#i would have been done like 3 months ago but I've been doing it sporadically

[pigfromchino]

165 boxes done! i'm now hiring somebody to kill me with hammers!

#DaB #250 box challenge #i would have been done like 3 months ago but I've been doing it sporadically #drawabox

[naturallyalisia]

Day.. 8

(I'm just guessing at this point) (and procrastination but will jump into it after this)

Medical gaslighting, discredit, nexplanon and my miscarriage story

so I needed mostly wanted to get this out. I had a visit with my gyno yesterday after shift for pelvic pain I've been experiencing. During my visit I got validation and confirmation of an event I haven't really talked about in depth.

Nexplanon to Pregnancy

So in June I had a miscarriage while on nexplanon. For 3 months since that time I've struggled with doctors not believing me because of how "effective" it's suppose to be at more than 99.9%.

Listening to my doctors I've kept in my nexplanon a little over 3 years because it's supposed to still be effective for up to 5 years. I did a 5 year stretch once without any issues. This was my second round. Depending on your body nexplanon can cause irregular bleeding thats really, really short, sporadic or none at all if youre lucky. For me it started of short and light nearly non-existant than it would come sporadically sometimes lasting over a week. It was a down side I was willing to deal with to avoid forgetting taking a pill and getting pregnant by accident.

Now at a pattern I've noticed is when it's coming close to replace the nexplanon for me my period would start getting back into it's normal cycle. Bleeding is more manageable and starts earlier like it usually does. At this moment, I believe I got pregnant end of may/early june. I either ovulated some point before or a bit after. I never kept track because of how irregular my periods were and with nexplanon being a progestinol (dont hold me on this ) it apparently thins the lining of the uterine wall which can cause bleeding. To add this nexplanon is suppose to make it harder for the sperm to meet the egg based on the mucus being thicker thus making it harder for it to move through.

With all that pregnancy was the last possibility on my mind, plus I wasn't active enough for it to even happen (but hey it only takes one time). A wee bit in early june the first week, I did get my period however, it was much easier this time around and much shorter. I thought the period fairies blessed me with such an easy period. After this things started to get weird for me. Emotionally, I was just feeling off and very sad, emotional, tired alot. I chalked it up to dealing with the outcome of moving towards getting divorced. I figured it was all because of that and the feelings surrounding it. Made sense.

Shortly afterword like a week and change after I noticed some scalp pain, and bald/thinning spots in my crown. I had styled my hair differently and stretched it but the loss of the hair was so profound I made an appointment with a derm immediately. The diagnosis was CCCA a form of scarring alopecia. Which devastated me because I was only 28, I didn't style my hair crazy, I wore it mostly natural. I took my new diagnosis and cried in the bathroom before making my next appointment.

In this moment, I thought I was being punished for wanting a divorce and trying to change things. I couldnt imagine what I could of done for this to happen to me. I called my grandma and cried to her on the phone about it and she told me the same thing happened to her around my age. (which made me cry more) She says it was probably triggered by stress but it mostly started when she was pregnant with my uncle. Her hair started to fall out. (yet at this moment it still thing register with me to take a test)

I bring the news back home and let my partner know whats up and the days go by. I started my meds and the following week closer to end of june my partner and I discussed what they wanted to do for their birthday. Regardless of the status of our relationship we still care about each other and still were keeping to birthdays, holidays etc. I started my period again that week and my partner thought it was weird as I just finished a few weeks ago. As I mentioned having sporadic bleeding wasn't unusual for me on nexplanon so I just thought it was that. Plus I was a bit moody before so once again I made sense of it (nearly chewed my partner's head off about peeling a boiled egg)

This time I was experiencing different cramps for the days leading up to D-Day since the "period" started. At some point some where so bad they woke me up. Still thought nothing about it. These cramps had me crouching, stretching and rocking them out. It wasn't super heavy bleeding so up comes my partner's birthday, pop some pain meds and we made a day of it. It was great.

Came home later that night with a huge craving for a ham and cheese with lettuce tomato, swiss, salt and vinegar (iykyk) on a hero. I remember mentioning it and my partner making a joke on how specific the craving was because it sounded like I was pregnant. Laughing it off like yeah, no.

D-Day : The unusual period

So I wake up with the intention to have brunch outside to continue the festivities but my partner wasn't up for it. I started to make breakfast and was hit with a sharp cramp on my right/center side of pelvis. It happened a few more times. I had to grab to the counter to steady myself. Then cramps started to come in waves, consistent. I moved slow got us the breakfast and tried to search for places to go after since the weather was so great. Then the cramping, started to spread from my pelvis, to my lower back to my legs, I could barely finish eating. I couldnt get comfortable, I shifted here, there but the pain wouldnt let up dull but distracting.

I went to bathroom try and see if it was the period poops but nothing. I repositioned myself and saw some blood when I wiped and assumed I overflowed my menstrual cup. I started to feel a bit better and I take cup out and I'm met with one of the biggest clots I've ever seen come out of me. It was more of a clot than blood in the cup. Because of it's unusual size I took it out to take a photo for my doctor as I was suppose to see them anyway that week. I lay it out and I see a small lump in it.

Upon discovery the first thing that came out my mouth was "wtf is that?" I investigate the lump and see that the lump has an attachment, to a string into the larger clot. I separate it from the string and it looked like it was made of smaller string or veins. I poked it and it was hard, the color changed from trom the blood color to a flesh tone. I'm not sure if it was the shock or if it was because I bled alot or because my body expelled this and it was alot but I started get dizzy. I nearly fainted.

I document the event in video and photos and discarded everything. My partner asked me if I was okay, I told them I saw something really concerning in my clot and I don't know how to feel about it. I left it at that. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around it. Progressively my energy dropped so low I could barely walk. Yet, I still was unsure. With my appointment days away, I tried doing some research on my own.

Eventually, a day after I called my mother talked to her about it, shared the experience and the photos/video and she pointed out what I was most afraid of it being a miscarriage. My grandmother the same. So I dug and dug, every answer pointed towards early miscarriage. The following day I bought a pregnancy test to check and see as a lovely redditor told me pregnancy test can read even after miscarriage if you want to confirm, I cross checked with more research on my own.

I both a 2pk, went home took it and it was positive 2x. The interaction between this time and to the doctors was hard. I didn't know how to feel and the experience was terrible trying to find someone to help me sooner rather than later.

Medical Gaslighting and Discredit

When I finally got to my doctors, I found the gyno wasn't available that day so I had to push for 2 days later to see someone to make sure I was all clear internally. From the start, I was hit with skepticism about what happened. As the doctor wasn't a gyno she couldn't say much on the matter. They took my blood and urine (by that time I fully expected it to negative since the lines on my test were faint) I've already stopped bleeding by this point but am still having cramps and pain.

2 Days later I see the gyno, Im nervous as all hell when I try to explain to her immediately she starts at me. She tells me it's impossible, how it could be if I'm on birth control nexplanon. My HCG levels were 0.06 and that I wasn't pregnant. Despite me telling her about the positive at home. She wanted to draw blood again and I said no, she was obviously very annoyed with me because I said I didn't want to get poked again. The doctor that took my blood earlier was very harsh and I don't want someone who's annoyed with me drawing anything from me.

I get an ultrasound same day, it's clear with the exception of some small ovarian cyst not unusual for me. The sonographer also had a hard time trying to figure out how I could have gotten pregnant. Mind you this is well over 5 days since the miscarriage. I went back to the gyno to get the test gone over and she points out I have cysts. That I need to change my birth control because it failed and how I can change it with them or try a new birth control.

I tried to prob for answers, if it wasn't a miscarriage what was it? It's weird this has never happened to me before. She gets annoyed again as if I wasn't suppose to ask and tells me it was a cyst. I passed a cyst. That didn't sit right with me but I said okay and that I'd let them know if I want to remove my birth control here. When I looked at my chart she listed it as a dermoid cyst. A cyst that doesn't pass and needs surgical removal. I got another opinion and was told that cyst rupture they don't pass in your period.

When I went back to her and expressed what I found out during a pap smear, she was quiet and didn't say anything else in regard to it being a cyst. From that point her tone changed with me. Haven't gone back since.

Today and more understanding..

I've struggled for months wondering, asking, probbing on what happened. I thought I was crazy even though I believed me, my family believed me, friends. It felt like because they didn't discover the pregnancy that it didn't happen. If their test didn't show and confirm it I was wrong, no consideration for what I physically went through.

But my most recent visit, I went in for something else and pregnancy past and present always come up. When I mentioned it to her, she listened, she asked me questions and didn't write me off because I was on nexplanon. I even told her it made it hard to really understand what was going on because of how it was effective was, they didn't believe me yet they wanted me to change the birth control because it failed.

I asked my current gyno about the possibility of it being a cyst instead of a miscarriage/pregnancy. She told me no just as my original 2nd opinion. She calmly explained to me that whether it was you or them that took the test and it was positive, it was a early pregnancy loss. The fact that I took two and they were both positive. She made note on my chart confirming the pregnancy and the loss.

Now that it is confirmed, I feel such a weight off my head. When she said nothing is 100% certain and if mary can get pregnant without having sex, then this isn't impossible. Now I feel better, I feel like I can grieve properly and know that this happened and it wasn't all in my head.

Aside from this, smaller things I've notice that support this, my hair started growing back. I shaved it off to start fresh, but it's growing slowly but surely even in the bald spots. Now if it'll be as thick as before I dunno but next I may have to see if i need a re diagnosis for my alopecia.

#original post #miscarriage #nexplanon #reproductive health #medical gaslighting

[futurequibblerjournalist]

right fuck you here's a bunch of questions from fanfiction writing asks game: 4, 20, 23, 29, 35, 41, 46, 51, 57, 68 & 75. Enjoy answering these you bastard < 3

Damn okay, sounds like a fucking threat fknbjgnbjg I will happily answer this threat for you, you little shit < 3

4. How do you choose which fics to write?

Pretty much just vibes, honestly. I come up with most of my ideas very sporadically, so it's all about what I'm feeling at the moment. I wish I had a more interesting answer, but I usually just look through this little notebook I've got that I write all my ideas in and randomly pick something for whatever ship I'm feeling at the moment. Tho I will also say that if a fic I'm planning is getting hyped by others there's a good chance it'll get prioritised lol, I'm a simple man

20. Do you prefer writing AUs or canon fics?

That's,, a hard question?? I think with the Marauders fandom there's still so much to discover and interpret when it comes to canon fics, but also there's not exactly a whole lot of,, canon??? It's fun to explore different takes and I do have stuff planned for canon fics but I think my own ideas appear easier when it comes to aus. If you look at my currently published fics this is pretty clear too. I'm personally really into incorporating "canon events" into aus or at least partially in some sort of au translation if that makes any sense lol. Sometimes it's fun when aus mirror canon (partially or fully) but I also find it very fun to just,, go ham with whatever really lol. That was a lot of words for me to realise that's it's probably aus lmao

23. Is writing the beginning, middle, or end of the story easiest? Hardest?

I don't know if there's any part of the story I find the easiest to write? It depends a lot on how solid my outline is lol. If I have too little it'll all become a struggle because then my brain suddenly has to spend time coming up with ideas instead of focusing on writing and those two seem to come from two different places in my brain. Hardest, however, will probably always be the ending. I think especially if it's something longer with multiple chapters or a high word count. The more time and energy I spend on a project, the more I struggle. I love so many of my projects, especially the longer ones, and the fact that they're gonna be done and over and I'm not going to work on them anymore is something I struggle with and my brain just sort of blocks me from finishing things sometimes. I've got a 25k story that I started writing almost two years ago that's literally only missing the ending, but I can't bring myself to finish it quite yet vjnfjbngj

29. What’s something about your writing that you’re proud of?

I had to think long and hard about this vjnfjbngjb I'm not sure if the people would agree lol, but I feel like I've got a pretty good grasp on how to portray emotions. Whether it's through subtle body language, interrupted speech or general involvement with the environment and setting a mood for the scene that way, it's probably one of the things I think I do best? I used to struggle with it, but I put a lot of work into trying to improve and since it (at least to me) has been successful, I'm quite proud. There's also just nothing better than when I get told I've captured a character accurately, especially when it's someone you thought you were doing a shit job at (Yes, James, I'm looking at you lol)

35. What’s your favourite fic you’ve posted?

I think it's going to have to be A Very Merry Christmas Cliché. Which honestly doesn't surprise me in the slightest. I'm insanely proud of it, both for it being my first time writing Jegulus, it being my first fic posted on a schedule but also the fact that I wrote an outline, just short of 71k words and published all of it in under a month. It was such a passion project and all the lovely comments I've gotten on it has only made me fonder of the whole thing.

41. Who’s your favourite character you’ve written?

It changes constantly honestly. I love writing Barty, Regulus, Remus and increasingly James?? He's so unlike any other character I enjoy writing, but hearing continued praise for how I write him has only made me more fond and proud of my portrayal of him somehow? I mean, it makes sense, praise breeds that sort of thing usually, but James isn't exactly a character I find myself relating to a whole lot, or so I thought? I don't know if I'm realising something about myself or something like that haha, but my desire to write him has skyrocketed recently.

46. If you could only write one type of AU for the rest of your life, what would it be?

It feels like cheating to say a muggle au lol, but it's an answer that allows for a lot of different aus to be added as like,, secondary aus?? I don't think I lean towards any more specific aus than that? Also!! When I say a muggle au I don't mean a modern one!!! Not necessarily at least lol

I'm trying to think of any more specific aus and all my brain can come up with is tropes?? So yeah, bonus answer to the question I guess, if it was one trope for the rest of my life it would probably be hurt/comfort or MCD

51. Does what you like to write differ from what you like to read?

Not a whole lot, honestly. I'm a sucker for romance and queer stories and that's pretty much all I both read and write? I write significantly more smut than I read tho, I will say that lol

57. How conscious are you about including symbolism or foreshadowing in your fics?

SO CONSCIOUS!!!! Like???? I can happily spend hours thinking about that shit, I am an English teacher's dream. Yes, I made the curtains blue on purpose, yes he's looking out the window for a reason, oh there are flowers in the fic? You can bet your ass those have some symbolism behind them. I fucking love symbolism, I'm such a sucker for them and I will happily spend hours googling and double checking and all that shit to make sure they're accurate and fit well. I spent so much time researching symbolism for that previously mentioned 25k word story I need to finish, but there's definitely also some of it in other stuff I write.

I plan out fics quite far in advance, I usually don't start writing until I have the whole thing outlined, both to be able to add a bunch of foreshadowing (but also to avoid plotholes lol)

I can't say it's as much of a conscious decision in some of my smutty works, but there's some stuff in there too. I can't wait to share more of the work that features more symbolism vjfnjbgnjb,, I really need to finish that fic, even if it's not a Marauders fic

68. Are there any fics that influenced you to write the way you do?

I can't say there is, not consciously at least? I admire a lot of other writers and I'd say their works certainly inspire me, but I don't actively feel influenced by them. If I do it's little things like terms and phrases and perhaps actions (thank you Katie for inspiring the little dick pat on Barty's tongue, it's getting a feature in the sharpshooter fic lmao)

I do find myself influenced by the writing styles of traditionally published books. I don't know if it's because I sit with them physically in my hands, but some books that I've really liked the writing styles of have been Carrie Soto Is Back and The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo both by Taylor Jenkins Reid, as well as A Good Girl's Guide to Murder by Holly Jackson (though I'm still currently reading that one). It's perhaps not as noticeable, but I like the sentence structures both authors use and their use of inserts (news clippings, interviews, etc). I don't know if this is how the question is supposed to be answered but oh well, this is what you're getting haha

75. Is there a particular fic that readers gravitated towards that you didn’t expect?

110% a losing game. It's only my second "jegulus" fic and even then this was "just" a solo fic with Regulus. It was the first fic I wrote after A Very Merry Christmas Cliché and I was surprised to see how fast it got hits in comparison, not that I'm complaining. But damn, people are horny for Jeggy lol

Thank you for the question, this took me literal hours to answer lmao < 3

#writer ask game #ask game #fanfic writer ask

[kaz3313]

Meeting with the Opposition

Chapter Two; Chapter One is below (previous link wasn't working) Chapter 3 is in the makings

@artthingymabob is who inspired me!

@dystopianinterstellar @azirafuck (also ask if youd like to be on the tag list!)

I honestly thought this would be a one off thing but oopsie daisy I got inspiration big time! Hope everyone enjoys 😊 Reblogs super appreciated

[[MORE]]

  Azriphale doesn't mean to be late yet here he is running through a crowded sidewalk people giving him nasty sideways glances. He isn't technically late but he isn't early; everyone in Heaven is slightly early as the term "fashionably late" was made by a demon and no angel wants to be associated with one of those. Well besides two; one of which is dubbed a traitor and the other is desperately weaving through crowds and could be considered a hypocrite if anyone is to find out why.

  The reason he is running late is because of Heaven; an angel gone off the deep end. They created quite a ruckus- shouting threats at everyone, causing damage to walls, and pulling up several plants from a garden. It was a fit not tolerated in Heaven and so it ended with them being locked in a room until further notice. He being the one to find an unoccupied room as well as having to catch them. Aziraphale is almost positive they'd have to put them through a trial (and he'd have to organize it) but when is still in the unforeseeable future. Even if he does calm down in that time period they is no possible way of getting out of a punishment.

   The angel arrives just on time but his face falls at the sight of the demon, Crowely, has already nabbed a table. An odd feeling, that isn't embarrassing, arises in him at the thought of the demon sitting at the table, awaiting his arrival. An odd tingly half familiar feeling he shoves down while approaching the demon in wait.

   "I would usually apologize for being late but l, since you are a demon and I don't dare say sorry to your kind, I won't," Azriphale states sitting down not daring to make eye contact with the other.

   "You aren't late, really you're perfectly on time. But our kind don't take well to apologies anyhow; anyone who tries we throw into the hell hound pit and bet on how long they will last," Crowely says and Azriphale looks up; the most horrific look plastered on his face. "I'm joking! I'm joking! Thought a being from Heaven could take a joke!" He lets out a hearty chuckle and Azriphale gives a forced smile in return.

  Crowely is only half-way being truthful in this, as he is with most things, as demons tend to throw each other in hell hound cages all the time. The difference being from what he said is that apologies don't cause such a reaction; it really is just a sporadic action done whenever something mildly inconvenient but thoroughly irritating happens. He doesn't explain the logistics though as he can clearly see the angel is troubled.

   Why he cares is a completely different story that Crowley will rather not want to think about. If he did try to explain though the conversation that followed would contain lots of half truths, hissing, stuttering, made up words (which if you mention that they are made up he will snarkily reply with "well all languages are made up) and end with someone getting stabbed in a major artery. So it's best to leave him be with his unusual consideration.

  "I suppose we should get right on to business since the jokes have ceased?" 'And proven to be unfunny' but Azriphale only adds that on in silence. He doesn't want to push any buttons he doesn't have to today.

  "Thinking 'bout ordering drinks first; Hell has been a bitch like usual and I've needed something to take my mind off it. So drinks first, work talk after," 

  "Drinks don't sound half bad," He momentarily massages his temples before picking up the drink menu "With no war I'm assuming Hell's been rowdy?"

  "Rowdy is a group of bratty teens whose equally bratty parents are going out for a month. Hell is a barnyard that has no food,drink, or cages and several exotic animals. Everyone is ravenous. Demons are thirsting for bloodshed so much we've had to bust several groups trying to form secret strikes to Heaven that would not only fail miserably but be embarrassing to see play out. One guy thought he could do a solo mission- and I have little respect for your army but I'm also not stupid and would send a single low ranking demon against God's army," Crowley rants and if not for the waitress' arrival he would've gone on a tangent. He orders the drinks flatly and expects Azriphale to follow suit immediately.

  The angel however is smiling at him which led to a flick of rage ignite. What had he to smile about? That hell was hellish and chaotic? He should know that just because everything is a shit-show they were not to be reckoned with. 

  "Same wine as his, dear," Azriphale addresses to the waitress and she smiles politely before heading back to the kitchen. "I find it amusing; the angels above are getting antsy themselves. Today actually one of them was found flinging a sword around wildly yelling about how they would deliver "divine justice" to anyone in their path. Of course angels aren't as cruel as demons but...the war not happening has thrown everyone off course. Even the most mild mannered".

  That's why he was smiling- a light weight lifts off Crowley's shoulders. "This is exactly why the two traitors need to be dealt with soon- I feel it would bring ease to everyone. Including, the eventual, second Armageddon," The waitress returns a smile of ignorance on her face. She didn't understand how weeks ago she should've perished nor does she know what these "fine" gentlemen are discussing. All she knows is what wine and food they order and all she hopes is that they give her a significant tip.

  "No doubt; those trouble makers will be given proper justice," Azriphale says picking up his glass of Chardonnay.

  "And no mercy," Crowely adds on, raising his own glass "Toast for the second Armageddon that-is-hopefully-soon-to-come, Angel?"

   "To a successful second apocalypse!" The two clink glasses both wearing uncharacteristic smiles and having found a new sense of determination.

  "Ssso you're ssaying?" Crowely slurs out, its blurred whether alcohol or his snake side were responsible for his long s'. Many drinks are shared between the two and many more were to come. Business is attempting to be addressed but as neither has the gull, or maybe the relaxation is a tad addictive, to sober up halfway thought up plans were being discovered.

   "I say that- well I think anyway. Why not just, we'll just watch the two! Eventually they'll bl-blab out something of importance! How they- how they gone- they gone to go be naive,"

 "Native, you ssstupid Angel,"

   "Oh, same difference! It doesn't matter exact terminology. All that matters is...well is the- the plan," Azriphale waves his hands around before returning to his empty glass. Instead of flagging down the waitress, they had the poor girl running back and forth like mad, he flicks his fingers and both glasses fill up. Crowley opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it and sips the wine. "Whether its the Great Plan or Ineffable Plan or might as well be Plan B, I really don't care. We just need a plan,"

   "We have our plan," Crowley says with a slight huff.

   "Our plan?" The words our, referring to him and Crowely feel so foreign, scandalous even, but fit on his tongue like a well tailored outfit.

  "Yeah- Watch Gabriel and Beelzebub until they fuck up again. Y'know feel too safe let some information slip. Maybe we'll learn a weakness or two-whatever. And once we know all the right sstuff we crush them!" Crowley slams his fist on the table to reiterate his point.

  "Our plan," Azriphale still echoes quietly as if it is a secret to keep. Which in a way it is; if the other Archangels knew what he's up too, even under the sake of serving retribution, he could get in big trouble. Consorting with Demons led to well... he looks up at Crowley whom he's had two meetings with so far and more to come...apparently it led to professionals getting involved to track you down to find your weaknesses.

  Sure maybe the other Angels wouldn't understand and take what he's doing a completely wrong way but he is doing what is good! Surely if he wasn't God would punish him, right?

  "I'd say let's get dessssert before we head out our separate ways, eh?" Crowely says bringing the fretting Angel out of his worries (or at least creating a temporary distraction from them).

  "Dessert sounds lovely. I heard the creme brulee is to die for,".

#ineffable husbands #good omens #good omens au #azriphale #crowely #swap au #long post #tw drinking #yes i made parallels that is my job #ask to tag

[theartistknownasvanity-blog]

I have always known that I was meant to do something GREAT with my life! I'm Vanity and I am the creator, owner and instructor at Vanity Fitness & Dance Instruction. I'm 36 years old and from the Southern New Jersey Suburbs of Philadelphia. Second generation Irish Catholic, we grew up in a quaint little town just five minutes away from Camden, NJ, one of the most dangerous cities in the entire Continental United States for several years standing. Needless to say, I've seen my fair share of struggling individuals. Fortunately, however, I didn't have to see it up close and personal until I was older.

I had a pretty normal, semi-strict, somewhat functional, and wonderful upbringing. My mother could not possibly have done a better job and there's not a single, solitary person on this entire PLANET who could've done it better. It is quite remarkable that she did it all on her own without ANY help from my *Father. My grandparents were in the picture from the time I was born and I had two Uncles that I was extremely close to, one of which I even call "Dad". There were plenty of good examples around me of what a healthy relationship with a man should look like. More importantly, my mother taught me what it should NOT look like and that when it doesn't look right, you leave and you NEVER look back! My mom left my dad when I was 3. My sister was just 18 months old. My Dad would come visit sporadically up until I was six years old. Then he just stopped coming altogether.

I lost my grandfather in 3rd grade. That was the second time I had experienced a major loss of a parental figure and I was only 8 years old. Shortly after that, my Uncle I call "Dad" moved out of the house and took a new job in Rhode Island. I had lost my two father figures at once... All over again!! Then I lost my grandmother a few years later when I was 17.

Needless to say, I had several emotional problems when I was growing up. They manifested in different ways and at different points throughout my life. I was finally (properly) diagnosed as having Borderline Personality Disorder & Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome in 2006 after several innacurate diagnoses.

I have battled a serious addiction to Heroine. I will have five years clean on April 17, 2019. I lived homeless on the streets of Camden for years. I was in and out of jail. I was never a criminal, just an addict. It was always over something stupid having to do with finding ways and means to get more. Addiction is a disease; NOT a character defect.

I was raped repeatedly, and sexually assaulted. I've been assaulted by the police. I have had guns held to my head and knives pulled out on me. I've been kidnapped, and was ALMOST trafficked but I was lucky that I was smart enough that I came up with a way to get out of there almost immediately.

I honestly believe that helping to improve our world is part of my mission. If I were to become Mayor of Camden, I could use my experiences on the streets to help clean up the streets. I am the PERFECT WOMAN for the job. I know those streets. They are also MY streets. I want Camden to be beautiful again - a place which we can say we are TRULY PROUD to be from.

*My father, Donald, died in late July, 2016. My father made amends. He apologized for being a shitty father early in my life when it was crucial for him to be there. I forgave him WELL over ten years ago. I had the chance to have a relationship with him later in life and that's really all that matters in the long run.

[sibilantly]

hi, sib. i just read your fic persistence, and it was so beautifully done that i wanted to drop you a note. your writing has seriously been such an influence on mine, but lately i've been having so much trouble because of my ocd. now i can't read anything without nitpicking the grammar, much less write. it's been this way for months now and i feel like i'm losing my mind. all i ever wanted was to write something good but... well, at least i still get to read something by you. i shall be content.

I’m sorry for the delay in replying, anon. Your message was so thoughtful, but also struck this… almost painfully bittersweet, personal note with me, and I had to take a couple days to reflect.

I’m so happy you enjoyed Persistence - it was a lil 500 word labour of love, but it’s somewhat different from my usual body of work, and I was a bit nervous putting it out there. So I’m delighted you enjoyed it. And it’s quite flattering to hear I’m an influence on your writing, since I feel I’m still learning the craft of writing, in many, many ways. Thank you!

Now, as for the latter half of your message…

Oh, anon.

Nonny non anon, I feel you. I’ve been… well, perhaps not right in your shoes, as I have never had OCD. But I’ve been in the same vicinity, most definitely.

Up until half a year ago, or thereabouts, my writing process was: write out a few paragraphs (if that - sometimes it was barely a paragraph) and then rework them. I would rework them over and over and over, until I felt they were just right. Only then did I feel I could move on. I felt like I was laying the foundations for a house, you know? If I didn’t get the first things laid down just right, then everything that came after would be on shaky ground, might even come tumbling down.

Thing is, writing is more like sculpting. You dig up some clay (your discovery draft or your outline, whatever), you mould it (your first draft), and then you carve and add little bits, over and over (editing. and more editing. and more. fucking editing >.>)

Anyway.

Eventually, I started slowing down, and the threshold of what I could stand before I needed to edit got smaller. It became ‘write a few lines. stop. edit those lines over and over’. And then it became ‘write one line. stop. edit that line over and over’. Rinse, repeat.

It got to the point where I stopped writing completely, for almost half a year, because everything I wrote down was so far from what I envisioned in my head, it was crushing. I had the exact same despairing thought you did: ‘All I want is to write something good’. And if I didn’t write it down, if I kept it in my head, it was good. It was perfect, in fact. Surely that was better (I thought to myself).

I feel you, I feel you, I do.

I wish there was some magic bullet that I could use to erase all those thoughts from you, to divide writing from editing in your mind, because they’re two very different processes. I would… well, I would use it on myself first, because I am human and selfish, but then I would turn it on you, and everyone else who is plagued by this period ;)

But the horrid thing (which I was very, very displeased to realise), is that if you want to write, the only thing you can do in this period is just… push… through it.

D:

It’s the worst fucking epiphany ever. If I got that in a fortune cookie, I’d be fucking pissed. But it’s seriously all there is.

There’s nothing wrong with not wanting to write, if you ultimately decide it’s not for you.

BUT.

If you do want to write, or if there comes a time when you’re not content with reading, and… y'know, you’re willing to indulge me, random fanfic lady on the internet, I want you to do this:

Pick up the pen (or put your fingers to the keyboard, but if you can, I recommend pen because you can’t backspace pen and paper) and eke out some words every day.

It doesn’t have to be a lot. It might just be a sentence.

Whiskyrunner, who we all generally acknowledge to be amazeballs, went through a period where her goal was 10 words a day because she knew she could achieve that.

That’s important. Pick a word count that you know you can achieve, not one you have to push yourself to achieve, because if you fail, you will self-flagellate. Trust me, I have been there. I hated every son of a bitch who recommended ‘write every day’, because for every day I failed to write a page, I’d hate myself a little more, and the joy I found in writing would shrink. (And they’d always recommend a page, or pages, and I’d be like, ‘What, motherfucker? There are some days when I can’t summon up the energy to get out of bed, and you want me to write a page? Pages?’ There should be some script that edits ‘write every day’ to ‘write an amount that’s achievable for you every day, even if it’s one sentence’, I think.)

Write until you hit your word goal or until you’re satisfied, whichever you have the mental energy and fortitude for that day. If there’s a day where you do the latter, don’t fall into the trap of thinking you have to match that the next day. Don’t move the goal posts. Your goal is still (X) words. Everything beyond that is like the stretch goal on a Kickstarter. Nice, but not the main aim.

Next (and this is the hard part - or, at least, it was for me: do nothing.

Don’t tweak them. Don’t delete them. Don’t touch them.

The second you hit your goal, close the doc, close your notebook - whatever you write in. You did it, you achieved the goal, which is ‘(X) number of words’.

Do whatever you need to do to remind yourself of that.

Your goal is not '100 (or 50 or 25 or 10) good words a day’. Your goal is words.

Just words.

To paraphrase Bane: now is not the time for qualitative judgement, only quantitative. Right now, you’re at the 'digging up the clay’ stage of the writing process. You’re just trying to get enough clay to sculpt into some lumpy-looking motherfucker which you will eventually carve down into your nice sculpture.

(Don’t think about the sculpture right now. Think about (X) number of words, and digging up clay.)

There was a point where I did all sorts of objectively bizarre things to remind myself of this, and to outfox my anxiety-ridden brain and its need to edit, including, but not limited to:

- writing on a fresh page each day, even if it meant 90% of the preceding page was still blank

- opening new docs each day to write my daily goal (which I would then have to piece together later, haha)

- using that program - ilys? - that only lets you see the last letter of what you typed

- muttering to myself ‘the goal is (X) words. the goal is (X) words. the goal is (X) words. only the number of words matters. only the number.’

If you’re anything like me (and, hey, I felt your message on a deep level, so I think we’re at least a little alike), you will hate every word you write with this process. You will hate this process, period. You will want to go back and retool the words because holy fuck, what if someone, somehow, gets access to your notes and sees this mess you just eked out? What if you die, and all that’s left to show of yourself as a writer is this half-written piece of shit?

(Okay, maybe that last fear is just me.)

Still. This is normal.

But how you feel about your writing immediately after writing it is not an objective, accurate measure of how good it is. You’ll be tired, you’ll be stressed, you’ll be comparing it to the image you have in your head and thinking about how far apart they are and despairing.

Stop there.

Close the doc (or the notepad, or the notebook, or turn over the post-it note (I did that at one stage, too - writing on post-it notes, haha)). You did it, you wrote the words. You dug up some clay. No one will see them but you, and whoever you choose to show them to. You can edit them later. You can make them better, or throw out whole paragraphs or whole pages if you need to. But later. Only after you finish the draft, however many new pages or new docs (or post-it notes) it takes.

Try to be kind to yourself. It’s so damn hard, I know it is, but try to remind yourself that what you wrote for the day does not define you as a writer. Even the finished, edited work does not define you. It just shows what you were capable of writing in that moment, on that day, at that point in time.

I can’t guarantee this will work for you. But there is something to be said for habit, for retraining one’s brain (to a certain extent). If you do want to try writing again, and you try this, anon, know that I’ll be proud of you, and I’ll salute you for the very act of trying.

Much love,

Sib

(P.S.: Here, I recovered a partial copy of the very first draft I wrote of Persistence. I don’t know where the rest is (on paper, probably), but hopefully it’s enough for you to see the difference between draft and finished work, and to… idk, have a good chuckle, maybe, but hopefully feel reassured, too ;). We all write shitty first drafts. They’re the clay that you mould into something better.)

They’re two levels down, in a sunny, light-filled build meant to evoke the mark’s childhood home and favourite holiday spot, when the windows and the door and the fucking walls blow in, and a SWAT team swarms in like a tide of gun-toting ants.

(DUST, STUFF FLYING EVERYWHERE. YELLING. CHUNK OF PLASTER GOES FLYING TOWARDS EAMES.)

Eames ducks, which means the chunk of plaster misses him, but, unfortunately, takes out Cixin, their extractor, with a wet crunch. They’ll have to work on Cixin’s spatial awareness later, Eames thinks.

The SWAT team levels their guns at the remainder of Eames’ team. Even a few years ago, Eames might’ve considered running. Now, he just raises his hands, gets down on the ground when ordered to.

Everyone else runs.

There’s sporadic gunfire, the sound of running footsteps, truncated screams and cut off swearing as Eames’ team is violently kicked out, one by one.

Eames stays where he is until silence reigns.

(FOOTSTEPS, A GUN MUZZLE AGAINST EAMES’ BACK, BUT NO SHOT COMES.)

Eames peeks upward, just in time to see the leader of the SWAT team yanks his mask off, revealing Arthur’s exasperated, sweaty face.

“I can’t believe you’re working today, of all days,” Arthur says. “I should probably shoot you just for that.”

“But you won’t.” Eames rolls over onto his back, smiles his most charming smile as he gets to his feet. “And you have to admit it’s somewhat fitting, me working today.”

Arthur smiles fondly, diluting the exasperation. “Maybe.” He looks Eames up and down. “You look good.”

“You’re lying, but thank you,” Eames says. He nods at Arthur’s outfit. “That looks good on you.”

Arthur is inspecting his outfit. “You know, this wouldn’t be a bad disguise, if you were working on an opposing team. Make the other team think you’re the mark’s militarisation–”

“Stop right there.”

“What?” Arthur says. “Worried you’ll be tempted away from the side of the angels?”

“Worried I’ll be tempted away from my regular paycheck, anyway,” Eames says, sniffing.

Arthur chuckles, then nods upward. “Are they going to give you the kick soon?”

“Not just yet. They’re probably debating whether or not I’ve gotten to the safe or not.”

“You need to get on top of that,” Arthur says. “You can’t have your team hesitating over what to do next on live jobs.”

#anon #anon reply #long post #text post #very very long post #navel gazing #writing #writing is hard #do it anyway