#i haven’t lost anyone really close to me to covid?

[mr-up-on-a-downer]

This might be too much to ask but how did you open yourself up more socially to get to know people more? Ever since Covid I felt like a zombie and regressed a lot socially, I can hold decent small talk with literally anyone but I don't have the ability to be my authentic cringey self and open up about my weird interests and problems like I did when I was a kid. People no longer view me as a annoying person but in return I'm pretty much a wallflower. I've lost trust alot of people, and it's started to get to me mentally.

Again I apologize if you don't feel like talking about this, you're under no obligation to.

I actually haven’t ngl. Like, I can hold conversations just fine and I’m pretty amicable. I have a weird natural charisma irl believe it or not but, I’m at a point in my life where I just don’t care to try and make friends anymore. People suck and I just don’t have the patience to deal with time wasters. What I have found it’s better to have a few close friends and keep it at that then try and put yourself out there hoping to make a genuine connection because you’re gonna be left high and dry. I’m not saying become a recluse and misanthropic, but ask yourself what you really want from other people.

you can’t just overcome trust issues. It takes time and lots of leaps of faith hoping that someone new isn’t going to be like someone you knew that hurt you. Another person can’t just take that away from you, trust me on this. no one likes to hear this but you need to really work on yourself first before you can even entertain putting yourself out there for the world to see. Build yourself up stronger than before so you can endure that kind of struggle.

It’s only natural to want to be known because humans are social animals but at the same time we fear rejection and the pain that comes along with it. What will you do when that happens is perhaps the most important part of trying to put yourself out there, whether it’s platonic or romantic you’re searching for.

This probably isn’t what you wanted to hear but I’m not gonna bullshit you. This is just the way things are in this world. In an age of social media it seems like people are more lonely than ever, and there’s not really a good answer for dealing with it beyond rolling with the punches.

#anon

[plant-dad-sulu]

Back in April on a Tuesday morning I got a call from my dad

He asked me if I’d gotten an email from my aunt and when I said no he told me that my uncle was sick. He had gone into the hospital feeling unwell and on Monday they had diagnosed him with cancer and hospitalized him. It was liver cancer they said, he couldn’t tell me what stage just that it was terminal, had already spread by the time they found it. He had tumours in his kidneys and lungs.

I had to work that day so I thanked my dad for telling me and got on with my day. I told one person that my uncle was sick, no one else knew.

On Wednesday I drove to Hamilton for work, or maybe Catham I can’t remember which came first. We spent a week there setting up our show, rehearsing, performing, striking, something we’d been doing every week for 6 months, it was easy by then. I worked and tried not to think about it. I’d already lost family and friends to cancer, I knew what to expect. I told one more person. She told me about her grandparents who had died of brain cancer. I didn’t feel like I had any room to feel sorry for myself so I didn’t bring it up again.

On Monday night I got into my hotel room past midnight, it was Tuesday morning now, we’d just struck the show and I was sore and exhausted and ready to sleep. My coworker I was sharing a room with was already sleeping in the next bed over. I got changed and collapsed into bed and I checked my email before going to sleep. I had an email from my aunt saying my uncle had died.

It took one week.

Seven days from him getting diagnosed to him dying. I’d never known anyone who’d died that suddenly before, everyone else I’d known who had had cancer had had a slow decline, months or even years, sometimes with a remission or two just to give you hope first. I didn’t have time for hope with my uncle. I hadn’t even been home.

We drove back to Toronto the next day, unloaded the trucks, returned them, took the bus home. I didn’t tell anyone he was dead, I didn’t know how. When I got home that night I told my friends I had gotten bad news and needed to talk to someone. One person was free. I told him what had happened and I didn’t know what else to say about it. I just needed someone to know.

He asked if I was close with this uncle. I said no. He asked if I was sad. I said didn’t know. We hung up pretty quickly.

The next email was to tell us there wouldn’t be a funeral or memorial. We couldn’t because of covid. She told us they would hold a “Celebration of Life” once it was safe. We still haven’t done it. We’re doing Christmas this year though, it’s safe enough for that. I’m not going.

After he died, weeks or months, I started to learn about what happened after he’d died. My dad had been helping my aunt, his sister, clean up all my uncle’s stuff, and they found out he’d been hiding a spending problem. His office was full of stuff he’d bought for hobbies he’d lost interest in. Unopened boxes and unplayed guitars - lots and lots of guitars. They found extra credit cards too, ones my aunt didn’t know about. They found so much debt.

My uncle, when he was alive, was one of the only good people in my family. That side of my family isn’t happy. They’re all angry or depressed or tightly wound, they were all on edge around each other, none of them were ever happy when I saw them, not for long, but he was. I loved him for that, I thought he was one of the only people worth the miserable Christmases.

And then I learned that he wasn’t really that. He was someone who hid his spending from his wife and left her in deep debt with closets worth of junk to show for it. He didn’t consider her when he kept getting cards to hide the problem or tell her when things got bad. And I know that’s not his fault, I know it, but it also was.

And suddenly he wasn’t the person I remembered anymore. I remember his smile so clearly and his polo shirts and his little rectangular glasses and the way his whole body shook when he laughed. But now I also had this other understanding of him. And this resentment for how he left things. And resentment too that I never got the chance to say goodbye to the wonderful, lovely, happy man I saw every year at Christmas and Canada Day, who made it worth enduring the other relatives and the crappy turkey stuffing and the decorative nutcrackers that watched you in the bathroom. I didn’t say goodbye before he became a man I didn’t like.

And it’s not his fault. He was always that way and I just didn’t know, nobody did. But I hate him for it. And I miss my uncle. And I’ll think of him anytime I see that guitar in my dad’s office, the one my aunt gave to him because she was in too much pain to sell it. And I’ll think of him at Christmas when I’m not there because as long as I’m not there he is.

Just like I’ll always think of my other aunt whenever I see her daughter. Or my friend Ryan when it’s our birthday. Or Dana when I go to Niagara-on-the-Lake or wear sweatpants on the bus. Remembering them all, too, at the strangest times. Thinking sometimes, by mistake or even when I know it’s not true, that they’re alive.

And it’s almost Christmas and I won’t see that side of the family this year because I’m seeing my mother’s family instead on the west coast. And I don’t know if I’ll ever see that side of the family again at Christmas, those unhappy people. I don’t know if I could stomach seeing that he really isn’t there. If I’m not then maybe he is.

It took one week.

#y'know just one of those things i gotta get out that i can't put on my main because people i know irl follow me 🙃 #death // #cancer // #nottrek #ignore or reblog i don't really care but there it's out in the open god #maybe one day i'll tell someone in person but who knows

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Has anyone else had difficulty this year or last with finding themselves behind everyone else on starting to do things again, and this having the slightly unexpected (to me, at least of when it first started happening) of being behind schedule with the reactions? I’ve had this happen a lot since last spring, and even more since last fall when I started properly trying to do stuff again for the first time, and I haven’t heard many people talk about it. I guess because by nature it won’t be something most people experience. But I recently heard someone put into words a few things that have happened and that I haven’t been able to really articulate or attribute before I heard it sort of explained.

I’ve compared being around people after lockdowns (I don’t really mean “after lockdowns”, because I stayed home not just during government-mandated lockdowns but also any during time they recommended we stay home, but I don’t know a better way to put that, I can’t say “after COVID” because it isn’t “after COVID”) to alcohol tolerance. That if you don’t drink for months then you’ll be drunk after two beers. I’ve always found it difficult to be around people for too long, but had built up a tolerance to it out of necessity. After 2020 and 2021, I found that tolerance completely shot. When I tried for in-person interactions, I needed breaks much faster than I had in 2019, in a way that I think may have been accommodated better back when everyone was still getting used to it.

I stayed in something close to full lockdown mode until about May of 2022, but even then, I’d go out a bit and then get paranoid and stop, and there was a lot of stopping and starting until quite late in 2022. I felt okay when I could wear a mask, but not so much at sports practices, where masks are not practical, and even if we wore them, it would be pointless. There’s just no socially distanced version of this one, no safe way to do it in COVID conditions. You know how when people first got vaccinated, everyone made jokes about “now I can go back to licking doorknobs the way I did in 2019”? That’s pretty much what my friends and I actually did. “Oh good, now we can go back to gathering several times a week with a bunch of other people in a cramped indoor space, and taking turns to physically roll around in each other’s personal space and on a mat covered in their sweat, and then change partners to make sure everyone does this with everyone else before we all go home.”

My first few weeks back – really my first few months back, but it was a little at a time spread out across months as I kept stopping when it got too hard, and then starting again weeks later – were so difficult, and I think it was worse because no one else was going through it. I needed to come back slowly, a little at a time, while I got used to it and figure out where I fit. While everyone else had already done their processing and things just seemed normal to them.

I’d get panic attacks so frequently, and I don’t know how much was because I’d spent two years being conditioned to view that indoor close contact as a dangerous and scary situation, and how much was because my tolerance for human interaction was so low and it got overwhelmed within minutes. Due to what I think is a combination of those factors, I spent a lot of hours sitting in the change room freaking out, and then I’d go home and feel absolutely hopeless about the fact that the thing I loved before COVID was lost to me. I felt like I’d never be able to enjoy it again.

Things got better eventually, but so slowly. And they’re still not perfect, though they’re much much better than before. But I think I did resent a little how it was only weird for me, because everyone else was less careful than I was and went back to it long before I did. So everyone else did their “Yeah this feels weird” phase while I was still refusing to leave my house except to get groceries. And then I go back and to everyone else this is just normal, they’re already used to it, and I’m just trying to figure it out on my own.

I went to a tournament for the first time in November 2022, and that was weird too because I felt like it should be a reunion, but it wasn’t for everyone else. Before COVID all these people saw each other most weekends for most of the year, and then they went so long without it, and coming together again was a big deal. But that happened long before I joined, and by the time I got on board, they were all used to it again. So there was no sense of this one being a big deal to anyone but me.

I asked my friend what it was like at the first couple of tournaments, and he said it was weird but very good. Everyone had been hurting so much, and they were all so relieved to see each other again, even the ones who never got along. People from different teams that had always had drama were hugging each other and talking just because they were so happy to be back. Everyone was a little hesitant and a little rusty and a little uncertain. And I really wish I’d been part of that. I’m bad at adjusting to changes anyway, and I’ve found it harder to do once everyone else had already adjusted and this was only weird anymore for me.

A lot of people were very nice, of course. In some cases, the one thing that was new for the people around me was my presence, and that was something. I had some old friends who were very excited to see me back. And a lot of people were understanding of how often I needed to take breaks, especially at first but really I still do. I’m much more adjusted than I was, but not to how it was in 2019. The bar for how long I have to be around people before panic attacks occur is still lower than it used to be. And I still don’t really feel safe or comfortable in close indoor conditions with no mask.

Again, it’s just something I haven’t heard many people talk about, because by it’s nature, it’s something that hasn’t happened to most people. So I hadn’t even really put into words how much this affected my experience, until I heard it talked a bit a bit yesterday and said “Oh right, that’s what’s been happening.” But I figure if anyone else has experienced this, it’ll be people on this website. So I guess the point of this post is to say... anyone else know what I’m talking about with this? If so, sorry to hear that, and it’s not just you, and maybe it’s worth trying not to lose all hope for the future the way I did, because maybe adjustment does happen eventually and things can get better.

[secretgamergirl]

The Illusion of a Functioning Society

I don’t know if this is one of those things that’s true for everyone, I’m just in a particularly miserable situation personally, or this is one of the many cases where trans women act as the canary in the coalmine for everyone else, but I’m increasingly getting the vibe that somewhere around when America decided its response to a global pandemic that’s killed... can I look this up? Close to 7 million people so far was formally going to be to just kinda... pretend it isn’t happening and everyone agrees to just not bring up how many people they’ve lost and pretend there’s some other reason service jobs are suddenly understaffed... that kind of got away from me, but yeah, since around there, I’ve had the vibe that people, broadly, no longer really seem to care at all about the general concept of a social contract.

Let’s start with the most obvious example. As the pandemic was first really gearing up, I had a couple noteworthy medical concerns. Incredible tooth pain, and some pretty damn horrible constipation issues (we’re talking like, making a dropoff only once a month). Couldn’t see my regular dentist because she was out of the office hoping Covid would blow over, so I got a referral to someone else, who said it was a problem they weren’t specialized in, and bounced me to someone else, who said and did the same, then the fourth dentist I was bounced to who was like a two hour drive away started looking at my teeth, glanced at the form I’d filled out of what medications I was on, got confused by something, and asked why I was taking all these things. I replied that I was trans, she looked at me like I’d just sprouted bat wings, said my teeth were fine and I should leave, and shouting a very loud parting “thank you SIR!” on my way out the door. The actual pain went away after I was on antibiotics for a bit, my gums de-swelled, and what looked like part of the plastic bags they put on the clamps and such when you’re getting certain other kinds of dental work done worked its way out from like under my tooth so, all well and good there, but... the system failed pretty hard on all that? Still haven’t seen my actual dentist in what like 4 years now, who apart from leaving some plastic junk sitting around the one time apparently is just the best.

Meanwhile with the other issue, I talked to my doctor who was about to quit from Covid stress, he sent me a specialist who was completely checked out, who lined up a colonoscopy. That... failed to provide meaningful results, because before you get one you have to completely empty out your whole digestive system with this medical drain cleaner, and that part didn’t work because, again, being super blocked up was the whole point. So as I’m coming out from anaesthesia I’m told “it was a bad prep” and I’m trying to ask if I’m supposed to rebook things or what. I just get sent home, have the follow-up with the specialist, and he... leaves his job while I’m waiting in the office. Like, he just full on quit then and there. The doctor who referred me to him is gone too. And the whole practice I was seeing these people at has had no in-person office hours for... well, years now. I don’t know if I actually technically have a GP right now? Pretty sure no.

Anyway that issue went away shortly after I took a hardline stance on a relative who very very incorrectly believed I needed to be eating bananas regularly after reading some quackery or other... but you know what didn’t was uh.... fairly regular fairly large amounts of blood loss when going to the bathroom. Which uh... seems bad. Seems really bad as a recurring thing for several years. I should definitely see a doctor about that, maybe try the whole probe thing again if... I can actually get an appointment with anyone.

This is of course on top of a bunch of Trans Stuff I desperately need done if I want anything approaching a normal life. That’s all on hold because my health plan absolutely 100% covers all of it, but there are no actual providers for any of these things in network. It’s a problem.

Meanwhile hey, my internet is garbage? I have a modest 240 mbps down/20 mbps up DSL modem, with no extra bundled services like phone or TV, and with frequent hours long outages, for which I am paying... $140 a month. That’s not even a little bit what I’m supposed to be paying, or getting, and when I call them about it they can’t even be bothered to provide plausible lies. I’ve been told I’ve missed payments (it’s a fully automated system and I’ve never not been charged), that I’m paying a $100 monthly rental fee on this $20 modem I own outright, etc.

The sensible thing to do would be to immediately cut all ties with them, but... I need some alternate ISP to switch to, and when I go looking for one, I just get phone trees and clueless call center employees who all seem to very much be in agreement that my address does not actually exist and is not covered by anyone’s services. Also fiber internet is apparently a fanciful delusion I have made up. So this apparent monopoly just gets to... take as much money as they want out of my bank account, and I can’t do a thing about it.

Meanwhile I spent literally the entire month of December dealing with losing my SNAP benefits. That’s the thing you get when you’re poor where you get a little card with a small balance every month you can use to buy some of your groceries, but not all, because there’s a strong political lobby that keeps calling for weird restrictions on arbitrary things poor people aren’t allowed to eat. Anyway I kinda need that, because... rent’s really high here, my ISP is charging me through the nose, and my only source of reliable income is my patreon. Which has been dropping off steadily since Twitter’s new management firing basically everyone means there’s nobody to deflag the malicious automated report-volume auto-suspension on my account and let me log back in.

So I need food to live. Early in December I get a big envelope in the mail telling me I need to do a phone interview to keep my benefits, and I need to do it by the middle of... November. Uh-oh. So I try calling, I navigate a phone tree, eventually it tells me nobody is available and I need to go to their website. Their website recently underwent an overhaul and required everyone to update to new passwords to log in. Except they didn’t do anything to make sure people could change their passwords to new secure ones while logging in with their old unsecure ones, and by that I mean the whole site is completely bricked. So that was like 2 full days of tech support to get a new password to access a site to tell me to... call the number I’d initially called, which I’ve been trying every day, and getting full on locked out because nobody is in. Winds up being something like December 24th where I just full on don’t sleep the night before so I can call the instant their phone lines open and hopefully get the apparently like one person available as soon as they get in. Other people apparently also did this though, so I am on hold for four hours.

Eventually I get this interview done, and it hits a snag because they ask me what my monthly income is, (roughly $975), and what my rent is ($1100), and they go “wait a minute, these numbers don’t add up. How are you affording your rent?” They didn’t really seem to accept “I’m not” as an answer, and tell me they’re mailing me a new income report I need to fill out by the end of the year. THAT got here literally yesterday (we are a bit into January as I’m writing this), but finally being able to access their website I was able to get a preview and see that they assumed I was operating... some sort of business with warehouses and trucks and such and I needed to document how much those were eating into my profits or something. So I just had to go in and cry in person about how I don’t have any money left at all and how I had nothing left to eat because I’d been cut off for a month and had to explain like three times what Patreon even is and still left with the guy apparently convinced it was some sort of government subsidy program he just wasn’t aware of.

So uh, side note. I haven’t really posted anything anywhere online for the past month or so? This took literally every waking moment of every day to sort out, plus several non-waking moments, plus it’s hard to focus when you aren’t eating. Also when you’re freezing because you can’t afford to keep the heat on in a cold snap.

Meanwhile, you know, I’m really trying to get some non-Patreon money coming in too because I really am unable to cover my rent and all, and I’m hitting fun new problems like the publisher of my last board game not having my current contact info for any royalties I might still be getting, and my only means of reaching them being someone on Twitter which, yeah, that’s out. Someone recently decided to do a new print run on some books I wrote a few years back, but decided he didn’t need to actually contact me to do so, or pay me, and when it was pointed out to him that that isn’t really how publishing worked, he decided to just quietly cut all my stuff out of the reprint. RPG writing completely dried up on me too when Covid started. I’m not in touch with anyone, I’m reading about executives at a big publisher going on tirades about not wanting to work with... a slur for queer people, so, that’s probably not coming back. And apparently the whole industry is having to deal with another major publisher’s lawyers doing something that’s a big ol’ headache everyone else has to deal with now too.

So, you know, it just kinda seems like people aren’t so much for the two-way transfers of things anymore. I’m paying for medical coverage I can’t use. Not getting paid for work. Getting charged through the nose for internet I’m not getting. Hell not too long ago I tried one of those food delivery apps since there was a promo and the driver just... picked up my food and went home to eat it himself, apparently.

Meanwhile on a government level, uh, somehow Teslas are allowed on the road despite being firebombs that fail like every basic safety requirement, and can even test their automated driving modes that even when working properly are programmed to break basically every driving law. And... I mean this is really a whole separate article really but did you know that at this point, like, a handful of companies are just buying every single home anyone puts up for sale to consolidate these horrible rent-monopolies? And this is on top of a whole separate deal where people are pulling a similar weird shady thing where there’s entire cities where like 80% of homes are sketchy AirBnBs now?

And you know, right-wing controlled bits of the U.S. are just actively gearing up for the mass incarceration and murder of trans people, while parts of Canada are setting up programs to straight up euthanize people below a certain income bracket.

These are all pretty significant large-scale social problems and the fact that they’re all being met with this “whatever” attitude kinda means the death of society at large. Plus you know, lots of individual people.

[shaolinsissy]

Life Update

In my opinion, it can be a bit sad to look at dead blogs of people you used to know, and have no idea how they’re doing, so here’s a life update for anyone who is doing that: As of 2023 I am not dead, addicted to meth-amphetamines, or responsible for any acts of terrorism. I also haven’t awakened latent super powers yet and at 30* my optimism about that is starting to fade. In all seriousness, things have gone well! I started a chess school several years ago, and while we’re still small we’re actively growing (we’re in 16 schools)! I’m trying my best to be a not evil business owner who pays good wages and doesn’t eat orphans. I’ve kept true to the latter part of that most of the time.

If you knew me in real life the company’s name is [major local city] chess association! Our website is solid and I’m very proud of it! It has SEO’s!

On a more personal level I finally moved out of my parents’, and in with my girlfriend (not to brag, but she is the bee’s knees and also the cat’s pajamas). Our apartment is small, but cozy. I have a small, but cozy circle of friends. I quit martial arts, stopped lifting, gained 50 lbs (COVID didn’t help), then joined a new martial arts style, started a diet, and lost the 50 lbs again. I also got kicked in the face and have a scar! It’s very small, but having it means I’m cool now. Them’s the rules.

I’ve fallen out of the habit of reading, but listen to audio books a lot. I still play video games, but not League anymore. I still dream of being a writer sometimes, but mostly use those skills on emails these days. And absurd background stories for events that we host for our students. 

I’ve told myself I’ll write again, and get something published, once the business is doing well enough for me to shift my focus. I also know how perilously close “tomorrow” is to “never.” So, I guess we’ll see!

I still break cellphones on a near-annual basis. *Technically, I won’t be 30 for 10 more days. But “29″ really didn’t have the same ring to it, so humor me here. Besides if someone even reads this I’ll bet at LEAST 10 days will have passed.

#personal #me #writing this felt a bit silly honestly

[hoodoo12]

Beetlejuice Squared 1/2

Will Blum is onstage this week as The Ghost with the Most since Alex Brightman is out with COVID. I figured it was time to dust off this old thing . . .

NSFW. Beetlejuice x reader x Beetlejuice. Minor drug use.

Enjoy!

“Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice!”

You’d called, he arrived. He told you it always gave him a thrill, hearing his name from your mouth, and you socked him in the shoulder for being a sap and maybe a liar, because you were pretty sure he said that to anyone who’d called him up. Still, it was sweet, so you softened it with a kiss on the same spot you’d used your knuckles on and took him to the couch.

The two of you had made out a bit and you lost most of your clothing and he’d dumped his suit jacket and tie, but then you got a text that you couldn’t ignore, and you had to make a phone call. Beetlejuice grumbled and you waved him off, tossing him the TV remote as you left the room to finish talking to your boss about whatever dire emergency couldn’t wait until the weekend was over.

By the time you got back, Beetlejuice had his feet up and was smoking. He’d neglected to rebutton his shirt. As you didn’t keep cigarettes in the house and a distinctively different aroma than tobacco smoke filled the air, you smiled. You sank back down onto the couch and leaned into him.

Leisurely, he passed you the joint. It wasn’t earthly weed; he must have spirited it from the Netherworld. You knew from experience it was potent, and didn’t take too deep a pull on it.

With some documentary about flat-earthers on the TV, you and he passed the joint back and forth. It never got shorter or used up. It made you giggly and easily distracted. It also made you warm; even though you were pressed against his tepid body in only a thin shirt and panties, you didn’t feel the chill. The weed mellowed him too, and although his free hand stroked your upper thigh, he didn’t capitalize on it at the moment. In the back of your fuzzy mind you remembered Netherworld weed had some pretty intense aphrodisiac properties, which meant Beetlejuice was probably looking for some backdoor action and wanted to make sure you were properly relaxed and would be primed for his “sudden” suggestion of anal later.

You half watched the documentary, half scrolled through your phone. You found articles on flat-earthers, which led to articles on space, which led to articles on a red supergiant star that could go supernova any time in the next 100,000 years or so. That caught your eye.

“Look!” you told him, holding your phone up in his face. “It’s your name, I think.”

Beetlejuice squinted at the too close screen you shoved at him.

“Nah,” he replied. “It doesn’t have a ‘j’ in it.”

“No, I think it is!” you insisted. “Let me see . . .”

Quickly you tapped “Betelgeuse pronunciation” into the google search on your phone. There were some linguistics articles that would have been hard to read even if you weren’t stoned; then you found some youtube videos.

You clicked on the first, and a woman’s voice came through the speakers.

“Alpha Orionis has a more common name,” the narration began. “Derived from the Arabic Yad al-Jauzā', the eleventh brightest star in the night sky is Bhe-tle-juz.”

You listened to it again, then repeated it in the same clear monotone the woman had, wrapping your tongue around the slightly different pronunciation.

“Bhe-tle-juz.”

You flicked a 10 second rewind and listened to the voice again.

“Hey babe, I don’t think you should be doing that,” Beetlejuice protested mildly. “I don’t know if it’ll, you know, send me back--”

You ignored him.

“Bhe-tle-juz,” you said again. You liked it; it started with a softer mouthfeel than a hard B.

“--and we haven’t even gotten it on yet, not really!” Beetlejuice continued. A slight note of panic in his voice fought its way through the haze of dope. “Come on, babes, knock it off--”

“Bhe-tle-juz,” you said one last time, with a giggle.

A thin whistling filled the air. It did not hurt your ears, but it didn’t sound right, either. You grimaced and looked up at Beetlejuice to tell him to stop it, but a burst of light erupted in front of you then faded just as quickly as it appeared. You blinked rapidly to restore your burnt out vision, and standing in front of you, between the couch you and Beetlejuice were lounging on and the TV, was Beetlejuice.

⁂

“What the fuck?!” the Beetlejuice you were leaning against exclaimed, sitting up abruptly, half-dislodging you from his side.

You fumbled the joint so you didn’t drop it as you were jostled. “Hey! Watch it, Beej!”

The new Beetlejuice threw his gaze around the room with narrowed eyes and dramatically waved his hand in front of his face.

“Jesus christ,” he coughed. “What’s with all the weed?”

His eyes landed on you. “Oh, hello.”

“Hi!” you replied.

Whatever was happening, Beetlejuice’s dope smoothed out all the edges. You pushed yourself off the specter you were leaning on, shoved the still lit joint back into his hand, ignored his protest and his other hand that tried to keep a grip on your shirt, and got off the couch. You took a step towards the newcomer. “Who’re you?”

“I’m the ghost with the most, babydoll,” he replied. It was such a cliché you rolled your eyes, but you also couldn’t help but smile.

This was Beetlejuice, but not quite Beetlejuice. Although dressed in the striped suit you’d come to expect and with the same swept up rat’s nest of hair and scruff on his face, he was taller--much taller!--than the Beetlejuice you’d spent the evening with so far. Made bold by the smoke you had partaken in, you looked him over thoroughly, taking his hand (and finding his nails were solid black); straining on unsteady tip-toes to peer into his face (discovering his eyes were darker amber than the other Beetlejuice’s and his teeth were slightly less sharp).

He seemed as curious about you as you did him, and permitted the inspection with an air of amusement. You kept a hand on him, dragging your fingers lightly over him as you walked in a circle to look at his back. He watched you the entire time with a slight smile on his face, his head rotating completely around to keep track of you.

When you were where you started in front of him again, you left your hand on his chest and said, “Beej--”

“What?” they both answered together.

The new arrival didn’t have the same voice. It was less gravely. Less rough. You liked it. You stared up into his eyes and didn’t turn back to the Beetlejuice on the couch as you continued.

“--is this one of your clones?”

The reaction to the question was immediate, from both of them. Once again they spoke at the same time, over one another.

“The fuck, babe?” the Beetlejuice on the couch spit. “How could you even think that guy was my clones--”

“A clone?” the Beetlejuice in front of you said, offended. “You’ve got your hand on me, do I feel like a fucking clone--”

They both finished at the same time, “--that’s fucking ridiculous!”

The combination of a bottom-of-the-lungs rasp and a smooth voice merging together gave you a shiver.

“No,” you ceded, still looking up at the specter you were next to, “I guess you’re not a clone.”

The new Beetlejuice gave you a wider smile and reached forward to take your waist. His voice dropped a little, like he was talking only loud enough for you to hear. “That’s right, babydoll. Thanks for the invite. So tell me, what’s your pleasure?”

There was a literal growl from Beetlejuice on the couch, and in the next instant, you were yanked away from the other, wrapped up in a tight, protective hug from behind. From over your shoulder, Beetlejuice hissed,

“Back off, asshole!”

The new Beetlejuice held his hands up a moment. “Hey, dick. She called me. Breathers don’t do that unless they want something, and from the state of things here, I think I can guess what that might be.”

Beetlejuice held you against his bare chest tightly and another warning growl slipped past your ear.

Taller Beetlejuice looked over the two of you. “Babydoll, you called my name three times and here I am. For you. What can I do for you? Probably more than he can . . .”

“Hey--” you objected in Beetlejuice’s defense, and the other snorted a laugh.

“He’s gotta use the Netherworld’s primo weed to get you going? That doesn’t seem like a demon who can make things happen without a little outside assistance.”

You felt a little surge of protection for the Beetlejuice you knew best. “The weed was later, after we’d made out. I don’t need it to get hot and bothered, it’s just a bonus.”

The Beetlejuice holding you chuckled. He spun you, unprotesting, on your heel, to face him.

“That’s sweet, babe,” he told you, and lifted the joint held between his first two fingers to his mouth again.

He took a drag and held it in, then tilted his head and lifted his eyebrows at you. Reading his intention, you tilted your head too. With your hands flat on his chest, you stretched towards him until your parted lips were only millimeters away. Beetlejuice breathed a column of smoke directly into your mouth.

You got most of it too, before you smiled and tendrils of the thick smoke escaped. You held it in for a long moment, practically feeling the smoke permeate through your lungs, letting it settle heavily throughout your body all the way down to your fingertips and toes. Finally you let the remainder of it out, smiling languidly at Beetlejuice. Shotgun smoking with him always made you feel warm and mellow. Maybe the smoke picked up something in his lungs that transferred to you? You didn’t know, but it made you feel good.

Your smile was slow and there was a tingle in your extremities and in your groin. You didn’t step away, and pressed a sloppy kiss to his lower lip. Beetlejuice caught you around the waist with one arm as he raised the joint and brought it to his mouth again. You caught him staring directly at the other specter with a smug air and open challenge on his face.

Taller Beetlejuice scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Still doesn’t change the fact she called me.”

“She called me first, asshole!” Beetlejuice said with his arm still around you.

“And then she obviously decided to call someone better!”

The affects of the weed kept you slowed down for a moment, so you didn’t object when Beetlejuice released you and took a step between you and the second Beetlejuice you’d managed to summon into your living room. Still, you said,

“Hey. Beej? Beejes? Beeji? Bees?” Trying to determine the plural of the word struck you as funny, and you cut yourself off with giggling.

“It was a fucking mistake. You’re a fucking second string, honorary mention, cheap knock-off of me--”

“Someone’s got their panties in a twist. Feeling threatened ‘cause you know she’d choose me over you? Chicks like tall guys,” the newer arrival stated dismissively before he addressed you again. “Come on, babydoll, you wanna have some fun with someone who doesn’t need chemical enhancement to show you a good time?”

Beetlejuice responded to that with a snarl, while the other turned back on him with a comment on how he probably couldn’t even get it up at this point.

It slowly dawned in your fuzzy brain that there were two Beetlejuices slowly circling each other like two alpha predators looking for an opportunity to attack. Both of them had red shot through their hair, and there was a faint crackling in the air, like right before a lightening strike.

That cleared your head pretty quickly. The last thing you needed was your house torn apart in some spectral, demonic, dick-measuring contest. Especially when all you’d really wanted to do tonight was get laid.

“Hey,” you said.

They ignored you, focused so tightly on each other.

You cleared your throat and tried again, more loudly. “Hey! Beetlejuice! Bhetlejuz!”

Their full names caught their attention. They both turned to you.

“I called you both here,” you exclaimed boldly, “so that means I get to choose what I want!”

Both Beetlejuices turned to you with dangerously dark expressions, staring at you from beneath their brows, like they both suddenly remembered you were in the room, standing before them scantily clad and looking like prey.

You pushed on. “So I choose both of you. Either you’re in, or you’re out. I’m happy to send either of you away if you can’t play nicely.”

It was a gamble; calling Beetlejuice up gave him power and you truly didn’t have much control over him. Still, you sweetened the deal by casually drawing a hand down your own side and subtly cupping your own breast before letting your hand fall to the hem of your shirt. Coyly, you lifted it a few inches as you cocked a hip.

They both looked much less dangerous with their jaws loosened.

tbc . . .

#Beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #Brightjuice #blumjuice #writing #fanfic

[marvelingjules]

Okay. So.

Good news is - I’m out of isolation and managed to (through luck and vaccination status) make it through the plague without needing anything more than really strong OTC severe cold/flu meds and isolation. And even more lucky - no one in my fam caught it from me, despite us all living in the same house as we do. I had really bad body aches, like my actual bones were hurting bad, for the first day or two, and then I had the difficulty breathing for a couple days.

As a chronic asthmatic, let me tell you that COVID breathing issues are not at all like my experience with asthma breathing issues. I can’t quite figure out how to describe it well. Closest I’ve gotten is that, like:

When I’m having an asthma attack, my lungs still feel there. I know they are there. But I can’t squeeze the air into them. My dad’s always equated it to trying to breathe through a straw. Technically you can, but it does not work out well. So when my asthma gets ‘rush to the ER bad’ it’s like, my lungs are there, but my lungs are also shrinking. But without losing space? The tightness and struggle is centered, my throat and down into the center of my chest.

With COVID it was more like: I have lungs. The muscles in my chest around them are tight. My lungs are much smaller than they should be. I can breathe in, but there’s no room to FILL. My chest is tight on the side of my lungs, compressing them too small, and while I can breathe normal, I can’t fill up like I should, because there’s not the space that should be there. All that tightness and struggle was on the sides of my lungs, not so much around my throat.

It was odd, and I knew right away that it wasn’t my asthma flaring up because I was sick (which always happens), but specifically it was COVID. It was very unique from my asthma experiences. -10/10 do not recommend guys.

But I got through it! My last day of isolation was Saturday, and boy was I excited for it. I can’t say if it’d have been better or worse if I didn’t live with my fam. Because like, I wasn’t alone entirely. But also. I could hear my fam just on the other side of my door, and I couldn’t join them. I couldn’t leave my little room, and I couldn’t spend time with my fam, and I couldn’t see anyone for more than a brief minute or two at a time, like when my mom would pass me dinner or check on me. (The last two days, she poked her head in to say, the first day, that she really wanted to give me a hug but couldn’t and didn’t like that. The second day she said she really missed me.)

So. We - my mom, little sis, and I - had plans for Sunday. Nothing big. But a book I wanted was out, my mom had coupons for the candle store. I just really was looking forward to getting out of my room.

Saturday night, my mom got a call.

The hospice nurse looking after my grandma - my mom’s mom - gave my grandma only 2-3 more days.

And look, my grandma’s health hasn’t been good, not for a while, and especially not this year. But that still was pretty sudden, pretty unexpectedly fast.

Sunday morning, my mom woke up to the news that my grandma passed overnight.

So. That’s what we’ve been dealing with.

I... I don’t really grieve like most of my family does. Never really have. It’s not that I’m not upset or sad. But I don’t tend to be... Idk, loud? about it? I’ll think of something that is related to that person that makes me sad they’re gone now, and I’ll get teary eyed and cry a bit for a minute or two, and then I’m okay. My mom and my sister kept crying heavily all Saturday night, all Sunday, and from what I heard all Monday too (while I was at work).

People have suggested that I just haven’t lost anyone ‘close enough’ to me yet. My aunt died when I was a kid, then a decade or so later my great-grandparents died, more recently my nana (dad’s mom) died. But it’s always been the same. It’s sad, yeah, but - I don’t really cry or grieve like most people do. I think, for me, for most of my life, death has just been... really straight forward? Easy to process? Like. It happens. It’s life. It is sad and can suck but there’s not anything I can do about it. There’s no control over it, on my part or any of the people I’ve lost. It’s sad, and I miss them, and I miss all the lost opportunities and things I won’t get to do or show them in my lifetime.

But Idk. I just don’t grieve like most of the people around me do.

Because listen. My grandma? She was my favorite of all my extended family. I adored her above everyone else when I was a kid, into my teens. I loved her so fucking much, and she was such a big part of my life when I was a kid. I’d go visit for a week at least once, sometimes twice a year. She lived in the foothills, about two hours from where I grew up, in a little mobile home park tucked down off a winding mountain road. If you were up early enough and quiet and still enough, deer would walk by the large living room window in the mornings. We’d go for walks in the woods that came up against the backyard, see deers and trees and enjoy the sunshine and the quiet.

We’d curl up in her arm chair and watch Disney movies - she had so so many of them! She’d brush my hair, she’d make hot chocolate, she’d hold me close even as I got to the age that most people stop letting you cuddle in their laps with them. I remember being 11 or 12, and she was visiting our house (one of the only relatives of ours that did), and talking with the other adults, and I was kind of just standing there, so she pulled me into her lap and hugged me close, rocking me side to side a bit, just like she always had since I was little.

She’d take me into this old mining town, and we’d hit all the cutesy tourist shops, and get the best sarsaparilla ever. She knew how much I loved orcas, and she’d listen to me talk about them all the time, and she got me gifts centered around them because she knew how much I’d love it. We’d sit and read together in the living room, or she’d garden in her backyard and tell me about her strawberry plants, the yard ornaments she had and how some were from her parents.

I was so upset when they moved to Oklahoma, following her parents (my great-grandparents) who had moved out there a few years previous. We went to help them pack up, and I was upset but didn’t want to make them feel bad. I took a last walk in the woods. I took a last look around the house and the view from the front window and the fire burning stove. I hugged her as long as I could get away with, and she didn’t rush me - she never did.

I could go into how our relationship has complicated over the years. Let’s sum it up with: they’ve always been religious, but it got more intense and more conservative out there, and I’m queer. I came out to and unfriended her on FB one night. She never called or texted me after - the closest I got was my mom telling me how grandma kept saying she thought I was mad at her, that she hoped I wasn’t mad at her, that she loved me, etc.

It wasn’t her trying to be manipulative. It was just... her completely missing the point, I think. Completely not knowing what to do with me after that.

But my sticking point with that all? Was that she never called me. She had my number. She could have asked my mom to have me call her if she wanted me to be able to reach out when I was comfortable with it. But she didn’t.

It was just “I think she’s mad at me” for a while, and then “tell her I love her.”

Maybe that was all she could think to do, to tell me it was okay.

I really just always was waiting for her to make an effort to talk to me, not my mom, about it.

(It didn’t help, that some months ago, she was on the phone with my mom while we had Ringo at the dog park, and Mom had her on speaker, and she was talking about how she’d talk with one of my cousins every week, and when that cousin stopped talking, she made sure to keep reaching out to her. It didn’t help to sit there and wonder why I wasn’t worth that same effort, that same persistence and dedication. It hurt, so damn fucking much, that I cried in the shower for half an hour later that afternoon about it.)

And that’s what has been making me cry, when I do, the past few days. That I’m never going to get the chance to repair that relationship. That I’m never going to get to hear my grandma say that it’s okay, and she loves me anyway. That maybe if I wasn’t so stubborn, we could have been closer again. That maybe if she had just made a little more effort, it wouldn’t have ended with us in this position.

I hate that I don’t get to tell her that I forgive her, even if she never changes her mind or feelings on queer relationships. I hate that I don’t get to hear her tell me she loves me, not just tell me through my mom.

I hate I didn’t get to say goodbye, or get a hug again (I haven’t been able to fly out and see her and my grandpa for... fuck, probably around a decade now).

I’m upset she’s gone, but I’m more grieving all the opportunities and chances lost, and dealing with my guilt about being so fucking stubborn about not reaching out myself, because I was hurt and didn’t want to make it seem like it was okay to me, that she would say those things. I was stubborn, and hurting, and and upset, and that’s the fucking awful way she left and I feel so fucking guilty about it.

But my dad won’t get it, Little Sis has her own shit going on, and my mom’s grieving losing her mom, her closest confidant and friend.

I’ll be okay. Like I said, I only get really upset and emotional when I think too hard about the loss of chances for reconciliation, for our relationship to repair and maybe get stronger. Maybe that sounds bad. That my greatest grief isn’t for her passing, but for what it means we can’t do. But like I said - I don’t really grieve like a lot of people I know do.

It does mean I’m able to be the strong one though, for my mom and sister. The one they can lean on if they need to. (I sometimes feel awkward, because they’re crying and I just... don’t, really, but I try not to judge myself for it.) I can be the one who takes my mom to a park for a walk with Ringo, to get her some fresh air, some distance, some time not answering all the phone calls and texts as she and her brothers and other relatives arrange things.

She left this morning, to fly out for a week. She’s helping her dad with going through all her mom’s things, stuff like that. I wish I was able to go with her, but I just had eight days off of work because of COVID, and am only just coming off of that (my energy levels are tanked, my asthma is shit, my throat still hurts a bit sometimes and my stomach is displeased by most food). I can’t take time to support my mom like I want to. So I just have done what I could - I paid for the plane ticket, for her to have some spending money while out there, stuff like that.

But yeah. It’s been... a lot, especially before my mom left, that we’ve been dealing with. I may grieve quietly, like I said, but it’s still exhausting, on top of recovering from COVID, too, so my energy is just... gone.

I don’t really want condolences. I know they’re meant well, but I’ll be honest - they often just make me feel vaguely uncomfortable. I never know what to really say to them, and I don’t really need them in a way some people do, I think.

So yeah. Part of this is just letting people I know and interact with on here knows what’s up, and part of it is me processing and putting my feelings and thoughts to words, and part of it is me remembering that this was how I felt, at this time. And maybe years in the future I’ll look back and have a better ability to reflect on it, and it will be okay more than it is right now.

So - overall, I’m fine. Got through COVID and am recovering alright. Got lucky it didn’t team up with my asthma to send me into the hospital. And right on the tail end of that, my grandma passed and so we’ve all been dealing with that.

We have a Dad’s side of the family saying, from my “aunt” (dad’s ex-wife, older sis’ mom): Shit comes in buckets.

And sometimes, man, does that feel like the fucking truth.

(In other news, I was looking at the puppies the breeder we got Ringo from has available right now, and had to remind myself that getting myself the puppy I’ve wanted for a while now, while upset, is Not A Good Idea. Even if I could afford it and would love it to pieces and think Ringo would enjoy a playmate. lolol)

#Jules rambles #covid #death cw #not mine obviously lolol #I SURVIVED the plague thankfully

[castielwarriorangel]

Wow... Tumblr

Ain’t been on here for a WHILE. But I finally finished watching Supernatural last night and I have been an emotional wreck since, and I thought about Tumblr because this is where I used to get all my gifs and such from. I may have to make my page dedicated to Supernatural again.

Anyway, my life the past four years.. I finally moved out of my mom’s house almost 3 years ago. I’ve been living on my own since 2020. 2020 was a difficult time for me like it was for many. I had everything lined up for my move and then Covid happened and things went downhill very quickly. I couldn’t pay any of my bills and almost got evicted and became homeless. If not for the graces and generosity of others I would be living on the streets. Not a great way to start a life on my own, 950 miles from anywhere familiar. I’ve gained and lost many friends over the past few years, and I will be turning 33 in March.

Not sure if anyone remembers me or if those who I followed religiously are still around or friends I made on here are still present. But damn.. I missed y’all.

I am in process of writing my own book series now and have a goal to at least finish the first book by the end of the year. It’s about a fictional famous musician named Cliff Drakonas and whose best friend’s FC is Jensen Ackles, and that was before I had planned to finish Supernatural.. I held it off for a long time and I must say I am pretty disappointed in Dean’s death. It was such an anti-climactic way for him to die after his life’s work. I am happy that most everybody made it to Heaven, and it’s implied Cas became Jack’s right hand, possibly even an Archangel. I don’t know what new fandoms are out there anymore as I don’t have access to cable anymore, nor do I have a lot of time to watch shows like I used to. I have a full-time job now that’s third shift and pays very well and has great job security with lots of OT when it’s needed. I have a cat who I come home to every day. I am also a godparent now. I am still single and living on my own, which is very difficult in today’s world, but I am proud of where I am in life now.

I haven’t RPed for a while either, but I am ready to get back into that on my RP site I co-own.

Now with Supernatural over, I really have no idea what show to watch next or what to do with my life anymore lol. Supernatural was such a special show to me as it was for all the fans and I don’t think anything will ever come close to it, nor will anything ever fill the void of it not being there anymore. For now, Dean, Sam, Cas, Crowley, and everyone else will live on in my RPs, my Discord username (Castiel#1628), and my heart, as I’m sure it will live on in many people’s hearts.

I am 100% emotionally compromised right now, over a show lol. Geeze... Cried like a little baby earlier today when Carry On was stuck in my head.

So SPN fam? What shows you watching now? How did you cope with the end of the show forever? Please share, because I am not doing so well coping with it right now lol

#supernatural #spnfamily #SPN #rp #life update #hey yall

[ficsnooneaskedfor]

Call the Twi'lek Midwife

Chapter 53: One and the Same

Word count: 5.8k

Series rating: M

Chapter Summary: Citali's father reflects on the past as some unexpected allies attempted to rally him. Tech, Omega, and AZI operate on Citali and hope they all make it through this test.

So sorry for the delay! For those who don't know, I unfortunately got Covid about a month ago and it's very difficult recovering physically but also brain fog has made writing very difficult (so if there are spelling mistakes, quality of writing is lower etc with this chapter that is why)

TW: depictions of slavery, death mention, pregnancy loss mention, implied SA mention, depiction of alcoholism, depictions of medical procedures (not super descriptive but if that sort of this is upsetting for anyone, maybe skip this one).

Definitions of medical terms for anyone at the end of the chapter.

Masterlist | Ao3 | Prev. Chapter | Next Chapter

Nachi stared blankly at Ahsoka, Rex, Gregor, and Wolffe for so long they thought he hadn’t heard what had been said but he had. We’re friends of your daughter, Citali. He was shocked, trying to fathom how his little girl had befriended four soldiers. At least he assumed the young Togruta was a soldier as well, it was a logical explanation for why she was accompanied by three clone troopers. The sound of another person speaking his daughter’s name triggered memories of school plays, reading to her, teaching her to protect herself but one memory came to the forefront of his mind. It wasn’t one of Citali exactly. No, this was a different kind of memory, as clear and crisp as the day he lived it. One he had reflected on in shame many times since coming here. 

“All right, enough of this,” Cid said to him quietly but with unmistakable bite in her voice. She punctuated her irritation with him by harshly ripping the blanket off him. He had disposed of the bed he had shared with his wife but even so he found it nearly impossible to sleep in the bedroom most of the time, electing to drift into oblivion on the couch. “Get up. Take a shower, brush those pointy teeth of yours, and change into something presentable. Right. Now.” 

“Why?” he slurred, turning over to face his dead wife’s best friend and two bottles fell to the floor. He hadn’t had a drink since before Citali was born, coming close to a relapse only after Shi’ari’s last miscarriage, one of many but no less devastating to both of them. Nachi started his old habit again after she and their long-desired second child died. Cid picked up the bottles in her hands, staring at them before walking to the kitchen to throw the bottles away.  

“Because you’re gonna sober up and get Sunny from school this afternoon, that’s why.” 

“Citali can walk home with Melita like she always does. School’s only a few blocks away.” Nachi rolled over, burying his face into a cushion, ready for the relief that only sleep gave him when he heard the sound of glass shattering. His drunkenness seemed to lessen in an instant when he realized Cid had smashed the bottles against the kitchen floor in frustration. He’d known Cid for years and they had always got on well. She’d lost her temper with him once or twice but never like this. Nachi was taken aback but not angry for even at his drunkest, he was not a man quick to anger.  

“Are you out of your mind? The hell is your problem, Cid?” he said quietly, trying to convey that he was not upset but rather confused.  

“You really have to ask that? Look at yourself! You’ve been a ghost for months, you’re drinking again, and haven’t been working. And you have the FUCKING audacity to ask me what my problem is?!” 

“What do you want from me, Cid? Huh? My boy is dead, I watched my wife bleed out in front of me, and there was nothing I could do to save them. I failed them both. My life is in shambles.” 

“And I’m sorry about that, I really am,” Cid said softening some, the anger in her eyes transitioning to sadness and perhaps regret at what she had just done. “You’re not the only one who’s grieving. Shi’ari was like a sister to me, I loved her as much as you did. And Alik...” Cid seemed like she couldn’t even finish what she wanted to say and Nachi was honestly relieved she didn’t.  

“But Citali was in that room right along with us and she is a child . She’s completely traumatized. She won’t let anyone see her cry, that’s not normal for her. She hardly talks, she dropped out of the school musical ‘cause she doesn’t want to sing anymore, she escapes by throwing herself into her homework and books. You’ve been so consumed by your own grief and guilt that you can’t see how badly she’s coping no matter how many times I talk to you about it. She’s being just as destructive as you are. Citali needs to be our number one priority if she’s gonna grow up to be even somewhat well-adjusted but you’ve completely checked out. I know this is a hard time for you and I’m willing to help as much as I can, but I’m doing everything. That is unfair to me but most of all to Citali. She didn’t just lose her mother and brother that day, she lost you too.” Nachi did not take his bloodshot eyes off Cid as she spoke. Everything she was saying was true, he needed to be man enough to listen to it.  

“You’re allowed to mourn but you do not have the option of just...giving up like this. You keep this up and the bank is going to foreclose on the apartment. That little girl needs support and a stable home now more than ever. You used to be the most loving, supportive father I’ve ever seen but the last few months you’ve become someone I don’t recognize. I don’t want to say this but you need to figure out a way to get your act together so you and I can give Citali what she needs...or she’s staying with me.” This was no bluff, Nachi knew Cid meant it. He had been stone-faced throughout the conversation, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. A few spilled onto his cheeks as his eyes narrowed. Now he was angry. Angry and afraid. 

“You’ve no right to take my child from me, Cid. Do you hear me? I am her father!” 

“Then start acting like one!” 

Nachi was drawn out of the past by the sound of someone saying his name, the clone with blond hair, and his heart sank with dread. “Kikalekki, mother of the universe, show me mercy,” he prayed aloud in Twi’leki before switching back to Basic in his thick accent he’d never lost despite his years on Ord Mantell. “Please sir, I beg you...do not tell me my child has come to this place.” 

“No, no,” Rex whispered, resisting the urge to put a hand on him to reassure the frail-looking man. With what he’d suffered through, physical contact could be distressing rather than a comfort but perhaps his words could offer Nachi some. “She is safe at home and very well.” Rex could see the relief wash over the older man’s features and though he was tempted to tell him more, surely he was desperate to know details of how his daughter was doing, now was not the time. Nachi seemed to recognize that too. 

“I am Ashla. This is Captain Rex, Captain Gregor, and Commander Wolffe. We want to free you and all these people. We believe we can do this with your help.” 

Nachi shook his head. “You all have risked much to come here and I thank you...but you must leave. Perhaps you could extract me from this place, maybe a family or two, but there are hundreds of slaves in this camp. It’s impossible to save us all and I will not dishonor myself by fleeing while my people suffer. I would rather die with them than be the only one to see their prayers come to fruition. Go now, before you’re spotted. If you see my daughter... please tell her I love her and I’m sorry.” He turned to walk away but was stopped when he felt Gregor’s strong hand on his shoulder. 

“Sir, your people outnumber the guards ten to one. With our assistance you can fight back,” Gregor said desperately. He, like the others, was sickened by what they had witnessed the past few days and wanted to put an end to it. Citali had done so much for all of them and her father seemed like a good, honorable man. He wanted them to reunite. 

“Do you think we have not tried?” Nachi said, trying not to sound offended. “There are many warriors and even a few of your brothers among us.” Ahsoka, Rex, Gregor, and Wolffe looked at each other astonished. In their days of reconnaissance, they had not seen any clones but Nachi had no reason to be dishonest with them. “The last time we attempted an uprising, they butchered innocent people.” The anguish with which he said the word “butchered” sent a chill down the battle-hardened soldiers' spines. “Young, old, the injured...it gave them an excuse to murder those they deemed unproductive. And our women were...” Nachi had seen much cruelty in his life, especially when he was a young warrior trying to make change on his home planet, but the atrocities he’d seen their captors commit shocked even him. He couldn’t speak it out loud but the faces of his would-be rescuers told him they understood. “Innocent people who had no part in fighting will be the ones that suffer if this fails.” 

“Innocent people are suffering, and will continue to suffer and die if we do nothing,” Ahsoka said, sensing his fear.   

“Wouldn’t you rather go out fighting than continue living like this?” Rex said, staring at his face, realizing Citali had more of her father in her than he thought. He’d seen pictures of him at the party but standing in his presence the resemblance was more obvious even in near darkness.  

“Yes, I would,” Nachi relented. “But not everyone shares that sentiment.” 

“Then you must convince them,” Wolffe said. Nachi heard the haunted quality in his voice, the sound of a man trying to hold it together to complete a mission that was personally important to him.  

Ahsoka stretched out with the Force and felt that Nachi’s life was nearing its end. Her best guess was he had a few weeks at most if they did not get him out. The shadow of death and despair lingered over the camp like clouds of dust stirred up in the spice mines- he was not the only one with limited time. Nachi shook his head. 

“I cannot do what you ask of me. It is hopeless, I’m truly sorry.” 

Time for a different approach Ahsoka thought as he began to turn to walk away again.  

“Citali misses you terribly,” Ahsoka said and in the silence that followed Nachi’s face hardened. He was fighting back tears, surprised at how emotional he was becoming. Of course it was true, of course his daughter missed him, but hearing another person acknowledge it hit him hard. “She spoke of you with such love and admiration, she showed me the books you made, told me all you did to help her succeed in life... building her house, transcribing her school assignments from a datapad to paper so she could read them more easily. Those are the actions of a father who would do anything for his child. She wouldn’t want you to die like this... your wife and son wouldn’t want that for you either. I know you are afraid but...” 

Ahsoka recalled what Citali’s mother had spoken to her heart, a message she thought was for her but perhaps it was for another person too: the man in front of her. “Ananvil vulis ohk uru ootay kih,” Ahsoka said in less than perfect Twi’leki but Nachi was stunned, his mouth agape, and she knew her suspicion had been correct.  

Love and courage are one and the same. It was something Shi’ari used to say to him in moments of doubt to inspire him to do what he thought he could not. She said it frequently when he gave up drinking, he heard those words echoing in his ears the day Cid had given him the ultimatum he needed to make a change. No one, not even Citali, knew this. Then Nachi felt a strange presence as if someone was standing beside him, feeling warmed in the cold air. It reminded him of the rejuvenation of a spring day after a brutal winter, the glory of dawn breaking over mountaintops, of his wife, his son, and Citali. Rationally he knew they were not there but that did not stop him from searching for a moment. He eyed the young woman, catching a glimpse of something metallic hanging on either side of her waist beneath her poncho. It no longer mattered how she knew those words, he needed to hear them and he had.  

Nachi straightened his back, standing tall and proud, feeling more like the man he once was even if he did not look like him. A few minutes ago, he had accepted that his death was drawing near but now he was itching for a fight. One they might not win but if they did, his people would be free and he might be a part of his daughter’s life again. Giving up was no longer an option. 

“I’ve lingered here for far too long, I must go. I’ll find a way to persuade all whom I can, you have my word. Meet me in the outhouse behind the slave quarters this time tomorrow evening. That is the only place we can come up with a plan together without drawing suspicion of my absence.”  

Ahsoka and the clones nodded their heads, feeling their own resolve intensify by the sight of the starving, injured, dying yet strong and brave man before them. The past year may have dampened his fire but it had not been extinguished completely, all that was needed was a little fanning of the flames. Nachi turned to leave, this time for real, and added, “And young lady, best keep those lightsabers out of sight when the fight begins if at all possible. We don’t want the Empire searching for you more than they already are when this is done.” Ahsoka suppressed a smile.  

Observant and trying to take care of someone he just met. Citali is certainly her father’s daughter.  

“Morning, my loves,” Citali said energetically, giving Omega a hug. Her family was around the kitchen table, some sitting, others standing. I wish we could have a bigger table in here. Citali had never considered the possibility she would have such a large family one day when she and her father built this house. Perhaps they could make an addition to the kitchen at some point in the future but that would require digging up part of the garden she had been working on since before the foundations of the house were laid. Maybe they could build a new living room and make a dining room in their current one, but that was something to worry about another day. Other things were on her mind at the moment: peculiar, fragmented dreams she’d had of her father with Ahsoka, Rex, Gregor, and Wolffe that she woke up praying were real and the operation she was undergoing in a few short hours. 

Her family looked down guiltily at their plates, Wrecker appearing the most regretful by the mountain of food piled on his. “It’s all right,” Citali tried to assure them. “Just because I can’t eat or drink anything doesn’t mean you have to stop. Enjoy your breakfast, please. I just wanted to spend some time with you.” 

“How are you feeling today?” Hunter asked as they all resumed eating, standing up so Citali could sit in his chair. 

“Still in some pain but nowhere near as bad.” Then she directed her attention to Tech and Omega. “Have all the supplies been put together?”  

“AZ is double-checking that we have everything,” Omega said. “Have you decided what type of anesthesia you want to use?” 

“Well, Iirde unfortunately isn’t going to be able to assist today, she has a patient in labor. She said she’ll come if things progress quickly but her patient is a human primip, so we’re most likely on our own.” 

“What is a...p-primip?” Crosshair asked curiously, unfamiliar with the term. 

“Someone giving birth for the first time,” Wrecker said quickly to Crosshair’s surprise. “Humans tend to have longer, more difficult labors compared to other near-human species, ‘specially if it’s the first time.” What in the universe? Crosshair thought. "I’ve uh...learned some stuff here and there.” 

“So taking that into consideration," Citali said, trying desperately not to burst out laughing at the perplexed expression that lingered Crosshair's face. "I think an epidural or spinal is the best option. I’ll be awake to advise you guys. Well, as much as I can.” Citali knew, as did everyone else, that she would be of little help if something went wrong. Midwives were not surgeons, after all. Any knowledge she had about operations was purely theoretical, educated guesses, or very basic. All she would really be able to do was maybe keep Omega and Tech calm. Tech’s hours upon hours of research in recent months and Omega’s prior experience made them far more qualified for this than Citali. AZI was also an invaluable resource of skills and knowledge, which was the only reason Tech and Omega felt comfortable attempting this.  

“Doing an epidural on me will also be good practice for Anaasa,” Citali added. 

“There we go,” Echo said chuckling. “I knew that had something to do with it.” 

“That isn’t the only factor, I swear,” Citali said. "General anesthesia and sedatives make me extremely nauseous and groggy. I don't want to deal with all that." Echo put his arm around her, kissing the top of her head. 

“I know, sweetheart.” 

“If that is what you desire, I believe it would be in your best interest if we let AZI give you the epidural,” Tech said, bouncing his leg anxiously under the table. Citali felt the vibrations reverberate through the floor. 

“That’s fine,” Citali said smiling at him but Tech’s face remained frowning as did Omega’s. “What is it?” Were they having second thoughts? “Listen, if you two aren’t comfortable doing this operation, we don’t have to do it. We can call this off, I won’t be upset in the slightest.” Citali knew this was asking a lot of them. 

“It’s nothing like that,” Tech said looking across the table at Omega. They were battling self-doubt but that was not going to stop them, they wanted to help Citali. Something else was bothering them. Omega pulled a file up on her datapad and handed it to Citali.  

“I came across this study about bacta usage in endometriosis patients from the Galactic College of Gynecology & Obstetrics,” Omega said. “It was published just before the fall of the Republic so the data is good.” Citali had to read it twice to fully understand what she was reading and then it sank in.  

Endometriosis was a condition that caused the abnormal growth of tissue similar to the lining of the uterus to grow on other parts of the body. In Citali’s case, a scan by AZI revealed lesions growing on the outside of her uterus, ovaries, bladder, and throughout her pelvic cavity. The study showed that bacta use after surgery caused these lesions to grow back faster and oftentimes worse. Twenty thousand near-human beings had participated in the study, with endometriosis recurring within five years in 93% of the experimental group who used bacta while the control group was at 40%.  

“Wow,” Citali said, trying not to be disappointed. Bacta was a miracle substance, as evident by the fact Crosshair was having breakfast with them, but it had its limitations and this appeared to be one of them. “Can’t argue with statistics, guess bacta is out. Well done, Omega.” Her praise made Omega happy, she liked making Citali proud, but the girl felt awful having to give her bad news. Like it was her fault, as irrational as that was. She wondered if Citali ever felt that way with her patients. “How did you find this?” 

“From a forum on the holonet last night. It’s for medical students and professionals to share information with each other that the Empire has been trying to change, hide, or make money off of. They post all sorts of things: studies, herbal alternatives for medications that are hard to get, how to reprogram astromechs to do medical procedures...it's super cool.” 

“That is super cool,” Citali said. “You’re so resourceful, Omega. I’m glad you found this, I never would have known. Just...be cautious on the holonet. Don’t tell anyone your name, where you live, or anything else that could be used to identify you.” 

“Don’t worry, Melita's talked to me about being safe when I’m on the holonet a lot and I learned from watching Tech how to make my datapad’s signal untraceable. Even if the Empire finds that forum, they won’t know I was on it.” 

Citali couldn’t help laughing. Omega was going to be a force to be reckoned with someday. She already was.  

“So, what are we going to do?” Omega said, trying to conceal her concern. “We’ll be on call again in a few days, it’s going to be very hard for you to attend births if you’re recovering from surgery.” What choice did Citali have? It was unrealistic to think she could work or assist with Anaasa’s operation if she experienced the same pain she had yesterday.  

“We’ll go through with this as planned. I’ll figure something out.” 

When they arrived at the hospital there was some evidence that animals had gotten inside and roamed the halls, but the surgical suite and recovery room were as spotless as they left them. Tech, AZI, and Omega began sterilizing and prepping everything while Citali and Echo changed in the recovery room. The rest of the family had stayed at home to minimize contamination and not make an already stressful situation more so. Echo was insistent that he wanted to be there, if only to hold Citali’s hand.  

Omega and Tech scrubbed their hands and forearms with harsh soap in awkward silence, both wanting the other to acknowledge the magnitude of what it was they were attempting to do. Omega decided she would have to initiate the conversation if it was going to happen. 

“Are you...feeling scared?” Omega asked shyly.  

“More than I care to admit,” Tech replied. He’d had a hard time sleeping last night, unable to stop thinking of his past failures and if this would be another one. 

“If it makes you feel better, I am too. I... keep thinking about how upset I was after we removed Crosshair’s inhibitor chip. I’m scared if something goes wrong today, I won’t be able to do my job again.” Tech wanted to give his sister a hug but if he did, they’d both have to wash their hands all over again. Instead, he tried to think of something to say to console her. 

“I understand why you feel that way but you have the most surgical experience out of all of us here, apart from AZI. And a laparoscopy is a much less invasive procedure than what we did with Crosshair. If you do become frightened though, that is all right Omega. You may step out or stop at any time.” I however do not have that option.  

Omega almost felt as if she knew what Tech was saying to himself and now she was the one longing to hug him. He was trying to conceal his fear, she heard it in his voice. 

“You can do this, Tech. I know you can. You’re good at fixing things.” AZI hovered over and helped Tech put his gloves on. 

“Droids, the ship, those types of things.” 

“Exactly,” Omega said, AZI now helping her put gloves on. “You’re good at fixing machines and the body is just a very complex, living machine. Citali’s isn’t working as well as it can and we're going to fix it. Maybe if you think of it like that, you won’t be so afraid.” 

Tech’s smile was hidden behind his mask but Omega could see in his eyes that she had gotten through to him. “A bit of an oversimplification but I suppose you are correct in a way. You have a unique way of seeing things. Thank you, Omega.” 

When they were ready for her, Citali and Echo walked into the surgical suite, Citali wearing a hospital gown while Echo was covered head to toe like his siblings. Omega placed an IV in Citali’s hand, a skill she’d learned on Kamino but she was a little out of practice. Citali was given fluids and AZI started cleaning the epidural site on her back while she leaned against Echo, Tech and Omega watching closely.  

“Are you certain you do not want to use general anesthesia, Ms. Citali?” the medical droid asked. “Being conscious while being operated on may be emotionally distressing for you.” 

“I appreciate your concern AZ,” Citali said, glad to see that he was learning to be more mindful of patients’ emotions. “This is the best option and besides, people who have operative births are awake most of the time. I’ll be fine.” 

“Very well. I will administer the local anesthetic momentarily. You will feel a burning sensation.”  

AZI warned her before he did it but Citali was still not prepared. She took a sharp inhale and Echo held her tighter. “This part will be over soon, Citali. You’re doing great,” he said to her in Mante’leki. Truth be told, she was handling this fine so far but that could have been because Echo was with her. 

Once the epidural catheter was in place, Citali was numb from the waist down, and the medunit was programmed they got started. Echo stayed by Citali’s head, unable to look at what was being done to his wife and fighting off the fuzzy but horrific memories of his time on Skako Minor this was reminding him of. Something he had tried to prepare for and finding it easier than in the past to keep them at bay. He held her hands and spoke to her while she focused on her breathing and thought of the things that made her happy: Echo, her family, Snowball, her garden, her mom and brother, and her father. Oftentimes when she thought of him all she could feel was longing and sadness, imagining unspeakable horrors had befallen him, but today she felt love, hope, and for a reason she could not explain...courage. It was a good feeling and made it easier for her to relax. She tried to send that same energy to Tech and Omega, not knowing if that was possible but she tried anyway.  

When the tiny incisions were made, the camera and surgical instruments were inserted, and AZI began excising lesions on Citali’s uterus Tech and Omega did relax considerably. There was no turning back now and there was some peace in knowing that. Unlike learning to fight with her brothers or how to deliver babies and make herbal medicines with Citali, operating on people was something Omega had an immense amount of experience with. The sight of blood and internal organs did not phase her one bit and she knew exactly what was needed to assist AZI. And she found it all fascinating as she always had. She was so confident that Tech followed her lead as he got more used to the feeling all this. At one point Omega noticed that Citali seemed a little disturbed by seeing the internal structures of her body, turning her head away from the monitor that showed what they were doing. 

“You holding up okay, Citali?” Omega said, loudly in case the clear drape separating them and her mask muffled her voice.  

“I am, thank you for checking on me,” Citali said, Echo rubbing her shoulders.

“You’re doing great, Citali,” Echo said lovingly. Now Tech was aware that Citali was having some difficulty. 

“We can turn the screen in a different direction if that would help you,” he said.  

“I’m all right, really. It’s kind of cool to see actually, some parts are just...not pleasant.” Citali was not squeamish in these scenarios usually but it was different when it was her own body.  

“All right. Remember, if you have any breakthrough pain push that button to your left side and a bolus of medication will be administered through your epidural catheter,” Tech reminded her. Citali gave him a thumbs up, closed her eyes, and focused on Echo’s sweet words. 

As the operation continued, AZI, Omega, and Tech began to see that Citali not only had lesions but some of her organs were adhered together with scar tissue as well. This was much more complex than anticipated. What should have made them afraid however only made Tech and Omega more determined to be successful. No wonder she’s been in such pain they both thought when they saw the extent of her condition. They loved Citali and did not want her in pain anymore, they had to carry on if that was going to be possible. AZI cut and burned the lesions and adhesions away while Omega and Tech focused primarily on controlling bleeding, assisting AZI where needed, and monitoring her vitals. They also kept Citali updated on what they were doing, knowing that would make her feel more at ease. Her body might be a “machine” but she was not. 

It took many hours but the surgery finished without any complications, apart from a monitor on the medunit giving an impossibly low blood pressure reading. That would be easy enough to fix and Echo made plans to return tomorrow to do so. Citali was then moved to the recovery room for monitoring where AZI and Echo cared for her. Omega and Tech cleaned up and it wasn’t until they threw their blood-stained gloves and gowns away, looked at each other with wide smiles and embraced that it hit them.  

They had done it- they had performed an operation and Citali was okay. True, they needed to keep an eye on her and AZI had done the most difficult tasks but Tech and Omega had accomplished their goals. They had remained level-headed, done their jobs, and most importantly, did something that would improve Citali’s health and quality of life.   

Anaasa’s operation was still a far more daunting task than what they had done but it seemed a little more possible now.  

Wrecker was blowing bubbles for Marina as the baby sat on a blanket between Hunter's legs. Snowball was running through the grass and leaping into the air to catch them, making Marina giggle loudly to the amusement of her mother and Crosshair sitting nearby. Cid on the other hand was pacing back and forth across the garden as she’d been doing for a while. 

Melita had called Cid on her comm after everyone left to let her know Citali was having surgery and as she suspected would happen, Cid showed up less than thirty minutes later to wait for Citali to return home. It had taken every bit of self-control Cid had not to go to the hospital and barge into the operating room.  

“Cid, why don’t you sit down and relax with Crosshair and me?” Melita asked gently as she combed a section of her hair. “Echo said she’s doing well, they just need to monitor her for a bit and wait for the epidural to wear off. I’m sure they’ll be back soon, don’t stress yourself out.” 

“I’ll feel better when I see her myself.” Cid went back to pacing when Melita got an idea. 

“If you’re not gonna sit then can you help me with my hair for a bit? My fingers are getting tired.” 

“Okay Princess,” she said immediately, Melita smiling at Cid’s old nickname for her. Cid was fully aware that Melita was just giving her a distraction but she could not refuse the request. It had been a long time since she helped Melita with her hair, having done so when they both frequented the Ulihira family’s apartment when she was young. One of Melita's favorite things to do as a little girl was to play dress-up. When she came over, she and Citali would wear the different outfits her mother had sewn for them, which oftentimes "required" a change in hair-do. The Trandoshan’s claws were not very nimble so she never became as good as Shi'ari, but they were quite convenient for parting Melita's hair and Cid had developed a technique over time for two-strand twists, a relatively easy style which happened to be what Melita had currently chosen. The distraction worked as intended for it did not seem long before Cid and everyone else heard the Marauder approaching.  

Omega landed the ship close to the house instead of its usual spot hidden among trees and brush, and Citali stepped out supported by Echo and Tech while AZI trailed behind them. She walked gingerly as Cid rushed to her. “Aunt Cid, you’re here,” Citali said, drowsy but happy. 

It did not register that Citali called her “Aunt Cid” in front of others, Cid was just glad to see her. “Is there a reason I had to find out about this from Melita when you were already under the knife?” Cid kept her tone even and smirked a little so Citali did not think she was angry. 

“Sorry, I’ve been out of it since we got back yesterday. And...I kind of thought you might try to talk me out of it.” 

“You’re right, I would have. But what’s done is done, I'm just glad you're all right."

"How do you feel?" Melita asked.

"Have a pretty bad headache from the epidural and kind of sore but honestly, I feel pretty good. Omega, Tech, and AZI did a great job," Citali said smiling at them when Cid suddenly took her hand.

"Let’s get you in bed," Cid said. "I can tell you’re exhausted.” 

“Do you need help getting inside, Citali?” Wrecker asked.

“That’s okay, Wrecker. Walking a little is good for me right now.”  

“I’ll leave you in the care with your aunty then,” Echo said teasingly and Cid scowled. 

“Watch it,” she threatened but Echo was getting good at deciphering the slight differences in Cid’s voice when she was joking and when she was being serious. As much as he wanted to care for his wife, he knew what she craved right now was a parent’s love and Cid was the only person here who give her something close to that. But before making her way to the kitchen door, Citali pulled Omega, Tech, and AZI in for a hug.  

“Thank you. I love you guys so much.” 

epidural- a nerve block. medication is continuously administered in the epidural space around the spinal cord. causes numbness from the waist down. frequently used for pain relief in labor, can also be used during surgeries. (I've actually had an epidural for two different types of surgeries myself because I have bad reactions to general anesthesia. very weird experiences but also kind of cool.)

spinal- also called a spinal block. basically the same thing as an epidural. medication is injected into the dural sac. effects are more immediate and usually stronger.

bolus- the administration of a discrete amount of medication within a specific time, generally 1–30 minutes, to raise its concentration in blood to an effective level.

laparoscopy- a minimally invasive operation performed in the abdomen or pelvis using small incisions with the aid of a small camera. The laparoscope (camera) aids diagnosis or therapeutic interventions with a few small cuts in the abdomen. (this is the name of the type of surgery Citali is having).

FYI- if ever I write about something that anyone is confused by or wants more information about, please let me know!

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#tw: pregnancy loss #tw slavery #tw medical procedure #the bad batch #bad batch fanfiction #call the twi'lek midwife #oc fiction #tw sa mention

[deer333teeth]

i’ve not been…well. I think I’ve been slipping for a long time. slowly. But everything was going so well in my life, I still felt together. I’ve been eating less for a long time. But I was okay, things were finally better with my mom. In school I had routine, I had good grades and a completely occupied mind. I was stressed, sure. But I had distractions every day. I was out of the house all day, saw friends every day. But then I graduated. I haven’t seen my best friend in a l while, we’ve both been too busy. Traveling, covid, work, school, it all added up. Now I’m stuck with myself, and my mom. And her boyfriend. Im alone. Then my mom and I got in a fight again. I really had hope for us this time, but she fell back into the same pattern. We just can’t understand each other. Everything exploded, and I think I completely lost control. My eating disorder is basically back in full swing, probably caused by a combination of the worst dysphoria I’ve ever dealt with in my entire life, and a complete lack of control in every other aspect of my life. I thought I was past this shit. Why can’t I ever move on? I think I’ve been really triggered from my csa too. This time it’s from noticing patterns again. I feel so unlovable here. I push every relationship away because I still don’t feel ready for it. Even though it’s all I want. I want to be loved, I want to be in a relationship, but no one here…I can’t see anyone here as someone I could trust that much. I don’t think I’m capable of that here. Not in this town. I hope college will change that, but what if it’s just me? I spend all day stuck in this fucking house with my insane mom and her boyfriend, I’m so triggered 24/7, I can’t let my guard down for one second to let anyone in that close. Why am I like this?

Im on my windowsill again. Smoking myself to death. It’s freezing out here. My insomnia has been getting bad again. I can’t relax in the day, I can’t breathe. I crave the night so badly, when I won’t have to worry about people seeing me or talking to me. I can just exist in peace, not bother anyone. Just sit and think and feel. It keeps me out here for hours even though I can’t feel my fingertips. I’ve been listening to the same song on repeat for days. “We’ll never have sex” by Leith Ross. It feels like falling asleep in someone’s arms. It hugs you in the way the lyrics speak. I’ve been craving that feeling lately. I just want to be loved.

#my vents #vent #ptsd vent #Spotify

[beconsumed]

i know i said i wasn’t coming back until next week but i need to spit this all out then go again a big huge reason why i haven’t been online is the fact that my family is still very very covid safe. and i mean like ACTUALLY covid safe as in we barely leave the house we don’t see family we only go get groceries or once in a while when we get too stir crazy we will run to a fun store or 2 like joanns which is always empty or some yard sales. we haven’t seen some close family since before this started (and they now think we’re insane) and the family we have seen is like quick driveway exchanges of gifts and some quick chats and thats it! and its so incredibly enraging and disappointing to log on and see people going to the movies and concerts and going on dates or going to bars or going out to eat and hanging out with friends every day like . do you get it. do you get how much this sucks . it is so goddamn depressing and awful  .a family member of mine is immunocompromised BUT even if they weren’t we would still be doing this because

A) covid isn’t a fucking cold its so scary? how are you not all scared? long covid is the scariest thing ive seen how are people not more scared! we don’t even know everything its going to do to us but we know plenty enough to be terrified!!!! and B) WE CARE ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE! we don’t want to possibly be spreading covid without knowing to anyone! especially people who have to risk their lives to work or to get groceries or pick up meds or go to the doctor and are already at risk, why would i want to put them at further risk so i can like “have fun” for a night?

when i say my family goes somewhere/does something we are all double masked with KF 94′s and we are vax’d obviously but like that doesn’t mean as much when no one wears a fucking mask or they do but they went to a concert the night before or a family dinner or whatever the fuck!

it kills me how much all of this stuff im saying is similar to what everyone was saying at the beginning but now those same people have thrown it out the window because they decided staying in the house was too boring which, IT IS BORING! WE DON’T WANT TO BE DOING THIS!!!! i can’t get over people’s willful ignorance in how much this sucks for people actually being safe like, we AREN’T HAVING FUN! but does that mean we just give up and stop caring?!?!? and willful ignorance in the harm being caused every time someone goes to a gathering or hangs out with friends or whatever like . is the domino effect of spreading lost on everyone or what?? and btw i am so sick of people just saying they’re “being safe” when its a situation where its literally not true? like at LEAST be honest with it that’s better than lying about it!

its really the entitlement i can’t stomach it makes me SICK how people think that its fine if they’re not safe because they “want to make memories” they “want to live life to the fullest” they “don’t want to miss out” they’re “lonely” whatever idiotic excuse they make for being an ass AS IF WE DON’T HAVE THOSE SAME FEELINGS?!?!? of COURSE we want to go places, OF COURSE we want to see our friends and family, OF COURSE we want to have some fun, so what makes you so fucking special?!?!? why are you the priority over everyone else?!?! what happened to thinking about others?!?! you’re willing to put other’s at risk, to sacrifice others, to see a fucking concert or eat dinner in a restaurant?!?!

like watching my sibling go through his senior year online while everyone he knows is getting to make their happy graduation memories while he’s stuck at home actually worrying about our health and the health of others has been the most heartbreaking experience, he’s finishing high school so lonely because he can’t find others who feel the same way as him, and everyone thinks we’re “overly dramatic” or whatever for being SAFE!!! what makes it so that you deserve to get those happy memories but those who are at risk or caring for those at risk undeserving??

i know its been said but it has not been said enough that these years have reeeaaally shown people’s true colors in regards to how much they actually care about disabled people and any other high risk groups.

#do i need to do the ''this isn't directed at one person'' song and dance i feel like it doesn't matter #long post #im so mad! im so mad!

[universal-child]

I really need a friend.

I am 32, female socialized, nonbinary, late diagnosed adhd and I just need some kind of person to speak to.

Even before covid I lost so many connections, and after it it’s just three to four people. The one friend I see the most is like 10 a year since 2021 and everyone else maybe twice a year that we even speak.

I only work, go home, speak with my mother who lives (as misting my family) nearby, I smoke to self medicate and then I go to sleep and repeat.

The only people I speak to are my colleagues and my family and none of them are close enough to let me speak openly to them.

My best friends lived so far away, it’s hilarious how fucking easy it is to not tell her what really goes on, I only speak with her about the more obvious shit. And it’s easier, as we haven’t spoken in three fucking months.

But for fifteen years I battle with self harm, my last incident is seven years ago, but I just. Can’t. Stop. Thinking. About. It.

I’m to burned out to get myself help, everything takes so fucking long and I am so full of tiredness and anxiety, it’s crawling up my skin now.

I try to doom scroll fucking everything, social media, ao3, even the fucking App Store and I just get more angry at myself with the minute.

I was too sick to work due to my medication and now I am the third fucking week sick, just sitting on my couch and staring into nothing, drowning in fucking self pity and hatred and everything is just numb.

On Sunday onward at my f+ place, and I really just broke down over nothing. He was so soft and compassionate, but all my trauma is just here again, the same shit since 15 years.

I have spoken to no one in three days and haven’t received a message from anyone in a week.

I feel like I don’t exist. No one is really there.

But I really need to speak to someone.

I need a friend.

#sad #adhd #I hate this #self harm #lonely #my heart aches #personal #this #Depression #help #cologne

[suckitsurveys]

Any recent purchases? I just bought a shirt for my Billie Eilish Lolla outfit, earrings and a bracelet for my Barbie Cafe outfit, and a clear backpack for both days I’m at Lollapalooza.

Have you ever thought about giving up on life completely? Yup. In college it was the worst.

Have you seen the entire Harry Potter series? "You made me watch all the Harry Potter movies. I don’t even like Harry Potter.” “That’s insane! You’ve seen all 8 movies!” (Also, I’ve only seen the first one and read half of the first book).

Do you still have both of your parents? I don’t. I lost my mom 10 years ago this month.

Do you live very far away from Kansas? Not VERY far. Would take maybe 8-10 hours to get there.

Do you enjoy cuddling? I do.

Do you play video games? Meh.

How many colors are in your hair right now? My natural hair color and a faded pink/blonde color.

Do you have your full license yet? Yes.

Do you have the same color eyes as your mother? Yes.

Does your significant other boss you around a lot? Nope.

Do you prefer winter or summer? Summer.

Do you know anyone who has overdosed? Yes.

Are you a fan of PDA (public displays of affection)? I don’t care one way or the other, unless its really aggressive.

Have you ever been put to sleep for surgery? Nope.

Where are your siblings as of now? I really don’t fucking care.

What color shirt are you wearing as of now? It’s purple.

What is your favorite class? I’m not in school anymore.

Are you in love with someone right now? Yes.

Can you speak any other languages than the one you’re fluent in? Not fluently.

Do you take a lot of photos? Sure.

When you were little, did you think band-aids healed everything? Yeah.

Have you ever had a pregnancy scare? Yes.

Where do you download music from? I use Spotify; I haven’t downloaded music in more than a decade.

Have you ever attempted suicide? I came very close to it.

Do you know what ‘irony’ means? Yes.

How many pillows do you normally sleep with? Three.

Do you lose your remote often? Nah.

Have you ever skipped class before? Oh yes.

Are you a regular school skipper? In college for sure. There was a whole semester where my mom would drive me and drop me off and I’d just walk to the train and ride it back and forth until it was time for her to pick me up because I fucking hated college so god damn much it almost killed me.

Do you have any Pay-per-View channels? No..

Who, in your life, makes you feel discouraged? My fucking sister and her fucking husband.

When was the last time you went bowling? It’s been a while.

Do you ever suspect your significant other of lying to you? No.

Are you expected to help fix Thanksgiving dinner? I make mashed potatoes and a homemade green bean casserole (like, we even make the mushroom soup and the french fried onions from scratch).

Is there anything bothering you right now? I’m feeling such a crummy way about my sister right now. I feel completely lost about what to do. She’s treating me more like a babysitter than a sister. She’s treating me like my ex friend treated me and I keep thinking about just walking away from her but I couldn’t do that to my nieces. It’s such an awful feeling.

Would you like to talk to someone about it? I have.

Do you live by any major bodies of water? Yes, Lake Michigan.

Do you tend to make the first move in a relationship? As in, starting one? No. Making the first move as in initiating something sexual? I’d say its about half and half.

Do you spend a lot of time with family? Blah.

How many times have you been to Disney World, if any? Zero with no plans on ever going.

Have you ever lost anyone close to cancer? Yes.

Have you ever been accused of being on drugs when you weren’t? Never.

Do you have a more quiet or loud voice? Soft.

Do you personally know anyone who is transgender? Yes.

When was the last time you got a shot? A year or so ago when I got a Covid booster.

Can you play any instruments? If so, what are those instruments? Not well.

Do you have any diseases? Probably.

Have you ever been into a car accident? Very minor fender benders.

#surveys

[floral-hex]

I don’t know why I’m writing this.

My hearing has kind of gone out again. By “out” I mean I am overwhelmed by tinnitus, dead air, distorted hearing. My hearing aids don’t help, they just make the muddle louder. I’m in a bad place. I feel sick. I’m having a hard time eating. I’m sleeping too much. It’s not just hearing loss, there’s a mental component to it. I feel closed off. I feel so alone. I haven’t been this depressed in awhile. I shouldn’t have stopped antidepressants and now I’m scared to start again because starting them is always the worst, and, well, to be honest, I’ve had a lot of suicidal thoughts these last few days. I can’t see myself living with this for long. I’m scared. I’m alone. Even around others, I feel alone because I can’t understand them and I hate forcing myself and my problems on them. My mother asked how my hearing was today and I broke down in front of her. She’s not my therapist, I hate putting my problems on her, but I couldn’t hold it. I’ve been so desperate for some human contact, for someone to vent to, that I just started weeping. I told her I’m scared about how I’ll live, that I’m falling apart and have been thinking about ending things. We talked for a bit and she said she’d help me make some appointments tomorrow since I can’t really hear right now. I hate this. I hate making her worry. Telling your mom you want to kill yourself… fucking sucks. I don’t know how else to put it. She said she’d take me to the hospital at any hour, if I needed it. She doesn’t deserve that pain. Im not going to do anything harmful. I haven’t reached that point. I’d never want to hurt my family like that. I couldn’t imagine leaving my little brothers. I just don’t know what to do. I feel so overwhelmed.

I wish I could move to some deaf commune like from Sound of Metal. I wish there was a place I could go where I wouldn’t have to worry about my future. Just give me a simple job, a small room, 3 meals a day, and that’s all I want. I’m so lost. I have no friends. No prospects. I miss my dad. I miss being small and having someone else in control. I miss having a partner there, just someone next to me in bed, some other warm body to hold on to when I need physical comfort. I’m sitting in the kitchen right now because I can’t be in my room right now. It feels like a tomb. I hate that it’s 2 a.m. I hate that I’ve been sleeping all day. I have no where to go and I feel alone. I cancelled my gym membership. Too much money and I didn’t have the transportation. They used to be 24 hours before covid. When I first moved back to Arkansas, I was depressed like this. I’d go to the gym at about this time of night while I was depressed. I miss that. Some place to go when my mind needed distracting. Now I have nowhere. I don’t know what to do. I’m just going to keep writing because I need this distraction. I don’t expect anyone to read this. I don’t know if I want them to. To be honest, I don’t even feel like I have friends online anymore. Mutuals keep deleting. All my old friends have moved on. I’m bad at chatting with new friends because I have nothing to talk about. I have such a nothing life. I feel ashamed when people ask about me, about my life.

You want to know about me? I’m… fuck, I don’t remember how old I am. Fuck, I’m 34. I’m 34 and unemployed. I dropped out of college. I can’t hold a job. I was excited about trying to get a job, I thought my hearing had been holding up, I was going to send out applications, I swear, but this present problem has just made me feel hopeless. I can’t make friends because I’m 34, unemployed, live with my family, and have no hobbies besides sleeping and just surviving. I’m sorry. I want to be your friend. I want people to be my friend. I don’t want to die and be forgotten. I put out albums in my 20s! I had a cooking show in high school! I had friends, I went to concerts, I’ve had so many cats. I’m going to be forgotten. My bandcamp will never get visited. I have albums worth of instrumentals I wrote in my early 20s that no one will ever hear. I’ve been thinking about writing a book for years, but I’ve never sat down to actually write. My own family won’t know about these things. I’m going to be forgotten and that feels worse than death. I need my family and friends to know how much I love them. I love them so much. They’re the only reason I don’t want to go. I want to see my brothers grow up. Im so scared. I’m scared for them and I can’t help them. I have nothing to offer them. The world is too heavy. And they’ll be off to college soon enough and I’ll never see them. They’re at that age where they go straight to their room, they don’t talk to me much. I miss watching movies with my little brother. I miss playing video games with them. Talking with them. I just want to hold them and tell them I love them. That they saved my life. That I’ll be here for them as long as I can so please, please don’t shut me out. Please just sit and watch a dumb movie with me and be with me for a little bit because I need to be with them, in that moment, while they’re young, so I can remember this. They’re going to go off to college, they’re going to go live their lives, and I’ll still be here and I know they’ll still love me but I won’t matter as much. I’m worried about my mom. She’s sick all the time. She can’t work anymore. Life is crushing down on us. I don’t want her to hurt. I don’t want her to leave us. I don’t want her to leave her teenage sons. That’s not fair. They need their mom. Their dad already ran off. I don’t want them to be alone. I don’t want them to be 20 and scared and miss their mom. I wish I could be there for them. I told her I was worried about losing her, and she said she could live another 10 years. That sounds like no time at all. 10 years, if we’re lucky. I don’t want to lose her. I don’t want my brothers to lose her.

All I see is everything’s expiration date. I’m so focused on the end. I want to be here, now, but I’m so scared. I’m wasting it. It’s 2:40 in the morning and the world feels dead. I feel like I’m on a dead planet and I’m just sitting here, rotting and postponing the end. It could just end right now, tonight. I know it would be scary, but when it happens, it’s just dark and nothing. Once I passes out giving blood. It was just dizziness, nausea, and then nothing. When I came to, I was surprised how… nothing, it was. It just happened and it was nothingness. No dreams, just gone. I know it’s not the same, but it also kind of is. I’m scared. I don’t want that. I don’t want nothing. I want life. I want to be happy. Please, I need something, I need to be happy, I need a life. I need friends and I need a job and my family and I need my hearing to just fucking figure itself out. I can’t do this “one month of good hearings, one month of bad hearing, repeat.” If I can just survive a little while, I know it’s bad right now. It gets bad.

I have to be positive. I have to be. So tomorrow I’m going to make some appointments, or my mom will if I can’t hear, and I’m going to try to get on some antidepressants, even though I’m scared about how I’ll feel, and I’m going to beg for something like Xanax to help give me immediate relief for these ever increasing moments of massive anxiety and hopelessness. I’m going to try to demand ear tubes. I don’t know if they’ll work, but I’m lost. I’m desperate. Please, just do this small unnecessary surgery so I can feel like I’m doing something. I think I’m going to go back to therapy. I haven’t been in years. I wish weed was legal here, because god knows I need it, but it’s not like I could afford it if I could buy it. I need money. I need to go out. I feel so closed off. I need to go to the movies or bowling or even just back to a gym. Please please let my hearing clear up so I can get a simple job and have some kind of pay check. I shouldn’t be this old and feel this lost.

So now it’s 2:45. I’m in the kitchen. I drank some coffee because I needed the caffeine and sugar to hopefully give me a dopamine boost. I don’t know if it did. I’ve just been crying this whole time, so I don’t know. I slept all day. I need to be awake during the day, so I shouldn’t be drinking coffee, but I think soon I’m going to take some Benadryl, take a shower, and try to sleep until the sun comes up. I feel sick. I’ve been sleeping too much. I have no appetite so I’ve been forcing myself to eat, but it’s all tasteless and hard to swallow. I’ve been here before. I know it can get better. I don’t know how, I mean, everything else seems to be collapsing inward on my family right now, but… I have to believe things can get better. I feel like I’m choking right now. I feel trapped and suffocating. I’m so nauseas and sick and scared. I just want someone to walk in and say “hey, can I sit with you awhile?” I’ll keep going, but this is…

AND I can’t fucking use this app because it eats my battery and overheats my phone! What the hell.

Okay, 3 a.m. 3:05. What am I doing

I ran out of space for tags. This is too long. No one is going to read any of this. Why would you? You shouldn’t. It’s like a really long sad sad rant. Aaaaaaaa I’m losing it. I’m lonely. I’m burnt out. Half tempted to join a cult so I can just live with a group of people that control my life for me. I know that’s a shitty joke and cults are terrible, but also my brain is so bad and I feel so hopeless that when I say I’m half joking, I really do mean I’m partially serious. Sure sure, you’re God, dude, that’s cool, I’ll believe that, just give me a bed, 3 meals, and I’m in. Aaaahh ughhhh 3:15. What am I doing? How many followers will I lose for this? Why do I even have this blog? I’ve been on here for, I don’t know… I want to guess 15 years. Maybe more, maybe less. I don’t know why. It’s some connection to the outside world. No one talks to me on here. Sometimes they do. Some years they do, some years I just “exist” on here with very few interactions. It’s sad. I need real friends. I need a job so my coworkers can be friends. I need money to go out. I need self confidence and money and a job so I can join some dumb dating or friendship app, but right now… okay, I can’t go back down that road right now. Just scroll back up and reread my whining.

3:20. Distract myself. Keep writing. Distract. I can’t write forever. Okay. I need to go. I’ll be okay. I’ll try to be. If you read some of this, I’m sorry, but maybe thank you. I don’t deserve you. This world is so scary and lonely. Thank you for being here. Really. I appreciate you.

#this is a LONG LONG cry for help #it’s okay to unfollow me after you see this huge thing on your dashboard #tw: suicide #also to complain some more: the tumblr app has been killing my phone lately #I need my phone battery to run Bluetooth for my hearing aids and use the roku app to livestream tv audio to my headphones #but this app just sucks up all the battery and makes it overheat #I’ve been charging the whole time I’ve written this and it’s only gone up 3% #how fucked up is that #I probably also need to masturbate for serotonin but I just can’t get in the mood #half tempted to get back on tinder and basically say ‘hey I’m hard of hearing. I’m lonely. I can’t maintain a relationship #but if you want to just sit with me in the park and read or sit close to me and also make out then please hit me up’ #’hello. I’m old hard of hearing poor and boring. please hold me for a little while. I need to know I’m not alone.’ #arkansas just kinda sucks for things to do after midnight that’s not a bar I guess #why did I write all of this #I needed to. #this is why I need a therapist #I’m probably going to copy it down #I thought about sending this to my mom but I can’t rightly put this on her #this depressive pointless stream of consciousness #I just needed to get it out #I feel a little better #but it’s still 3am and it’s too quiet and I’m alone with myself. AND I HATE MYSELF so that sucks #I don’t know how to distract from this #I don’t have the drive to play video games. tv isn’t making me happy #reading is hard lately. my brain doesn’t want to absorb anything written so it makes me feel overwhelmed looking up info that might help me #I need dopamine! or serotonin! I need some sharp boost of happiness so bad. #goddddd… I need help #all my mutuals are deleting and I wouldn’t know how to talk to anyone #I feel alone on this app #text

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

167 of 2023

More random secrets from random people! [True or False]

Created by joybucket

These are all random secrets from random people that I found posted on the Internet. Put an X by the secrets you share, and elaborate if you wish. I really enjoy these surveys, and I hope you do, too. Have fun! :)

I keep feeling like I'm not good enough. I wish I were somebody else. I am at my breaking point on so many different levels. I'm seriously considering quitting my job. I'm so deeply lonely. I am secretly in love with someone who is thirty years older than I am. I am struggling. I'm finding it hard to cope lately. I want to talk to a therapist, but I honestly don't know how. I don't think I've ever been in love. I don't feel like I'm worth being helped. Sometimes I find it hard to be left alone with my own thoughts. I'm so impatient and easily discouraged sometimes. If something doesn't work out the way I want it to on the first try, I just give up. I was surprised, but it came as a huge relief when I finally decided not to have kids. I get angry at every mother who doesn't love her children as much as I would love mine if I could have them. I think it's thrilling not to know what comes next. I believe in God, but I haven't mentioned it to anyone in my family because I think they'll judge me. Fear of Hell once kept me from committing suicide. My daughter is what keeps me from committing suicide. All I want is to sit down for ten minutes and not worry about a single. damn. thing. I feel lost and really afraid. I'm in love with my friend, and he doesn't know it. I adopt due to depression. I don't want to give birth to my own flesh and blood. I've never doubted the existence of God. We're all a part of something, and it's big and important and magical. I wish I could have watched her grow up. My dreams seem so far away. I'm jealous of the people who are close with their siblings. There are so many mistakes I wish I would have made while I had the chance to. I refuse to let people get close to me in fear of getting hurt. Deep down, I always feel as though people don't really like me. I am quite worried about not being able to find work during this COVID pandemic. I seem to be in a very negative state of mind lately. Every time I wake up, I want to sleep again so I won't have to feel anything.... I'm starting to believe true love is only for thin and beautiful women. I'm struggling so much more than I could ever admit. I don't know how to pull myself out of this. I am deeply unhappy, and I don't know what to do about it. I believe in God again. I stalk myself on Instagram just to see what other people see. I'm a closet Catholic. I feel like people are lying every time they tell me I'm beautiful. I know I am capable of so much more. I play the lotto so I can afford to adopt a child. I would genuinely cut all the fat off my body if I didn't think I'd die of blood loss. I hate being the ugly friend. I'm nervous about having sex, because I'm scared my partner will judge my body. (in the past) I felt really ignored when I felt horrible. I asked for help, and I didn't receive it. I want to tell someone I'm suicidal, but I'm afraid they'll treat me like I'm lesser than them if I do, which is the reason why I haven't yet. The man I married raped me before we even dated. I am not actually a lesbian. I am afraid of men. I like someone; I really do...but I am scared. I keep feeling as though I don't know myself. I fear I will spend my life waiting for a love story that doesn't exist. I feel like I'll never fit in anywhere. I have a happy personality with a sad soul. I thought I would feel better after the divorce, but instead I just feel absolutely pathetic for being divorced when I'm so young. I want my old life back. I have been going through so many life changes lately, and I haven't been myself. I am getting tired of not being ok. I'm growing increasingly concerned about my job security. I'm single, because I would rather be alone than with a guy who makes me feel alone. I really need to start therapy, but I'm stubbornly procrastinating taking the next steps. I think I need therapy again. Since losing my virginity, I haven't been able to call myself a Christian. I think my biggest secret is that I'm going to be ok. Life has been getting better than I thought. Today I will make a vow: I will NEVER settle for a boring life. I feel like we're at a really amazing point in history & it's amazing to be a part of it. I have more power than I know. I'd rather play board games on the living room floor than get wasted at parties. I wasted my childhood trying to be grown up. I finally discovered that my greatest fear is not being alone; it's being vulnerable. I'm sorry for not saying all the things I should have said. Everything is amazing and nobody is happy. I am nostalgic, but I am also strong. Maybe this world is another planet's hell. I wonder what it feels like to look at yourself without wishing you looked like someone else. I often wonder if life is easier for other people or if they're just better at faking it. I'm not brave enough to take the risks that would make me truly happy. I married my husband because he reminded me of the man I loved. My creative gifts are worth the mental illness I've suffered for them. Christmas time is my favorite time of year....and I am an Orthodox Jew. My shyness has cost me everything that mattered to me. I always wonder if I've met the person I'm going to marry yet. I wonder how many times my life has been saved because I was running late. All I want is a real conversation with another human being about something that actually matters. I was happier on my graduation day than I was on my wedding day. 👩‍🎓 I love my autistic brain. It makes me who I am, and I love me! I'm afraid I am missing opportunities to meet someone because we are all wearing headphones! 🎧 I wish I had never become a mother. I knew it was a mistake as I walked down the aisle. 💒 I love my family, but most of the time I prefer solitude. I'm fairly certain my wife would be more distraught over losing her phone than losing me. I found my soulmate after my wedding. I cannot clap on beat. 👏 I have a drunk alter-ego that has her own name. I pretend I hate it, but I actually love my body. I remember every time someone called me fat. I thought I'd be happier and more excited to be his girlfriend.

#survey #themed survey #bolding survey

[rhythmandstrings]

2022

Here we go again!

1. What did you do in 2022 that you’d never done before?

Paddle the Whanganui River, finish a degree, get Covid, keep plants alive for over a year, knit a sock, hire an employee.

2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

Nah, still don’t really do those.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Yep. One close friend, and one other friend, as well as several acquaintances. Living that early 30s life...

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Nobody close, but several friends lost parents this year.

5. What countries did you visit?

Just around NZ. Hopefully next year, now that the borders are open again!

6. What would you like to have in 2023 that you lacked in 2022?

I’m hoping by the end of the year to have a place of my own. Maybe even one where I’m paying my own mortgage, rather than someone else’s?

7. What dates from 2022 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

Whanganui River, Pukawa trip, Vanessa and Alister’s wedding, Milford Trip, Caitlin’s visit, Rakuira trip, Wellyfest, probably other stuff. Basically all the lovely travel away with friends.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Finishing a degree in Youth Development, definitely! With straight A+s to boot.

9. What was your biggest failure?

I don’t think I had any super major ones this year, which is really nice. Probably some work stuff around people management and communications of responsibilities.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Got Covid after the Milford trip. It was highly shit and I was down for two weeks, and still recovering for a further three months. 0/10, would not recommend.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

Travel and rips away with friends. A new tramping pack. Some lovely artwork.

12. Whose behaviour merited celebration?

I don’t know. I always find this question really hard. Most people deserve to be celebrated?

13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?

I also always find this one hard. A few of our ex-volunteers, Putin, and the general awful that is alt-right assholes.

14. Where did most of your money go?

Food, rent, travel, and the dentist.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Caitlin visiting. Also travel stuff, friends’ wedding, Jenny Mitchell concerts, and Vanessa starting at work

16. What song will always remind you of 2022?

I’m really not sure this year. Maybe Tug of War, by Jenny Mitchell

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

a) happier or sadder? Happier

b) thinner or fatter? Oh, definitely fatter

c) richer or poorer? Richer

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Going for walks outside, reaching out to friends

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Buying takeaways

20. How did you spend Christmas?

The usual combination of family and family friends. Lunch at family friends’ place, then an assortment of people over for dinner at my parents’ place.

21. Did you fall in love in 2022?

Nah

22. How many one-night stands?

Technically none, but maybe kind of one.

23. What was your favourite TV program?

Buffy. Binge watched it all for the first time, and can’t believe it took me so long!

24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

Not really. I don’t really do hating people, and those that would otherwise fall into the category aren’t worth my brain space.

25. What was the best book you read?

Bonk - the curious coupling of sex and science, by Mary Roach

26. What was your greatest musical discovery?

I feel like I’ve done a lot of listening to new albums from artists I already know and like this year. Maddie Poppe?

27. What did you want and get?

A degree, a bit more free time, several good adventures.

28. What did you want and not get?

Jeans that fit right

29. What was your favourite film of this year?

I haven’t really watched many movies once again. Onward?

30. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

Turned 31. Went to work and had dinner with my family.

31. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Sorting out my stuff enough to be a bit further along the house buying journey? I think overall it’s been a pretty solid year for the most part, though.

32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2022?

Jeans, leggings, t-shirts, and a fair bit of plaid. Comfortable and clean clothes are still my go-to here, and really doesn’t change on a year-to-year basis.

33. What kept you sane?

Music, podcasts, friends, colleagues, monthly supervision sessions, naps.

34. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

I don’t think I can even name someone for this one...

35. What political issue stirred you the most?

Probably the war in Ukraine.

36. Who did you miss?

Caitlin remains top of the list. Ireland is very far away.

37. Who was the best new person you met?

Marlene and Udit, I think

38. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2022:

Trusting others’ assumptions about the priority level of different projects is not the same as confirming them with the whole team, and it’s really a lot better to be sure of this sooner, rather than at the last minute.

39. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:

“It’s just the way that it goes // sometimes the world feels awful slow // and it’s just the way that it is // we all go fishing, ‘til we’re sick of fish // and it don’t make no sense // we all dream of the green over that fence // but it comforts me to know // that it’s just the way it goes.” - Lucy, Jenny Mitchell

40. How did you spend New Year’s Eve?

Board games, pot luck, spa, and friends down the road at my parents’ place.