pots gotta be the weirdest disorder in the world fuck you mean i laid down for too long so now i have to lay down again so i don’t pass out and seize
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Writing from Jean's POV, and I am barely a couple pages in but.
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honestly feeling kinda sad this morning. really big and stressful day for me today and I'm just kinda... alone...
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me every day: yes, I understand that I have ptsd. yes, it will frequently disrupt my life in sometimes (seemingly) random ways. sometimes this will necessitate leaving work or disclosing things about myself to a supervisor or friend or bystander because it's freaking them out and THEY are now panicking and often wanting to call me an ambulance. this is just a fact. it's fine. i'm dealing with it. most years are easier than the ones before them. it's fine.
me when my ptsd is actually triggered: what is happening right now. why can't I breathe. why can't I stand up. why do I feel like I'm about to throw up and die. oh, I know!!! I must be having an allergic reaction to something!!!! I'm suddenly coming down with the flu in the span of 3 minutes!!! this is so weird!!!!!!!
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What a FUCKING shit day.
Went to get a quick haircut this morning, had to rush home so I could get to my recruiter's office to head to SD MEPS for my final physical/interview. Halfway home my car just stops working. Power steering shuts off. Took me a good 20 minutes to get it working again. Finally get home with only minutes to spare before I need to Uber to the recruiter aaaaaand I LOCK MY FUCKING PHONE AND KEYS in the car. Had to run to my neighbor and use her phone to get a locksmith ($250 dude...omg) and then call my recruiter, who THANKFULLY came and picked me up after I got my stuff out of the car.
Now I'm laying in a hotel bed, with a headache, waiting for the terrible Marriott dinner 🫠 Gatta be up at 3 a.m. to bus to MEPS!
Someone rub my head and gimmie a hug..
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i think mike and will should just listen to music together at some point. just lay in bed next to each other and listen to music, maybe stealing glances. maybe mike twines will’s pinky with his own. maybe it’s because mike is finally home after being trapped in his own mind for the past two years and it’s so nice to hear music, real music, again. maybe will almost got vecna-ed on the hill and now he won’t stop playing music, but finally taking off the headphones and using the stereo feels a little less suffocating. maybe they couldn’t figure out how to talk to each other so mike throws on the tape he made for will as a birthday present. somehow, i think they should just listen to music together and breathe
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like literally what am i supposed to do. my cat is 17 years old and all she wants to do is lay on me and sleep. i try and make her sleep on my bed and two minutes later she is standing on her hind legs next to my chair tapping me on the arm with her sad wet eyes begging to be held
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