#if you are anxious about covid you are wrong and the reason why things are where they are | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

humansun · 11 months

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nothing is aligned my friends

Written June 14th, 2023 at 12:50AM

Wow! Look at me! I am on this document. I never thought I’d make it, but here I am.

Yesterday, I was very sick. Bed-ridden if you will. It was pretty much awful. I haven’t gotten a positive test from the covid tests, but for some reason, I feel like it’s covid! It just feels horrible to be sick.

Yesterday, I was thinking about how perhaps the reason why I feel so down about myself is because the main way I was able to get serotonin or joy in my life was based on my productivity and accomplishments. That’s interesting, isn’t it? Maybe the way other people get serotonin and joy is because of other aspects of their life that bring this to them.

That, or we live in a society that rewards productivity and having a full-time job instead of those who try to find a different path to their success. Perhaps this society rewards the traditional definition of success. I could be very very wrong, but it’s fun exploring what the possibilities of my emotions are. Maybe I’m just victimizing myself because I feel bad about myself in this situation.

Because what I’m going through specifically is extremely difficult. And it is.

I have half a month to finish everything I said I’d finish or else I won’t have boba for the rest of the year. That sounds awful, but at the same time, so needed. I need a taste of punishment. LOL I need some humbling, disciplining for not getting my work done. Shake. My. Head.

There’s something about Asian American content nowadays that feels catered towards middle-class, educated communities - and not saying that people outside of these communities can’t watch, but it feels catered to those folks. People who go to UC’s or have college degrees and are making money to pay for these subscriptions.

It’s interesting. I also came across that pinterest post that was highlighting the hierarchy of humor. What. It’s fascinating to observe objectively the world we live in, specifically media. It’s interesting critiquing it myself and trying to understand what about AAPI media nowadays that doesn’t necessarily sit right with me. Who in Hawaii actually lives a life anywhere similar to Doogie Kamealoha? I’m not sure anyone.

But at the same time, it’s a process. Things can’t change overnight. What do I even want to see? What can I even make that could be half as good as Beef? I’m not sure anything!

I’m learning more everyday that it’s not always about AAPI media, but it’s about what I want to engage in as a creator myself. What stories and energies am I attracted towards as a partially eccentric person myself? I’ll admit it - I didn’t realize cream cheese was literally cheese in cream form until earlier today. I also learned that I have intense cuteness aggression for my Fuzzy Fish aka my boyfriend. What is happening. Who am I. What am I doing?

Will I change unless I actually change? The answer is probably no. I will probably be doing and thinking the exact same shit when I’m 30 unless I go through something intense or super changeworthy. And I don’t have that yet?! Do I sign up for a meditation retreat? But what if it’s a cult? Ugh.

This is my brain. Hello. Yes. This is what I think and especially so when I am sick at my sister’s home, quarantining from my family in order to be a good daughter. I love the narrative of pulling myself up by the bootstraps and doing things because other white men did it with their $3-$10k to make their own movie, yada yada yada. Obviously, there is good stuff in there but at the same time, how anxious were these men? Do they walk around afraid someone’s going to kidnap and rape them? No.

I’m screaming from the inside out. Nothing is making sense. Nothing is altogether. There is no light at the end of the tunnel. I’m just dancing in my seat. That is the moral of the story. I’m going to watch Kung Fu..KUNG FU WHAT. KUNG FU HUSTLE with my sister next week and suddenly I will be injected with all these creative juices and my life will change. That is what is going to happen. Yay. Life is solved. Everything is wonderful. I am blessed. Gratitude. Meditation. Anxiety-free brain. Whoooo!

Written 1:15PM

I keep getting distracted by random youtube or instagram or any social media content. Woo! Life sucks.

Guess what though! I was listening to a podcast about anxiety this morning and have decided to go sober on the following things:

Caffeine

Alcohol

Drugs

With the exception of celebrations like weddings or someone’s birthday.

Written June 14th, 2023 at 9:47PM

The constant feeling of impending doom when night falls is annoying. I’m getting the energy endlessly sucked out of me. At least I’m prepared though.

I have never loved anyone the way I love my Fuzzy Fish.

He is the epitome of a wonderful human being who brings me immense feelings of delight. I wish one day to hug and squeeze him until he suffocates from my physical affection.

Today was oddly productive - especially because I’m sick. I spent most of the day figuring out what I could do to be even more productive! Look at that. When you thought it was over, it wasn’t.

There’s still plenty more to do though, which I will prioritize since I do want boba for the rest of the year. My goal is to not get sucked into content and distractions that keep me from doing my work. That will get me no where in life. It’s truth.

Anyways, plenty of meetings tomorrow. It’ll be a fun time.

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twatkcox · 11 months

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[TWATKRant The 17th]

Trigger warning: Misotheism and a whole bunch of disturbing thoughts.

My life is bound to get even worse. No thanks to you all.

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The way things are going right now, I’m sure that my life is about to drastically change... in a not-so-good way. I may be able to enjoy my weekends once again, but I’m pretty anxious about the events I wanted to attend. On top of that, I don’t know if I’ll ever get to do mall-hopping trips again, considering that I have a hard time leaving the house nowadays. I feel compelled to say all of this, as I’m already at a crisis. I might even consider my life to be over right now, It feels like my life had just ended though I’m still breathing. I’m currently a walking hollow vessel, like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

Thirty-two years of age and I’m still living when I’m supposed to be... never mind, it’s just my pessimistic, emotionally unstable self speaking.

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These past few months haven’t been so kind to me. A bunch of upsetting things happened, and my depression is bound to get worse, up to the point where I’ll probably start taking meds. I’m anxious about my future, and I’m worried about my well-being. I’m emotionally unstable right now, and it’ll stay like that until the situation at home improves... if it will ever improve just like the pre-pandemic days.

I’m at risk of missing the fun things in life. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to enjoy my life the way it was before the pandemic. I’ve completely lose hope in everything. Right now, I’m still hanging, but one of these days, I might just lose my grip and lose everything, including my own life. I don’t know if I’m really prepared for it, but I try my best not to resort to such thinking.

Well, you see, I was browsing through Reddit (I’m planning to join that site one of these days), and came across some heartbreaking posts about people deciding that their lives are over, like deciding that their lives are over at 30. To be honest, I have empathy towards these people, as I was planning to end my life years before. In fact, my life should’ve ended on the day of my 30th birthday, but it would be extremely difficult for the ones I’ll be leaving behind. Maybe I’ll do this once everybody hates me. They’ll probably won’t care if I’m gone or something.

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Lately, I feel like God is practically mocking me by making me experience a whole bunch of [unnecessary] hardships that would impair my sanity. Are you kidding me? Maybe God did orchestrate the entire COVID-19 pandemic thing as a way to cripple the entire world. Maybe God intentionally wanted me to stop enjoying my life the way I want it. Heck, even God wanted me to experience a great deal of misery. God can help ease your burden, you say? That’s a lie. God is the reason why I suffered greatly in life. That’s why I stopped trusting and believing in him, and that I’d rather be a non-believer for the rest of my life. Heck, I can even be an atheist for all I care. But being a misotheist is a lot more better.

So if there really is a God, then why would he make things extremely difficult for some of us? It’s not like we did anything wrong, right? Why did he let this goddamn pandemic happen? Why did he let all kinds of atrocities happen? And most of all, how come that he always gives his life to the wrong people, instead of those who really need it, like the terminally-ill patients? If there’s a way to trade lives with the deserving ones, I would’ve done it by now.

That’s it. There’s no God, no savior, not even a single person I can really count on. I’m hopeless. I’m useless. I’m worthless. God made me like that, right? I sometimes think that I should just die in my sleep, now that’s a whole lot better than any other methods that are not only painful but also too extreme for anyone to do it.

Did I say all of these? Yes. And with no hesitance, I might just keep praying for it to happen. Unless, God would personally intervene and ask me to reconsider, and then make my life better. Now that I think about it, I imagine myself lying down in that wooden rectangular box wearing my black pajamas, a black shirt, and a pair of red socks. The thought of it really scares me. I don’t know if I’ll ever proceed with that ending-my-own-life thing.

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In case I’m still living despite my efforts to end it all, I’ll probably wear all black for the rest of my life. I ain’t gonna wear any other color, but I wonder if I could bend that rule just a little so I can either wear my red shirt and/or red socks. Even at the time when my life is filled with nothing but darkness, I still get to be fashionable. So typical of me.

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I suppose, this is where this dangerously disturbing rant ends. Besides, I’m starting to have intense headaches due to then extremely hot weather and bouts of anxiety and depression, plus some thoughts about my uncertain future. Also, my thoughts are clouded right now, so I might not be thinking right at the moment.

To be honest, my life is as miserable as hell. So why am I still living? Maybe someone could provide a bunch of answers? Maybe some mystery person (hopefully my future self) would come and reassure me that everything will be all right? Damn it. Makes me wish I would jump off the building or jump in front of a speeding train, only that I can’t bring myself to do these kinds of stuff. Now what?

I just hope I won’t actually resort to doing this. After all, it’s not like everything in this miserable world is bad anyway, am I right? Yeah, whatever.

#life crisis #misotheism #rant #thoughts #life is over #dark side of life #pessimism #my future

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sucktacular · 1 year

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Anyway I have my first therapy appt on Wednesday and I'm super nervous ... I know it's just intake before really getting into it all but like

Hhhh

I was doing so really really bad for months and months, like... Just not good at all without getting into it. It's been slowly getting worse and better and worse and better for the past few years since covid and everything changed

But like now this past week I've been doing a lot less terrible and I'm very anxious about like

Huhuhu I'm okay now I don't need this huhuhu I'm just wasting money and time I'll try again later :)))

When like I still have agoraphobia, I still don't function I'm still anxious to be around my house when ppl are home, I'm still not eating well, I'm still not right

I'm just

Really really anxious that I'll open something up in me and this good mood will slip away again

And I know this therapist has talked about like hey I recognize there are different levels of discomfort and I will guide us carefully and thoughtfully and if we get to an overly discomforting place I'll guide us back

But like I've also been to two different counselors (ah yes I know, I have so much experience!) and each time they made me either cry and riped open my wounds or I just got to the point where she was kinda putting words in my head and I felt so confused I just wanted to leave as fast as possible and then hung out in the secluded back waiting room trying to calm down by myself before leaving...

Idk I'm so very anxious of getting tripped up and falling back

But also like I know I need to deal with it all if I want to get anywhere better than I am. Where I am isn't sustainable, it's just a safe little hole in the ground I've dug out.

Idk it's times like these I feel like a huge faker. Like I don't actually have PTSD I don't actually have depression I'm just weird and anxious and like to lie and pretend I have problems!!! "My problems aren't that bad and it's weird that I am the way I am, dunno what that's about lol :))"

No matter how bad I feel no matter what, at the end of the day I look back and say, what a great act what a great show you preformed, bow and get off the stage!

I've been acting my whole life and these aren't traumas they're just things I latch onto and make it a defining character trait for my persona so that when ppl ask me why I'm anxious why I'm weird I can be like" oh here is my resume actually and here is every upsetting thing that ever happened to me. I'm valid I'm valid :) agreed? It makes sense yes? I'm glad my math makes sense to the masses :)"

And like the worst part is feeling that so deeply and then actively knowing, hey this is so very wrong and people don't think like this when they're healthy so I clearly have problems to work out so this isn't "not worth it" or "not the right time"

But it's just a vicious cycle of spiraling and picking thoughts and reasons and experiences and nonsense and at the end of it all the bad feelings are always stronger they always win.

I'll be honest but the diagnosises I've been given don't feel enough? And I'm sure I'm not the first person to feel like that and I know dealing with the things and symptoms like trauma and anxiety without having to name them clinically should probably be my focus but I feel so annoyed that if I said to someone 'hey my names Alex and I have PTSD and anxiety and dysthymia and adhd' it just doesn't feel like it is me enough... But also that's.. really embarrassing to say and cringe in the worst ways

Maybe it's part of the fucked up 'wanting worse things to happen to you' trauma parallels of wanting a bigger badder diagnosis so that I can be like THIS MAKES SENSE THIS IS WHAT I DEAL WITH when like I'm sure the labels I have, combined and intertwined, add up and make the math of my brain make sense but

Man it just doesn't add up it just doesn't make enough sense to me, maybe for the interview portion of my evaluation I was masked up too much maybe I didn't explain my thoughts and feelings enough or maybe it's real and they're the right labels and I'm just looking for a problem to obsess about

I can go in circles and circles about it all but I just don't feel right and I feel shifted and out of place in my skin and it feels eternal and never ending

Like being lost in a corn maze or something idk I've never been in one but it sounds like it'd suck

Can I just restart? Can I get a restart of my brain cuz I feel like tripping over my feet over and over and never falling down but never waking right

Feel well enough to be alive but scrunched up and icky enough that it's not functional

So anyway I'm very good at being normal and not weird all the time and I hope I get a good grade on being a person

#sucktacular sucks #negative #personal thoughts and ramblings about mental health and therapy

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lifeonhardmode · 1 year

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day 94

I’m trying to figure out why I’ve been feeling ambivalent or anxious or apathetic about his visit. What is wrong with me?

Theories:

it’s the time of the month when men and sex are utterly uninteresting to me. Can’t argue with that one, it happens every time.

I think I’ve fallen in love with my local boyfriend. He kind of drives me up the wall and I spend a lot of my time mildly mad at him or feeling emotionally and physically underwhelmed... none of that has changed. But for some reason I’ve been feeling more connected, more compatible, more tender toward him in the last month or so than I have in the last year and a half. Are these feelings crowding out my longstanding love for LDBF? Seems hard to believe. I didn’t think anything could compete with that passion. I haven’t told local BF about the visit and I’m wracked with anxiety about whether that’s the right choice. I really don’t want to hurt him, and I feel like he would be hurt if I told him and he would be hurt if he found out later.

I’ve been more annoyed with LDBF lately than I usually am. Normally nothing he does irritates me, I always understand where he’s coming from and I feel nothing but adoration for him. But IDK the last couple of months I’ve found myself irritated with him for various things. The fact that he critiques my outfits when I’m just trying to share a cute selfie... the fact that he tells my family stuff about my personal life so they know things even though they never reach out to me... the fact that he tells my family stuff about my work life so they have OpInIoNs about what I should be doing and most of them are not accurate to what I’m actually working on... I got really annoyed with him last night for insinuating that I would purposely or accidentally breed my pets, like I am a lot more intelligent and responsible than that. I’ve also been irritated the last couple of days because he wants to have long phone calls but he doesn’t want to do the talking, and I have covid so talking hurts. Like he gets to choose which days to chat, what time to chat, how long to chat, and he wants me to do the talking. (I fucking hate that he has sex with other people and doesn’t tell me about it and brought her to his family holidays. I hate that he’s so immodest with his friends or in public, seems like he’s half naked half the time. But IDK these are longstanding things so it shouldn’t be causing any new shift in feelings.) I was also REALLY FUCKING ANNOYED that he procrastinated on buying plane tickets for so long! This trip, now in April 2023, is procrastinated from a promised trip in July 2022, and he decided to come in April in like. November. And he just watched plane ticket prices increase and increase every day and never bought tickets. I was completely mystified. You have to buy tickets as soon as you decide. I offered to split the cost of the tickets and he said no. I offered to pay for the tickets and he said no. But still he refused to buy the tickets?! Really made me think that he didn’t want to come. He finally did but good god! I’ve always been the one to make the trip in the past and when it’s finally his turn suddenly he realizes what a pain it is?

I’m anxious because I haven’t achieved my 100 day goals. I’m not as fit as I wanted to be, I haven’t finished the side job project. I went back to read the last couple weeks of my blog before he came here last time, to see if I had any sort of cold feet or anxiety, but I didn’t, I was just working hard and excited.

I’m anxious about the actual visit. My apartment is too small to share with someone, I don’t know how we’re going to get along in such a tiny space, he eats soooo much and my kitchen is seriously tiny, and we have no plans so what are we even going to do?! Also he likes to snoop and I like my privacy, and I have no way to protect/hide my personal things if he’s going to be here in my studio apartment.

IDK I just feel boring and low energy and sex just doesn’t sound interesting. He’s going to expect it and I just have no interest right now. His penis is too big and he’s not vegan and those are two unattractive things. Most of the time my basic state is flirty and social, interested in being around people even if I don’t want to date them, but I’ve been feeling kind of bored/disgusted by most people who I previously enjoyed flirting with. Maybe it’s the covid.

I don’t know what it is, but just in the last week or so I’ve been feeling like I don’t want marriage (in general), which is so bizarre because my whole entire life I’ve wanted nothing but to be married, I dream of it I long for it, it’s so obviously superior to the single life, I would be so much more confident knowing I have someone on my team and someone to fall back on emotionally and financially, have someone to bounce ideas off of and be able to age gracefully knowing I am loved. Why then have I been feeling like I would rather just have my BF in another apartment and have my little apartment, and just have those separate? Maybe it’s just imagining marrying him in particular, since he doesn’t want kids and I don’t know if we would enjoy spending ALL our time together, and I don’t want to move farther away from my work because I love living close enough that I can walk home on my lunch breaks.

Maybe it’s just covid fucking with my head.

Procrastinating this one because I have a sneaking suspicion that it might be the real reason. I am deathly afraid of STIs and getting paps. I really really really really really wish he would use condoms with other people and I really really really really hate that he doesn’t, and it reeeeeeally bothered me when he only told me that halfway through our last visit and only because I asked, and sweet jesus I hope he’s all up to date on getting tested. It’s honestly a dealbreaker. I need to ask him but omg there’s only a week left, so he doesn’t have time to get an appointment if he doesn’t happen to be up to date. fuck me.

#day 94/100

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dinhxpressions · 2 years

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Amy Nguyen

1. Name, Year, Major My name is Amy Nguyen. I am a 3rd year double major in International Relations and East Asian Studies.

2. If you could eat a meal for the rest of your life, what would it be and why? I would eat pho for the rest of my life because I love soup and never really seem to get tired of it. Pho is one of the lighter options because the base is clear beef broth that contains a lot of collagen that is good for the skin. Pho also comes with a variety of toppings and protein choices, so I can spice it up anyway I want.

3. What do you think is the NUMBER ONE most important thing in a relationship or friendship? The most important thing in any relationship or friendship is trust. No need for explanation.

4. What is the best advice someone has given to you? Describe the situation if possible. My ERWC/AVID teacher from senior year of high school would always say “it is not your responsibility to make them happy.” This resonates with me because I had a habit of putting people’s needs before my own, which really drained me in high school as I was always worried about people not liking me. I learned that being a people-pleaser will get me nowhere in life because it will only create superficial relationships that will disappear when people feel like I’m no longer useful to them.

5. What are three things on your bucket list? The three things on my bucket list are: backpacking through Southeast Asia, buying a house in San Jose, and skydiving.

6. If you were famous, what would you want to be famous for? I would like to be famous for weird cooking recipes.

7. If you could swap lives with someone for a day, who would it be and why? I would swap lives with Woozi from Seventeen because I would get to listen to all the new tracks he is working on before he drops them. It would be cool to chill at his infamous studio and see how other people in the music industry interact with him on a daily basis. I want to feel some of the struggles he goes through have to be around a group of 12 weirdos all the time.

8. If you could create a whole new subject to be taught in school, what would it be? I would make Time Management a subject because barely anyone has their shit together. Procrastination be real.

9. What do people constantly misunderstand about you? I seem like I have my life together and am very sure about the future, but in reality, I am very anxious about life after college.

10. What is something you regret doing or not doing? Would you change it if given the opportunity? Why or why not? I really regret not using my time wisely during freshman year. I was still very reserved coming to Davis and had a very hard time making new friends. Part of the reason is that I never had to make new friends before coming to college. I kept my circle of friends small from elementary until the end of high school and thought that it was good enough for me. I was completely wrong as all of my friends decided to stay in San Jose for college and I was on my own moving to a new city all on my own. Being placed in an all girls pre-med dorm floor did not help me at all, as it made me, a humanities student, feeling like no one could relate to me. My schedule would just consist of classes 8AM to 12PM and napping the day away until dinner time. Covid strikes near the end of winter quarter and ended my freshman experience abruptly without a warning. If I were to go back in time, I would have forced myself to step out of my comfort zone sooner and joined some clubs or organizations to open up opportunities to meet people who I can safely rely on for support when need and give me the sense of community that I was searching for. I say this because I wish I had met all of these amazing people in APO early instead of waiting until my final year of college to commit. I would’ve felt a lot less lonely during all the lockdowns and online schooling.

#GlizzyGobblers #excomm

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awkward-teabag · 3 years

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I'm so exhausted and I don't think people realize just how bad British Columbia, Canada, is right now in regards to covid.

The provincial health office, Dr. Bonnie Henry, ignores science constantly, as does the deputy provincial health officer. They both claim masks/PPE are the last line of defense and not really effective.

They both refuse to acknowledge covid is airborne, instead saying it's droplets. Note that Henry was one of the lead public health responders in Toronto when SARS hit it and she also didn't believe/treat it as airborne. She also still holds onto the idea that SARS, MERS, H1N1, and now covid transmit in other ways rather than through the air.

They both think kids don't get sick from covid and don't transmit it which is why schools are open as normal, some classrooms don't have windows that open (or don't have windows at all), and they've decided against notifying schools or parents if a kid tested positive.

Contact tracing has been scaled back to the point it may as well not exist, which was fully intentional. They also don't consider friends or classmates close contacts thus won't notify them if someone they spent hours with in a room the other day tested positive.

Testing centres are being shut down en masse, the most infamous one was shut down and the following day it had a Spirit Halloween banner above the doors. There's also only 1 testing centre for 550,000+ people in one region of the Lower Mainland, a region that had the most cases in the second and third wave.

There are also no rapid testing kits available in-person or online (unless you have a spare $250+) despite there being over 2,000,000 sitting in a warehouse about to expire because Henry doesn't think they're accurate.

And the government controls access to testing in most areas and will bar you from getting tested unless you lie about your symptoms. Even then, there's a good chance you'll be told to go home and rest for a couple days to see if you feel better.

Vaccines are being pushed hard as the only thing needed and that if people have two shots, they don't need to wear masks. It was only recently the province even admitted breakthrough infections and hospitalizations were even a thing despite it being known for weeks/months elsewhere in the world.

Hospital capacities are over 100% with extreme staff shortages but Henry, Dix, and Gustafson still decided to get rid of nearly all restrictions.

N95 mask usage is being discouraged with the government saying only surgical masks are needed. Even nurses aren't allowed to use N95 masks or have proper PPE.

The government is no longer reporting on certain numbers and has been caught lying about and omitting numbers time and again thanks to brave individuals who leaked the actual documents and those who spend their days comparing multiple sources to find the actual number.

The government would also rather fire nurses and other healthcare workers despite all the shortages out there (3 nurses a shift when it was supposed to be 24, nurses working 24h/shift to have a modicum of coverage, nurses being mandated to not have breaks despite working 12-24h, etc) so healthcare workers are effectively muzzled.

Film and photography in hospitals is also not allowed.

Interactions with the press are done via phone calls that the government controls and reporters are limited to one question and one follow-up question.

And so much more.

People are dying in hospitals because there's not enough staff and people are having their surgeries canceled because there's not enough staff and/or ICU beds so people who could have survived now have a fatal inoperable illness and only months left to live.

If you think Alberta and Ontario are failing in their covid response, I beg you to look at BC's response and what those who live here are saying, especially those who are marginalized. Normally I would not suggest twitter, but the #bcpoli and #bced hashtags are full of people across the province who are suffering under the lack of covid response.

And no, these aren't elected officials. The office of the Provincial Health Officer is promoted, not elected. British Columbians had no say in who we wanted in charge of provincial health.

#canada #canpoli #cdnpoli #british columbia #bc #bcpoli #covid #politics #abpoli #onpoli #like i see Hinshaw and Tam and others say they were wrong and i'm JEALOUS #because that will never happen in BC #there have been multiple victory laps by DBH and the government for the past year #if you are anxious about covid you are wrong and the reason why things are where they are #that's only slightly paraphrased #and because testing is so limited #(as in you need government approval to get tested and their rec is #almost always to stay home for a day or two)#that means even less options and recourse for those who go on to develop #chronic conditions #speaking of testing if you test negative but die within the hour #you're marked as not having died from covid #basically when you see the numbers the government puts out #assume it's 2x-10x higher than is reported #i've also forgotten a bunch of stuff #because there's so much going wrong #and if you want to have a fun afternoon #look up the SARS report #and look up where the inquiry deemed the government failed #because every single one of those is failing in BC right now

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missmentelle · 3 years

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Why Smart People Believe Stupid Things

If you’ve been paying attention for the last couple of years, you might have noticed that the world has a bit of a misinformation problem.

The problem isn’t just with the recent election conspiracies, either. The last couple of years has brought us the rise (and occasionally fall) of misinformation-based movements like:

Sandy Hook conspiracies

Gamergate

Pizzagate

The MRA/incel/MGTOW movements

anti-vaxxers

flat-earthers

the birther movement

the Illuminati

climate change denial

Spygate

Holocaust denial

COVID-19 denial

5G panic

QAnon

But why do people believe this stuff?

It would be easy - too easy - to say that people fall for this stuff because they’re stupid. We all want to believe that smart people like us are immune from being taken in by deranged conspiracies. But it’s just not that simple. People from all walks of life are going down these rabbit holes - people with degrees and professional careers and rich lives have fallen for these theories, leaving their loved ones baffled. Decades-long relationships have splintered this year, as the number of people flocking to these conspiracies out of nowhere reaches a fever pitch.

So why do smart people start believing some incredibly stupid things? It’s because:

Our brains are built to identify patterns.

Our brains fucking love puzzles and patterns. This is a well-known phenomenon called apophenia, and at one point, it was probably helpful for our survival - the prehistoric human who noticed patterns in things like animal migration, plant life cycles and the movement of the stars was probably a lot more likely to survive than the human who couldn’t figure out how to use natural clues to navigate or find food.

The problem, though, is that we can’t really turn this off. Even when we’re presented with completely random data, we’ll see patterns. We see patterns in everything, even when there’s no pattern there. This is why people see Jesus in a burnt piece of toast or get superstitious about hockey playoffs or insist on always playing at a certain slot machine - our brains look for patterns in the constant barrage of random information in our daily lives, and insist that those patterns are really there, even when they’re completely imagined.

A lot of conspiracy theories have their roots in people making connections between things that aren’t really connected. The belief that “vaccines cause autism” was bolstered by the fact that the first recognizable symptoms of autism happen to appear at roughly the same time that children receive one of their rounds of childhood immunizations - the two things are completely unconnected, but our brains have a hard time letting go of the pattern they see there. Likewise, many people were quick to latch on to the fact that early maps of COVID infections were extremely similar to maps of 5G coverage - the fact that there’s a reasonable explanation for this (major cities are more likely to have both high COVID cases AND 5G networks) doesn’t change the fact that our brains just really, really want to see a connection there.

Our brains love proportionality.

Specifically, our brains like effects to be directly proportional to their causes - in other words, we like it when big events have big causes, and small causes only lead to small events. It’s uncomfortable for us when the reverse is true. And so anytime we feel like a “big” event (celebrity death, global pandemic, your precious child is diagnosed with autism) has a small or unsatisfying cause (car accident, pandemics just sort of happen every few decades, people just get autism sometimes), we sometimes feel the need to start looking around for the bigger, more sinister, “true” cause of that event.

Consider, for instance, the attempted assassination of Pope John Paul II. In 1981, Pope John Paul II was shot four times by a Turkish member of a known Italian paramilitary secret society who’d recently escaped from prison - on the surface, it seems like the sort of thing conspiracy theorists salivate over, seeing how it was an actual multinational conspiracy. But they never had much interest in the assassination attempt. Why? Because the Pope didn’t die. He recovered from his injuries and went right back to Pope-ing. The event didn’t have a serious outcome, and so people are content with the idea that one extremist carried it out. The death of Princess Diana, however, has been fertile ground for conspiracy theories; even though a woman dying in a car accident is less weird than a man being shot four times by a paid political assassin, her death has attracted more conspiracy theories because it had a bigger outcome. A princess dying in a car accident doesn’t feel big enough. It’s unsatisfying. We want such a monumentous moment in history to have a bigger, more interesting cause.

These theories prey on pre-existing fear and anger.

Are you a terrified new parent who wants the best for their child and feels anxious about having them injected with a substance you don’t totally understand? Congrats, you’re a prime target for the anti-vaccine movement. Are you a young white male who doesn’t like seeing more and more games aimed at women and minorities, and is worried that “your” gaming culture is being stolen from you? You might have been very interested in something called Gamergate. Are you a right-wing white person who worries that “your” country and way of life is being stolen by immigrants, non-Christians and coastal liberals? You’re going to love the “all left-wingers are Satantic pedo baby-eaters” messaging of QAnon.

Misinformation and conspiracy theories are often aimed strategically at the anxieties and fears that people are already experiencing. No one likes being told that their fears are insane or irrational; it’s not hard to see why people gravitate towards communities that say “yes, you were right all along, and everyone who told you that you were nuts to be worried about this is just a dumb sheep. We believe you, and we have evidence that you were right along, right here.” Fear is a powerful motivator, and you can make people believe and do some pretty extreme things if you just keep telling them “yes, that thing you’re afraid of is true, but also it’s way worse than you could have ever imagined.”

Real information is often complicated, hard to understand, and inherently unsatisfying.

The information that comes from the scientific community is often very frustrating for a layperson; we want science to have hard-and-fast answers, but it doesn’t. The closest you get to a straight answer is often “it depends” or “we don’t know, but we think X might be likely”. Understanding the results of a scientific study with any confidence requires knowing about sampling practices, error types, effect sizes, confidence intervals and publishing biases. Even asking a simple question like “is X bad for my child” will usually get you a complicated, uncertain answer - in most cases, it really just depends. Not understanding complex topics makes people afraid - it makes it hard to trust that they’re being given the right information, and that they’re making the right choices.

Conspiracy theories and misinformation, on the other hand, are often simple, and they are certain. Vaccines bad. Natural things good. 5G bad. Organic food good. The reason girls won’t date you isn’t a complex combination of your social skills, hygiene, appearance, projected values, personal circumstances, degree of extroversion, luck and life phase - girls won’t date you because feminism is bad, and if we got rid of feminism you’d have a girlfriend. The reason Donald Trump was an unpopular president wasn’t a complex combination of his public bigotry, lack of decorum, lack of qualifications, open incompetence, nepotism, corruption, loss of soft power, refusal to uphold the basic responsibilities of his position or his constant lying - they hated him because he was fighting a secret sex cult and they’re all in it.

Instead of making you feel stupid because you’re overwhelmed with complex information, expert opinions and uncertain advice, conspiracy theories make you feel smart - smarter, in fact, than everyone who doesn’t believe in them. And that’s a powerful thing for people living in a credential-heavy world.

Many conspiracy theories are unfalsifiable.

It is very difficult to prove a negative. If I tell you, for instance, that there’s no such thing as a purple swan, it would be very difficult for me to actually prove that to you - I could spend the rest of my life photographing swans and looking for swans and talking to people who know a lot about swans, and yet the slim possibility would still exist that there was a purple swan out there somewhere that I just hadn’t found yet. That’s why, in most circumstances, the burden of proof lies with the person making the extraordinary claim - if you tell me that purple swans exist, we should continue to assume that they don’t until you actually produce a purple swan.

Conspiracy theories, however, are built so that it’s nearly impossible to “prove” them wrong. Is there any proof that the world’s top-ranking politicians and celebrities are all in a giant child sex trafficking cult? No. But can you prove that they aren’t in a child sex-trafficking cult? No, not really. Even if I, again, spent the rest of my life investigating celebrities and following celebrities and talking to people who know celebrities, I still couldn’t definitely prove that this cult doesn’t exist - there’s always a chance that the specific celebrities I’ve investigated just aren’t in the cult (but other ones are!) or that they’re hiding evidence of the cult even better than we think. Lack of evidence for a conspiracy theory is always treated as more evidence for the theory - we can’t find anything because this goes even higher up than we think! They’re even more sophisticated at hiding this than we thought! People deeply entrenched in these theories don’t even realize that they are stuck in a circular loop where everything seems to prove their theory right - they just see a mountain of “evidence” for their side.

Our brains are very attached to information that we “learned” by ourselves.

Learning accurate information is not a particularly interactive or exciting experience. An expert or reliable source just presents the information to you in its entirety, you read or watch the information, and that’s the end of it. You can look for more information or look for clarification of something, but it’s a one-way street - the information is just laid out for you, you take what you need, end of story.

Conspiracy theories, on the other hand, almost never show their hand all at once. They drop little breadcrumbs of information that slowly lead you where they want you to go. This is why conspiracy theorists are forever telling you to “do your research” - they know that if they tell you everything at once, you won’t believe them. Instead, they want you to indoctrinate yourself slowly over time, by taking the little hints they give you and running off to find or invent evidence that matches that clue. If I tell you that celebrities often wear symbols that identify them as part of a cult and that you should “do your research” about it, you can absolutely find evidence that substantiates my claim - there are literally millions of photos of celebrities out there, and anyone who looks hard enough is guaranteed to find common shapes, poses and themes that might just mean something (they don’t - eyes and triangles are incredibly common design elements, and if I took enough pictures of you, I could also “prove” that you also clearly display symbols that signal you’re in the cult).

The fact that you “found” the evidence on your own, however, makes it more meaningful to you. We trust ourselves, and we trust that the patterns we uncover by ourselves are true. It doesn’t feel like you’re being fed misinformation - it feels like you’ve discovered an important truth that “they” didn’t want you to find, and you’ll hang onto that for dear life.

Older people have not learned to be media-literate in a digital world.

Fifty years ago, not just anyone could access popular media. All of this stuff had a huge barrier to entry - if you wanted to be on TV or be in the papers or have a radio show, you had to be a professional affiliated with a major media brand. Consumers didn’t have easy access to niche communities or alternative information - your sources of information were basically your local paper, the nightly news, and your morning radio show, and they all more or less agreed on the same set of facts. For decades, if it looked official and it appeared in print, you could probably trust that it was true.

Of course, we live in a very different world today - today, any asshole can accumulate an audience of millions, even if they have no credentials and nothing they say is actually true (like “The Food Babe”, a blogger with no credentials in medicine, nutrition, health sciences, biology or chemistry who peddles health misinformation to the 3 million people who visit her blog every month). It’s very tough for older people (and some younger people) to get their heads around the fact that it’s very easy to create an “official-looking” news source, and that they can’t necessarily trust everything they find on the internet. When you combine that with a tendency toward “clickbait headlines” that often misrepresent the information in the article, you have a generation struggling to determine who they can trust in a media landscape that doesn’t at all resemble the media landscape they once knew.

These beliefs become a part of someone’s identity.

A person doesn’t tell you that they believe in anti-vaxx information - they tell you that they ARE an anti-vaxxer. Likewise, people will tell you that they ARE a flat-earther, a birther, or a Gamergater. By design, these beliefs are not meant to be something you have a casual relationship with, like your opinion of pizza toppings or how much you trust local weather forecasts - they are meant to form a core part of your identity.

And once something becomes a core part of your identity, trying to make you stop believing it becomes almost impossible. Once we’ve formed an initial impression of something, facts just don’t change our minds. If you identify as an antivaxxer and I present evidence that disproves your beliefs, in your mind, I’m not correcting inaccurate information - I am launching a very personal attack against a core part of who you are. In fact, the more evidence I present, the more you will burrow down into your antivaxx beliefs, more confident than ever that you are right. Admitting that you are wrong about something that is important to you is painful, and your brain would prefer to simply deflect conflicting information rather than subject you to that pain.

We can see this at work with something called the confirmation bias. Simply put, once we believe something, our brains hold on to all evidence that that belief is true, and ignore evidence that it’s false. If I show you 100 articles that disprove your pet theory and 3 articles that confirm it, you’ll cling to those 3 articles and forget about the rest. Even if I show you nothing but articles that disprove your theory, you’ll likely go through them and pick out any ambiguous or conflicting information as evidence for “your side”, even if the conclusion of the article shows that you are wrong - our brains simply care about feeling right more than they care about what is actually true.

There is a strong community aspect to these theories.

There is no one quite as supportive or as understanding as a conspiracy theorist - provided, of course, that you believe in the same conspiracy theories that they do. People who start looking into these conspiracy theories are told that they aren’t crazy, and that their fears are totally valid. They’re told that the people in their lives who doubted them were just brainwashed sheep, but that they’ve finally found a community of people who get where they’re coming from. Whenever they report back to the group with the “evidence” they’ve found or the new elaborations on the conspiracy theory that they’ve been thinking of (“what if it’s even worse than we thought??”), they are given praise for their valuable contributions. These conspiracy groups often become important parts of people’s social networks - they can spend hours every day talking with like-minded people from these communities and sharing their ideas.

Of course, the flipside of this is that anyone who starts to doubt or move away from the conspiracy immediately loses that community and social support. People who have broken away from antivaxx and QAnon often say that the hardest part of leaving was losing the community and friendships they’d built - not necessarily giving up on the theory itself. Many people are rejected by their real-life friends and family once they start to get entrenched in conspiracy theories; the friendships they build online in the course of researching these theories often become the only social supports they have left, and losing those supports means having no one to turn to at all. This is by design - the threat of losing your community has kept people trapped in abusive religious sects and cults for as long as those things have existed.

#missmentelle #askmissmentelle #conspiracy theories #cults #psychology #science #neuroscience

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labelma · 3 years

Text

all the pain of yesterday

Read on Ao3

When the call comes, it’s a surprise.

Maybe it shouldn’t be, but it is.

“Hello, is this Fiona Gallagher?”

Somehow, Fiona just knows. She doesn’t know how or why, but...

“Yes this is her.”

The woman’s voice is soft, but clear, there’s quiet murmur in the background, it reminds Fiona of every time she got a call from the police station, the hospital, the school. For a moment, she feels like she’s 21 again, scared, alone, at her wit’s end, trying to hold everything together, scraping by with the skin of her teeth, always one wrong step from a catastrophe.

There is a split second of silence where Fiona knows this is it. Whatever the woman has to say- there’s no going back from it, as soon as the silence breaks. And it does.

“This is Brenda at Kindred Hospital South, your father Frank Gallagher was brought in experiencing hypoxia, disorientation and a high fever,”

This is it

“We regret to inform you that we did-“

This is how it happens

“Everything we could-“

Fiona’s blood runs cold,

“But your father passed away this evening at 8:46 from complications due to Covid-19.”

She knew it was coming. They all did. Frank had been dancing with death for years, how he had even managed to hold on for so long was beyond her.

It seemed that Frank’s luck had finally run dry.

“Would you like to make arrangements? If not we would be happy to help…”

Fiona isn’t listening. She tells the nurse to do whatever they need to do before hanging up.

She surprises herself when she feels tears prick the corners of her eyes, and she clenches her jaw. They won’t fall. She won’t cry over Frank. Not anymore. Not ever.

She takes a moment for herself, a moment to breath, a moment to consider the fact that she’s now lost both her parents, even if she lost them both years ago to drugs, to the bottle, to insanity.

She takes the briefest moment to grieve what could have been before stopping herself.

What’s done is done.

Her parents made their decisions, and she made hers.

Fiona thinks that at least now Frank and Monica will get to make each other miserable for eternity while they’re burning in the deepest pits of hell.

Or was it freezing?

Fiona never paid much attention in church anyway, on those rare occasions they went, usually to sneak bills from the collections plate.

Phone in her hand, screen still on from the phone call, Fiona realizes she doesn’t know what the next steps are.

Her instinct is to hop on the L, deal with the situation as it comes, never planning, never even able to plan because of the speed at which things fell apart. Her instinct is to go grab Frank from whatever shithole situation he got himself in, and slap some sense into him.

But obviously, Fiona couldn’t hop on the L, she was standing in the middle of the street in Chula Vista, California. Gone were the days of running into burning buildings with no forethought. Fiona had her life together. She had a serious job. She wasn’t busy juggling teens and pre-teens anymore.

And of course, there was no Frank to slap sense into anymore.

An odd pang twisted Fiona’s stomach at the thought.

She’s brought back to the presence when someone stumbles into her from behind,

“Perdóneme,”

The woman doesn’t look much older than she is, and she’s busy pushing a stroller with one hand, pulling a toddler along with the other.

Fiona sighs.

It’s time to face the music.

She calls her kids.

<hr>

Arrangements are made. Fiona honestly has very little say in them.

Frank wanted to be cremated, his family didn’t give nearly a big enough shit to make it fancy.

He had no possessions of value, nothing to give to his kids other than stained furniture, empty bottles, and trauma.

Really, Fiona is coming back for Liam.

Fiona was the guinea pig. The oldest daughter, the one who had no one except a wino father and batshit crazy mother to look after her.

Lip and Ian, born so close together, both so resilient, but still so so young when they first learned the hard way of Frank’s negligence.

Debbie and Carl, young enough to remember the times before Fiona dropped out of high school and made being a mother to her siblings a full time job. Old enough to remember all the times Frank stole their money, ruined their creations, hurt their very fragile childish feelings.

But Liam?

Liam never lived in a world where he had to be raised by Frank of Monica Gallagher.

And Fiona knows that she wasn’t the best guardian either. She knows that she abandoned him, even though she was the only mother he’d ever known. She knows that she’s done worse things.

But even when she fucked up, Lip was there to pick it up. And Ian behind him. And now Debbie and Carl are adults too. Liam would be just fine without her in the long run.

But still. Liam had the good fortune to be born last, young enough to be raised by his siblings, to never feel the sting of abuse and neglect the way the oldest five always had.

And Frank had always loved Liam, loved him so much. Liam was so kind, maybe even too kind. He loved Frank back, even though they all knew Frank was not deserving of such care from his youngest son.

So Fiona knew, knew it like she knew herself, that Liam, of all the Gallaghers, was going to be the most devastated.

And well, she missed her other kids too.

She hadn’t seen Franny far too long, hadn’t even met Fred. She missed Ian’s wedding, Carl’s graduation from the academy.

She’d stayed up to date of course, speaking with her siblings on the phone, FaceTiming to see her nieces and nephews, but she knew what it was like in Chicago. If you weren’t there you may as well not exist.

Fiona liked it that way.

When her plane had arrived at the San Diego International Airport all those years ago, she almost had a panic attack, nearly booked the next flight back to Chicago.

It had gotten easier with time.

For her entire life she’d been so tied to the little house on Wallace, she didn’t know who she was without it.

It was time to find out.

And she did.

She did find out, she found out what she was capable of, she found out how successful she could be, she found out who she was without living her life for her siblings.

Not that she would ever hold it against them but… She did what she could. It was time for her to live her own life now.

And for those very reasons, she was terrified of going back to Chicago.

She was terrified that all the progress, everything she built, all that she’d become, was nothing more than smoke and mist, ready to blow away the minute she arrived in the Windy City.

Which is why she never visited when Fred was born, or considered flying in to meet him.

Which is why when she received the surprisingly tasteful wedding invitation to Ian and Mickey Milkovich’s wedding, she regretfully declined.

She was so scared.

So scared she would go back and never be able to leave again.

But some of the fear had worn off over the months.

Her new life felt less like smoke, and more like a healthy young tree, still growing, but strong enough to weather a storm.

It was time to return.

<hr>

The plane ride feels oddly unceremonious for how anxious Fiona feels.

She watches as the Southern California coast line disappears from sight as the plane flies eastward, and wonders how she’ll be received when she arrives.

She doesn’t tell the kids she’s coming for a visit, worried they’ll make a big deal out of it, or worse, do nothing at all.

Chicago is exactly like she remembers it, and yet nothing like it used to be. Still dirty, windy, freezing, especially after her years spent in the San Diegan sun, but dotted with new boutiques, nicer buildings, fences that don’t look like they’re about to crumble into a pile of dust.

She has to fight to control her breathing in the Uber back to the old Gallagher house.

The sight of the sun setting over the familiar buildings of the South Side makes her feel something unidentifiable.

The house looks much the same as always, if not just a bit nicer due to Lip’s efforts to fix it up.

She hesitates for just a moment at the front door before turning the handle and walking in, refusing to give in to her doubts.

The TV is on, as usual. Debbie sits texting on the couch while Franny, much bigger than the last time Fiona saw her lounges on the couch engrossed in the colorful TV show, Carl next to her, also engrossed in the show.

She hears banging in the kitchen, and she walks towards it to find Lip hammering at the shelving unit, Tami preoccupied with hushing Fred, while Ian and Mickey sit at the kitchen table passing a beer back and forth, talking quietly.

Fiona is only a little surprised that she hasn’t been noticed yet. She’s quieter than she used to be, and each one of her siblings seems to be in their own little worlds.

It’s Liam who sees her first as he walks down the stairs, eyes red, looking tired, though his face lights up as soon as his eyes fall on her.

“Fiona!”

He runs into her arms, and the tears Fiona has been managing to hold back for days finally fall. She holds her youngest brother, and breathes in the familiar smell of his hair.

Liam’s shout alerts the rest of the family to her presence, and for a few minutes Fiona is wrapped in hug after hug, feeling laughter bubbling up in her chest.

It strikes her that even after so long away, she can still read her siblings like a book.

Lip is tense, she can feel it in the way he hugs her, in the hard set of his features, though Tami seems happy enough.

Carl and Debbie are both distracted, though the days where she could tell what kind of things they’d be distracted by are long gone.

Ian looks lighter, happier than she’s ever seen him, and for the smallest moment, she worries that Frank’s death may have thrown him into a manic episode before she notices the way Mickey has his hand firmly planted on his shoulder, and though Fiona was never quite able to trust him in the past, she thinks she does now.

She holds Franny against her hip, marveling at how heavy she is, while Liam entwines his fingers with hers.

Fiona gets the sense that she’s missed so much, and yet nothing at all, everyone falling into their familiar roles.

They settle in with coffee to catch up, Fiona hanging on every word, desperate to soak up everything she’s missed.

Lip decided not to sell the house in the end, figuring that the value in owning property was worth more than a quick payout which would disappear quicker that you’d think.

With Ian and Mickey in a new apartment and Frank… gone, the house was quieter, less crowded, a better place to raise two kids, at least until Lip and Tami could afford to move out.

Debbie had sworn off dating, saying she was sick of dating psycho chicks. Fiona laughs along with her and agrees, dating hasn’t been so kind to her either, but she suspects that Debbie will change her tune when the next person willing to go down on her comes along. She shares that same trait with Debbie, something she’s been trying to work on as she gets older and realizes how fucked up her habits and coping mechanisms are.

Liam is grieving, and Fiona’s heart aches for him. She cups her hands around his sallow cheeks and as she kisses his face and celebrates when he brushes her off, an embarrassed smile turning up his lips. She knows this is hard on him, Liam being the only Gallagher who truly still cared for Frank in more than just an offhand obligatory way. But she also knows that the hurt will wear off eventually as grief tends to do. Liam is young still, with so so much potential and such a bright future ahead of him. She’s not worried, even if she feels bad for leaving him.

She tells Liam that before she leaves she’s going to help get him into a good private school.

He deserves the opportunities none of his older siblings ever had.

Carl is still Carl, even if he’s trying to be a fine upstanding citizen. Still, she’s so proud he really seems to have made something of himself, even landing a stable union job.

Ian is happy, so happy, and Fiona lets his infectious joy wash over her. There was a time when Fiona worried for him. Worried he was doomed like Monica. She knew that stats, knew how hard it was for people with bipolar disorder to manage stable relationships, knew the Gallagher history was full of divorces and scorned exes, many of them hers, even without the added bonus of mental illness. When Ian was arrested and sentenced to three to five years in prison, she thought that was the end of any hope he had for a happy ending.

She’s glad she was wrong.

She can’t say she’s surprised by the reappearance of Mickey Milkovich in their lives, Mexico and prison be damned. Fiona doubted many things about Mickey, doubted his trustworthiness, doubted his intentions, doubted his stability, and all for good reason in her opinion. But one thing she never doubted was his love for her brother. Well, maybe there were times she doubted it a little, but she’s a cynical person.

She thinks that Ian and Mickey have the best relationship of any of the Gallaghers, a reality she would have laughed at 5 years ago, but it’s true.

She hopes that one day she can replicate their success, but she isn’t counting on it.

Right now she’s just working on learning to accept herself, and all her flaws.

It’s a process, but she’s getting there.

<hr>

Ultimately they decide not to hold a real funeral for Frank, not caring enough to plan one, and thinking Frank probably wouldn’t even want one.

Instead they congregate in the alley, joined by Kev and V as well as Tommy and Kermit, behind The Alibi to dump his ashes.

They aren’t so ceremonial, though Liam, with tears on his face does insist on saying a few words.

The whole ordeal takes no more than ten minutes, and when it’s over, Fiona feels like she can finally breathe.

Her entire life she was burdened with being her father’s daughter, living under his metaphorical shadow, even when she moved as far away as she could.

He haunted her every time she had a beer, every time she felt guilt creep in for leaving, every time she felt close to snapping at her new job.

But now Fiona thinks she can finally let it go, let Frank go, along with all her demons.

The flight back to feels shorter, or maybe Fiona just feels lighter. Somewhere along the way she stopped seeing Chicago as home, and finds herself eager for San Diego with its sun, beaches, and mountains. Her new home is her little apartment in Chula Vista, so close to Mexico she can cross the border whenever she wants, with her new friends, a new job, and a tan for the first time in her life.

She isn’t worried about her siblings. Lip is building a life for his new family, Ian is happily married to the love of his life, Debbie is learning and growing, trying to be a good mom to her daughter, Carl has a stable job he loves despite all odds, and Liam is the smartest and most resourceful of all of them.

They’re going to be just fine.

And so will she.

#shameless #Fiona Gallagher #gallavich #Ian Gallagher #mickey milkovich #my fic

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janeyseymour · 3 years

Text

It’s Not What You Think

Katherine finds some papers in Jane's room that worry her. It turns out that what she finds isn't what she thought.

Hi loves! This idea has floated around in my head for a little bit, and I finally got around to writing it (Thank goodness for spring break!)

TW// ideas of suicidal thoughts (although not explicit, just alluding to them)

On that note, I do hope that you all have a lovely day!

WC: 4697

“Guys, look at what I just found in Mum’s room,” Katherine called out in a panic from the third queen’s bedroom. The other four queens quickly made their way into Jane’s room.

“Where is Janey anyway?” Anne asked. “Why are you snooping in her stuff? I know you aren’t trying to find blackmail on her.”

“No, no,” Katherine waved her hands frantically. “I was just trying to do her a favor. You know, she’s always cleaning the house up, so I thought I would do her a favor and clean up her room. Well, this one notebook was open, and I couldn’t help but glance at what was written on the page it was open to. I’m worried about her.” She gestured to the notebook wildly.

Anne, ever the nosy one, was the one to grab the book and began to read out loud.

Queens,

I think that my time on this earth for the second time is coming to an end. I don't know if I’m going to survive this, but if I don’t, I don’t want to leave you with the idea that my heart was not with you guys. It will always be with you all, no matter where I am. On each page after this one, I will address each one of you individually, but know that you six are my heart and my soul. I can only hope that if I do pass, I hope you keep the little legacy that I have alive. Know that you are all strong and powerful women, and I’ll be watching you from above. All my love goes out to you, and I am so grateful for the family we have become. I cannot wait to see you loves again.

All my love,

Janey

To Catherine-

“What the hell?” Anne snapped, her eyes meeting a teary eyed Catherine of Aragon.

“Surely this isn’t what we think it is. There has to be some sort of explanation to this.

There has to be,” the gold queen reasoned. “There’s no way this is what we think it is.”

“How do we even approach this?” Cleves questioned. “Even if Seymour was, you know,”

she trailed off slightly. “She wouldn’t just outright admit it to us.”

“There’s got to be another reason for this. We just have to ask her,” Cathy spoke clearly,

often the voice of reason in the house when Jane wasn’t around.

The blonde, blissfully unaware of the situation, had gone out alone to buy groceries.

When the others realized that this was one of the rare times that the silver queen hadn’t asked any of them to go with her, a tension in the room had built up.

“I’m just going to call her and see when she’s coming home.” Kat opened her contacts and scrolled to Jane- “Mum” it read. She pressed the call button and waited with baited breath, hoping the third queen would answer.

“Hi love!” Jane’s cheerful voice rang through once the line had connected. “Did you need me?”

“I was just wondering when you were coming home?” Kat tried to hide the shaking in her voice.

“Are you okay? Did something happen? Oh god, tell me Anne didn’t try to cook again. I’ll be home as soon as possible,” the third monarch’s voice rose in pitch as she began to ponder what could have prompted this phone call from her daughter.

“No, I just wanted to know when you were coming home. You’ve been out a while.”

“I’ll be home soon dear. I just have to hunt down a few more items on the list, and then I’ll be on my way back to make dinner.”

“Promise?” the fifth queen blurted out before she could stop herself.

“Do I promise that I’m coming home to make dinner?” Jane was confused. Why on Earth would she not come home?

“Mhmm.” It was hard to ignore the fact that Katherine had almost sounded like a child, uncertain of something.

“Of course I promise love. Are you sure you’re alright?” Jane’s tone became softer, and her pace in the grocery store quickened.

“I, uh, yeah. I just got worried. Like I said, you’ve been out a while. I’ve missed having you around the house today.”

“I’m sorry honey. I’ll be home soon, I promise you.”

“Okay,” Kat’s voice became a bit lighter at the confirmation that Jane would in fact be home that night. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

“You aren’t bothering me love. I’ve missed you today too. I’ll be home soon, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too Mum.” Kat hung up and informed the others that Jane was, in fact, alright and would be returning back shortly.

“What the hell?” Jane muttered to herself after she hung up with the pink haired queen. Why on Earth had Kat been so concerned that she might not return home that night? She stopped in the middle of the aisle she was in to send a text to Catherine.

[To Lina: Kat just called me and sounded like something was rattling her. Think you could see if you could comfort her at all?]

“Jane just texted me regarding your phone call. She knows something is up,” Catalina sighed.

When the third queen walked through the door, she barely had time to put down the groceries in her hands before the fifth queen had tackled her in a hug.

“Mum,” Katherine sighed into the blonde’s cardigan.

“Hi love,” Jane wrapped her arms around the younger queen. “Not that I’m not loving the greeting I just got, but what’s going on? Are you alright dear?”

“I’m a lot better now that you’re home.” Kat made no moves to let go of the older woman.

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy I’m home. Do you think you could help me with the groceries? And then while I’m making dinner, you’re more than welcome to help out or keep me company.”

Katherine Howard hadn’t left Jane Seymour’s side since the older monarch had gotten home. The only time they had been apart since she had gotten home was the few moments where Jane excused herself to go to the bathroom. Throughout dinner, the others kept giving their motherly queen concerned glances that she was clearly picking up on, but no one would say why. What the hell had happened while she was gone for a few short hours to pick up groceries?

“Katherine dear, tell me what’s going on in that sweet head of yours,” Jane muted the television show that the two were watching and faced the younger woman.

“It’s just been a weird day for me, and I missed you. You comfort me in a way that the others can't. I just needed some Mum Janey warmth, you know?” the third queen nodded and settled back into her position.

After some time, it was apparent that the fifth queen was entranced with whatever program had been on- Jane hadn’t really been paying attention. Instead her attention was on the younger woman tucked into her side. How she wished she could read the pinked haired queen’s mind to ease whatever was making her Katherine so anxious. Shuffling over a little, she pulled her phone from her pocket.

[To Lina: Do you have a minute to chat?]

[From Lina: Yeah. Do you want to come up to my room or should I come down?]

[To Lina: I’ll come up.]

“Love? Lina just asked me for some help in her room. Will you be alright if I leave you here for a bit? I can always ask Anne to come sit with you if you’d like? Or Anna?” She knew those two also had a way of keeping the fifth queen from feeling overwhelmed (well, sometimes. Everyone knew that it really did depend on the situation- sometimes they were calming, and sometimes they were the ones making everyone feel overwhelmed with their chaos).

“I’ll be okay.” Kat’s eyes stayed glued to the television screen. Jane nodded and made her way up to the yellow room.

“Okay, I’m going to be upfront here because I’m genuinely worried about what’s wrong with my daughter,” Jane rushed out, wasting no time. She was determined to be back downstairs and on the couch with the youngest queen as quickly as possible.

“The question is Jane: Are you alright?” Catherine’s expression was different than it usually was. The face that was usually so stoic expressed genuine concern. The voice that never wavered no matter what- Jane could hear a slight quiver in her voice, brokenness and concern evident.

“Why would I not be?” Jane tried not to sound defensive.

The gold queen stood from her bed and closed the door quietly before embracing the blonde. “Listen, it’s okay to admit that you’re going through a hard time, but ending it won’t-”

“What on God’s green Earth are you talking about?” Jane pulled away from the hispanic just enough to look her in the eyes.

“Oh thank god,” Catherine breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank god for what?” Jane asked incredulously. Why was everyone walking on eggshells with her?

“Promise you won’t be mad.”

“Well, now I’m really concerned. What did you all do that would upset me?” When Catherine took hold of Jane’s hand and led her to the grey bedroom, it was clear to the blonde someone had been in her room.

“Kat was trying to be nice and help clean your room for you since you’re always doing so much around the house, and-”

Jane interrupted her friend, “-Why would I be mad about that? That’s so kind of her.”

“She found this.” Catalina took the notebook with her letters out. Jane looked at her confused, so the first queen continued. “We’re worried about you Jane.”

The third queen read over what she had written, but she was confused as to why it would be alarming to her friends. Sometimes, she could be a bit dense, but none of them thought she could be this oblivious.

“I don’t see why you’re concerned?”

“Jane, are you planning on... you know?” And then it clicked in the silver queen’s head. They thought these were...

“Oh!” Jane’s hand flew to her mouth in realization. “Oh heavens no. Oh my gosh no! I’m so content with my life! I would never dream of doing such a thing! This isn’t what you think.”

“Please tell me why you wrote these. Please,” Catherine pleaded. “And be honest. Please.”

“Do you remember those two weeks where I told you all I had to quarantine because I had Covid before everything shut down?”

“You didn’t have Covid, did you?”

Jane had woken up that morning feeling strange. A dull pain in her stomach was there, but she chose to ignore it. She had a family to take care of and a show to put on that night. As the day went on though, the pain never subsided. In fact, it only got worse. She pushed the pain down though. The best way to not throw herself into a panic attack over an aching stomach was to simply ignore it, or at least attempt to. It was best not to worry about something that would quickly go away, or so she had thought.

That night, the show went on. With every movement, the blonde had to conceal her winces and the movement that was required of her only made the pain worse. “Heart of Stone” was a mess in itself. The required breath control she needed was enough to make her tear up with every deep breath she took before allowing the melody to dance its way into others’ hearts. As she sang the song, she listened to the words she was singing. It was as if the lyrics were meaning something different to her tonight- she might have to go soon if this pain continued. Surely, she wouldn’t want to alarm the girls, but she knew she had to go to the hospital after the show.

To anyone watching this performance, Jane’s performance of her song alone was absolutely stellar. The tears flowed freely. What people thought was the blonde’s beautiful storytelling and emotion over her son was in fact the third queen’s pain that she had been attempting to conceal for the past however many hours finally coursing through her body. She was able to release it there under disguise. It took her a few seconds longer to regain herself once her song ended, not quite ready to endure the pain of the second half of the show.

Seymour was never the first off the stage. That night though, she was. It didn’t take long for the others to notice that something was amiss with their friend.

“Seymour?” Jane looked to the fourth queen. “You good?” She nodded.

“I’m alright. I’m not feeling too well at the moment, but I’ll be okay.” She replaced the pained look on her face that had betrayed her with a more neutral expression.

“You better not have Covid,” Anna joked. Jane considered what her successor had just said: that was her way out.

It was an early night for each of the queens. Show days were always early nights, especially when they had another show the next day. Once everyone had settled in for the night, Jane took a notebook out. The pain in her side was unbearable, reminding her of the way she had felt in the last moments of her last life. If she was going to die a second time, it would only make sense that she would die in a similar way to her first life: painful stomach infections. She would write out a message to each of her queens, letting them know just how much she loved each and every one of them- hoping to pass time and ensure that all the other women in the house were asleep before she would make a trip to the hospital.

Queens,

All my love,

Janey

To Catherine- Where do I even begin to start this? You are my absolute best friend. I cherish each and every moment we have made together, both in this life and our past. You are truly a wonderful, wonderful human being that I am so blessed to have gotten to know over the past years, and I can not wait to see where you go in this life (because you know for a fact I will be watching our family from above). Without you, I’m not sure I would’ve grown into the woman I became. You instilled so much love and heart into me- and without you I don’t think I ever would’ve broken out of my shell. I would’ve stayed the mild mannered yet somewhat bitter woman I was. I never would’ve had the chance to connect with Katherine. If my time on this earth truly has come to an end, please love that girl. Love all of the girls. Love yourself. Stay you Catalina. You have a heart of gold. I love you more than you’ll ever know.

To Anne- Oh Anne, you crazy, crazy woman who I have come to love like a sister. Thank you for bringing so much energy and sunshine into my life (along with the many messes that I’ve had to clean up, both literally and figuratively). You are such a ball of energy with a heart that is like no other. I cannot thank you enough for our time together. I know that we’ve had our differences, but dammit if we didn’t shove it in the universe’s face and come out of it on the other side as friends... no, sisters... Thank you for being the kind, caring, compassionate woman that you are. I cannot wait to see what else you have to do in this life. I’ll be watching. Please do your best to not get arrested when I’m gone though... I have a feeling that I’m the only one who would bail you out of jail at 3 in the morning because of public urination. I love you oh so much.

To Anna- Cleves. Cleves. Cleves. You truly are a one of a kind human being. Know that even though you have always been the complete opposite of me (tall, tough, a boss ass bitch- you know) I have always looked up to you and your ability to be one of the kindest people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. Stay you and keep on loving yourself and the girls. I hope you know how dearly I love you.

To Cathy- Oh Cathy Parr, where would I be without you? Certainly, I wouldn’t have been able to write all of these letters, although I do wish my showing off my writing skills would’ve been under better circumstances. Thank you for being the beautiful and kindhearted person that you are. Keep using your voice to empower everyone around you. All that you’ve done up to this point has made me so incredibly proud of you, and I know that when I’m watching you from above, you will only continue to do so. Gold star for you Cathy Parr. I love you oh so much.

And to my Kat- Katherine, I hope you know just how much I love you. You truly are the most earnest and loving young woman I’ve ever met, and I am so thankful for the time that we’ve had together. We met under the strangest circumstances, and if anybody had told me I would slowly adopt a nineteen year old when we first came back, I would have thought they were crazy. But my heavens, I wouldn't change what we have for the world. I know if you are reading this, I’ve passed, and I can only hope you know that I’m watching you from above. All you did on Earth up until the point of my leaving made me so incredibly proud- growing from the shy and quiet Katherine Howard into this... elegant and kind hearted, passionate and outspoken Katherine Seymour. It truly was magical to watch. Continue to make me proud, love. I know you will. I love you with my everything sweet one.

The blonde closed the notebook and laid it on her pillow before she carefully snuck down the steps as quickly as she could. Glancing at the clock, it was only about 11:30 at night. If her health was on her side, she would be back in time for the girls to not know she had been anywhere in the first place.

“So you didn’t have Covid?” Catherine interrupted Jane’s story. Jane only shook her head before continuing.

By the time she had gotten to the hospital, she could barely support herself. If she had made it through an entire 80 minute cardio routine, she could muster up the strength to walk into the hospital. How wrong she had been. About five steps into the walk, the blonde’s nearly legs gave out, the pain overtaking her body. Never one to give up though, she struggled her way into the emergency room, startling the woman at the desk.

“Stomach, killing me,” Jane breathed out. “Please help.”

“Appendicitis is a tricky one. You’re lucky you came in when you did. Another hour or so, and it would’ve burst,” a doctor informed the third queen after she had woken up from her appendectomy.

“How long until I can go back to my usual routine?” Jane asked in a bored manner. “I do have a show to be in.”

“Should be about two weeks.”

“When can I leave this place?” The silver queen felt bad for treating the doctor in a rude manner, but if she could avoid having the others fuss over her while she recovered by being back home before they could even be aware she was gone, she would.

“You should be able to leave relatively soon seeing that you’re already awake and seem to be reacting normally to the medicine. Just need someone to pick you up.”

“Bloody hell,” Jane muttered to herself. How was she going to get around this one?

Jane had gotten into the taxi that was supposedly going to take her home, but before the driver could pull away, she slipped him the money she would owe him and requested that he drive around the block before dropping her back off here.

“That’s an odd request.”

“Just can’t have the doctors knowing I’m going to drive myself home.”

“Ma’am, don’t you think you should follow doctors’ orders and not drive home if-”

“-I live literally two blocks away. I just need to get my car back home without raising any questions from my housemates.”

Jane had arrived home just as the others were getting up. Putting a mask on, she entered the house and tried to ignore the pain where her appendix had just been removed.

“Mum!” Katherine smiled. “Where were you?” She began to get up from her spot on the couch, but Jane stopped her quickly.

“I was feeling a little ill yesterday, so I made an appointment to get tested for Covid. I have it. I’ve got to quarantine for two weeks.”

“Oh my god,” Catherine breathed out. “Are you alright?”

“I’m alright. Just a bit short of breath, and my head hurts. I’m heading up to my room for the next two weeks. If you need me, feel free to call or text me. I’ll try to order groceries and things like that to be delivered here later in the week. Text me the things we need. Just stay away from my room. I’d rather none of you get sick.” The others wished her well and set out to call the managers of the show. Surely, they would have to cancel the next two weeks of performances.

The third queen truly felt guilty lying to her family, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to tell them the real reason she wouldn’t be able to be in the show for the next two weeks. In reality, the blonde had done them a favor: their managers would all end up with Covid the next week. The queens would stay Covid free.

“Jane Seymour are you bloody kidding me?” The younger monarch shook her head. “You had a near death experience, and instead of telling any of us about it, you wrote letters to us in case you died?”

Now that the silver queen was hearing what had transpired, she felt a bit silly.

“I’m sorry. I just-”

“We would’ve been there for you! You didn’t have to hide that from us! God, you really are unbelievable sometimes!” Although there was annoyance in her voice, Catherine hadn’t made any moves to release Jane from the hug she was holding her in.

“I just didn’t want to inconvenience you all.” Jane shrugged her shoulders. “Our show would’ve gotten canceled for the next however long we were closed after the mandatory shutdown happened anyway. And our managers ended up getting Covid, so really... Maybe I saved us from getting Covid?”

“Well, you might have, but for God’s sake Jane, why wouldn’t you tell any of us? You know we would’ve been more than happy to help out!”

“Well, yeah. I know that. I just,” the third queen paused to try to figure out how to articulate her feelings. “I’m supposed to be the mother of the household. It would feel weird to have had you guys helping me out as opposed to the other way around?”

“Honey, we helped you out anyway. We had to bring your food to your room, all that stuff,” Catherine countered.

“Yeah,” Jane drew out. “I didn’t want you guys to see me as weak though.”

“Weak?”

“Yeah. Like, I had succumbed to yet another stomach infection.”

“You couldn’t help that?” The first queen stared at her incredulously. Her best friend really could be dense sometimes- thinking they would find her weak for not being able to magically heal from something that had the potential to kill her.

“I mean, now that we’re talking about it, it feels kind of silly.”

“Yeah,” The first queen finally laxed her grip on the blonde. “Those notes were what had Katherine worried.”

“It makes sense now I suppose. I guess I should go talk to her,” Jane made a move to get up before a delicate hand held her wrist, stopping her from moving.

“The entire house knows. I think we need to have a family meeting.”

“Is that why everyone was looking at me so worriedly at dinner tonight?” Catalina nodded.

[From Jane, to the Queens group chat: Family meeting right now, mandatory. Meet in the living room please.]

The queens, sans for Katherine who was already there, made their way down to the living room a bit confused. Why was Jane calling this meeting? Wasn’t she the one they were concerned for? Maybe this was her cry for help.

“Hi loves,” Jane greeted warmly once everyone had gathered in the room. “So, I figured we should address what you guys found.”

“Mum I’m really sorry I was going through your-”

“It’s quite alright. Lina told me you were just trying to help me out.”

“Janey if you need help, please-”

“Anne, let her speak. I think you’ll all be interested to hear what she has to say,” Catherine quipped from next to the silver queen.

“Do you remember those two weeks where I told you all I had to quarantine because I had Covid before everything shut down?” The blonde started her story for the other queens the same way she did for Catalina. The others nodded, and Jane dove into her story.

“...And now that I’ve explained myself and Catherine and I have spoken, I know it sounds silly what I did, and I’m really sorry for worrying you all.” All of the queens, aside from the first who had already heard the ridiculous story, could only stare at Jane in disbelief.

Katherine was the first to break the silence. “Oh thank god,” she muttered, attaching herself to her maternal figure. “I thought I was going to lose you.” Jane strengthened the hug.

“Are you kidding me Seymour?” Cleves could only hum out.

“Jane, you know we’re all here for you- no matter what,” Cathy mused. “You’re always helping us when we’re sick, right? You don’t see it as a sign of weakness, do you?”

“Well, no. That would be si-” The blonde paused, mulling over what the sixth queen had asked her. “-You got me.” She pointed a finger towards the writer, a small smile appearing on her face. Cathy always knew how to ground the third queen.

“Please let us know the next time you aren’t feeling well, and please tell us the truth.”

“I will. I’m sorry for concerning you all.” Jane had the decency to appear bashful, but in truth, she was absolutely guilt ridden for making her family worry this much about her over something so stupid (in her mind).

“Don’t worry about it Janey. It’s not like tomorrow I won't be the one concerning you,” Anne smirked.

“Anne Boleyn!”

All was right in their world again, but that didn’t stop Katherine from gluing herself to the third queen’s side for the rest of the night.

#six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six jane seymour #jane seymour #jane seymour six

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just-stop · 3 years

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TW: Mentions of DV and rape.

Dr Karen Williams

Psychiatrist who specialises in trauma

She shows me the video footage. She is at a party. She is completely intoxicated. Her pupils are dilated, her words are slurred, she can barely stand. Her friends have never seen her like this. Her drink has been spiked. She will be raped shortly afterwards.

Later, when she walks into the busy emergency department, they will think she is drunk and treat her as though she is. She has to ask for a blood test, which they do after rolling their eyes. No other care will be offered, nor will she be directed to the sexual assault clinic just metres away. The police say they will get back to her.

Addressing violence against women and families ... it requires talking to women and experts on the ground.

Now she is in front of me, a consultant psychiatrist. She is a young woman utterly changed. Depressed, anxious, isolated, no longer the hopeful woman with dreams of a bright future. A woman barely able to function. The police never did call her back. We call from my office numerous times, and eventually someone tells us the case was closed “months ago”. No one thought it was important to tell her.

These are the things you see when you work directly with the survivors of family and sexual violence – things you’ll never see from parliamentary offices or from behind the desks of academia.

So I was dismayed to see that the National Plan Advisory Group, recently established by the Morrison government to “help shape a future free from violence against women”, did not include any frontline health or medical workers or those with current experience in that sector. There’ll be no round-table discussions that will highlight the real systems issues if the people discussing them aren’t the ones using those systems.

General practitioners, for example, are likely to know that a third of women visiting them will have experienced family or sexual violence. It is estimated GPs see at least five women a week who are currently experiencing abuse. Yet there is no Medicare Benefits Schedule item number for family violence. Instead, they come in with pain, insomnia, injury, or to discuss the health of their children. Nothing in the health system accounts for when these presentations extend to family violence.

Doctors know spousal abuse frequently escalates during pregnancy. A routine baby health check can be a time for disclosure of serious, life-threatening abuse. “She said there was something wrong with the baby and that she was depressed,” my colleague Dr Anita Hutchison says. “It took me 40 minutes to find out the real reason she was there was because her husband had strangled her, and tried to smother their baby … how do I deal with that in 15 minutes with a waiting room full of sick patients?”

As doctors, we know emergency departments around Australia are still overwhelmed with patients, even more so since the COVID pandemic. How do you assess for the real causes of suspicious injuries if the next patient is mere metres away with only a thin sheet separating them? How do you prioritise someone who is dying from a cardiac event and a patient who is dying slowly because they are being tortured by their partner at home.

Dr Abigail Williams, an emergency specialist in Tasmania, points out: “In a small town like Burnie, where everyone knows each other, it is impossible to have a conversation to establish if a patient is safe at home.”

There are social workers in the emergency departments at some hospitals, but not all. Where they have them, they work 9 to 5, yet most family violence occurs after-hours. Those of us working with survivors of violence are aware of the systemic blindness we have as a community. Abigail Williams again: “Head injury pathways are considered high priority for sports players, but there is no clear plan for following up women with multiple injuries due to family violence.”

We know that all too often traumatised women are diagnosed with mental illness instead of having their abuse identified and managed appropriately. Even when abuse is identified, there is often no available safe housing to which women can escape. Abused women are forced to enter the Family Law Court where they are immediately suspected of “making up” abuse to obtain strategic advantage over their perpetrator.

For mental health professionals who have worked for years to obtain a woman’s confidence, and allow her to disclose the extent of the abuse , it is utterly devastating to see her contact with us used against her. The courts may well place the children with the perpetrator who appears to be “more mentally stable”.

Dr Katy Burley, who works in paediatrics in Western Australia, says: “I’ve had patients where the schools were harassing the mothers and doctors to look for an ADHD diagnosis instead of recognising the sheer amount of trauma these kids have been through is going to present as behavioural issues in the classroom environment.”

So many interactions with health care professionals are lost opportunities – not only to provide immediate health care but to identify the cause and to institute a plan for ongoing safety.

If this government is serious about addressing why abuse against women is not decreasing, they need to talk to the survivors themselves – and to those of us on the ground who can highlight just how we continue to miss these opportunities. Because when we do, we’re enabling a world where abuse can continue unfettered.

Dr Karen Williams is a consultant psychiatrist who specialises in trauma and the founder of Doctors Against Violence Towards Women. She is on the Family Violence Network Committee for the Royal Australian and New Zealand College of Psychiatrists.

National Sexual Assault, Family & Domestic Violence Counselling Line: 1800 737 732. Crisis support can be found at Lifeline: (13 11 14 and lifeline.org.au), the Suicide Call Back Service (1300 659 467 and suicidecallbackservice.org.au) and beyondblue (1300 22 4636 and beyondblue.org.au).

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benex78 · 3 years

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Forgive our Sins

5 years after the events of Immortality, Sara and Grissom are living back in Las Vegas when a ghost from their past reappears in their life forcing them to face some old decisions. GSR of course! Enjoy it! I hope you like it and please review it! (Sorry if there are mistakes but I'm not a native English speaker and a special thanks to my friend LuLu for reading it)

PART 1 They went through a lot together during their 16 years long relationship. She left him and the sin city, he went to Costa Rica for her, they got married, they got divorced, she went to San Diego and sailed with him. They hurt each other more than once, but their love never stopped. In the end, they gave up their carriers to stay together, got married again and now they were finally living happily together. Grissom and Sara are back in Vegas, living in a small house in the university district. While Sara works as a consultant for the crime lab, Gil is a part-time professor of entomology who tends to stick his nose in his wife’s forensic cases. 14 years have passed since the miniature killer events and Natalie Davis is still in prison. In her cell she keeps a collection of miniatures and she is now working on a new one. She interrupts her work on the miniature to write a letter. It’s a difficult one: she had tried to write this letter so many times without success, in fact there are a few ripped sheets of paper on the floor. This time is different, she manages to use the rights words and, once done, she sends the envelope to the Las Vegas Crime Lab. It’s addressed to Sara Sidle. What does she want from Sara? Does she want to make amends? Does she want to go after her again? PART 2 A car is parked outside Sara and Grissom's house and the driver is observing Sara. One day on her way to work, Sara notices him and tries to run away, but suddenly she’s caught in an incident. She is brought to the hospital where a frightened Grissom arrives. Fortunately, Sara is fine, she only has some bruises and she is soon allowed to leave the hospital to go home with her husband. Sara tells Grissom what happened and now they fear someone is chasing them. Thanks to the street CCTVs the police finds and arrests the stalker, however the man has nothing to do with the accident. Thus, he is released, but not after securing a conversation with Sara Sidle. He is a private detective and he needs to talk to Sara because his client, a woman named Kelly Ross, wants to meet her. Sara asks the detective the reason for this meeting and he responds that Mrs. Ross instructed him to reveal only in which part of Vegas she lives and, most importantly, that they have someone in common. Sara is caught off guard as she doesn’t know what to expect from this. However, she can’t help but feel curious. PART 3 On their day off Grissom drives Sara to Mrs. Ross, but he waits outside in the car. He is worried but he respects Sara’s decision to go in alone. When opening the door, Mrs. Ross welcomes Sara with a warm hug then she lets her in. Gil Grissom observes the whole scene speechless. When Sara comes back couple of hours later, she is in shock and immediately askes Grissom to take her home. He wants to know about the meeting, yet Sara begs him to give her some time to put her thoughts together. That evening in their kitchen Sara tells him a story she kept for herself for far too long. FLASHBACK:13 YEARS EARLIER The miniature killer had changed everything: the team had found about her relationship with Grissom, she had to join swing and above all she felt something inside her had broken and no one, not even Griss, could do anything to help her. She was so depressed that she decided to leave Vegas and the love of her life. She was in L.A. visiting her mom when she started to feel unwell. It took her a few days to even conceive the idea that she could be pregnant. She went to the nearest drugstore and paid for a test that she took directly in the customers toilet. She waited in there for almost an hour with the result in her hands: POSITIVE! How could it be? She didn’t want a child and Grissom neither. They talked about this at the beginning of their story and even more recently when he proposed. They (she and Griss) were the only family they wanted. How could she tell Grissom something like that? At least by phone she could avoid looking into his eyes and see his disappointment. She went back to her motel room and waited for the morning to come. She didn’t sleep all night, she kept looking at the clock on the wall. When she was sure Grissom could be home from work, she called him. He picked up almost immediately. She heard him giggling at the other side of the phone, but his joy faded at the news. Sara was so depressed; their relationship was stalling and surely, he wasn’t ready to be a father. Thus, they both agreed to end the pregnancy. Grissom offered to come to L.A. to be close to her, but Sara declined. She wanted to do it alone and he didn’t complain. She had just booked an appointment at a private clinic, when her mother got sick, so she had to postpone the whole thing. When she finally got there 3 weeks later, it was too late to proceed with the abortion. She had no another choice but to contact the social services to find a family for her unborn child. She never told Gilbert she carried their baby and that he was put up for adoption. To him, this was a dead story. Just 10 days before Warwick’s murder she delivered a healthy baby boy who she held only briefly in her arms before giving him away. When she came back to Vegas, Grissom was so devastated he didn’t even notice her body didn’t have the usual silhouette and she kept the secret for herself. Until now. Sara’s confession is very painful, she fears Gilbert’s reaction. She fears he will hate her and never forgive her for taking his son away. However, Grissom isn’t angry. He seems quite relieved instead. Grissom reaches his hand out across the table and places it on top of Sara’s, giving it a gentle squeeze: - I don’t begrudge you honey. In the end, you did what we had decided. At the time we didn’t want a kid and you didn’t keep it. Honestly, I’m quite happy it went this way. – Sara raises her head: - Really? – Grissom admits: - Yeah, because now, 13 years later, we are talking about someone we created, someone who has our genes and who probably is still alive. Even if he is somewhere, we don’t know where and who raised him – Sara reveals: - Gil, his name is Dylan, he is here in Vegas and Mrs. Ross is his adoptive mother – Grissom is astonished: - What? He’s in Vegas right now? Did you see him? – Sara shakes her head: - No, he was at school - Grissom: - How did Mrs. Ross find you? – Sara: - I can’t explain it, but since I had decided for an open adoption, she must have assumed a detective to find me. - Grissom: - But why now? – Sara: - Because she wants to give us a second chance – Grissom: - Sorry I don’t get it – Sara: - She is dying, she has terminal cancer and her husband has died of Covid last year. She fears that once she’s dead her boy will end up living in an institute until his 18th birthday. - Grissom’s heart starts beating fast, he can’t bear it any more. Maybe it’s his age but he wants to be a father now. However, he knows everything it’s up to his Sara: - Can we…? What do you want to do? - Sara: - Honestly… I don’t know – Grissom: - Sara, we are his parents! – Sara’s answer is firm: - No, we lost that right a long time ago Gil! – Grissom corrects himself: - You are right, but we have to do something. Don’t you want to get to know him? To see who he looks like? – Sara: - Of course I want to, but I am also terrified. I abandoned him. For all I know he could hate me. – Gil replies: - He could love you. - Sara gives Grissom a sad smile. Grissom tries to lift her spirit: - He could be a geek like us - Sara announces: - Gil, he is a special boy, he is not like the other kids – Grissom asks: -What do you mean? – Sara: - Mrs. Ross told me Dylan can’t hear, he has a genetic disease that made him almost deaf 5 years ago. Grissom is hurt, he can’t find the words to express his feelings. Sara notices his reaction and she gently touches his leg. Sara: - Are you ok? – Grissom nods: - I just don’t know how to feel about this: happy because I have something in common with my son or sad that I passed this pain to him It's all my... – Sara raises Gilbert’s chin, she cuts him off this time, shaking her head: "No, it's not. and it's not right to put the blame all on you. We both made stupid decisions in our relationship that lead us to where we are now." She takes a breath and speaks again more softly. "Now, I just want to put all of that behind us and start over..." Grissom clears his throat and asks in a more serious tone: - So... what do you think? – Sara takes both his hands in her and smiled a little: - I think we are going to speak with Kelly Ross and arrange a meeting with Dylan. Ok? – Grissom nods satisfied. Sara: - Let’s see what happens but we have to keep our hopes grounded – Grissom: - Ok… Come here – and takes Sara in his arms: - I love you, no matter what! – Sara leans towards him. She looks him in his eyes and responds with a tender kiss on his lips whispering against them "I love you too”.

PART 4 Sara spends the week working and thinking, thinking and working. Tension and expectations building up every day, more and more. In her mind Sara has imagined their meeting with Dylan at least 300 times, she has repeated all the possible things she could say to him, but every time his reaction is bad and the meeting goes wrong. Even Grissom is anxious; nonetheless he tries to distract Sara: he invites her to see one of his lessons at the university, he proposes a trip on a boat over the lake Mead and he takes her out to dinner. The Italian restaurant they go to is one of their favorites. They eat a very good lasagna and they drink a little more than they usually do, just to relax. Once at home, they go to bed. They face each other but, thinking of the day ahead, they can’t sleep. Grissom: - It’s gonna be fine – Sara: - You can’t know that – Gil caresses her hair: - No, but we have to stay positive – Sara takes Gil’s hand and brings it to her cheek: - I don’t know what to tell him – Gil’s finger brushes her lips: - The truth! If he asks, we’ll tell him the truth - Sara: - But? – Grissom: - Honey, if we want his trust, we have to be honest. We can’t lie. - Sara: - I am scared! - Grissom: - Me too – and he slowly kisses her. She returns the kiss as they are taken by the passion of their bodies, entangled in one. Their minds are lost in the rhythm of that primordial act of desire, they know so well. They are just flesh and skin, sweat and moans. PART 5 It’s afternoon and they are sitting in a park near Dylan’s school. The sight of the boy approaching them with his mother takes their breath away. Kelly greets them from afar and points them to her son. They stand up and walk in their direction. Sara and Grissom stop when they are in front of Dylan and Kelly. 4 souls, 4 people meant to be a family finally together. Dylan is a mini version of Grissom. He is not so tall but he’s slim. He has short curly brown hair. His eyes are blue and curios. Behind his left ear he has a hearing aid. Kelly addresses them to Dylan; she gestures in sign language and tells him: - They are the friends I was talking to you about. – Grissom takes courage and speaks first, gesturing his words: - Hi Dylan, my name is Gilbert and she is my wife Sara. We are happy to meet you. Your mother told us a lot about you. – Sara: - Hi, sorry but my sign language is a little rusty. I will try to improve. – Dylan: - Don’t worry, I can hear you (he indicates the implant to Sara). Moreover, I’ve learned to read lips. You, (he addresses to Grissom) on the other hand are very good. – Grissom: - Thanks. My mum was deaf, she taught me – Dylan nods pondering the answer. Sara tries to break the silence: - How was your day? Do you like school? – Kelly intervenes: - He is the best of his class – Dylan gives her a little buff on her right arm: - Mum please! – Kelly smiles: - He is shy, he doesn't like to brag – Grissom and Sara, grinning, exchange a look of complicity mixed with pride: - We can imagine – Dylan fixes them and he asks abruptly: - Why don’t you tell me who you really are? – Grissom and Sara almost choke: - What? – Kelly scolds him: - Dylan?! – Dylan continues: - You are my real parents, aren’t you? Sara feels responsible and wants to give him an answer: - You are right, I’m your birth mother and he is your father. – Dylan insists: - Why are you here? – Kelly: - I asked them to come – Dylan turns to his mother in shock but Kelly goes on: - I have to know that you would be safe, cared for and loved when I will be gone – Dylan: - How could you think that I would stay with someone who abandoned me? – Kelly interrupts them: - You three need to talk, you need to know each other. Dylan please, you have to listen to them – Dylan: - I don’t want to – and he runs away. Kelly touches Sara’s shoulder, she feels her pain and apologizes for Dylan’s reaction: - Give him some time. He is a good boy… he’s very smart – Grissom sighs: - I see – Sara is ashamed: - He is right, I made a mistake. – Kelly tries to soothe her by saying: - We all make mistakes, Sara – Sara: - But he is the one who’s paying the consequences of that mistake – Grissom: - We had our reasons, dear– Sara locks her eyes on Gil: - and why does it all seem so wrong now? – Kelly: - Let me talk to him – Sara replies: - No, I want to try - Sara goes to look for Dylan; Grissom follows her but she turns and stops him: - Give me 5 minutes – Gil nods; she approaches the boy. He is sitting on a swing. Sara asks him permission with a soft voice: - Can I? – Dylan shrugs his shoulders and Sara sits in the swing next to him. The boy leaps down and faces her. Sara: - I’m so sorry for everything, Dylan. I’m sorry for your mum, for your dad, for your earing problems, and above all I'm sorry for what I did to you. – Dylan: - Why did you leave me? – Sara tries her best to formulate an answer: - It’s complicated.... I wasn’t feeling very well. Something bad had happened to me. – Dylan interrupts her: - My father? Did he hurt you? – Sara: - No, absolutely not. He has always been kind to me – she invites Grissom to join them and he moves in their direction. – I was, I still am a Crime Scene Investigator. Do you know what it is? – Dylan nods and Sara continues: - I was working on a case, and a serial killer kidnapped me and left me to die. I managed to escape, your father and other members of my team saved me – Dylan listens very carefully. – But after that, nothing was the same. I was broken and unhappy. I wasn’t myself anymore and I couldn’t stay there. I went away from your father, from this town, from my old life. I could not be a good mother for you, you deserved more. – Dylan looks at Sara and then Grissom and says: - You are married now – Sara declares: - We got back together 5 years ago. – Grissom kneels in front of Dylan: - We're not here to be your parents, you already have them – Dylan states: - My mum is great! – Grissom agrees: - It’s true. We just want to know you, Dylan! – Sara teases: - Can you give us a chance? – Dylan thinks and then asks Sara something that has always intrigued him: - Did you give me a name before.. you .. ? Sara affirms instantly: - Arthur, I named you Arthur –

LITTLE FLASHBACK OF 13 YEARS EARLIER Sara was holding her baby when a nurse entered the room to take him. The social assistant was waiting outside. The woman checked the papers she had filled in. On the birth certificate she had written her name, Gilbert’s, and a new one: ARTHUR. She gave her baby a kiss on the forehead and passed him to the nurse who left the room, closing the door to a crying Sara. Grissom turns towards Sara, surprised by her admission. Sara looks at him directly in his eyes: - It’s your father’s middle name! – Dylan chuckles, satisfied by the answer: - It’s my middle name too – Sara is grateful that the Ross in some way had kept the name she had chosen for him. Dylan remarks: - My father was a pastor, he always told me to forgive the others. I’m forgiving you! – They give him an appreciative smile before Grissom touches his head saying: - He’d be very proud – Dylan nods and walks over to an emotional Sara. He wipes a tear from her face, similarly to what Gilbert would have done. She whispers a thank you to him, then they return to the bench where Kelly was sitting, watching the whole scene.

PART 6 Grissom and Sara start seeing Dylan every day after school. Their bond gets deeper and deeper. Dylan looks more at ease with them. He loves spending time with Gil, making experiments, going fishing or sailing. They find a new balance in their lives. Every once in a while, he even spends the night with them. The guest bedroom has become his room now. Kelly’s cancer on the other hand gets worse and she ends in hospital. It’s a Wednesday morning when Sara picks up Dylan from school and brings him to the hospital to give his mother one last hug. Kelly Ross dies at 2.00 PM of that same day and Dylan cries in the arms of Gilbert. At the funeral he stands between Sara and Grissom. He is brave but silent. Over the last year, he has lost both of his parents and found two new ones. It’s strange how life takes an unexpected turn sometimes and turns up the way it should have from the beginning. In fact, before her death, Kelly had arranged things so that Sara and Gil could have full custody of the boy and become a family.

PART 7 Sara is in a hurry; she greets her boss and some other members of the team as she prepares to leave the office. The receptionist at the desk calls her back and gives her some correspondence. She doesn’t have time to read it, she will do it later with calm. All she wants to do now is to go home to her boys and to enjoy the evening with them. After dinner Dylan does his homework in the living room, Gil prepares his lesson and Sara tidies the kitchen up. She suddenly remembers the letters in her purse, so she takes a break to read them. An envelope without a sender attracts her attention. She rips the envelope and her jaw drops.

Dear Sara Sidle, I’m Natalie Davis, you probably remember me as the miniature killer. I’ve been thinking of you very often lately. I know, I don’t have the right to write to you after all this time, but my journey here in prison made me reflect on my actions and on what I have done to you and to the other victims. I’m so sorry Mrs Sidle, I can’t change the past and my apologies can’t relieve your pain or what you’ve lost. I was angry and I seeked vengeance for no real reason except because I couldn’t accept the daemons from my past. I should have known that that wasn’t the answer but I was too lost. I hold Mr Grissom responsible for the death of Arnie Dell and I tried to take you away from him because of his love for you. However, and now I know this, it was not his fault and you were a collateral damage in my inner war. I don’t deserve your forgiveness; I’m not searching for redemption. I’m just happy that you are alive. I also hope life has been kind to you and that Mr Grissom is still by your side. Sincerely, Natalie Davis

Sara confronts Grissom about the letter and what to do next. They are concerned, still they decide to go to the county jail to see Natalie in person. As CSI they get a special permit to meet her in the interrogation room. The door opens and a guard escorts Natalie Davis inside. She is handcuffed and she’s wearing an orange suit. For the first time in 14 years she, Sara and Gil are in the same room. The guard moves to stand in a corner and Natalie sits at the table. Natalie is surprised by this visit: - I didn’t expect you to come. - Sara: - I didn’t expect your letter either. - They contemplate in silence for some time. Natalie clears her throat: - Anyway, thank you. Your presence here is very important to me – Sara replies: - I’m here because I wanted to look you in the eyes, to make sure your words were true and your regret sincere. Natalie: - Mrs. Sidle, I don’t know what to do to prove it to you - Sara: - You wrote you don’t deserve forgiveness… – Natalie: - No, I don’t. I’m a sinner and I need to be punished for my sins! – Sara: - Hmmm. It was not easy to understand it but now, now I’ve got it. We have different backgrounds, different stories but we have one thing in common – Natalie looks confused. Sara continues: - We are survivors, Natalie! We are women with physical and psychological scars. I could have surrendered to the difficulties that life put in front of me, as you did, but I decided to move on and I’m still doing it – Sara grabs Gilbert’s hand and squeezes it. They exchange a tender look. They both smile before Sara shakes her head and goes on: – Therefore, I forgive you! – Natalie is incredulous: - Why are you so good to me after all I’ve done? - Sara: - I’m not good, I just think this place and your sense of guilt are enough for me. We cannot live in resentment forever, and you know what? I’ve learned such an important lesson from a very mature 13 years old boy who has been through hell in such a short time. Goodbye Natalie. - Sara and Gil stand up and leave the room, Natalie and her nightmares behind. Dylan will be home soon with some of his friends. Tonight, they will go to the Luna park, they will ride the rollercoaster and then eat pizza. Their future is definitely bright.

THE END

#csi crime scene investigation #csi vegas #fanfic #fanfiction #sara x grissom #sara sidle #gil grissom #gsr

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storybookprincess · 2 years

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Hi Liv! (: I'm in need of ur Tohru Honda-esque ‘big sister advice’!! It would be great if u cld give me a second opinion, if ur able! If not, that’s fine!

Rn, I’m doing online classes. It’s flexible + allows me more freedom to dawdle in fandom/have time w relatives…the end of SEM1 is approaching + I need to decide whether or not I’ll continue these virtual classes/start in-person learning again (in January). I’m conflicted. I enjoy being able to pace myself/not feel as stressed as I was b4, but I don’t think I’m trying as ‘hard’ as I shld? I don’t do projects/research outside of lessons + the absence of having peers to connect w…is making my mental health foggy. I sort of do wk half-heartedly, but still turn in everything on time + have high marks, so I’m not suffering academically lol. Still!

I don’t want 2 make the wrong decision & screw up my future! I miss my friends & walking down the halls. I used 2 complain abt going to school/dealing w the workload/business/drama…so why do I long for it now? It’s the feels vs. being practical.

I’m afraid 2 go back to in-person, smth also hindering my decision (& smth I’m struggling to admit). In previous years, I’ve been known as the ‘smart kid’ in the honors track. I’m worried abt what people will think of me…& that I’ll be seen as ‘other’. Will I be able to transition/keep my grades up? I’ll probably b placed in the regular track to help w the adjustment, but I’m still anxious. Shld I continue w online → I might switch to another program (one that has a Latin class I’m interested in + more detailed curriculum…unlike independent study) & stick it out? Or shld I go back to in-person?

Thx for reading this essay-of-an-ask. I hope ur December is going okay + the weather where ur @ is nice! <3 You inspire me to improve in writing and being more positive!

hello my friend!!!! first, thank you for your well wishes in this lovely ask!! and ofc i'm so honored you came here for some advice!!! i'd be happy to share my two cents, although *insert obligatory disclaimer about how i'm not a counselor or therapist or academic adviser & just a well meaning internet person & thus everything i say should be taken with a grain of salt*

so obviously the decision to return to in person vs remain in online school is a very personal one & i therefore don't feel i should just tell you what to do. instead, i'll offer a few things to think about:

1. the basics--what is your vaccination status, your district's policy on masks, and your own pre-existing health risks, if any?

this is all pretty straightforward stuff to answer, but i'd feel wrong leaving it out. if you are unvaccinated, are at a moderate to high risk for serious health complications from covid, and/or are in a school that doesn't enforce masks or contact tracing, you'll want to give those factors some serious consideration. obviously your health is the #1 priority in all of this

2. okay, onto the actual subject of your ask!! first, you'll want to weigh the burden on your mental health of being isolated at home versus the burden of the stress of being in school

in general, i think most students' mental health is much, much better when interacting with their peers on a daily basis. at our core, we're social creatures, and isolation truly wreaks havoc on our mental and physical wellbeing. there's a reason you find yourself missing school--seeing your friends and peers and teachers every day & getting to interact with them is as critical to your mental wellness as adequate sleep, water, and food. it's not silly or impractical at all!! it's the way we function as a species

however, that being said, if you're facing bullying, social ostracization, extreme academic stress, or other adverse experiences in school, you might find you feel better at home, and that's definitely something to take into consideration. so i'd encourage you to think about an average day at home versus an average day going to school. not the absolute worst or best days--just an average one. in which situation do you feel better? that might help with your decision

3. while i was initially just posing questions, this i can say with confidence--it's extremely unlikely anyone else is going to give more than a moment's thought to which track you start back at school in

a big part of adolescence is the persistent belief that others are observing & forming judgments about you & your behaviors. seriously, it's called the imaginary audience & it's a natural, healthy, and nearly universal stage of development. but the truth of the matter is that all of your peers are way, way too caught up in themselves to spare you much of a thought

of course your friends think and care about you. of course that one classmate appreciates when you always are there to loan them a pen. of course the new kid feels happy when you smile & wave to them in the hall. but short of those sorts of things where a person either has a strong relationship with you or you do something that affects them directly, the majority of people just do not care what anyone else is doing basically ever. except in rare circumstances, no one will judge what track you start back into because they've got their own things to think about. i wouldn't let that worry cloud your judgment, and i'd remind yourself over & over that the imaginary audience is just that--imaginary

i hope this was able to give you a bit of food for thought!! i trust you to make the right choice for you, but please know that whatever you decide, it's not going to be the singular make or break decision for your future. there will be plenty of other choices you'll make--some without even realizing it--that will have far, far bigger effects, so please don't stress too much. hang in there & know i'll be rooting for you!!!! xo

#asked and answered #an accidental fandom advice columnist #although i realize this isn't fandom stuff but still #Anonymous

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imgoodloveenjoy · 3 years

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Hey yall! I have no excuse for my tardiness LOL so lets just move past that & into my favorite thing: MESS!

Ethan:

Sir is either a workaholic or is succumbing to the pressures he has Chief of ED and a management figure in the hospital. To come into work literally hours after having gallbladder surgery, or any surgery, is insane. I legit thought maybe they were giving Ethan COVID or an ulcer as he was bumbling around checking his temperature but IMO, this is worse. He’s under so much pressure to perform that he can’t leave his post to heal from surgery, it’s literally insane but a lot of people do it. I think the patient who felt he had to compete against a dead adversary mirrored Ethan competing with himself and the perception of what the hospital Board may want from him. Again, it would be good to see and hear what he’s being told from the higher ups to put things into perspective because how the writers have it now framing Ethan to be some kind of power hungry asshole but it’s really him trying to conform to what the expectations are of him as Chief of ED.

It’s becoming evident to me that Choi has zero support system: the nurses are snarking behind his back, Will and April openly defy and complain about his decisions to enforce hospital policy on top of the pressure from the hospital Board. Doris even cleared this when she said that Ethan doesn’t have a private life, his life is the hospital, and he has no one in his corner to rest and reset with; he is completely alone. I think that taking into consideration what Charles was implying, that Ethan is fighting against an enemy that he made up because he feels possibly inadequate and that he is more than competent to succeed in the Chief position because he’s more than qualified. Ethan just has to find his groove and balance and stand up to Will and everyone else who shirks his managerial decisions.

Also, I kinda like how he dismissed April LOL. I don’t think he’s over realizing that she emotionally blackmailed him and is emotionally distancing himself from her; she doesn’t help him, if anything, she increases his stress. However, that little moment with Dr. Varani, shelve it, I don’t like and don’t want it. I would prefer for Ethan to be single for a while and focus on totally owning this Chief of ED role without stressing himself out and getting a stroke; I would like to see him command more respect from his peers and subordinates by leading the pack instead of being overbearing on them. I want to see him with his sister and nephew, Vincent, cause he’s an amazing uncle and that would be fun to see how he interacts with his sister’s babydaddy’s eldest daughter, is he like an uncle or a family friend to her and her mother? Inquiring minds want to know. Romance can wait.

Marcel:

They want to break Marcel. Two cancer patients in two episodes plus his ex-wife showing up to give him mementos of his child? They wanna break him down into nothing and I’m kinda here for it. It really strips away that cocky demeanor he has and shows that it’s really a facade to keep him from really feeling emotions for himself or anyone else. Him seeing his patient, who had only a year or so to live, get married to his husband really showed him that life goes on.

I also like how open he is with Natalie; telling her about the box of things that were his daughter’s, going through the box with her and watching the video of his child, just so emotionally open. I think that this will be a point of contention and jealousy with his ex-wife and Natalie; that the ex will be really upset that Marcel emotionally abandoned her when their child passed and now he’s so available to Natalie – I think she’ll take it out on Nat and try to ruin their relationship with her jealousy. It’ll be interesting to see how Marcel reacts to that potential scenario: will he stay by Natalie’s side and defend her while continuing their relationship or will he leave because the mess is too much.

Will:

Sir, you insist on being an issue…

I think that April’s moral compass, that she has for everyone except herself and her brother, will kick in once she realizes that Will is playing dirty. He’s not confessing to Dr. Varani that he unblinded a patient and I still think he’s providing kickbacks to that one surgeon for access to his patients for the trail. Once April figures all this out, she’s going to be pissed lol. I wonder what Will’s gameplan is now? I could tell from jump that he was interested in Dr. Varani but it seems he asked her out to ingratiate himself in her good graces and hide from his mistakes: I see this backfiring on him by him being kicked out of the trail, his only place to be in a higher position, and ending whatever romantic thing could’ve been between he and Varani. Also, I think she’s kinda interested in Ethan and that might be another point of contention between Will and Ethan. ALSO also, what did he and Ethan talk about when he went to check on him? I hope he apologized for being such a dick lately but I doubt it; Will is super self-righteous and has an excuse for every crazy thing he’s pulled.

Maggie:

Was it me or was Maggie not happy to have found Auggie’s brother? She seemed very guarded and unhappy that they reached out. Could it be that she fears they will want to contest her and Ben’s adoption of Auggie? It would be really messed up if they did, but I think that Maggie should just take it slow and open herself up to Auggie having a relationship with his brother. I really like Ben, he’s so warm and welcoming that even if he had concerns regarding this foster family reaching out, he didn’t show it, he didn’t come off kinda rude like Maggie.

Sharon:

Sharon’s son is giving me all the reasons why I knew I couldn’t trust him, I just can’t really put my finger on it. He’s very shifty to me. The way he reacted when Sharon pulled him aside to speak to him about upsetting Abrams was very telling; he knew he was doing something wrong that’s why he’s so defensive but there’s something else there. Also, who the hell tries to upsell during a surgery?? What did he expect Abrams to do, stop the surgery, put in an order and begin again when the device came in the mail? Very goofy behavior and he should know better. Then to storm out of the hospital like a teenager with an attitude was ridiculous; he’s hiding something and I’m anxious to know what it is.

Abrams:

Make him a main character ASAP.

#chicagomed #Chicago Med #One Chicago #onechicago #ethan choi #april sexton #chexton #Natalie Manning #crockett marcel #sharon goodwin #Daniel Charles #sam abrams #mancel #will halstead #maggie lockwood #manstead

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