintain

Be forgettable - blend in with everyone else so that you don’t draw attention to yourself

“There are no case studies of good OPSEC - you never hear about them.”

Case studies

WW2 - American congressman bragged that American subs survived because Jap depth charges weren’t deep enough. This cost the US lives, as Japanese set them deeper.

MI6 agent exposed because of wife who left Facebook on public.

Harvard bomb threat

Bomb threat listed his exam hall

Guerilla mail adds originating header - found out it was Tor

Tor was used on campus wifi - don’t be logged in if you want to be anonymous

Silk road - Ross Ulbricht

Asked for help with set up on his real email

Used same alias on multiple sites

Tor and VPN used in wrong order - negligence

Richard’s comments

Someone with good OPSEC used different computers and toolkits for different personas.

Even first contact is dangerous - you can roll back in time to when people were young and connected their accounts etc.

Extended seminar - Passwords

Most passwords used are weak. It’s hard to remember and to type a complex password, so people tend not to use them.

Passwords often use personal information such as name and birthday. So hackers can try cracking passwords using this information.

Good passwords are long without english grammar patterns.

Passwords are broken

Passwords are weak - full of meaning (47% based on name), often reused over multiple sites.

Personal Information Attack

Fake Facebook profile (Sally) - can see partner’s name, birthday, education, hobbies, pet’s name

cup.py - many combinations of passwords based on personal information, common replacements (a -> 4)

Password Crackers

John the Ripper on Kali Linux

Hashcat - for hashes

Why are passwords bad?

hard to remember and type good passwords

complicated rules for generation (letters, numbers, symbols)

regular renewal

little incentive to create unique passwords

low probability, high impact risk

Password Storage: bad practice

Some are still stored in plain text - mostly small to medium sized companies

Facebook had stored plaintext passwords in an internal database

Bad hashing (md5, sha1) - Rainbow tables are designed to match with passwords

Demo - using Linkedin passwords file

In 2012 - Linkedin was hacked, and passwords leaked.

Saeed had a file with the list of userid:hashedpassword.

Used Google - sha1 to reverse the hashed password

Looking through the first 1000 lines, 4 people had the same password

10000 lines - 26 people

Passwords frequency in descending order: password, 123456, LinkedIn

If you have a bad hash, anyone with google can hack passwords

John the Ripper - automatically cracks the passwords based on the hashes

Salt - add random string to end of the password, you get 2 different hashes. This way, there isn’t a problem if many people had a password. LinkedIn did not have a salt.

Best practices for storing passwords

Use a strong encryption method like a hashing function such as sCrypt or BCrypt

Store the salted hash, not the password

Salts should be long (at least 256 bits)

Don’t store password hints

Another solution - let a bigger company handle it. Log in with Google or Facebook, however this is

Maybe we can get rid of passwords altogether - but not yet.

Password Generation

Better ways to come up with memorable passwords

correcthorsebatterystaple

length of word creates enough entropy

avoids english grammar patterns

don’t use common words

passphrases

long and with wacky lexicon but good syntax to make it hard for AI to generate

memorable

initialisation of a phrase

take first letter of each word, removes English letter frequency

New policy - NIST 2016

don’t force regular password changes

don’t enforce composition rules

don’t provide password hints

allow user to opt for passwords to be viewed while typing

limit number of failed login attempts

Richard: just keep a list of bad passwords, don’t use any.

Long passwords are better than just adding symbols and numbers.

Richard: we think our passwords are good, but we overestimate it. Humans are bad at generating passwords - we follow patterns.

Buckland’s Lecture

Merkle Damgard construction

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Merkle%E2%80%93Damg%C3%A5rd_construction

SHA2 - different types depending on size (SHA-256 means SHA2 with 256 bits)

We have a long message, but we need a small hash, so we break the message into blocks.

This is a method of building collision resistant cryptographic hash functions from collision resistant one way compression functions.

It is used in hash algorithms such as MD5, SHA1 and SHA2.

The message is split up into blocks.

The algorithm starts with an initial value, the initialisation vector (IV).

The result so far (initially just the IV) is combined with the next message blockis, then the compression function f is applied.

Step 3 is repeated until all blocks have been added.

The last result may be passed through a finalisation function.

Bank messaging problem

We want integrity and authentication. MACs give us both.

We can add the secret key before the message, and then hash it.

MAC: h(key|data)

The problem with this is that an intercepted message with known hash and message length can be extended. This is a length extension attack.

Take the hash, append a new message to it and pass it into f, the compression function. In this way, you can modify the message, even without knowing the secret key.

HMAC (hash-based message authentication code) puts the password after the message, instead of the beginning. h( key | h(key|m) )

Digital Signature

DSA - Digital Signature Algorithm

A digital signature is used to verify authenticity of digital messages or documents. A valid digital signature gives the recipient strong reason to believe the message was truly from the sender (authentication) and that the message was not altered in transit (integrity).

Signing larger files directly takes a long time. To sign large files, hash the file and then sign the encrypted hash.

Collisions with digital signatures

A collision attack requires half the number of bits in the hash size.

Example: Alice has a pdf saying “I will give Bob $100″, then Alice signs it, and sends it along with the signature to Bob. If an attacker can create another document with the same hash as Alice’s document, then the attacker can use the same signature with this new document, so it looks like Alice has signed the new document.

The attacker can change 1 bit in each document that doesn’t change anything visible (e.g. whitespace) and then keep hashing them until you find 2 identical hashes. Ask Alice to sign the first document, and you can reuse the signature for the second one.

Passwords

Password attack types:

online - typing the password on a website manually

website can detect

offline - obtaining the file containing hashes of passwords and decrypting locally

/etc/shadow

password file used to be protected by md5

Salt is random data added to the password before hashing. Salts help to prevent collisions in the case that users have the same password. Salts also protect against the use of rainbow tables, because the password will need to be hashed with the random salt to be in the table.

#lectures

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thewidowstanton · 5 years

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Dangerous Steve, outdoor showman, comedy actor, Sideshow Illusions performer

Dangerous Steve is the stage name of Steve Collison, who was born in King’s Lynn but grew up near the Buckinghamshire village of Middle Claydon. He had the most extraordinary childhood and started living up to his name by doing dangerous things at a ridiculously young age. He was billed – by agents such as Bernard Woolley, TB Phillips and Temple’s Gala agency – as ‘the World’s Youngest Motorcycle Stunt Rider’. As well as touring internationally as Dangerous Steve, he has also worked with Magic Carpet Theatre – where he is company manager – for 30 years. And he regularly performs with Jon Marshall’s Sideshow Illusions and Dr Phantasma’s Amazing Ten in One Show.

Steve is married to fellow Sideshow Illusions performer Alexandra Collison, who was my first Widow interviewee, under her maiden name of Boanas. Alex, who is a trained soprano and has an MA in performance, often plays Yvette – the Headless Lady, Miss Elastina and No-Middle Myrtle, as well as Romana the Gypsy Queen on the Ladder of Swords. They have two children, Flossie and Winnie, who are almost destined to follow in their parents’ showbusiness footsteps. Steve chats to Liz Arratoon.

The Widow Stanton: When and how did you start stunt riding? Dangerous Steve: My dad, Peter, was the butler at Claydon House stately home in Buckinghamshire. At Christmas when I was five, Sharon, my sister, was getting lots of presents and I almost started getting a bit teary because I noticed I wasn’t getting as many. Then I was taken into the other room where there was a big present. Somewhere I’m on Cine film; there’s me unwrapping a motorbike, and apparently I just stood there shaking for ages, which was very funny. I started off just riding round the estate for a while but dad wasn’t very impressed with me just haring around on a motorbike, he wanted me to do tricks and stuff like that.

As a child, to be brought up at Claydon House… I was the only one on the estate as my sister went away to boarding school as a dancer. Sometimes I just wanted to kick a football around with my friends; on the other hand I did go around the estate thinking how lucky I was and how amazing the views over the lake were on summer evenings. We used to live in the courtyard. There was a swimming pool and stuff like that, which Sir Ralph and Lady Verney never really used, so I had my own little swimming pool. They were like my grandparents. I’d go round there on Christmas day and open presents with them.

I joined The Spirit of Britain junior motorcycle display team, which was run by a guy called Gus Scott, who used to train Eddie Kidd. I was with them from when I was five years old to seven. They were based in Luton and I toured around with them, but because I had so much space at home and they could only meet twice a week, I started practising all the tricks alone. My dad was thinking, ‘Well, he can now do all these tricks himself’, so he started taking me to do all the galas and carnivals around the country to perform on my own. Your dad sounds amazing. What sort of dad would give his kid a motorbike? Did he want to be in showbusiness himself? Yes, he did. He was very different. He managed to get an Equity card and had done some extra work and been in shows doing whatever he was asked to do. I think people are now quite interested in butlers and stately homes. My mum was very proud of me but would only watch me once I could do the tricks without falling off. I hurt myself but I never broke any bones with the motorbike. My dad was very good at starting off with quite basic things and was very strict on making sure I did things the right way. How much fun was all this for a kid? It was very exciting. I couldn’t sleep the week before a show. We’d go away in a big lorry and it was like a holiday, apart from I used to have to map-read. Some of these country fairs are in the middle of nowhere and one wrong turn, you could end up backing the lorry two miles down the road in the way of tractors… I soon got very good at map-reading because otherwise I’d get into so much trouble. I was doing tricks jumping over fire and through fire at seven or eight. Dad was very good at building props and made a tunnel of fire. Once we’d got the frame with all the fire straw in the middle of the park – we’d found a field without any sheep on it – I remember saying to him just before we lit it, ‘Dad, when we light the fire, what if I don’t want to do it?’, and he said: “You will do it. Now I’ve built it, you’ll do it.”

Once they were built, there was no going back and I’d practise and practise and practise. As I got older, people expected more from me, so the ability went up with my age; bigger jumps, bigger fire, pyrotechnics… because it was only me, whereas some of the bigger army display teams, like the White Helmets, would fill the stage. I had a load of publicity when I was awarded The Star newspaper Best in Britain award, presented by David Essex. I was sponsored by National, the petrol firm who used Smurfs to promote their brand. Sharon joined the act. Later she became a dancer and choreographer and now runs Claydons Academy, teaching dance and drama, but then she was a Smurf! Were you paid appearance fees? Yes. Once when I had a three-week tour in Scotland, the whole family came up there because it was in the summer holidays. We all stayed in a tent and it rained for most of the time. I can remember waking up one morning floating on an airbed. I didn’t realise until I put my foot outside the sleeping bag into a load of water that the whole family was floating! I’d get paid every week and we’d accumulated quite a bit of cash. The Leeds Building Society was doing deals at the gala that if you were a child you could open a bank account with £1 and you got a money box and a bag and stuff like that. Mum and dad decided the safest thing to do with the money was to go to open up an account. I was about eight. They were expecting me to give £1 and suddenly I had this wad of cash. They must have wondered where I’d got it from and just thought I’d stolen it or found it.

Did you ever go to school? I did. The school was very good and if ever there was a school fete or anything like that they’d always ask me to do my motorcycle stunt show. I was filmed on my motorbike for children’s TV with Anneka Rice, who once came to school. We had a mock school fete and she was lying down and I ended up jumping over her. What happened next? The motorbike act stopped when public liability insurance started getting really expensive. I was about 14. Then my dad and I toured the Crazy Brigade – a comedy fire brigade, very much Keystone Cops, very visual – round country shows and big galas. It was a comedy car act that drove on its own and fell apart, but it was more like a stunt comedy act. There was a lot of water! My dad built a human cannon and we thought, ‘Oh, we need an act for it’, especially when he’d taken a picture of it and sold it. We had ten shows booked in before we even had an act.

I used to worry; we had a prop, a comedy cannon, but no show. It blew up at the end and I went flying out of the end of it but not a great distance. I never got to the net on the other side of the arena. But we did it in the end and it was very successful. I knew Martin Burton of Zippos Circus from the galas and carnivals, rather than as a circus contact. When I was 15, in my last year at school, he kindly said I could do work experience on their theatre tour. Other people worked in the local bakery. I went to Wales and Carlisle and never went back to school.

What does Dangerous Steve actually do? It kind of depends where I’m booked to do it. If it’s in the middle of a town centre early on a Saturday morning with a few people walking past with shopping bags, the last thing they want to do is get stopped to watch a show by some nutter in the street. I try to make my show very entertaining and try to be likeable on stage. If it’s indoors and the audience is put there for me, it’s the same show but I have to work in a different way. I do ten things; I start on my motorcycle monowheel. It builds up a big crowd straightaway. I sit inside the wheel – the engine is inside it – and it’s a very difficult bike to balance and ride. I’ve spent the last three years learning how to do a new trick on it; a double loop the loop.

I then go on to my motorcycle sidecar, which I ride round, introduce myself, and then stand on top of the seat and juggle knives. Then I do some fire. With outdoor shows I try to make it really very appealing at the start to distract people from the funfair and the stalls by doing fire tricks and some big fireballs with fire whips and things like that…

Fire whips? Yes, they create a massive fireball. I go from there to the unsupported ladder, so I’m up high, talking to people telling them what they’re about to see, and if they don’t want to see it now’s the time to leave! I’m very proud of balancing on top of a ten-foot ladder. It’s scary, as I don’t like heights! Then I then do a giant rola-bola, so I’m on a tower, on top of a beer keg on its side and on top of a board, and then I go through a fire hoop. Then I juggle a chainsaw, and do my giant unicycle, which is bigger this year, a ten-foot unicycle, and then into a blindfold motorcycle stunt. I set two chainsaws going – possibly four this year – on a frame, and I ride round blindfolded and through the frame with a steel shield on my face and a hood over my head, which I get the audience to check. And, you know, hopefully I don’t cut my head off.

Has anything ever gone wrong? When I was learning, I broke my arm just before doing a show in a school hall. I thought, ‘That really hurt, I think I’ve damaged my arm’. In the first part of show I had to play the drums. Oh, my goodness, every time I hit the drums it was excruciating. 15 years later I finally learnt to do the trick I was trying when I broke my arm! I did a show in Scotland last year and before I went on, they announced that they were having a dog show and they’d put a big marquee in the corner of the arena, which made it quite narrow. I was driving my monowheel but I tipped over too far and the foot peg stuck into the ground and I went right over doing a somersault in the wheel, I flew out of it, got back on it, and carried on and the crowd loved it! [Laughs]

Then I got on my sidecar to juggle the knives and I went over a bump and one of the knives went into my face. I had blood running down my face. I looked at the organisers who were looking at me, like, ‘What have we booked, some cowboy?’, but actually, afterwards they loved it and they want me back. [Laughs] So it pays to hurt yourself sometimes.

How did you learn all your other skills? Because I’ve been involved in so many shows over the years, I kind of picked up all these skills individually. It was a bit of watching others and trial and error. My show is very different to anyone else’s on the outdoor circuit. I don’t know anyone else who does some of the tricks, but I’ve seen someone else doing others and I’ve thought, ‘Oh, that would be perfect for my show’.

Do you have a natural ability to pick things up? Probably not. It’s practice, and a lot of the things I’ve learnt to do, I was a teenager. If you’re a teenager you don’t mind falling off so much. It doesn’t hurt so much. I must admit some of the time now, when I’m trying new stuff out, I do think, ‘Am I a bit old for this?’.

I believe there’s one motorbike stunt that I’ve done that you haven’t… [Laughs] Yes, yes. The Wall of Death! It’s a dream and an ambition one day to do it.

It was horrific but you would love it! I’m going to contact Jake Messham and try to arrange it. I should do it September because it’s always a little bit dangerous trying new tricks out just before you get really busy for the summer season.

And the Globe of Death, do you fancy that? I would love to try. I’d try anything really.

How do you divide your time? We’re trying to stay busy all year round and it is really busy. The summer is now crazy with Dangerous Steve, so every weekend and Bank Holiday and there seem to be a lot of agricultural shows in the week as well. Last August I went from Orkney to Guernsey, doing shows on the way down as well. Summer season now… outdoor shows seem to be really good, really healthy and a full season of shows, like the olden days, really. When that quietens off in September, we go into Magic Carpet theatre shows and December, we’re sold out in schools performing a theatre show.

How did you come to join Magic Carpet so young? After Zippos the school let me go off on more work experience with Jon Marshall, who I’d worked with in the galas and carnivals when he was The Man with the X-ray Eyes. Magic Carpet is his children’s theatre company that tours schools, art centres and theatres up and down the country and occasionally we get to go abroad. The shows are very visual, good fun and exciting. It’s a comedy play. We don’t have any big message; it’s just a great way to introduce children to live theatre. They laugh all the way through and if they haven’t seen much before, they come out absolutely buzzing. Jon is very good at making it exciting and understandable. It’s a bit of a rollercoaster with highs, but we also bring them down again. We know when the dangerous bits are coming up where the kids might shout out, but no one needs to be on edge as we’ve got them under control.

Do you feel you sort of owe your career to your dad, really? Yes, very much so, dad and Jon. All through my childhood I had so much respect for my dad and so much help, hours and hours of dragging me round the country, which I enjoyed. I enjoyed where I lived at the stately home, and also the travelling around at the same time. He would be working after I’d gone to bed out in the workshop, building props for me and I’d be practising with them after school the next day, probably falling off, breaking it, and he’d be back in the workshop again mending it and telling me not to fall off again.

Do you think your experience could happen to a child these days because of health and safety… It would be very difficult. Even now with Flossie, if she falls over, the first thing that goes through your mind when she goes to pre-school, they’re going to see a bruise and it’s going to have to go in a report and they ask how it happened. They also ask the child as well to see if the stories match, whereas when I was a child and did The Spirit of Britain, I remember we were doing some practising and I set off the wrong way round the arena, ending up colliding with another bike, fell off, the foot peg went into my foot, I ended up in hospital, and then a couple of days later it was all forgotten. I wouldn’t want Flossie to hurt herself and there are ways of learning tricks with protection, but I wouldn’t put her off doing what I did. I try not to be too pushy with her because I think slow and steady will win the race.

Not like yer dad then? [Laughs] [Laughs] To be honest she’s only four, a little bit younger than I was when I started. But she is very keen on running onstage at the end of the show and she likes to go in the blade box, with blades in it. I’ve got a motorbike and sidecar and last year in Poynton, near Manchester, she sat on the sidecar.

Did you ever imagine that this would be your life? No, but later on in school everyone was talking about what they were going to do as a career, and I did think, ‘What the hell am I going to do?’. Then I thought, ‘Well, actually, I quite like what I do now. At the age of 15 I’ve already got quite a few years’ experience behind me. I’ve learnt how to do things and how not to do things’. So it would have been a waste not to carry on, and I’m so glad I stuck at it. When you’re a teenager sometimes the grass is always greener on the other side. When I was getting towards 19, some of my mates were earning quite good money doing other things, and I was thinking, ‘Oh, should I change what I do?’, but obviously I’m so glad I didn’t. I love it more now than ever.

Dangerous Steve will be appearing at Kimpton in Hertfordshire on 4 May, 2019 at the start of his summer season. Check his website for details.

Picture credit: Ian Spooner

Steve’s website

Twitter: @DangerousSteve1 @sideshowmagic

Follow @TheWidowStanton on Twitter

#dangerous steve #steve collison #sideshow illusion #Jon Marshall #magic carpet theatre #motorbike stunt rider #monowheel #anable monowheel #interview #alex collison

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regrettablewritings · 7 years

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All the Write Words, Pt.I (Library AU! Vladimir Ranskahov x Reader)

Prologue Part II Part III Part IV Part V

The S. Lee Public Library was just two blocks shy of Hell’s Kitchen. It was nowhere near as grand as the New York City Public Library, having far more comfort and far less elegance with its surplus of carpeted floors and bean bag chairs, but it still managed to obtain its fair share of visitors who found its location more convenient and appearance less intimidating.

And yet it was amazing how tense the environment could become once you’ve added a 6-foot, scowling, scarred, tattooed Russian ex-con to the premises.

“Behave, listen, and don’t get any ideas,” Anatoly had told Vladimir as he dropped him off. Like a suburban soccer mom who didn’t know how to quiet down in front of her child’s friends. America, Vladimir decided, had made a pussy of his brother. The thought made his gut churn with fury and his teeth clench ferociously. He absolutely refused to let this damned program do the same to him. He opened the door as angrily and demanding as he could, which was difficult considering that the entrance had been structured so as to avoid creaking or slamming to preserve silence.

The Russian dared not walk at a quick pace. He’d let them do the waiting, whoever they were. Show them who was boss. Make these book-humpers his bitches. He made sure his walk was commanding, just as serious as the look on his face. It was just loud enough that the blonde teenaged girl at the check-out desk heard him coming across the carpet. The small smile she’d been trained to wear was quickly wiped away at the sight of her oncoming nightmare: a disgruntled, tall man-child who looked like he was ready to make a deal or make a fight.

“O-oh. Can – can I help you?” she squeaked. Vladimir smirked inwardly as he saw her nervously fingering at the book in her hands. He wordlessly handed her the brochure Anatoly had given him; the very one that started all this shit. The paperwork had been done before Vladimir had even been picked up, with the only remaining bit being his signature (which Anatoly forced out of him). He had no choice but to come, but he was sure as hell going to make it his choice as to whether or not this would be of any use.

“T-the . . . The reform program?” asked the blonde as her eyes flickered back and forth between Vladimir and the pamphlet. The Russian could tell by the way her voice wavered that just on site, she was already intimidated by his presence. The fact that her voice faltered dramatically while saying “reform” only confirmed this further. Good. Like hell I will let this little suka order me about.

“Da,” he responded lowly, expression unchanging. If she was going to act this way, might a well give her something to actually fear. He heard her gulp nervously.

“Oh. Yes, well. Um. I’m Karen,” she introduced. After a quick moment of hesitance, she offered her small hand for a complimentary salutations. After it became apparent that the scary man before her was not in the market for greetings, she slowly retracted it. To fill in the awkward silence, Karen continued, “I kind of intern here . . . Oh, but that’s not exactly important right now. Who you need to meet is (Y/N).” She offered a small smile that curiously made Vladimir suspect that it wasn’t forced at all. “She calls the shots around here, so it’s more important that you meet with her first so that you can get settled.”

Karen’s eyes flickered around the area before landing to a series of shelves located near the back of the building. She pointed at the area with a pen and said, “Last I checked, she should be back there somewhere restacking the Shakespeare collection. I’d show you where precisely but I’m kind of . . . busy . . .” Her voice dropped. It was a bullshit lie if Vladimir had ever seen one.

Vladimir knew that much and he was a combination of pissed and indifferent. He grunted an indication of understanding and took off. It was only when he was far enough from the desk that he realized: Oh shit, the bitch didn’t point him into the exact direction he was supposed to go in. Wait, why did her care? He could totally take advantage of this; a king doesn’t wait on peasants, he could probably just go into the faculty lounge, nick some snacks, and wait for this (Y/N) to find him in there. Vladimir felt a smirk form on his face for a moment. It quickly scurried away, however, when he realized that if he couldn’t read the sign for “Shake-sphere” or whatever, he damn sure couldn’t make out “faculty.” Damn.

He tried his best to not look as panicked as he was beginning to feel but it was more than just difficult: it was embarrassing. He came in here big and bad, ready to raise some hell. But after all that peacocking and whatnot, what did he have to support it? At this point, he couldn’t raise a pencil to write the section he was supposed to be looking in.

“Excuse me, sir, but is there something you’re looking for?” The calm voice somehow broke through the noise Vladimir was most certainly not having in his head. It was light, in that way a person makes their voice to sound more appealing to a potential customer.

“Sir? Can I help you?” She came from behind one of the stack shelves. If it weren’t for the air of leadership or the fact that she had an abundance of keys on a chain hanging from her pocket, he would have just assumed she was yet another peasant.

Having never been much of a reader (that was more so Anatoly’s field), Vladimir did not frequent libraries. He had little to no idea of the diversity of librarians, nor did he really care to know of it. His best idea of what a librarian would look like basically boiled down to two images: a pasty-skinned old white lady with glasses on a chain, wearing a dusty old cardigan and some sort of brooch; or a busty bespectacled younger woman in a pencil skirt, tight and barely buttoned shirt who would take her hair out of its conservative bun before she started sucking your dick in the back of the library stacks.

She was certainly younger than the first category (that, and she was black), but she also didn’t seem to be the blatantly fuckable type like the second. The tight-fitting clothes were nowhere to be seen, instead replaced with an old sweater and well-loved jeans and sneakers. She was short already at a distance, but as her proximity closed in, it was only made more painfully obvious. She was about up to his chest, though just barely. And that wasn’t including the height her poofy, curly dark hair gave her. The lighting overhead showed Vladimir that her skin was the familiar color of peanut paste: a warm brown, smooth-looking. Unfortunately, the look on her face didn’t look as sweet as the treat her complexion resembled.

It was a tired one, a focused one. If this were a fairytale, she would be the one who would attempt to call the ruler out on his foolishness and knock him from the throne. In many of those circumstances, she would have been successful.

“Da,” was Vladimir’s go-to response. If he made his Russian roots clear, then this pipsqueak would surely assume the worst of him and back off. But to his surprise, all he got from her was a nod.

“Ooohhh, you’re the new guy,” she said. She held out her hand, only without the balk that Karen had. Vladimir hesitated to take it but quickly thought that maybe his size compared to hers would throw her off. She didn’t seem fazed as he took her smaller hand into his larger, rougher ones. He made sure to angle his shakes so that one of his many arm tattoos would show. If this girl saw it, however, she didn’t react the way he wanted her to.

“I’m (Y/N). I’m your boss. And,” she let his hand go and made her voice airy in a mock hippie fashion, poising her hands to create an invisible rainbow, “your guide into your new life.” Vladimir swore his scowl was making his facial skin rip at this point. What this little suka mocking him? His teeth gritted when he heard her chuckle a little in sarcasm. “Seriously, though, welcome to the team, Mr . . . Ranskahov? Am I pronouncing it right?”

“Da,” he said lowly.

“Oh, good! Well, if you’ll just follow me to the back, we’ll get you settled with some final paperwork . . .” She was already wandering in the opposite direction before she finished her sentence. Vladimir strongly considered just standing there. He didn’t want to do a damn thing this tiny thing said, especially after her little mockery of his situation. But then he realized it was either follow her and play along, or stay put and look like an idiot. And possibly deal with the nagging wrath of Toly back home.

“You don’t say much, do you?” (Y/N)’s question broke the silence of the faculty lounge. All she needed for him to do was write his name on three sheets, including one waiver form. She simply assumed he was taking as long as he was because he was being difficult. The truth was that even though his own name was one of the very few things he could write in English, it was still done with some difficulty.

Vladimir glanced up with his signature glower. “What makes you say such?” he questioned, his thick accent breaking the silence even harder.

(Y/N) shrugged, “Well, for starters, that right there is the most you’ve said since you got here. So far, all you’ve said was ‘da.’ And I don’t really take you for the shy type, if I must be honest. It’s okay if you’re not a big talker but I’m telling you this now to help you: things will go much smoother if you at least pretend to enjoy the people you’re with.”

The man grunted in response before returning his sights on the ‘r’ in his first name. Things went quiet for only fifteen more seconds.

“But you know? Maybe it’s just a sign that you’re a great listener. So . . . Even if you don’t talk much, surely you’ll learn a lot. That’s great,” the poofy-haired girl added. Immediately, Vladimir felt his grip on the pen tighten. It would’ve snapped into an inky mess if he hadn’t quickly forced himself back into a state of vague composure.

“Behave, listen, don’t get any ideas,” Anatoly said from the depths of his skull. Behave, listen, no ideas. Behave, listen, give them Hell. Behave, listen, blackmail and bribe. Behave, listen, make them bow –

“Hey, are you okay?”

He glanced up at her. Her brows were furrowed enough to become visible beneath the curly pile of locks that fell on her face. “You’ve been on that page for quite a while . . . Look, I understand if you don’t want to be here but – ”

The pen flew in a chicken scratch-y mess across the designated lines – What the hell did these peasants know anyway, it could’ve been cursive for all they could muster up. Wordlessly, he shoved the papers towards her and focused his attention elsewhere. But everywhere he looked, there were words: On magnets, on posters, files, snacks, backpacks, textbooks belonging to the interns, magazines. All in English. All reminders of the main foe at hand. The one thing keeping him from doing whatever the hell he wanted.

He heard (Y/N) hum with approval as she looked over the papers. “Alright. We’re good. Thank you, Mr. Ranskahov, I think this’ll do just fine.” He already hated that smile of hers. It made her cheeks round and soft. Like a little animal he could prey on. He also decided that he hated those eyes of hers when she looked back up at him. They were dark brown, too dark to see her pupils. He couldn’t read her soul and make her feel as scared as he wanted to if he couldn’t pinpoint the exact image of the pupils. Fuck’s sake, this twit was like a conniving rabbit or something –

“—if that’s alright with you.”

“Hm?” Fuck, had he really just spent the entire time thinking about the power she already held over him? As a peasant to a king?!

(Y/N) made that chuckle he already hated. “I was just saying . . . Well, since technically I am the one in charge of you—” (Vladimir felt his eye twitch; [Y/N] didn’t notice, too busy looking for a folder to add his papers into) “—and since I’d like to make sure we’re in a less strict and imposing environment, I thought it’d be better if I just called you Vladimir instead of Mr. Ranskahov. Sound good?”

Vladimir’s facial muscles worked in harmony to keep everything as calm as possible: his nostrils couldn’t flair, his eyes couldn’t form an escalated glare, and his teeth couldn’t grit as loudly. The fucking nerve of this – naporistaya suka! Did she have any idea of what he’d done? The things he’d committed to earn him the tattoos, the scars? Was there a brain underneath all that hair? Did she have a deathwish?

Behave, listen, no ideas. Behave, listen, play along. Behave, listen, lead the rabbit into the den. Behave, listen, then go for the kill.

“Da,” Vladimir’s voice strained. He considered throwing in a smile but instantly decided that that was where he would draw the line in this charade.

Per what was becoming the norm, (Y/N) didn’t seem to notice and was the one doing the smiling once again. “Excellent! Well, we’re not very busy today and there’s not a whole lot I can really have you do until this paperwork is looked over . . . Sooooo . . . Yeah, you’re free to go. See you on Wednesday, Vladimir!”

And with that, (Y/N) turned and waltzed out of the faculty lounge into God knows where, her abundance of curls bouncing and keys jingling with every step.

Vladimir stood wordlessly in the lounge of the S. Lee Public Library for what felt like eons. The S. Lee Library was two blocks from the beginning of Hell’s Kitchen. Eight blocks away from the garage Anatoly would supposed to be at until 5 PM. Vladimir glanced at the clock: 11:47 AM. His face immediately exploded into a nostril-flaring, teeth-gritting, super-glaring mess. He hated those cheeks, those eyes, that laugh –

Fuck it, Vladimir thought as he stormed through the doors for the long, unwanted walk. I hate her!

#vladimir ranskahov x reader #vladimir ranskahov imagine #vladimir ranskahov imagines #daredevil imagine #daredevil imagines #Regrettablewritings #all the write words #vladimir is an arrogant sob #the littlest indication that things won't go his way make him panic on the inside #fight me on this

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eds-zebra-warrior · 3 years

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2021 Ehlers Danlos Society Awareness Month (Day 6 Prompt: Management Strategies)

I used to think I had some management strategies but the worse my symptoms get the worse they are to manage. This post will be relatively short but staying on a very strict schedule helps quite a bit. I take my meds at four hour intervals throughout the day. I take them at 10am, 2pm, 6pm and 10pm. My meals also follow the 10/2/6 schedule so that I can ensure I have a consistent amount of medication in my system throughout the day.

A lot of management at this point revolves around doing only what my body will allow me to do. I have a very fine line between pushing myself and overdoing it. With a condition that has a lot of autoimmune components you cannot continue to push yourself just because you have to get something done or because you want to do something because if you cross the line you’re body overreacts to this causing a flare up which can leave you in bed for an indefinite period of time.

I also manage my symptoms by staying current on maintenance care such as my regular IV fluids. I have a nurse who administers IV fluids in my home which has been much of what has kept me out of the hospital for dehydration that often results from POTS and Addison's Disease. With my brain and spine manifestations I am now mostly bedridden, either lying in bed or on the couch, only able to sit up for about 2 hours a day. I usually divide this time between eating, going to the bathroom, bathing and what time is left sitting up in order to do things I either have to do or want to do. I have learned to do a lot of things lying down and to be blatantly honest, I hate every second of it.

Some days I will push myself further than I should and sit up longer than 2 hours but to make things simple, my brain stem is being crushed between the base of my skull and my spinal column so sitting up longer can be very dangerous at times and is always very painful. When upright the weight of my skull, brain etc. pressed down on my brain stem, clamping down on it harder, resulting many neurological symptoms, usually starting with pain in my neck and down my spine as well as an ice pick migraine on the right side of my head which is technically goes by several names. Cervicogenic Headache, Atlantoaxial Migraine, Occipital Headache, Chronic Intractable Occipital Pain and more. If I continue to sit up and push it, the Atlantoaxial Instability, Craniocervical Instability and Cervical Anterolisthesis which causes my spinal column not to be able to hold the weight of my head causes my skull and its contents to press down harder on the brain stem cutting off blood and oxygen supply to it which can eventually kill it off resulting in death but if I sit up too long the other, more scary neurological symptoms will start Dystonia flare up causing involuntary jerks and movements, my pacemaker is forced to work harder along with my heart because my arrhythmias increase, I will start having a harder time swallowing and more likely to choke on things and my speech slightly slurs making it sound as if I don't enunciate anything.

When things really advance I will start having trouble breathing and temporary blindness when I turn my head a certain way. Since the brain stem controls the most basic functions of the body you can live without a brain and only a brain stem but you cannot live without a brain stem as it controls these basic functions necessary for life like heart rate and breathing so I have to be extremely careful when I push it and know when I have to lie down, even if its on the floor in the middle of a waiting room, which I have been forced to do on several occasions.

There is a very important reason why can't push myself often. The more I do this, allowing oxygen and blood flow to be cut off to my brain stem the more likely I am to progress the permanent damage resulting from lack of oxygen destroying vital cells. One of the last things that can happen with compression of the brain stem is the loss of the signal from the brain to the lungs to breathe. This can result respiratory distress and eventually death. There are a few things that can help with my symptoms and keep some at bay. I have to focus on drinking lots of electrolyte drinks, taking medications regularly, sticking to a strict schedule, eating meals at the same time each day, keeping my sleep schedule regular, and keeping up on maintenance of my conditions such as the IV fluids, bracing; keeping up on doctors appointments and regular tests are very important and at this point the best I can do.

I no longer have any "good" tricks or fixes as my symptoms have progressed over the past few years to a point that very scary things can happen if I avoid listening to my body and sticking to these clear cut rules of my body. That being said, I do what I can and know when to call it quits which is extremely difficult and annoying for someone who had a workaholic and push it to the max mindset before getting this sick. I wish there was more I could do and constantly making lists in my head of things I want to do or want to get done, knowing it will never happen but hope one day there will be a better way to manage or control these symptoms weather it be through medication, surgery or another alternative but I cant see the future so I all can do is hope for the best

#MyEDSChallenge #MyHSDChallenge

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phawareglobal · 5 years

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Mira Dean - phaware® interview 248

Pulmonary hypertension patient, Mira Dean discusses her diagnosis, overcoming fear of IV therapy and embracing exercise to live a healthier PH lifestyle.

My name is Mira Dean. We live in Cheyenne, Wyoming, which is about 6,200 feet so it makes breathing a little more difficult. I was diagnosed with pulmonary arterial hypertension in 2008. I still see the same doctor that diagnosed me at UC Health down in Denver. When I was diagnosed, I was told I had five years to live. I’m kicking but at nine years now, 10 years, maybe a little bit more.

I just have a very strong connection to PH and the PH Community through Facebook. It breaks my heart every time I look at a Facebook page and I see somebody else newly diagnosed because it's a scary, scary disease. It's become a routine in my life now. I still wish I didn't have it, but it's something that I have chosen not to let define me.

In February of 2008, I just wasn't feeling good. I'd lay down and I try and sleep. Of course, at that point, I was laying just on one pillow and not thinking too much about it, but I literally felt like I had bricks on my chest. I would end up sleeping in a recliner or a chair or something of that nature just so I can get some rest. I started trying to investigate it. That was probably one of the most difficult periods of time during this whole disease because I saw a cardiologist, I saw a pulmonologist. I had doctors telling me that it was psychological, that there was nothing wrong with me physically. I believe every single doctor that I saw, if I remember correctly, told me that if I lost more weight that I would feel better. I saw 19 doctors before I was diagnosed correctly.

To be told that nothing is wrong with you or that it's psychological and you just need some help wrapping your mind around this. To be told that over and over and over again felt very defeating. I remember just sitting in my car after numerous doctors' appointments crying because I just felt like no one was listening to me and no one cared what I was telling them because they felt they knew better than I did. That part was very frustrating.

I remember the last pulmonologist I saw, and at that point, I had no idea. I had never heard of PH other than pH levels when you're testing your water and stuff to make sure that it's the right level, and so I had never heard of that before. I didn't really have an idea of what that was. I was about ready to give up and think, okay, this must be in my head. I have to figure out a way to get past this. I went to a cardiologist. I thought I'm going to try one more time. He had my records. I had probably a three-inch file of records that he had in front of him. He spent not even probably 10 minutes examining me, automatically knew what was going on and he said, "You need to go to the hospital." I said, "Okay." I thought, well, that's encouraging. At least somebody is telling me something is going to happen. I said, "Okay, well, when do I need to do it?" He said, "No, you don't understand. You leave this office and you go right to the hospital."

When I heard that, it scared me to death, quite honestly, because I thought, oh my gosh, I spent all this time trying to find this doctor to tell me that there's actually something wrong with me and now he's telling me I have to get to the hospital right now. That was the most relieving and the scariest at the same time just because I was so thankful to know that there was something physically wrong with me. I was just so glad that somebody finally recognized that there was an issue.

I was admitted to the hospital that day, and that's where it all started. He did a right heart cath. That was my first one. My pressures were 114. I remember laying in the hospital bed, because of course that was back when you had to be flat on your back and you couldn't move for six hours after a right heart cath. He was walking out of my room into the hallway, and I don't think he realized how close he was still to my room because he walked out and he said, "I have never seen this before. Her pressures are 114. I have never seen anybody that is still alive after something like that." When I heard that, again, I was relieved to know what was going on, but then my thoughts all turned to, okay, now what? What do we do?

He's the one that recommended me and sent me immediately down to UC Health in Denver to see Dr. Todd Bull. Dr. Bull was actually the one that gave me the very specific diagnosis. It was so scary. I couldn't believe what he was telling me about and talking about and getting me on medications and this had to happen and I had to start diuretics. It was overwhelming and at times, it still can be. Back then, boy, I was scared to death literally because, of course, you hear things like that and you start thinking, okay, well, let me look on the internet and let me see what's going on. That makes it even worse. It was just a very scary time for me.

I was put on Revatio, which is a pretty familiar drug to everyone. I had to sleep with oxygen at night. Other than that, that's how we started treating it. I saw Dr. Bull probably, once every three months. Every doctor's appointment requires an echo beforehand to see where I was at. When I think back to those days and realize that I was only on one medication therapy and hoping and praying that all the time that it would work, and I think it did to an extent. It helped tone down, for lack of a better term, some of the symptoms. I at least felt like I was on the right track and I was going down the right path to where I could get this under control. Again, there was still that scary thought of, okay, there isn't a cure out there and so regardless of what I go on, I'm going to have all of this forever basically.

It was difficult and easy at the same time because like I said, I was only taking one drug, and that was in 2008. I was not getting better, but I felt like I was a little more stable. Probably one of the worst years I had was 2013. I started feeling worse. It was horrible. The shortness of breath was unimaginable. Just to be able to walk across the room and be short of breath from that and have to sit down, not to mention just being able to do other everyday tasks were becoming a lot more difficult for me.

In 2012, I was in and out of the hospital with getting fluid off and doing all of these things that are normally associated with helping to ease the PH. I just kept getting more and more ill. I just felt like I couldn't do anything. It was hard to maneuver. It was hard to move. I certainly couldn't do anything like cleaning or cooking or anything of that nature. I was admitted to the hospital in April of 2013. That's when Dr. Bull made the decision that I became the first patient he had that had a pacemaker implanted. That was first in April, and then I recovered a couple of weeks from that.

That's when I was put on Remodulin and got the line that goes into my system. That was scarier to me than being diagnosed, and I didn't think there'd be anything more scarier than that. When I knew that I had a line of medication going into my body that I had to be responsible for and be responsible for the changes every 48 hours and all of that, I was, oh my gosh, I don't even know if I can describe how absolutely panicked I was because I kept telling my husband, "I didn't become a nurse for a reason because I don't like all of this stuff. I don't like to have to do things like this, and to be responsible for medications going into my body that is so strong and has so many side effects.” I was terrified. Over the years, I got used to the Remodulin, as used to it as you can be, carrying around that pump and having to be literally tethered to something 24/7.

About a year and a half ago, Dr. Bull put me on Opsumit, as well. I'm on a trio of therapies now. The Remodulin, I truly believe saved my life. Things are looking a lot more positive now. I remember when Dr. Bull told me that I had to have this line put in. I remember him telling me that if I got down to a certain weight that he would consider me for a lung transplant. The weight at that time that he gave me was so far out. I didn't even think about it, because I knew that I didn't feel like that was something that I could achieve. I always knew that I needed to lose weight, but with all of this going on, it was just not something that I wanted to focus on, and I chose to not focus on it. As a result gained even more weight, quite a bit more weight than when I was diagnosed.

Last February, so 2018, I was in a doctor's appointment with him and they gave me the regular spiel of you would feel better if you lost weight and so forth. For some reason, in that appointment, something clicked and I thought, I've got to do something about this because I've got children. I've got grandchildren that I want to be able to see for a long time. I need to take this part a little more seriously because I hadn't in the past. That afternoon when we were driving back from Denver, I told my husband, and he had heard it before, he has never been one to push me into dieting or anything like that, but I knew in my heart that it was different.

I came home. I had gotten the approval from Dr. Bull to do light exercise. I found a used recumbent bike and that very next day, I started using it. I could barely do anything on it. After five minutes at the lowest level of resistance, I was done after 10 minutes. But I kept on it every day and kept getting stronger and stronger and am still doing it now. I've upgraded to a better bike, and I've lost almost 120 pounds. I really feel that that coupled with the therapies that I'm on is really making a difference. I feel healthier.

The one thing I will say is I think in my head, I thought, well, maybe it'll make my symptoms better and I'll get better and I'll feel better, and I still am short of breath, and I still have those symptoms, and I still have the side effects from the medications. I think those are things that I know I'm going to have to continue to live with, but I feel a little bit more capable of handling this whole situation now that I have gotten this much weight off. It really has made a difference. I know that I've read about people that have lost the weight and it made a difference. I thought, well, I don't know. Maybe it will. Maybe it won't. I can honestly say that it has.

I'm Mira Dean, and I'm aware that I'm rare.

Learn more about pulmonary hypertension trials at www.phaware.global/clinicaltrials. Never miss an episode with the phaware® podcast app. Follow us @phaware on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, YouTube & Linkedin Engage for a cure: www.phaware.global/donate #phaware #ClinicalTrials @antidote_me

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#pulmonary hypertension #phaware #rare disease #lung disease #clinical trials #podcast #PH #asthma

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averagelizajane-blog · 5 years

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Counting Blessings

It’s nearly 11pm on Thursday and my eyes hurt I’m so sleepy. I’m angry because I’ve been up since 5am and going NONSTOP; I passed exhausted on Monday and hit zombie-teacher-mom-tired by Tuesday night. As usual, my two kids were in bed by 9pm, but I’m forced to stay awake until 11pm, again, tonight, as I do every night, night after night, every.single.day.

I can’t remember the last time I wrote a blog. Life took over. I’ve been REALLY wanting to sit down and share an update, but between starting a newish job (8th Grade English) and juggling the typical everyday grind – I haven’t been able to make it happen.

So why now? What made me actually sit down in front of my computer … It’s NOVEMEBER! My favorite month due to Thanksgiving & Prematurity Awareness Month! AAAANNNNDDDD, even though I am struggling A LOT with my sleep, my weight, my organization, my parenting skills, and my overall wellness, I have much to celebrate. I was reminded of the extent of my blessings tonight when I pushed Anne-Marie’s two nighttime medications into her feeding tube, and I use the term “pushed” literally! There was a time when we couldn’t actually push the syringe down with any kind of tiny force. We would need to gently and SLOWLY move the top of the syringe down very carefully because the smallest amount of anything into her stomach would cause her to vomit. Now, I give her medicines as quick as possible so I can get to bed! So, as I sit here and think of ALL we have overcome in just three and half short years, I cannot help but get a little emotional.

A RECAP

My second daughter Anne-Marie is a miracle.

I used to hesitate using the term miracle (I actually didn’t like it) because I never felt like I “deserved” one. As ridiculous as it sounds, I felt that God couldn’t possibly perform a miracle in my life. I was raised going to church, but that didn’t equate to being spiritually mature or confident in my knowledge of God. I knew the basics, but that’s it. Therefore, I knew God doesn’t only work miracles for “good” people, he sees everyone as worthy … but I couldn’t help but feel inadequate. It is extremely difficult to put into words, but the best way I can describe it is I felt God had way more important prayers to answer than mine. Almost 4 years ago when I had a life-threatening pregnancy complication (preeclampsia with HELLP syndrome) and had a premature baby, I very much felt more “lucky” than the recipient of a miracle.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

I did have faith and I did wholeheartedly pray for a miracle, but I was unable to TRULY believe 100% that my prayers would be answered; I was scared my baby would die. Anne-Marie was born at 25 weeks gestation. She weighed 14.8 ounces. She was 10 inches long. In other words she was smaller than TINY – about the size of my iphone 8 plus with my case. She had an Apgar score of 2 and it took a skilled neonatal team 5 tries at intubation, but she survived the initial birth. In addition to her traumatic yet miraculous start, there are several other details from “early on” that stand out as being heaven sent…

**My best friend Maggie saved my life. Besides being intellectually gifted, she’s intuitive. She knew what was going on with me and my pregnancy. When my symptoms and bloodwork became alarming, she made sure I got the care I needed. I am so naïve, I was going to go to my local hospital. (Not knocking them at all – but I needed a hospital with a level IV NICU) Maggie insisted I go to Duke. She’s knowledgeable in her field of women’s health and knew I needed to be monitored at a hospital equipped for a micropreemie delivery. She sat in on a meeting while I was being admitted and helped put all the pieces of the puzzle together. Plus, she was the calming presence that can only come from a trusting friend, which was exactly what Bradley and I needed during such a scary time. Without a shadow of a doubt, Maggie was put into my life so many years ago for several reasons, and I choose to believe one of those reasons was to save my life at age 31.

**Prior to delivery, when I was being monitored like crazy for seizures, I vividly remember laying in my hospital room wide awake (very alert to be on Magnesium Sulfate) praying to God that they wouldn’t deliver Anne-Marie on my Leah’s birthday. My worst nightmare was for Anne-Marie to not make it and then every year, I’d have a birthday (Leah) and the anniversary of a death on the same day. Well, once again I am thanking God for unanswered prayers because as it turned out, Anne-Marie did need to be delivered on Leah’s birthday. It’s actually a pretty cool blessing. I take it as a pretty big sign from God that He is ultimately in control; I am forever reminded to trust him.

**Anne-Marie spent nearly 7 months in the NICU. She was very sick during part of that time. There is one day in particular that is difficult to think about. She was about 2 weeks old. The “honeymoon” phase was over and her breathing wasn’t great. Her team wanted to change her breathing tube out to the next size up. I don’t really know in medical terms what triggered this event, but I believe she just couldn’t handle the stress of being extubated then reintubated. I walked into the room and the lights were up bright (unusual) and people were all around her isolette. A respiratory therapist was bagging her, a was nurse were administering medicine, doctors were having a discussion, the social worker was trying to make me feel comfortable, and a separate nurse was logging everything they were doing into a laptop on a cart (very unusual). Anne-Marie was unstable. The medical team was anticipating the worst. A hospital chaplain came to ask me if I wanted Anne-Marie to be baptized. That was when everything hit me. I asked one of her doctors if I should call my husband. He responded that my daughter was very sick and she could die at any moment. My memories from the rest of the day are a little blurry, but I remember Bradley driving straight from work and being there in his dirty, greasy work uniform. We spent the night (without sleep) in a room off the side of the waiting room because Anne-Marie was in critical condition. I remember texting everyone who I thought would legit get on their knees and say an honest prayer for Anne-Marie and asking them to PLEASE pray for Anne-Marie. It is weird feeling, needing something SO SO MUCH, yet being so helpless. In that moment, when I sincerely knew people were praying for Anne-Marie, me and Bradley, and our situation – a sense of peace came over me – one that can only come from God.

FASTFORWARD (to more miracles!):

It hasn’t always been easy, but Anne-Marie is now thriving. This is the first time I can actually say that. Before, when people would ask how Anne-Marie was, I would say, “Great!” only because that was the easiest thing to say. Now, it is the truth. Now, Anne-Marie tolerates all her tube feeds; no more vomiting. She still requires a tube feed every 3 hours and it still takes an hour to complete so a lot of her time is still spent feeding – but at least she isn’t suffering anymore. (Anne-Marie threw-up multiple times a day for the first couple of years of her life. This is not an exaggeration. It was extremely sad to witness.) And sure, I have an occasional headache dealing with prescriptions/ insurance/ refills/ pump supplies – but overall it is not too bad, not anything like it used to be. Anne-Marie has made strides in all areas of her development: She is eating more smooth purees by mouth, tolerating new sensory stimulation easier (loud noises, crowds, hand-washing, brushing teeth, etc.), and, most excitedly, she is TALKING!! It’s been a LONG time coming, but another prayer has been answered.

This is the most recent picture I have of Anne-Marie. She is at school celebrating Thanksgiving with her teacher and classmates.

Side-Note (necessary to FULLY grasp the magnitude of this answered prayer):

I am impatient, like really impatient, just ask my husband…

Call it a mother’s instinct, call me pushy or crazy, I don’t care … but I knew it, I knew Anne-Marie wanted to talk. I could see it in her eyes. I read online about Augmentative and Alternative Communication, more specifically, Speech Generating Devices (SGDs), and strongly believed that it was going to be Anne-Marie’s pathway to oral speech. I was optimistic but sadly, not many of Anne-Marie’s “key players” wanted to listen. I’d continuously pitch the idea of getting a tablet to help Anne-Marie talk to anyone who would listen: my husband, her teachers, insurance people, her doctors, my friends at work, and even her SLPs, but unfortunately they were all reluctant. All of the non-medical/speech/ educational people would reply with the worst response ever, “She’ll talk, then you’ll want her to shut up!” (I cringe --- it’s like telling a woman who is having trouble getting pregnant, ohh you just need to relax and it will happen.) I never took it personally, because I know the individuals meant well, and they didn’t know it would hurt my feelings, but it did nonetheless. Responses like that are hurtful because what if she never talked, that happens you know. And then when I asked all of the professionals who knew Anne-Marie about SGDs and AAC therapy, they were polite enough, but I never felt 100% heard. I do not think they were opposed to Anne-Marie having an iPad necessarily, I just feel like their primary focus for Anne-Marie was somewhere else at the time. And to their credit, maybe it should have been. However, I wanted her to have an iPad to help her talk and I wanted it immediately. She needed it. When I’d talk to her, I could read her eyes… she had so much going on, so many thoughts, so much to say, but she couldn’t – she didn’t have the right tools… laminating pictures and using PECS and Velcro just wasn’t cutting it (for Anne-Marie & no pun intended – lol).

So, Anne-Marie had a speech evaluation done at Duke on August 2, 2017. Even though goals to trial AAC devices and begin AAC therapy were recommended at that evaluation, Anne-Marie did not have her first therapy appointment to late July 2018. For an entire year, I waited while feeling helpless. The insurance people and the entire staff at Duke’s Speech and Audiology department know me by first name. I called and appealed and emailed and cried and met face-to-face with a supervisor. I’d give up and quit fighting for what Anne-Marie needed. I’d doubt myself, then try again. Month after month. My only mistake was not trusting God’s timing.

Anne-Marie got her “talker” in June. My parents bought it for her out of pocket because we (my mom and I) were determined we could watch YouTube videos and at least make a little progress. Plus we wanted Anne-Marie to have it when school began in August. We wanted the whole word to know just how smart she was! As of the past couple of weeks, Anne-Marie does NOT need her talker! She only needs to have it for breakdowns of communication. SHE IS TALKING!! Not just saying sounds à she is actually talking! My daughter can tell me with her sweet voice, “I love you!”

I do not want my message to be misinterpreted – I do not believe AT ALL that the “talker” (Speak for Yourself App) alone was the sole reason for such a rapid progression of oral speech. Anne-Marie has been in Early Childhood Special Education for the past 1.5 years. She gets speech therapy at school, in a clinic in town, and at Duke which are all HUGE factors! In addition, my mom is like an unofficial 1:1 teacher/OT/PT/SLP wizard who works magic with Anne-Marie. My mom often scrolls Pinterest and TpT for activities. She spends many quality hours with Anne-Marie each day. My mom has three drawers in my kitchen crammed full of Anne-Marie’s “Nana’s school” materials. I frequently come home to beans, water beads, pom-poms, etc. on my floor and my mom cutting out a new sorting activity that she has printed off for Anne-Marie. My mom is a saint in every sense of the word. She along with Anne-Marie entire village are major pieces to her miracle.

Sooo HAPPY THANKSGIVING to me!

On this World Prematurity Day, I choose praise God Almighty from Him all blessings flow … and the blessings are bountiful. I choose to focus on what is GOOD as opposed to what is stressful. Anne-Marie still requires a lot of specialized attention and takes a lot of out of us, BUT…

*I have a spouse who loves me unconditionally

*I have parents who love me and my kids and would do anything within reason for us

*I have an extended support system like no other

*I live in America where my special needs child receives medical assistance

*I have a job that fulfills me

*I have faith & comfort knowing God is with me in troubled waters

*I have an almost 4-year-old who is talking!

*I HAVE A MIRACLE!

#micropreemie #worldprematurityday #prematurityawareness #lifeafternicu #teachermom #thankful #findingfaith #november #feedingtubeawareness #developmentaldelay #apraxia #AAC #speakforyourself #amateurblog #positivevibes #intentionalthinking #mindovermatter

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tumblunni · 6 years

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AAAAGH internet

Cmon maaaaan give me a breaaaaak

Im STILL wasting loads of money on mobile internet cos this is TWICE ive called them and they said theyd send a repairman and ive waited abd then no repairman and i call them and they say "nope no record of booking a repairman here"

This is now my THIRD ATTEMPT and its been a week and im officially 100% broke thanks to this

And i barely even have any mobile internet left and i dont have any more money to buy more until the 25th aaaaagh! I KNEW it was bad to do something for my birthday, i knew i should have just stayed at home like a sad sack and saved the money just in case...

AUUUUUGHHHHH

And now i just found out i dont have anyone giving me a lift to the Integrated Autism Team meeting on wednesday and i cant afford a taxi and itd be SO STRESSFUL on the bus because its like three buses to a place ive never been before and then a mile long walk thru twists and turns to find this place and GAHH i wouldnt eveb have taxi money in case i get lost AND my mobile data will probably be gone by then so i cant even use goog maps...

And ive asked to borrow money from my friends SO MANY TIMES LATELY so i'd feel so awful doing it again! And i havent even paid back the last 15 bucks a friend gave me for that stupid situation where i got lost at 2am and needed a taxi home.

aAAAAAAGH

But on the 25th i get my Big Main Monthly Payment and hopefully all this shit will be sorted by then so i wont have any more Huge Spending Out Of Nowhere Moments and i can just finally pay everyone back! Like man i cant even give u guys fanart as thanks cos no internet means i can only badly photograph stuff on my phone and i cant give you a Big Cool Coloured Version

But aaaaagh at least i accomplished a one thing today i guess?? I talked to the Scary New Support Workers and they turned out to be Really Nice Actually. A team called FORT which stands for something something THERAPY probably maybe. There were two of them and they were Super Cool Young Doods named Bryony and Evan. And it was stressful having to talk in big detail about my childhood abuse AGAIN and my ptsd AGAIN to new people who needed to ask EVEN MORE invasive questions. But they were just SO nice about it! They straight up actually asked my gender pronouns and were supportive when i explained it to them and just aaaaaa *sigh of relief so huge i straight up melt into atoms and blow away on the wind*

I like.. Actually got to talk to them about how it added a huge extra level of stress at park road that people were really inconsiderate and quite prying about my LGBTness ans such. And how absolutely great it is to meet some medical professionals who care about being welcoming to diverse patients! Like i absolutely understand people not understanding my gender, i mean i am a minority within a minority after all. But god its so refreshing to just be able to..like..explain it rather than defend it? I dont have to "prove" it exists?? Constantly with different people every day?? And be told that its too difficult for them to remember?? Just getting basic levels of consideration was so great and i feel so much more able to trust them.

Also Bryony had really cool style like the sort of "librarian chic" i always aim for. And she was the main support worker while Evan was her assistant so i didnt talk to him much, but he's a Cool Gamer Dude and we had a fun small chat about how the Ps4 is a terrible beast machine that chugs along with train noises that almost block out the game XD and he was wearing a cool vault tec company logo thing and is excited about the new fallout, so yay! Neither of them play pokemon but they listened to me babble about how the new game lets you give pikachu LITTLE HAIRCUTS and Bryony was like "wow technology has come so far" and i think i actually got her a little interested in getting back into the series, haha? Anyway it was just nice to end a stressful conversation about illness and trauma with a few gaming babbles, lol.

Still have a huge stress headache tho and i wish this wasnt so early in the morning cos now its kinda left me exhausted before the day's even begun. But i feel proud that i was able to do the stressful THIRD TIME CALLING THE DAMN INTERNET GUYS right after this other stressful thing! Tho i did manage to handle it but i think maybe it was too much at once and thats why the big headache. Hope these pain meds kick in soon! I need to finally have my late breakfast cos maybe having them on an empty stomach is why theyre so slow? I aint know science!

So umm yeah that went mostly okay and im hopeful that these new support workers will be good because they said theyre focused more on extracurricular activities like classes and voluntary work and social groups to meet other people with similar mental illness. They left me a few leaflets to look through so hopefully i can understand it all a bit more then? But i feel proud of myself cos it wasnt too long ago that i was too scared to have meetings with anyone inside my own living room, and now ive done it a grand total of twice! And also spoken to annoying tech support on the most stressful phone conversation three wholee times! Just..please dont make it four ok...

Ok now bunni go lie down again. Instead of making breakfast. Because seriously this day has already felt too long and its only been two hours...

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penguinrecovery96 · 6 years

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5th March

So today I had a psychiatric appointment. It was the first act of mental health involvement since returning home 8 months ago.

My friend came with me thankfully which made it easier. I wasn’t going to but I got her to come with me into the room because I just knew with the level of anxiety I was experiencing I just needed someone else there otherwise I would have fully brokedown.

She asked about my past and current experiences with mental health, what therapies and medical interventions. We went through how my borderline is currently affecting me such as symptoms and frequency I am having. We spoke about self harm and suicidal behaviours briefly. I told her about the images relating to me harming myself and how intense and scary they are. We then spoke about food and eating issues. She was asking all about my relationship with food, what I do and basically about when it all started. I tried to be honest about it but it was difficult. These are things that it is scary to talk about. Ive never felt like it was an issue or enough of an issue to really tell anyone. Or if I have had spoken to a professional about it I feel they have just brushed it aside because I don’t have a BMI of 19 or less.

She basically went through and asked me about what I would like to happen now and to be honest I just want any kind of psychological input that is offered to me and soon because I don’t want to be out of work forever and I cannot work right now. I can’t live like this and I need some actual support which I haven’t actually received since I did the adult attachment interview with CAMHS in 2011.

She said that she wants me to go back on Sertraline. I do have my concerns just because when I was on it last year it didn’t work at all which professionals reckon is due to the Keppra that I was on for my epilepsy (that definitely amplified the suicidal thoughts). I agreed but I am going to massively monitor it because I don’t want this to be a pointless trial and wasted efforts.

She then moved on to talk about the eating. She tried to massively hint towards me getting therapies specifically for that before any therapy. She wants me to have bloods done once a month. When she moved on to the letter she was going to write to my GP she said “by the way, this will contain an eating disorder diagnosis”. She took this majorly “nicey-nicey” approach as if I was this massively fragile being. Im sorry but I need psychiatrists of all people to be honest and blunt with me straight away. If you are going to diagnosis then tell me don’t just pitter patter around it. When you struggle to ground yourself and dissociate then you need to know exactly what is going on with your mind and your body so that you can begin to heal.

I am still in the headspace that its not an eating disorder. I may have disordered eating or it may not be functional but mine isn’t that bad. It could be a lot worse.. I don’t know.

I have to wait for the letter to come back, see my GP and find out who my care coordinator is.

Appointments are draining and so many thoughts rushing through my head/ Why does it have to be me that has a fucked up head urgghhhh

#psychiatrist #mental health #bpd

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jordyx1000 · 7 years

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Scorpion Mouth. Celebrating the Inner Self - Exist.

Whoa, How do you start a conversation with yourself. Something you haven't had in a long time. I firstly, get some tobacco and turn on Spotify. Hold on.

The Date: October 28th. 2017. I haven't touched this thing, since the last time I felt alone. Notice how I say feel? I am completely not alone, I have you. You are hearing my mind right now, through my fingers, transcribed to a monitor. Through your eyes, the light shines. Receptors balance the emotions, context. They bend your muscles, in accordance, you have a reciprocated attack. What happened to me this year. Well, for starters, I got honorably discharged from the navy. I Served 8 solid years. Loved, hated it...just like everything else I suppose. I reluctantly got home. I didn't want to go “home”. In my mind, my family needed it more then I did. I felt like I returned for them. With my selfishness aside, oh selfishness, what have you done. We will talk about you later. Noone knows the true meaning of starting over, until you literally start over in a new world. That is what it felt like. What is the first thing you do, when you return, try and adapt, survey the land...analyze the roads to which you will be traveling soon. Try and remember everything, tips and tricks. Reconnect with the people who said that they wish you were back home. Of course that novelty wears off, “the new guy” suddenly becomes the same guy, just years later. That is fine, that is expected, that is life. That was my life for years and years. What do you do for work? Man, I basically just milked my funds, lived off the land. Traveled, reconnect, travel, reconnect. Months. Then reality sets in, you become apart of the machine and meld into the landscape. This isn't why I came here though, to talk about life. Or the normality of life. The things that everyone goes through.

I came here for the end. The opposite of life. Death. The death, the rot, the muscle spasm-twitch, eyes roll back, decomposition. I came here to talk to you about what its like to watch something die. I wanna talk about CPR, breathing in, out, watching the lungs fill and shrink. Watching the skin start to fade in color. The tears, the constant overwhelming feeling of watching something you love, fade into the unknown. The future of life. but the death of it at the same time. Such a weird paradox to me, to think, something can die, and become unknown, within the actually living to die, and fade to the unknown.

I wandered a bit. In the darkness. To me at that point, it wasn't dark. Looking back, it was very dark. Something really weird happened to me. Randomly, it makes me so sick at how random it was. I guess I will start with the real reason I came here.

Sometime in May, I met the love of my life. I say that with a lot of weight, I knew from the very second I met her, I loved her. She moved, so beautifully. But with a slight anger, a slight badass blend. It wasn't like I was looking at a golden angel, wings spread. It was like I was watching a real, raw, human, skin and all. It didn't take long for me to realize, she has a lot of darkness in her. I liked that, in a sick way. I love the idea, of someone spilling their guts about how raw life can be. The true feelings. Not some tv show, not staged. Just raw. My life, was dark, but it wasn't that dark. My problems were normal problems. She had a baby, only a month old. I didn't like the idea at first, I probably expressed that in an ackward way. I actually was very wary about it. To the point, where I would contemplate texting her. Up until this point, it was a deal breaker. Something about her drew me in, I could write words all day to the feeling I felt, but I sincerely cant. I am not skilled enough to draw up human emotions like that. I decided very early on, that I would try and do everything I could, to build her spirits. Like a fucked up project. That I loved. So fucking much. Just to talk about things, life, real fucking life. I knew about a week in, she had a drinking problem. The subject of anxiety was brought up, played off, you know. Noone wants to overload someone with so many different things like that. It is scary, I know I wouldn't. In my head, I knew she was taking pills and drinking. I just didn't want to think it was an issue. I just buried it. I should have left that first week though, that concert was horrible. Some of the worst times ive ever had. Completely lost control of my situation. I don't think I ever fully recovered from that. I just buried it

We would go on walks, and talk about life. One subject in particular was the subject of her daughter, the creation of her daughter, and the future. Where was her dad? I remember vividly thinking, she probably doesn't want him in her life, and he wants too. I couldn't imagine being a new dad, and not seeing my kid. This isn't the 70′s. You don't want to perceived as a douche bag via social media. That can ruin your social standing. with life. In my head I knew he wanted to be in the picture. I also remember her, telling me, he wants nothing to do with her. I said, “So what happens when he gets alittle bit older”. Of course, the natural defense, she says, “Noway, he is a fuck”. Probably alittle more summarized, but you get the jyst, I had a full adult conversation, unselfishly delving deeper into her mind about it. Ha, selfish. I remember you. I'm going to take a break for a second. Before I get into the meat, the heavy, darkness that ensues.

Ok, I am back. the time 8:20 pm.

I don't edit. I don't reread. So I apologize completely. I feel like all that nonsense, takes away from what really matters. What is my perception. What is my vision of the world around me. I am not trying to be biased, or sway judgement, I promise to be 100% fair and just.

I get it, so far you probably feel like something was wrong with me for dealing with the little stuff, if I felt so weird about it. There was something wrong with me, and it wasn't her. So far from her. I wasn't using her darkness to feel better about myself. I wish I could, at not one point did I feel like I was capable of feeling good about myself. I dated a girl, for three years, a hard 3 years. Just two people, trying to figure out life. It ended weirdly, so in my mind, I knew there were things I needed to change. I was depressed. So depressed. The reasons I came home, for being there for my family, turned quickly into realizing, I wasn't really needed here. I could have went anywhere, and everything would have been just fine. That set in so hard. To fully understand you weren't as needed as you thought you were going to be. But I am grown, for seconds in the week, it would flash flood my mind, and as quickly as it was there, it was gone. For split seconds, I would let myself revert back into that mode. I wasn't doing anything, just thinking, no friends to keep my mind off of the shit. I miss that aspect so badly. That got me through everything, someone saying something stupid to laugh at. Someone going through something difficult to make you realize its not so bad.

Wow, this song. “You stay above me forever, like you stay above me now”

Dear in the headlights. Midwestern Dirt. Fucking crazy I'm hearing this. Music helped me, it helped me and her. not once did we hate each other through the music. You cannot lose that. I realize that now. When you love something, you hold it tightly. I wouldn't say I am a romantic person. I love seeing the girl I'm with happy. I do have this jealousy problem, where I get annoyed when someone else makes my girl happier then I do. I guess, I don't get upset that she is happy, I get upset with myself that I didn't blow that shit out the water and make her happier. Does that make me psychotic? is that normal? How do you google that to see. I never would want something bad to happen to anyone. But sometimes, I do wish things that have happened to me, that they have caused, would happen to them. I guess that's fucked up.

She wasn't a bad person, she isn't a bad person. She was going through a lot of things. I thought I was badass, I thought I was gonna be able to take care of all this shit. My dude hands. handling business. But you slowly realize, no matter how much you have helped people in your life, sometimes, you don't know all of the answers. The biggest problem I have in my life, is getting frustrated that I cannot fix things. I have heard so many times in my life “slow down” “take a breath”. I get frustrated. Panicked. Nervous. annoyed. That whole aspect stretched from making breakfast, to talking to the one you love. It fucked me up. in the end. You don't really grasp it. Until you write it down. When so many things pile up, before you can fix the first instance, it gets out of hand to me. melt down. I say things I don't mean out of frustration. anger. I wish it was something anger management could help with, but I have to much pride to think I cant fix something on my own. How do you even start? Ok break time. 8:40pm

841pm I was thinking again. The direction. The timeline. A few weeks of us hanging out, the news came. Ol’ Boy wants a bit of custody with his daughter. She was in tears. Devestated. I didn't console enough, I knew this day was going to come. No dude, in his right mind wants to not see something he created. I don't care who you are. I remember hearing again, how much of a piece of shit he was for this. I defended him, and remember vividly, getting scolded. taking his side. That conversation was brought up a number of times as an “arguemenet” I created. Sincerely trying to be rational, and reasonable. That isn't what you do to a girl, going through that I thought. She is right, she needs me to defend her, talk shit about him. I just couldn't do it. 8:45pm

851pm This is amazing. The feeling, of talking without worrying about what the fuck I say.

I want to take it back to the best seconds of our connection. I remember standing in that room. Her baby, in her arms. I just held her for the first time, my girl loved it. I remember so clearly her eyes, they were filled with desire. We never did anything but hug before then, I was scared beyond belief. Never once in my life, have I been worried about a physical connection. She needed it, I needed it, the icing on the cake for us. The third arm to this perfect triangle. I hesitated. And failed. Stupid. I feel like we already did, I felt like we made the most beautiful love through our eyes. All the feeling that comes from it, was there, we both knew it. All but the physical sensation, that mentality never left. Months later, we still made love like that. Passionate. Through the eyes. It wasn't two people trying to be in a porno, it was two people so connected. I don't think I could top that, as sad as it is. That third arm. It was there, 33% of our relationship was perfect. flawless. I remember slowly going outside with her, laying down on that blanket. Commiting myself to a literal perfect existence. If there was a good version of selling your soul to the devil, that is what I felt. I completed a part of life that day. feeling the heaviest amount of passion, I have ever felt. 8:57pm

9:06pm Ok, Yah, that was amazing. Still think about that time everyday. That was the sole memory that kept me alive. Mentally. You couldn't top it. Something out of a movie. I felt smooth, sauve, but it was just us, together, full of passion. That doesn't happen to everyone. I am blessed I got to feel that. She was drinking those days. I was being unsupportive. I didn't understand the problem until recently. Right before mediation actually. When we talked. She was freaking out, didn't ask me how my day was, just completely went on this rant about how her therapist wouldn't talk to her. I didn't realize the significance, until that point. I am incredibly ashamed that I didn't. I knew it was a problem, but didn't grasp it. Sometimes I stay ignorant by choice. Complaining about everything you think is shit, doesn't do anything. Sometimes just keeping it locked away, works. it didn't for this. not at all. I didn't grow up in a home where therapy was “needed”, although looking back, it would have helped...and I probably wouldn't be writing about all this now. I failed her in that sense, not understanding enough. it isn't that I didn't want to, it is just the complete unknown. It doesn't register to me, as something that needs to be addressed, because I lived a whole life without hearing about it. I don't consider that being selfish, not once did I feel like I was better then her. Not once did I feel like I had no problems, even though I was told I thought I was flawless. Told I need to look in the mirror. I guess you could read these, and understand I looked in the mirror a lot. Not many dudes, almost 30, take the time on their Saturday night to write on tumble. not a lot of dudes are as intune to their minds and how things work like I am. I am by no means saying I am better then them, I'm just saying I have tried my hardest to understand. whether it is right or wrong. I have tried...so fucking hard. I don't blame her for her addiction, I asked if it was an addiction early on. I was told it wasn't. I couldn't play ignorant. Another instance where I wasn't making my girl happier then what her pills make her. That is really fucking sad to me. And when I cant fix something, I lose my cool. Ive known that forever. I'm not saying she is the cause, I am just saying, for the first time in my life, I'm talking with someone who amps me up to the point where I am hurting someones feelings. I would never physically hurt anyone. I would never tell someone they are good for nothing. I would never tell someone to kill themselves. I would, and did, tell someone they are weak. The saddest moment in my life. To judge someone, based on their own encounters. Fucked up. I regreted that conversation, from the beginning. I remember asking her to stop taking medicine, or don't talk to me. Why? Was that selfish? To want someone to get better? I am at a stand still with understanding that. 9:17

9:31pm I always why we never did anything creative together. I know we both wanted too. Collaborate. Do something amazing. Apart of me thought, she is just going through too much right now, the last thing she wants to do is stretch her already stretched mind. It is intimidating, knowing someone is going through so much. The balance, the middle ground. Of course, of fucking course, I do some fucked shit and say something I don't mean, and that careful tight rope that I delicately tried to balance, begins to rattle and shake. “Don't do that again, you are going to kill us.” I like to think, no one rememebers the good steps of the tight rope, only the sections where your life is in danger. Even though, your life stays constantly in danger. you don't say, “Well I almost died, but those first good steps were so good”. That isn't the human way. We automatically lash out at the chance. You didn't died, but you almost did. ontop of almost dying just by walking acrossed it in the first place. Those kind of thoughts, goon me up. 9:35pm

9:36.

Am I a monster? Jordon surrey, are you a fucking monster. Are you a menace. A psychotic, sociopath?

I keep writing the times. I save it, and then take a second to breath. turn to a different song. This is the most ive written in one session in years and years. I remember when my mom put a word processor in my room. I would write stories. “They gotta make a movie about this”. I wish I still had those. I couldn't imagine what they would say. Kids are lucky, or is that lucky? So have everything you have ever written saved? My ex girlfriend of 3 years came into the picture pretty quickly. Those messeges were saved. Every conversation we ever had. The girl I was with, she read them. What does that do to the dynamic? she has you figured out? Comparing you now, to the you then. without any sort of context but words you wrote. She judged me on those. That was a dark feeling to me. So vunerable, and yet so misunderstood. I don't want to talk about that anymore. It shouldn't have happened. I don't think its selfish to be upset with that, those are not conversations like this. This is pure, mental, public, words. Those were between two people, who were on an unimaginable plane of existence. You cant look at those, and compare. They mean nothing out of context. I speak my mind, me and her, we didn't have the passion me and this girl did. it wasn't the same, but it was what I knew. for years and years. it takes a minute to realize that isn't the girl you were talking to. You wont ever know who that girl was, and that is the saddest part. 942pm

946

I don't really know, if I am a monster. Or what we be happening right now if things were different. If I handled things differently. The main issues were still there. I think if the timeline didn't play out, I think she would still be drinking. Or maybe not, maybe she drank because of me. I hate bringing up the fact she drank, because who the fuck cares. She can drink? it is her body. it is her life. if she wants to do that, she can. If I didn't know her, I wouldn't give a fuck less if she drank. I hated it. I despised when she drank. It was so unattractive to me. It is like holding, the perfect red, shiny apple. Such a great shape. Smell. You want to bite it. But then you turn it around...and its rotten. You have to eat around it...but you cant get close...you don't want that shit even near to your mouth. You had to address that It was there, had to try and get rid of it. Digging it the fuck out. layer by layer, until you hit the core. I knew it was an issue. it was clear as day. Not as clear as my own issues, but it was something that needed to be addressed. I cant remember an argument not consisting of drinking. Such a waste of a good apple. Was that selfish of me? to want to get rid of the rot? Before I bite it, love it, consume it? I don't know. I miss the good times so much. Half way through these months, I realized we were going to get married. Like come on!? I...Jordon surrey, wanted to marry someone. not just say it, not just express it...but need it. Desire it more then anything. What the fuck?!?!? Life is fucked. The death consumes. I have to take a break, before I talk about what is really wrong with me. What I did wrong. 9:45pm

The day comes. Everything is in full effect. The babies father is back in the picture. I'm at work. I get a call after saying that everything went good. he is coming back to the house, and that she knows I'm probably not gonna feel good about it. I don't. Who would. The most secure person, would be insecure about having the babies father in the picture. Especially remembering back to that first kiss. the first time we locked eyes and made mental love. the baby was right there. she was with us. My time was consumed with making sure my girls life wasn't flipped upside down. and instead of hers being flipped upside down, mine was. The father is given the fucking right, to see and be there for his daughter. there is no doubt about that. That is something that has to fucking happen. and to be even slightly upset for him given that chance is bullshit. He deserves it. It dick, created that child. Just as much as her vagina did. He deserves to see his baby girl. But yet, I still remain upset? I can sort through everything in my head, and avoid the anger being about him getting to be there for his daughter. That isn't my place, to take his place. I helped while he was away. I knew he was coming, and the baby needed a father. Yah, I didn't do enough for her, in the sense. I gave everyone space. Because I knew he was coming back. The only thing that sticks into my head, about the anger. Is the fact that, I know nothing about him, besides the negative shit ive heard. I know he was a drug head. Drunk. unsupportive, child. stupid. couldn't spell. didn't like good music. fake. And boom, he is here. I understand the biase. I understand she will talk shit about him. But I don't understand, why everyone gets to learn about him but me. The only one who fucking supported him seeing his fucking daughter. is that selfish? I don't fucking know. but it makes my eyes well up...just thinking about it. I wish I could shake his fucking hand. and tell him I had his fucking back since the start. jesus fucking Christ. I'm so sorry dude. ive met dudes, who didn't get to see there kids for months after they were born...crying. devastated. sad. I couldn't imagine. I got to take a break. 1007

1010

I want to start this by talking about my insecurities. I know her. I know her desire for a normal family. What would be the easiest way for that baby to be happy. If the bio mom and dad....hashed it out. got it together. and started fresh. I feel like a lot of the anger towards me, is coming from this fact. I was justifiably upset. I can be upset. I was allowed no contact with my girlfriend while she is with him. While he is learning to do the things I did. It is a strange society to think that is how shit works. I was starting to feel like this idea of me being a piece of shit, unsupportive person, was to take me out of the picture so she could start fresh with a guy. she stopped drinking. he stopped doing pills. wasn't that the problem? he probably doesn't even know she was in a relationship. It sounds to me, everyone is doing a lot better then they were a year ago. It also sounds to me, that I am abusive, controlling, inconsiderate, unsupportive, selfish. when I have done nothing but put myself into a position where I had to be for months and months. you couldn't function without those things, and I did up until the very day he came back. the very day she saw him for the first time in a year. This is just me talking through my mind. not once am I saying this is what actually is happening. I am clueless. I am just building a text wall based on the thoughts I have. nothing to sway my emotions any other way right now. just pure feeling. 1016

1020

I went to her house the day after he was there for the first time. Clear head. Just wanted to apologize for lashing out, telling her she brought darkness into my life. She did. but she also brought a lot of happiness that to me, weighed out the vibration on the tight rope. I spent about two hours, just playing with the baby. I wanted to take my girl out, do something, go somewhere to breath. get out of the house. we got around to it. and got our things together and left. When we started driving, of course, the father was brought up. she said she thinks it would help if I had a say in trying to decide the days. That had nothing to do with me, I appreciated the gesture, but I am quick to tell someone when I don't think I need that, if I don't need it. That is there plan, that is what parenting time is for. Nothing else. Hashing out the details of how their daughter is going to be taken care of. Learning how to take care of his daughter without the mom there. by himself. I just made the point, that I didn't understand why I couldn't meet him. Why I couldn't meet the dude who has been taking care of the baby that ive been a placeholder for. Yah that's a strong way to put it, I get it, I wouldn't have been a placeholder...I would have been her dad too. In the spur of things, I didn't put it out like that, she snapped, told me she was sick of dealing with two grown ass dudes acting like babies. I kept my mouth shut. She still is talking, god, she never stopped. I was driving back to her house, and she knew that. she knew talking about it still, was just going to make me realize she needs space. So I kept driving her home, pulled in, she was still talking. I sat there, calm. didn't say a word. just followed my breathing. She got out, I snapped for a second, and told her “have fun with a pill head”. Stupid. I went to my edge again, come on man. You had it going so well, just shut your mouth. If she would have been like, “you didn't say anything, I'm mad at you’ she wouldn't have said “you said something so I'm mad at you”. The tight rope was shaking, violently, the walk to that point didn't matter. The fact that I wanted to take her, and do something productive didn't matter. The fact that I didn't say what she wanted me to say, made me selfish. Was I selfish that day? I don't know. 1028

1029 Why does this all upset me. It doesn't really. It is ecpected, when human emotions are fucked with, anything can happen. This isn't a Hollywood movie, where couples jump in the rain after a good solid dinner. It is real life, real problems. I will be the first one two admit. My scorpion mouth fucked shit. Learning how to deal with someone is what it is all about. She couldn't deal with me, so she turned her head. I am realistic, if she has these thoughts about me, nothing I can say will change that. If she wants to think I am a burden, nothing will change that. I am a grown adult, despite what she wants to believe. It isn't hard to say that she could find someone else. Not me, not him, just someone else who fits her better, who is less of a stress to figure out. If it gets to the point where someone doesn't have enough to offer, then move on. It is 2017. People can come and go, easy if you let them. She was worth it to me, but it was impossible for me to stop the vibrating. The shaking near death. My balance wasn't perfect, but it was great. Given the worn rope I walked. I can deal with the hardest punches. I can forgive. I can let go. If I have without a reason of a doubt, that someone doesn't want me around them, I leave. I left a lot with her. A lot of times, it was because she kept drinking. Yah, she didn't say she didn't want me around, but I hated it so much, I felt like she was doing it on purpose to get rid of me. Lately, ive looked into her eyes, and it goes somewhere else. Something else is taking the time. Something else is consuming her. It used to be me. But I became selfish, or atleast I have always been. Have I? what if I never met her. what if we never met, would she still think I was selfish. Would the dude she would be with, be selfish? is everyone alittle bit selfish. of course. Did I intentionally destroy us because that's what I wanted. Did I selfishly kill us? because I needed it? I don't know. I think she thinks, I did it on purpose. with how much she tells me how selfish I am. Was I selfish when I held her baby? Was that for me? did I just want to hold a baby? was I selfish when I talked to her, about everything, when I gave my input. could I have just hung up, or walked away? Could I be selfish now, if I still need her? is that selfish? do I just fuck shit up, to try it again. out of selfishness. Or am I trying? am I being given shit, and working with what I have? is that selfish, so work with what you have?1038

Does the sound of my voice, hurt her so much. Is it worth it to cut someone out? It is if you are not benefiting. Do I not benefit her? Today, she decided I didn't. And that is ok. That is life. You cannot please everyone. They sometimes think you are not trying. and then end up writing a novel. This is by no means, everything. These are just the things that shake my rope. I will continue this tomorrow. The longer I write, the more I miss her. And that doesn't do me any good anymore. The more time that passes, with us like this, the more these things wont matter to her. the more I wont matter to her. And that is fine, if she is happy. then her baby is happy. and that is life. ill be back.

To comprehend In the middle of the night To break a mood Without tearing up my spine The lights dim On my glow How will I move When this sun sets How will I move When the lights go out Without, My glow I cant shut my mouth, When my mind moves, I cant sleep at night, Without your sprawling roots but that is selfish, I saw her grinding teeth on a rusting spoon She is red, she is ready You danced around with no bones You say it always You did it always. I know, You were in love You said it always, You said it always,

My glow.

1047

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samanthasroberts · 7 years

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The Fat Jewâ€™s ‘Money Pizza Respect’ is the worst book Iâ€™ve ever read

I wish I liked the Fat Jews new book. It would make a far more interesting piece if he exceeded our expectations. No one I talked to expected it to be good. I bet he didnt even write it, said one friend. I bet he had his interns write it.

To contextualize this for people who arent on the Internet all the time, Josh The Fat Jew Ostrovsky became the center of controversy when he was accused of stealing memes and jokes from comedians this summer. Ostrovsky had been doing this for years, and amassed millions of Instagram followers with his admittedly excellent meme aggregating skills. But comedians took a stand when he signed with the talent agency CAA in August.

Upon reading Money Pizza Respect, there is no doubt in my mind that the unfortunately titled book is penned by the Fat Jew himself; I confidently assert that MoneyPizza Respect is singlehandedly the worst book I have ever read.

His actual sense of humorand Im talking about humor, not the memes he aggregatesis painfully abject. He relies on a Tucker Max-esque style of storytelling, glorifying cocaine and alcohol abuse and fucking his groupies, who all embody a different type of crazy girl stereotype.

In a chapter ironically titled The Eleven Commandments of Not Being the Worst Person Ever, he warns readers that if you aggressively and frequently talk about your sex life, people will think youre gay. When you tell me that you tackled a slam pig and stuffed her axe wound, he writes, I assume that your actual goal is having anal sex with men. Ostrovsky makes sure to note that the only exception to this rule is Dan Bilzerian, who has literally thrown a woman off his roof, breaking her foot, and been accused of kicking another woman in the face.

Money Pizza Respect is laced with homophobic comments. He writes a note to P. Diddy: Sorry for outing you as a homosexual. Im pretty sure you are, but Im sorry. Theres also a healthy dose of sexism, describing his female groupies as a bunch of fours and fives who have giant lady hands hate their dads. To complete the trifecta, he also manages to be transphobic, referring to transgender women as trannies in a chapter chronicling his brothers bachelor party. (When his brother and friends found out the strippers who were giving them lap dances were trans, they left the club immediately.)

Before I met Ostrovsky, I was confused about how he was so successful, especially after reading his book, where he brags about his selfish and generally gross behavior at every possible moment, proudly displays pictures of him wearing a thong made out of beef jerky, and writes things like, Cocaine is the greatest gift the world has ever seen.

When I sat down with him at a press junket, located at an arcade in Chinatown, I immediately understood why hes garnered so much success. He is unfortunately charming and is actually a naturally funny person. Hes like the cool, mean boy in 8th grade, the type who introduced pot to all your friends and made fun of girls for being ugly or not having boobs yet. The type who definitely bullied me, and yet I tirelessly tried to gain his affection.

During our interview, Ostrovsky remained on the defensive, masterful at answering my questions with non-answers. He is somebody who has never taken life seriously, which is perhaps not too difficult for a straight, white, affluent male. He is fundamentally interested in his conception of fun, and hopes youll join him for the ride. If not, fuck off.

Its not that I began to like Ostrovsky or his book any more after meeting him, but I went from hating him to feeling an iota of pity for him. His flamboyant and unapologetic immaturity, his bratty affect: This is what has brought him success, and what I imagine will be his inevitable downfall.

So my approach for this interview, because I know a lot of people have been shitting on you, is to not shit on you.

No ones been shitting on me.

I was curious about how that affected you emotionally, and how you felt about getting blasted by the media.

It was definitely a shitty situation. Im of the Internet, so its like a lot of people screaming about things. I respect trolling. I respect people screaming at one another, which is why the Internet is so fucking great. I definitely didnt take it personally. It was also something that needed to get talked about. People were not on the same page. Like a 38-year-old comedy writer and a 16-year-old Filipino millennial were not seeing the issue the same way.

I try to look at it like I was the face of the whole thing. I mean the Internet is a giant, lawless fuckin thing. Sometimes we need some rules But not too many. Because that would be weird. No parents. But you know, sometimes people get pissed. I obviously see it from the 16-year-old Filipino millennial side. I dont look for credit on my stuff and I dont ever watermark or anything like that, but I also get the other side too. Im old enough to understand both sides. I just want everyone to be happy so were fuckin partying.

Instagram for fucking photos of dogs playing volleyball in sunglasses and iguanas surfing. I just want to have everyone get heard, fix the problem, and then get back to surfing iguanas. It didnt rock me emotionally because I just saw it as something that needed to be discussed. It definitely got dangerous and exciting at some points. People just get so crazy, theres a portion of people who dont even know what theyre screaming about. I got chased by TMZ. Some guy followed me around a Duane Reade recording my phone call. That was tight.

You liked that?

I kinda felt like Leo , for like a second. It was also scary. No one wants that life. I was trying to look at it like this is a conversation that needed to be had. I didnt look at it as being shit on. The Internet is more important to me than my family or anything. I would love to be with the Internet, have sex with the Internet, I love the Internet. Now its a better place.

Why was it important for you to celebrate drugs, specifically cocaine, in your book?

Its a mixed bag. I refer to it as the best and worst thing ever. Part of the ethos of this book is that its a how-to guide in that its like I dont know what you should be doing but I know what you shouldnt be doing. Ive seen every horrible thing. I basically think you read this book and you dont do coke. Because youre like, its gonna make me unbearable. Like my breath is gonna smell like a diaper and get into a super intense conversation about stuff I dont even care about.

I think it depends on how old the reader is. For me, Ive done coke so I understood more where you were coming from in that it can be great and terrible at the same time. From a teenagers standpoint, it might just look really cool.

It depends. Im pretty explicit that its been responsible for the greatest things that ever happened, but also some of the most horrendous things, too. I think its more self-reflective than it is encouraging.

Your book is provocative is many ways. People are going to interpret some of the content as transphobic and homophobic. I was thinking of the chapter where you refer to trans women as trannies.

I dont know what youre specifically referring to.

You wrote about tranny strippers. Thats a contentious word. Many trans people have spoken out about how hurtful they find that term to be. I was curious about how you would respond to those critics.

is a factual account of what happened. Youre talking about an actual pejorative word?

Yeah. Its a slur. There were a bunch of moments in the book where I read something and immediately thought about how angry it would make social justice activists on the Internet.

Social justice people are angry at everything.

I was wondering if you included some things specifically to be provocative.

No, definitely not. First of all, any social justice person can come at me at any time. I literally have more transgender friends who will vouch for me than anyone. They self-identify as trannies. Ask a transgender who is not a nerd from the Internet how they identify, and I bet you will find hundreds who identify as trannies.

I know transgender folks who identify that way. Its like the N-word. If they call themselves that, its OK. But having a cis person is a different story.

Any person who would find offense in that kind of minutia is not someone who should be reading this book.

Its not your audience, thats probably true.

That shouldnt be anyones audience, as far Im concerned.

As I was reading your book, I was thinking about your crazy drug and sex stories as they relate to Tucker Maxs stories from I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell. Was he somebody who influenced you?

No, thats like bro culture stuff. This is completely different.

Tonally, there were similarities.

Ive never read it, but I also think that in terms of this book, like Ive been living performance art long enough to write a book full of debaucherous stories, but I wanted to go with more pathos, truth. From what I understand from Tucker Maxs stuff, he doesnt really go into too much stuff like that. Not all the stories here are particularly turnt up, as far as Im concerned. There are some that are honest family stories, not every story is about partying.

But a lot of them are.

We can go through it When I was writing it, putting in some emotion and truth, and some real feeling on it, like talking about my mom having sex with Shel Silverstein and being a 9-year-old child actor diva. Shit like that, to me, that is not the same as walking around a bar with a breathalyzer . I dont not relate to it, but Ive never read any of his stuff.

Ostrovsky as a child actor Josh Ostrovsky

Do you differentiate between the Fat Jew as your performative character and yourself as Josh?

No. I dont go home at night and unscrew the hairection , sit down, and listen to This American Life and be like, Oh, what a hard day at work! Being the Fat Jew! No, its all one in the same. To me, that would be disingenuous. I was doing this stuff long before there was anywhere to share it, long before anyone knew about it. Ten years ago, people in New York would be like, Oh thats the Fat Jew, the guy who does crazy stuff. It wasnt something I created and cultivated in order to share on social media for the masses.

But this is your career, this is your passion, but a lot of artists and actors differentiate between their performative self, which is still their self, and who they are when theyre not performing.

Im not an artist or an actor. Im neither.

How do you identify?

Im the only one whos really just going for it. Im genuinely making it up as I go along. I could start a ros company and that could become a real thing. Im about to do the worlds first EDM cologne.

What is that gonna smell like?

I dont know. Thats a good question. Like I dont even know what that means but Im gonna do it. Its 2015. Anything is possible. The world is so ridiculous at this point. I might open a yoga ashram in Toronto. Who knows? Im one of the only people who doesnt consider anything on or off limits. I dont think that it can be defined. We have this human need to compartmentalize, to be like, What are you? But I dont know.

I guess its my job to say, as a writer trying to make sense of what you do.

I dont think theres anything to make sense of. I dont know. What do you think I do?

I think youre a content creator and performer.

Thats vague. But yeah. Im not not. But thats what Im saying. I like to keep people guessing, keep people off kilter. If people think Im a comedian, I will move in a totally different direction and start making cologne. I wanna make people go, What the fuck? Keeping people guessing, keeping genuine conversation going about me, whether its, I dont want to say the word negative, but whatever its gonna be, thats what I am. A conversation starter? I dont know.

Tastemaker?

Conversation piece? Idiot? All of the above?

Whats your goal with your book? Why do you do what you do? Aside from the fact that you just want to do it.

The end goal with the book is that I think I can get some turnt-up 18-year-old to read. Thats the challenge, like, can you get fuckin some kids to read and think its really fuckin chill? Is that doable? Ill literally do it just for that.

Were doing reading raves to promote the book. IRL is what the programs called. Its just like huge DJs and books. Like, can you make them read? I think its doable. I dont think publishing knows how to do it. I dont think parents know how to do it.

So you want to make reading cool?

Kind of. What if Im somehow the guy to do it?

What are your favorite books?

I love Shel Silverstein, and not only because my mom fucked him. Mostly, Im the type to read 100 listicles. Like, what kind of bagel is Rihanna? You know what I mean? One-hundred times Rihanna ate fruit. Im not reading enough books.

No ones reading enough books.

Maybe now? That would fucking weird. To get a fucking 17-year-old whos over it to sit down and read an entire book? I mean I put in some stuff to break up the chapters, like you can color in a picture of Tyrese. I mean, I dont want you to have to read too much.

Illustration by Max Fleishman

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