#maybe she can houseshare

[burntlikethesun]

good news - as per RTD in DWM the house at the end of The Giggle was the Noble family's (bought with her UNIT compensation for her terraced house being destroyed) and the novelisation's claim that it was Fourteen's own house can be disregarded. He is a lodger in the back garden!

#Mel lives at 13 Bannerman Road potentially even though canonically Rani owns it haha #maybe she can houseshare #doctor who

[cynicalrainbows]

More than a year later it might be but Chapter 2 of my houseshare au is now up!

****

‘Man in flowerbeds.’

Alison frowned at the spreadsheet in front of her. No amount of tweaking, no amount of ‘Well, maybe we can cut back on-’ was helping. Even changing it all to a fancy font hadn’t helped. Would a more naturally mathematical brain come in handy at times like this? Perhaps, she reflected, it might make things worse: perhaps someone with a more mathematical brain would just be able to see even more clearly how very expensive it was to maintain a huge house that also happened to be falling to pieces.

She and Mike assumed that inheriting it with rent-paying tenants in situ would have made things easier.

‘Man still in flowerbeds.’

They had been wrong.

Perhaps they could find a way to make friends with the gas meter man and wrangle a reduction in price?

‘Man in-’

‘Oh my god, Robin! You’re meant to be checking the mouse traps I put down!’

Robin looked back at her placidly from where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the windowseat, a plate of half eaten toast beside him, his shaggy brow just level with the window sill.

‘But there a man in flower beds.Thought you might want to know.’

‘No there isn’t.’

‘Is.’ Robin took another bite of toast. ‘Crush heuchera. Lady B not be pleased.’

‘What?’

‘Coral bells.’

Alison looked at him blankly. She had assumed, when first meeting Robin, that the main difficulty in communicating with him would stem from the obvious language barrier: one person raised with Latin, of all things, as their first language due to a misguided but very well meaning set of hippy-scholar parents and one person who, due to skiving most of GCSE French, could speak only English.

It turned out that was the least of it.

‘Nice plant,’ Robin explained patiently. ‘Also got cut himself on Cortaderia Selloana.’

‘Hm?’

‘Sharp plant.’

‘Oh.’ 

There was a pause and Robin took another bite of toast.

‘Man still in flowerbed.’

Alison rolled her eyes.

‘Oh yeah? Like how Megan Markle was at the Co-Op last week?’

Robin nodded sagely.

‘She there for stock up on marmite before fly back to America. I tell her, good for you, no put up with press intrusion. You deserve better, you go be happy with orange man, make many babies and give stupid American names, no worry what people say-’

‘Right ok.’ Then her eyes drifted towards the window. ‘Oh my god, there’s a man in the garden!’

‘Tell him be careful for heuchera!’ Robin called after her helpfully. Then he went back to pushing toast crumbs into the heating vent. His mouse family would breakfast well later.

*

‘Excuse me!’

Alison strode across the lawn and waved a hand at the man crouched beside the low garden wall, camera in hand.

‘Can I help you?’

He smiled amiably and nodded up at her.

‘No, you’re alright love. I’m champion here.’

‘Are you aware you’re in my front garden?’

The man squinted.

‘Is this Button House?’

‘-Yes’.

‘Then yes!’ He beamed at Alison cheerfully as if this was information they should both be pleased about.

‘WHY are you in my front garden?’

The man blinked at her.

‘Well, I’m waiting for him to come out, aren’t I? The besmirched back-bencher. The tainted Tory- Oh that’s good, I should write that down…’ He began scrabbling in his pockets and pulled out a grimey notebook. ‘Got a pen, love? He’s got to come out sooner or later and I’m happy here until he does… unless you want to maybe give him a little nudge for my sake, eh? Let me get home early enough that the Missus doesn’t give me grief again?’

‘What? No!’ Alison suppressed the urge to smack his notebook out of his meaty hand. ‘Look, this is private property: I could call the police!’

‘Yeah, s’pose you could do that, aye.’ The man didn’t look in the least concerned and Alison bristled.

‘I could!’

‘I know, love.’ The man shook his head pityingly. ‘But you know how hard it is these days- chronically underfunded, you call them and then you have to be put through and then they have to arrange to send someone round and a big, out of the way place like this…. Well, you know they’d end up getting lost, then you’d have them calling, you’d have to spend ages on the phone directing them and by the time they get here… Well, I’ll probably have packed for the day!’ He patted her hand reassuringly. ‘Do yourself a favour, love- save yourself the hassle!’

‘I could just make you leave! By force!’

‘Could you? I’m a big bloke, me- I don’t mean that in a threatening way!’ he added hastily. ‘I’d never, you know, fight a lass. But I’m a heavy bugger to try to drag and you’re a skinny little thing so-’

‘Or my husband could!’

‘Mmmm.’ The man glanced across the lawn. ‘That him?’ 

Alison followed his gaze and sighed. Did Mike and Obi really need to have picked this moment to be trying out the sumo suits?

‘He could! He really could!’

‘I’m sure he could, love.’ The photographer gave her a gentle smile. ‘I’m sure he could.’

*

Alison vented her feelings by slamming the front door as hard as she could. A shower of plaster chips drizzled down on her.

‘Oh it looks like it’s snowing! In May!’ Kitty looked up in delight from her Leaving The House checklist (permanently blu tacked to the front door after Kitty had locked herself out for the fifth or sixth time and painstakingly updated by the others after every new incident: it now stretched over two sheets of paper, beginning with #1 Check You Have Your Keys, continuing on to cover any and all electrical items and taps poentilly left turned on, and ending with #13 (in the Captains neat printing, added only two days ago) Check You Haven’t Put Your Keys Down While Attending to Items 1-12). ‘Do it again!’

Alison opened her mouth to respond but was saved from the potential back-and-forth of Kitty pleading and pouting by a brisk knock, leaving her to wonder if she’d accidentally slammed the door in someone’s face.

If it was the photographer asking for a drink of water or to use the loo, she decided she was absolutely going to say no.

But it wasn’t the photographer.

A sharp faced woman stood on the doorstep, clad in black leather and holding a motorcycle helmet under one arm.

‘Um hello?’

#ghosts au #ghosts fanfiction #ghosts bbc

[starrypawz]

fajkhsg the CHOICE. Gerry/Nemo, #23: now-or-never kisses?

Small Details for Fictional Kisses

AO3 This fic is set after this and the events of these two might help provide extra context

Notes for: Tense conversations/arguments, references to anxiety, rsd and maladaptive emotional coping mechanisms in general, Mary Keay being Mary Keay, use of the word bitch as an insult

He’s not here.

(And more importantly she’s not here)

Nemo chews their lip. They sit on Gerry’s bed in his room that’s tucked into the attic of Pinhole. Where Nemo takes some weird comfort at the sight of the unmade bed, a pair of boots that appear to have been haphazardly kicked off near his wardrobe and other signs of the organised chaos of his room and general signs of life especially when taken in contrast to the eerie, sterile darkness of the parts of the house Nemo has glimpsed.

He’s not here, maybe they should just slip back out the house and no one would be none the wiser.

He’s fine, right? He’s fine. He would’ve called if he was in trouble right? But what if he’s unable to get hold of me and in trouble what if… what if…

Nemo swallows as they do their best to dislodge the thoughts that are threatening to take a spiralling turn from ‘a bit windy’ to ‘Michael Fish misreporting a hurricane’. But they’ve proven increasing hard to dislodge over the last couple of days.

(Or why else would they have run onto the first Morden bound tube they could find and risk running into her)

There’s footsteps.

Nemo tenses.

Sound like boots.

Which is… slightly reassuring? But it’s not enough it won’t be enough not until…

They stop for the moment and Nemo swears they hear something suspiciously like an exhausted and more worrying pained groan and any reassurance that had slipped into their mind goes right out the window.

A few more steps and…

Gerry blinks a few times as he braces himself on the solid wooden bannister at the top of the stairs into his room and then snorts.

“I know this house is fucking creepy,” He chuckles weakly, “But this is the first time I’ve seen a ghost… a little ghost-”

“Where… Where the fuck have you been?” Nemo cuts him off, tenses their hands as they grip on the sheets but doesn’t move from their spot on Gerry’s bed.

“How… did you get in?” Gerry tilts his head.

“I asked first,” Nemo swallows. “So it’s ok for you to leave doors unlocked?”

It takes a few moments to register in his brain. Both what’s Nemo is referencing (The time he had to pick the lock on the front door of their houseshare) and how exactly they got into the house. (Via the back door, then through the kitchen), then he tries to go for an easy smirk and shrug, “If I remember correctly I said you shouldn’t leave your windows unlocked,”

“Windows. Doors. Same fucking difference…”

Gerry opens his mouth, goes to counter that as he can think of several ways in which there’s noticeable differences between windows and doors but now is not the time.

“I mean it’s a bit different when your mother is creepy enough to make Stephen King consider packing it in,”

He’d expect Nemo to give him a knowing smirk in response, but instead

“Gerry,” Nemo tries for firm but comes off more desperate, “What… what happened?”

Gerry sighs, “Look,” He pauses, “Mum… she had me running all over the bloody place, you know what she’s like.”

“I tried to call!” Nemo’s voice wobbles and Gerry gets the worrying but all familiar feeling that something is wrong, “I’ve been trying to call you for days and couldn’t get you…”

Gerry sighs again, “Phone ran out of charge…” Puts his hand up, “I swear if I could’ve got a hold of you I would’ve, I wanted to but I couldn’t,”

“Phoneboxes exist?” Nemo offers up, with less conviction than they intend. Gerry snorts, “They’re becoming an endangered species,”

Yet again he’d expect a knowing smirk but instead he noticed how Nemo worries their lip and grips the bannister a little harder for support.

Nemo’s staring at him, why why are they staring

“You’re… you’re hurt again,”

“It’s… nothing,” He shrug. He tries to smirk but it agitates his lip (just bruised this time rather than split thankfully) , “Sorry for the cliché but you should see the other guy-”

“For fucks sake!”

Gerry grips the bannister harder (Much to the annoyance of his bruised knuckles) eyes wide as he bites down on a shocked laugh. Not at the swearing, he’s heard Nemo swear enough times since they’ve known each other but the volumecatches him off guard.

“Shit!” He barks in response.

“You…” Nemo bites down on their lip again almost enough to hurt. “I was worried… I am worried… You worry me,”

Gerry sighs and crosses the short distance from where he’s standing to his bed, drops the well used black backpack the floor with a thud as he walks. Finds his legs have started to shake in a way that’s quite a firm warning of ‘Sit down before you fall down’. And when he does sit down it’s harder than he intends as his legs all but give out from under him as he slumps and the bed creaks slightly in protest. (Like Nemo’s it’s not really designed for two) as the last few days seem to catch up with him at once.

“I… I worry me too,” He weakly chuckles out before he can second think it.

“Gerry,”

There’s a weight on the word that almost immediately flips the ‘I said something wrong’ switch in Gerry’s brain which over the years has become fine tuned to a concerning degree.

“You… are you even taking this seriously?”

Shit

Gerry chews at his lip, the ‘I said something wrong’ switch is flipped at the expense of anything else that would kick in to help him solve a problem. Frozen, deer in the headlights can see the goddamn Landrover about to hit him late at night on a country road but all he can do is sit here.

“I’ve been so fucking worried…” Nemo swallows hard, “I don’t see you for weeks because of you having to run around for your…” Nemo tenses, “Complete fucking bitch of a mother. It’s fine for a while, I know where you are, you tell me what’s going on, where you are, you sneak me phone calls and I don’t care you wake me up at weird hours and then suddenly… suddenly I can’t get a hold of you for several days… I know… I know that’s… that your phone ran out of charge, phones run out of charge that just happens sometimes…” Nemo takes a couple of shaky breaths pauses their rambling for a moment, “I’ve been so fucking worried. I risked running into her to see if I can find you and then… you come home hurt and then… and then you try and act like that’s nothing? Like nothing is wrong?” Nemo pauses, shaky little rabbit breaths as they look at him, grey eyes wide as they shake and try and catch their breath.

And then.

Gerry huffs.

“I…” Nemo blinks, “You… I… can’t…” There’s a nervous laugh before they tense, “You… You arsehole,”

“Excuse me?” Gerry manages and it’s probably an understatement to being called an arsehole but it’s all his frozen brain can manage.

“Did you… did you even fucking listen to me?”

Gerry tenses up, and then a differentswitch flips, less deer in the headlights and more charging buck. And frozen fear is replaced with something hotter.

“My fucking phone ran out of fucking charge!”

He only just registers how Nemo flinches.

“I know,” There’s less volume but no less weight behind it.

“Then why are you getting up my arse about it?” Gerry snorts, “Didn’t realise I had to be on call all the fucking time…”

Nemo bites down on a sound of frustration brewing at the back of their throat.

“Didn’t used to be a problem,” Gerry shrugs.

Nemo can’t keep the sound down and groans head in hands, “That’s… The phone isn’t the problem,”

“Then what is?” Gerry feels himself bristle. “I don’t need a minder”

“Are… How are you not getting this?” Nemo looks up through their fingers before they sit back up. Hands tensed enough they feel their nails bite into their palms, “I… I fucking worry about you ok?” Nemo swallows, “I worry about you stuck here with that fucking bitch who doesn’t care about you beyond using you for her fucked up errands, I worry about you getting hurt or worse and not finding out…” Nemo pauses with a shaky swallow their tone having changed from frustration to desperation, for a moment they think about letting their hand breach the space between them to take his hand but stops short, “I worry about the things you have to face alone, that you shouldn’t have to face alone… or just face at all and the fact I can’t just… take you away from all that,”

Gerry feels himself tense, swallows hard, “I…” He pauses, “I… I worry about you too?” He offers up shakily, “I worry about you in that house with those people who don’t seem to remember you exist,” He pauses and does let his hand breach the space between them, cautiously reaches out for Nemo’s hand and they don’t snatch theirs away, “I worry about the fact that you could literally completely slip away from me and I’d never find out,” Gerry sighs shakily, “You know what? These last couple of days where I was lucky to get off as lightly as I did…” He pauses again and squeezes Nemo’s hand, “I wouldn’t have wanted you there, if anything had happened-” He sighs, “All I could think was… I need to get back, I need to get back for you,” He gives a shaky laugh, “I’ve… I’ve you… you know I’m not used to… this-”

“This?”

“Having… having someone around me who wants me there, me just me for me, and who I want to be around. And… I… part of me won’t be convinced this is true, thinks I’m just being strung along in some sort of fucked up joke and that one day-”

“Gerry,” Nemo tenses again as they cut him off, “I… I would never-” “I know…” Gerry shudders, “Just… tell my stupid brain that please?”

“I will not leave you,” Nemo sighs, “I promise, I will not leave you if I can help it,” Nemo chews their lip, “And… I just need you to tell me what you want… from this… us?”

Gerry sighs and offers weakly, “I think me wanking down the phone should’ve been a pretty big hint right?”

Nemo blinks, “Oh that,”

“Yeah,” Gerry gives a nervous grin, “That,”

Nemo’s brain flashes back to the conversation, both of them swimming in a giddy post orgasm haze as they made promises to talk about it the next day which… didn’t happen.

“I…” Nemo squirms a little and Gerry feels himself tense again. Old familiar protocols of preparing for the worst, that want to pick apart every slight change in tone, every subtle movement waiting waiting for the inevitable proclamation of his sinful wrongdoings of his mistakes yet disappointment imminent in three… two…

“Gerry?”

He blinks.

“Do… you want to keep talking about this?” Nemo sighs, “We can talk about it later,” Gerry shakes his head, “And risk it being sat on for another few weeks? No thanks” He tries for jovial but it comes over flat.

Nemo chews their lip, tossing words around in their head but not getting very far, realising it’s actually harder than it seems to pick up the topic of ‘I called you late at night whilst you were wanking in the shower and turned out I was feeling horny as well and well we ended up getting off together over the phone’

“It felt really good?” Gerry manages to break the silence, “Bit weird but… so fucking good,” Nemo chuckles, “That’s… good?”

Gerry gives an affectionate snort in response.

“And?”

Nemo catches their lip, “Also felt a bit weird but so fucking good”

“So…” Gerry sighs

“You meant every word you said to me right? During that?”

“Fuck yes,” Gerry smirks, “That wasn’t a pun…”

Nemo chuckles.

“I’ve…” He dares to reach out, curl his fingers under Nemo’s chin, “Been thinking about you, like that… a lot,” He swallows. He would be more eloquent but…

“I’ve been thinking about you, like that… a lot too,” Nemo parrots with an affectionate chuckle as they lean in closer.

And then Gerry makes a needy little noise that’s music to their ears as he pulls them into his lap, Nemo as always fits and melts against him as if they’re made to be there as he kisses. Gentle, his lip stings a bit but he really doesn’t mind as Nemo kisses back a little harder, their fingers slip into his hair as he holds them close and after a few moments Nemo’s hazily aware that he’s standing up easily lifting them up with him (Gerry’s not totally sure where the energy come from) and Nemo’s legs seem to know to wrap around his waist as they cross the room, kisses deep, desperate and above all hungryand Nemo feels a wall against their back and a shudder runs down their body at the feel of him pressed against them, pinning them, once again aware how small they are against his long, lanky frame and how he’s stronger than he looks. And how this time all that is stoking something deeper, hotter within them that’s flooding them with hazy thoughts about all the wonderful wicked possibilities that could come from this revelation.

Nemo catches his bottom lip and Gerry feels an answering rush something pleasurable against the slight twinge of pain (That he can unpack later, later) as he hisses. Nemo pauses for a moment concern manages to worm through their hazy brain but he gives a biting kiss in response that he hopes clears up the confusion. Nemo’s wrapped around him right, fingers in his hair as they grip and pull and make his head swim in wonderful, downright sinful ways until he comes up for air and buries his face into Nemo’s neck as he pants.

“Now what?” Nemo manages to breathe out. Head also hazy and swimming. “I think… I think we need to get out of here, back to your place,” Gerry mumbles against their neck.

#tma #the magnus archives #gerry keay #gerry delano #attempts at smuttery #ghoststories #tma nemo

[starry-sky-stuff]

Historical Sortings

I've done a lot of reading about royalty in the 19th century and I decided to have some fun and try my hand at sorting historical figures.

I wonder if you can tell who my favs and unfavs are from my sortings.

Cut for length.

British Royals:

Queen Victoria: Snake/Lion. An unhealthy Snake Primary who expected that level of unhealthy devotion from everyone around her. Probably burned a bit after Albert died. Also an unhealthy Lion Secondary who strong-armed, controlled, and domineered others, particularly her children.

I don't know too much about her husband, but I think Albert might've been an Idealist.

Edward VII, aka Bertie: Lion/Badger. His charm strikes me as more of a Badger than a Snake. He seems to me to be the ‘I know a person’ guy. Just the vibes I get. He also really liked routine and wasn’t a particularly good conversationalist, just genuinely interested in others. Not too sure about his primary, but I didn't get Loyalist vibes so I went with Lion.

Alexandra of Denmark {wife of Bertie}: Snake/Badger. She usually gets characterised as the long-suffering wife so it’s not surprising she’s the love interest sorting. She was loyal to her husband despite all his infidelities, and her interests were confined to her children and pets

Princess Alice {daughter of Queen Victoria}: Bird/Badger. Experienced a crisis of faith in middle age which I interpret as a Fallen Bird trying to reconfigure their system. Her dedication to helping others makes me think Badger Secondary. Also, she died after contracting diphtheria from giving her sick son comfort which seems like a very tragic Badger.

Prince Alfred {son of Queen Victoria}: Lion/Lion. He was wilful and abrasive, and had a no-nonsense attitude, so probably Lion Secondary. I can’t really get a read on his primary but maybe also a Lion. That would mean he and his wife houseshare, which might’ve contributed to the breakdown of the marriage.

Grand Duchess Maria Alexandrovna {wife of Alfred}: Lion/Lion. Very caustic and abrasive, I definitely wouldn’t want to be around her in real life but I admire her no-nonsense attitude and no tolerance for BS. Her marrying off her daughters young because she thought it was right makes me think Lion Primary.

Princess Beatrice {daughter of Queen Victoria}: Snake/Badger. She subjugated her entire life to fulfilling her mother’s needs and the only major conflict they had was over her wanting to get married (Snake on Snake loyalty conflict maybe). Very much a background character who worked behind the scenes, so Badger Secondary.

I don't know enough about Queen Victoria's other children to sort them.

George V: Badger/Badger. Dull, dutiful and dependable is how he tends to be described, which always makes my mind go to Badger (I swear, I love Badgers, they’re great but they’re not very flashy). Considering he refused to give sanctuary to his cousin Nicholas II because he was afraid he might threaten his own country and throne, I’m going with Badger Primary who put the good of his group over individual loyalty.

Mary of Teck {wife of George}: Badger/Badger. Duty and dignity defined her, so I think she was a Double Badger who was loyal to the institution of the British Monarchy and her family (above any individual member). Her and her husband houseshare, which might explain some of their parenting issues since neither could compensate for the other’s shortcomings.

Marie of Edinburgh, aka Missy {daughter of Alfred}: Snake/Snake. Charismatic and flamboyant, she started out as a young bride in a foreign country with no support and she ended her life as a beloved figure and the most popular member of the royal family. Part of this was her finding meaning in her life by working for the benefit of Romania, which makes me think she was a Snake whose loyalty came to include all of Romania. Also, she was disgusted with her son’s selfishness and his (initial) abdication of his rights.

Victoria Melita of Edinburgh, aka Ducky {daughter of Alfred}: Lion/Lion. Strong-willed, temperamental, and uncompromisingly honest, Ducky unabashedly followed her own course in life. She divorced her first husband despite family and social pressure, married her second husband despite protests from his family, and was no-one’s fool.

German Royals:

Victoria, Princess Royal, aka Vicky {daughter of Queen Victoria}: Lion/Lion. I read in her biography that someone was quoted as saying she was “always clever, never wise”, which I think just fits this sorting. You’ve really got to admire her steadfast belief in liberalism in the face of Prussian conservatism, but sometimes reading about her aggravates me because I’m like, can’t you chill for just a second. Like, stop doing the same thing and expecting a different outcome.

Frederick III, aka Fritz {husband of Vicky}: Lion/Badger. He and Vicky were really united in their shared Lion Primary and belief in liberalism, from which they never wavered. His indecision and constantly subjugating his beliefs to family loyalty make me think he of an unhappy Badger Secondary loyal to a group that doesn’t value him.

Wilhelm II {son of Vicky & Fritz}: Lion/Lion. Considering his fraught relationship with his mother I find him and Vicky having the same sorting to be kinda funny. But he was such a Glory Hound Lion, a total egomaniac, bombastic, and a bully. A deeply unhealthy Double Lion.

Augusta Victoria of Schleswig-Holstein {wife of Wilhelm}: Badger/Badger. Definitely an unhealthy Badger Primary, she exalted anything that was German and was prejudiced against anything that wasn��t. Probably a Badger Secondary too, who dedicated herself to her husband, children, and throne.

Otto von Bismarck: Lion/Snake. Also a Glory Hound Lion judging by his visceral reaction to the implication anyone but him was responsible for German unification. The ultimate politician and opportunist, his Snake Secondary allowed him to stay in power for decades and outmanoeuvre pretty much everyone until the system he created failed him. The irony of that is hilarious to me (Bismarck’s a figure I find interesting but utterly despicable)

Russian Royals:

Nicholas I: Badger/Lion. I’m going with Badger just on his dehumanisation of ethnic minorities, liberals, and anyone who opposed him. And he was known as the Iron Tsar, so definitely a Lion Secondary who crushed any dissent both large and small. Very ironic that he’s the Protagonist sorting, since he was someone who really wanted to do what was right for his country, but what he believed was right was the worst and he's generally considered one of the worst tsars.

Alexandra Feodorovna {wife of Nicholas I}: Snake/Badger. Similar to Alexandra of Denmark, she was defined as being the perfect wife, loyal to her husband and overlooking his infidelities, with few interests outside of her family.

Alexander II {son of Nicholas I}: Lion/Snake. Definitely not a Loyalist based on the way he treated his wife. Loyalists can commit adultery too, but if he’s a loyalist than he’s not one who valued his wife or their children. And he definitely gives me immature Lion Primary vibes, doing what makes him happy to the detriment of others, his family, and his country. He was known for his charm and congeniality, but his way of dealing with his ministers was to play each of them off each other which makes me think Snake.

Grand Duke Konstantin Nikolaevich {son of Nicholas I}: Lion/Lion. A total firebrand and idealist, he pursued his goals relentlessly and often tactlessly. Burned later in his life after his brother took a conservative bent and then Konstantin was basically removed from power after his brother’s death, so he retreated to life with his mistress and second family.

Alexander III {son of Alexander II}: Badger/Lion. Very similar to his grandfather, Nicholas I. Dutiful and hardworking, but also a lot of dehumanisation and running roughshod over others. Treated his family better than his father, and family was very important to him which could also be Snake.

Maria Feodorovna {wife of Alexander III}: Lion/Badger. She was vivacious and friendly and flourished in court life, which makes me think either Courtier Badger or Snake. I think Badger because she really understood the institutional power of the role of empress and was also really suspicious of anyone outside of the family. Nothing about her suggests Loyalist to me, but she was very firm in believing in the correctness of her own opinions. Her conflict with her daughter-in-law definitely makes sense when viewed through the lens of a Lion/Badger vs Lion/Lion

Nicholas II {son of Alexander III}: Badger/Badger. He garnered a reputation for duplicity because, since he hated conflict, he would agree with a minister during a meeting and then fire them via note the next day, so definitely not a Lion. Probably a Badger since he was obsessive over doing every single aspect of his job, including even sending letters and he refused a secretary. His attachment to autocracy derived at least partly from duty and he was very attached to his family, so maybe Badger Primary. He was also very close to his cousin George V and they houseshare.

Alexandra Feodorovna {wife of Nicholas II}: Lion/Lion. A deeply unhealthy Lion, she was obstinate, imperious, and completely inflexible. Wholeheartedly believed that she was entirely correct in her opinions, often based on little evidence, and objectivity was completely beyond her.

#sortinghatchats #it's certainly interesting to view this through the lens of family dynamics #and how your family's sorting affects your own #so many female snake/badgers #I wonder if that's their real sorting or just gender roles

[nadzicle]

This year has been a clusterfuck. Just one big ol’ clusterfuck. Like, I’m sure some of my issues aren’t big deals to others but damn, they pile on sometimes.

Things that have happened this year, in no particular order:

-  I got dumped by D for two painful months that have left me with anxiety and insecurities despite us being back together and being better,

I fell down my stairs and seriously injured myself and still have my wrist remind me about it sometimes. -Shen backslid in her education and has been getting C grades instead of the A’s and B’s she used to get. Her behaviour seriously backslid to the point of us considering that maybe she has ADHD and realising I need to get her assessed and get her some help to deal with her lack of emotional control, etc.

My stepdad beat cancer for the second time, but it’s non-hodgkins so it’s going to get him at some point, and he’s only like 48. I think. He’s younger than mum and she’s 50.

My granddad just got diagnosed with his second cancer, and it’s spread across his stomach, liver and esophagus and has been predicted to not make it to Christmas 2020. He’s only 71.

Daniel has had to deal with a lot of family drama, including his ex wife finally telling people about her father sexually abusing her as a pre-teen and teen, his ex mil saying she wants to kill herself, his ex fil continuing to be a disgusting human being, his 92 y/o grandma having two heart attacks in two months and not being given a good outlook, plus his knowledge that he won’t be able to make it to Canada in that time. And all of the shit with his family in Canada as well.

All of the above adds to my stress and my anxiety because I get pulled into it too when he needs to vent and talk about it all. Which also makes me feeling like I’m unable to talk to him when I’m struggling because he already has so much going on.

Also, my body hating on me this year. Aside from the injuries I got falling down the stairs, my back has been giving me beautiful amounts of pain for no fucking reason, my migraines have been relentless and even beta blockers didn’t stop them, I got a UTI so suddenly and badly that I wound up in hospital, and my body is dealing with my stress by causing my neck and shoulders to be stiff and sore, and I can’t afford to get massages or anything.

OOH. ALSO, my kid turned eight and in Australia that means that your govt payments decrease by like 200 bucks a fortnight and they try to force you into the workforce even if you’re a single parent who doesn’t have anyone who can babysit or help out. And then I had multiple moments this year thinking I was going to be fucking homeless because my brother tried to move out twice on me when he knew I didn’t have any fucking money to find my own place. And it’s also really damn hard to find your own place when you’re on govt payments and a single parent, and there’s fuck all houseshares for parents. They’re almost all single rooms and somehow still expensive.

Daniel also found out that his feet are so bad and in so much pain that he’s going to need another surgery on them. They already did surgery five or so years ago and they had to cut his achilles tendon and break bones and shit. And then he got an infection that the doctors didn’t listen to him about. But the joints in his feet have worn down so much because it didn’t help him walk any better than he was before the surgery.

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaay, adulting. Let’s hope 2019 is less of a clusterfuck because I don’t know how much I can handle without completely losing my shit.

#personal #non sims #saviorhide #basically just a list of me saying what the hell has happened this year thats fucked

[askjennie]

I suffer from mental illness and became too ill to stay at university because of it, so I've moved back home again until second year. Problem is, I really don't want to return to uni. I'll be sharing a house with someone who also has MH issues & I find it really triggering. I just find the whole uni environment toxic. I'm bound by the tenancy agreement though so am liable to pay rent, and there's no way on earth my Dad would let me back out now. I feel so trapped/hopeless. What should I do?

You may feel trapped, but you do have at least two options.

1. Decide not to go back to uni, which would be understandable if you feel it’s not a good environment for you. There’s no real point going to university if you really don’t want to be there, because you probably won’t do as well as you could if you’re not motivated. Talk to your dad, explain what your decision is and why, and see if you can find someone to replace you in the houseshare. In a worst case scenario, offer to work and pay back the money your dad is paying bit by bit (assuming he’s paying it, and that’s why he’d object to you backing out).

2. Go back to uni, and take steps to make it as much of a positive experience for you as you can. Talk to your housemate, and figure out if there’s anything she can do that would make you feel more comfortable living with her. If she also has mental health issues, maybe there are things you could do to help her feel more comfortable, as well. Sometimes people with mental illnesses can trigger each other and make each other feel worse, but that’s something you could work on. People with mental illnesses can also sometimes be really good at supporting each other, because they both understand what the other person is going through, so, maybe it would help to start being more open about what you both need.

Keep in touch with your uni’s student services, find out what mental health support they have available, and get as much support from them as possible. If you have a therapist outside of uni, then continue to see them, and if you don’t, consider finding one. If your mental health may affect your studies, try to be honest with your teachers about it. If you might need extra time to complete assignments, for example, a lot of teachers will be understanding of that, especially if you have mental health support from the university on your side. 

Most importantly, look after yourself. Make sure you eat. Make sure you sleep. Make sure you get outside sometimes. Try to stay organised, and keep on top of work before it gets overwhelming. Here are my self care tips, in case they’re helpful.

University isn’t always easy, but if you want to, you can do your best to make it work.

#advice #ask me anything #university #mental health #uni #school #advice blog #advice column #askjennie

[mental-health-advice]

Submission about moving from Poland to England

I’m 19, and five months ago I moved from native Poland to Northern England upon being offered a place at a decent university. I jumped straight into the deep end, all alone. I don’t even remember my first days, I think I’ve had a major identity crisis (as I’ve always been prone to depersonalisation for a couple of reasons. In previous years I was treated for depression, to no avail, and diagnosed with Asperger’s. Not sure if this is relevant). My whole childhood, public mood in Poland had been pretty self-deprecating, people would literally tell us kids to go west in search of a better life. Then, since the new gov’s been elected, Poland’s just not a good place to live, simple as that. So I’d had ridiculously high expectations of the UK and kind of hoped to leave my problems behind (it didn’t sound as naive then) and then I was confronted with complete disinterest of uni staff and Polish diaspora, the struggles of a low-paid job in retail, supporting myself on 500 pounds a month (now I can say it’s possible), living in a mouldy houseshare and omnipresent bigotry. A month later the academic year’s begun. I’m trying to balance 25-35 hours of work pw with academic progress, I really want to earn my place here. But my inferiority complex is literally eating me alive, I feel like I’m 15 again, self-destructive, stuttering (It took me years to learn speaking clearly in Polish, here we go again), consumed by my insecurities. Sometimes I’ll apologize to Brits who have to put up with me, or try to explain myself somehow, but I’ve already been judged. I can’t sleep at night, I’m perpetually exhausted, I can’t focus on anything. My mum’s state is deteriorating quite rapidly and I know it’s partially my fault, as I’ve left her alone with my bipolar father. I can’t go back and I don’t want to die, but I do feel trapped in my situation. Turning 19 two months ago was like a wake-up call, people at my age have plans for the future, are in relationships etc. And I can’t even get over my apprehension towards men (I suspect it stems from an unfortunate incident years ago and my general underlying feeling of being inferior as a female, but I don’t even know anymore). I desperately crave positive attention and in the rare instances when I actually get it, I’m all too aware it’s undeserved. I feel like I was an immigrant in the first place, a problematic and useless one to boot, and a person in the second place. I swear I’d jump off a bridge if it wasn’t for my mum. I’m so sorry for ranting so much. I don’t even know what I was expecting from you - guess I just wanted to let off some steam, figuratively. Thank you.

Hi darling,

I’m so sorry to hear that you’ve been struggling with this lovely! It’s really difficult to move to another country, and it’s very understandable that it didn’t live up to your expectations, although I also completely understand you had those expectations in the first place! When you’ve been struggling already, being completely on your own in another country can really bring those struggles back or worsen them. I don’t think it sounds naive that you thought you were leaving your problems behind lovely! You’ve always been told that going west would give you a better life, so I don’t blame you for believing in that <3

I don’t think your mum’s state is your fault though <3 You’re her child, and she wanted you to search for a better life. Even if she isn’t currently the happiest, she wouldn’t blame that on you and you shouldn’t blame it on yourself either <3 Your mum is tough and she’ll get through this! Maybe this is something you can talk to her about, that you feel guilty about leaving her alone and that it makes you feel bad that you aren’t currently enjoying your stay in the UK as much? Having a good conversation about it can help clear the air and let things out for both of you.

There are people at 19 who have plans for the future and are in relationships, that’s true. But there are also tons of people at 19 who don’t have plans for the future and who aren’t in a relationship. Look at me! I’m almost 22, and I’ve never been in a relationship. All I know for the future is that I’m currently doing my bachelors in Mathematics, but after that, I have no idea. And there isn’t anything wrong with that!

You are so much more than an immigrant, you really are a person first, and being an immigrant comes very low on the list honestly! I know me saying that won’t change your feelings about it, but I do think repeating this for yourself will eventually change your feelings on it. Not immediately, it’s going to take time, but eventually it will be. Write it down a couple of times every day. When your brain is coming up with counterarguments, write those down too with another argument about why your brain isn’t speaking the truth at that time. So basically, argue with the thoughts that you rationally know aren’t true. Because if you look at it rationally, I hope you can see that you really are a person first <3

I’m glad that sending us this submission has allowed you to let off some steam. That definitely is important! I also think it’s good to look into ways to do this regularly. Maybe it can help to keep a diary, so that you can write down anything on your mind. Or you can post vents like this on a tumblr, or another blog. And of course you can always send us another submission.

Other than that I think it would be good to speak to someone at uni about how you’ve been feeling, as this is really serious. Each university will offer counselling offices. I personally don’t know if this costs any money, but it’s worth looking into! If it does cost money, then you might want to start with speaking to a study advisor or someone of that sort. You could start by opening up about your financial problems, explaining that you need to work so many hours a week, which is affecting your academic capabilities. These study advisors are usually well aware of any programs available, so they could possibly guide you into the right direction. I don’t know if your uni will have certain programs available for foreign students, but it’s worth a try!

To manage your inferiority complex, I think it’d be good to write down two positive things every evening. Two at least! By doing this every day, eventually it will become easier, which is when you can increase the amount of positive things. Then once that’s beginning to get easier, you can increase it again, etc. This can really help in boosting up your self-esteem!

I hope this was at least a little bit helpful lovely. I’m really sorry that you’re in this situation, and I truly hope things brighten up for you!

Sometimes what seems impossible, is just hard.

Keep fighting beautiful <3

Love Pauline

#mental health #advice #advice blog #moving #poland #england #UK #university #school #uni #financial issues #money #self-esteem #self esteem #self image #suicide #death #family #bipolar disorder #bipolar #sleeping #poverty #mhapauline

[rosawayneisawesome]

Riposte: Answers to the questions from Babeworld

We were SO happy with the answers to the questions. They were so insightful and beautiful – exactly what we wanted. What made them even more lovely is that neither knew what the other was writing, so it gave us a sense of intimacy and insight into how they each viewed their friendship as individuals. There were also really beautiful moments where they both describe the same event, such as moving in with each other, yet from their own perspective which creates such an interesting narrative.

Georgina’s Answers

Alright lids

I tried my very very best to hand write my answers but I have acrylic nails and joined up writing. It was hard! And I kept misspelling everything which I guess could be like hehe how authentic and cute but I deno i dont even have dyslexia I just make up spellings cos I know my iPhone will correct me. I can handwrite like a few sentences here and there cos I do like the aesthetic and my handwriting is kinda cute ngl.

Anyway

What about Ashleigh makes you feel joy?

Her tenacity.

How do you think Ashleigh has changed you as a person?

Ashleigh's effect on my personal growth as boring as it may sound has been in like, practical ways. Like teaching me where to apply for mental health help, showing how to access benefits (actually she did the whole form for me) and like taking me to my first AA meeting and holding my hand. With patience and just overall validating my addictions and illnesses she’s given me the tools to make positive changes in my life. Before we met I hadn’t really had many successful friendships having one year expiration date on close relationships before they begin to break down or require distance because I’m so mentally messed up (plot twist-ours became the latter). Relationships are tough, yeno?

What’s one of your favourite memories of Ashleigh?

This is tough because what may be surprising to people is that we’ve only known each other like a couple of years maybe less (I’m terrible with numbers so this could be a lie) but like in the grand scheme of things it’s been brief. And within that time we’ve had so many life altering experiences and relationships and artistic opportunities and traumas and episodes and living situations and laughs. So much happens. I think probably being able to watch her achieve things like a first in her degree, a place at RCA etc where we can cry happy tears at the sight of personal and professional growth.

Has your relationship evolved since you first met?

Definitely. In the beginning I feel like we thrived in codependency spending every waking moment together and sharing a bed. There was comfort in this new found friendship where there was a natural give and take. We wanted to help each other excel emotionally and academically and creatively- seeing each others potential. We were also in between turning points. For Ashleigh it was education and for me it was work. Now our relationship has grown up and matured. I’m content in that our life events won’t always align and it’s okay to explore things as individuals whilst never failing to come back together and return to that sister-like dynamic that is always there.

What were your first impressions of Ashleigh?

First impressions were weird because I was looking for a room in a houseshare where the deposit wasn't crazy and they allowed cats. I was in desperation mode and looking to impress haha. Ashleigh was my point of contact and her facebook pictures presented a mysterious and arty character. I was intimidated by her honestly. I thought she was too cool for me. Cool and well liked, seemingly without trying, and I was shy.

If you could take an attribute from Ashleigh and swap it with one of your own what would it be?

Definitely her admin skills. Anything that requires like problem solving and logic. She’s a pure wiz at adobe, can make a spreadsheet, will keep on top of emails and is productive 12 hours a day. That kind of like natural incentive to work and organise myself and others is something I was not born with. And this extends into her personal life- she has successful interpersonal relationships and life long friends and I truly believe it’s down to her ability of knowing how to compartmentalise everything as well as being a good friend/daughter/girlfriend. Me? I’d lose a friend down the side of a couch or leave my two years late smear test at the back of a bus.

If you could sing a karaoke duet with Ashleigh, what song would you choose?

Break Up Bye Bye by the Frock Destroyers to live out our cock destroyers fantasy

What is your favourite way to spend time with Ashleigh?

As nice as meetings at big institutions, hosting lectures and performing at events are- we can’t wait to get home for a maccies *ashleigh’s apple music recently played playlist plays softly in the background* discussing ideas, stories, aspirations and discourse.

What is Ashleighs hidden talent?

It is her creativity. She credits everyone’s influence but often can’t acknowledge the independent creativity that lies within her.  Within art institutions it’s easy to feel boxed off as a practical person or a conceptual thinker- it’s always logic versus creativity and sometimes we aren’t allowed to believe they can overlap. Her hidden talent is her artistic talent. Hidden from her by herself and hidden from her by the people that are supposed to shine a light on it.

Describe Ashleigh in three words

Tall, Traumatized, Gay

Ashleigh’s Answers

What’s the best thing about being friends with Georgina?

It’s rare to find a friend who you can admit your wrong-doings to and not be judged. It’s also rare to find a friend who helps you use these wrong-doings to become a better person: G is that friend.

Describe Georgina in three words

Trauma, poor and under rated.

What were your first impressions of Georgina?

This girl needs help. Nah I’m joking to be honest the first time we met it was in a weird situation - she was coming around to try and find a house for her and her son (cat) and i wanted to help a fellow poor girlTM in need so she moved straight in. She seemed standoffish and cold, but later i realised she was just overworked and underpaid. She grew on me like a weird rash, I'm pretty sure I did the same to her.

Has your relationship with Georgina evolved since you first met?

Meeting G went from us both being like “who is this bitch.” to “she’s my bitch”. From then on she’s become my art wife, best friend, carer and collaborator, and I would probably have to throw myself off a cliff if she were to cut ties. I think i see so much of myself in her, she’s become of the people i do look up to the most- in a healthy way i promise!!

what’s one of your favourite memories of Georgina?

I think when we landed our first commission and i told her and we both sat and were like ‘we got this. we can do this” emphasis on the we. Being estranged from your family and feeling no one understands you is so isolating, so to feel part of a community, even if it’s just two of you, was such a big moment for me.

how do you think Georgina has change you as a person?

Before i met Georgina I was ashamed to admit i grew up on a council block, ate pasta and sauce and wore primark trackies. She’s basically helped me embrace my authentic self (ew cringe) - but for real! Since meeting G i’ve become more politically engaged, able to express my blackness and owned my disability. She’s taught me to be unapologetically me, and for that I am forever grateful. Babeworld wouldn’t exist without her, she showed me that being an artist doesn’t have to be this firm set of middle class ideals- but rather a safe space for me to express and vocalise my feelings. She constantly uses her privilege (particularly of being white and non disabled) to stand up for me, educate others and give me the support i need to do it for myself also. I’ll come in all guns blazing if you try and be ableist to me now, and I have G to thank for that.

what about Georgina makes you feel joy?

It’s so important to have that one friend who you can just fully vent to. She is a born listener, and a born learner. She takes it upon herself to continue to educate herself about marginalised groups and find ways to support them. the world would be a better place if we had more Georginas.

what’s your favourite way to spend time with Georgina?

I would say a codeine-binge but I don’t want to glamourise prescription drugs taking so: A three course maccies with the footy on sitting nowhere near each other because we have bodily contact. The occasional awkward eye contact as we reach for the last crisp.

what is Georgina‘s hidden talent?

I’d tell you but it’s a trade secret.

if you could take an attribute from Georgina and swap it with one of your own what would it be?

Confidence. I have a weird overconfidence which i wish i could slice in half and give to her because tbh, mines excessive and hers is massively lacking. Someone who actually has as much talent as her deserves to snap her fingers like a princess.

if you could sing at karaoke duet with Georgina what song would you choose?

You don’t want me to sing trust me. Think dying cat meets teenagers during the voice breaking phase of pubity. But if you really want to hurt yourself like that it would HAVE to be The Best- Giggs. It features a scouse rapper and that accent sends me sideways.

[theleftoverurl]

So, I'm hoping to get back into diarying at least weekly but hopefully I don't forget.

Not much happened today. Last week I went to Melbourne and I had a lot of fun on the trip and I must be suffering the holiday blues hard plus fighting a super minor cold because I've been sleeping pretty much non-stop since I got back.

I've been trying out this low sugar diet just because Melbourne was so unhealthy and that's probably not helping my energy levels either, but it feels good to eat like chicken and broccoli and hard-boiled eggs instead of burgers and alcohol every day.

Su added me to this group and invited me to this thing at the end of November, and I am kinda confused as to like where we stand but I just hope it's on the same page and that everything goes well and we can be good friends.

I finished the first draft of my poster and my supervisor said that it "looked promising" but needed "additions and tidying" and as usual that's quite annoying because it's really vague but I don't really dare ask for more feedback, so it's going to be an average job as usual.

I had a bit of a chat to Andy today, we are closer again now through Melbourne and I feel hopeful about our houseshare next year - although it will be hard/interesting to see the dynamic with Tom, I feel like the three of us haven't hung out together before and I still don't feel as if I know what Tom thinks of me. He was super open to getting cats which is a hell of a lot more than I expected given his allergies. I don't know when I will see him next though given his injuries.

I don't know, another reason I'm concerned about myself is since Melbs I haven't left the house much or been very social, it's mostly been staying at home and sleeping and maybe watching some stuff on computer. I sorted out the AirBnB for New Zealand with Sweta today, and I don't think she's mad at me for ignoring her whilst in Melbs anymore, which is rad.

Here is my plan for tomorrow:

Hopefully get up by 10am and have some breakfast and a snack. Finish up the poster by adding limitations based on Yuxi's lit review and just my own general thought and write about overcoming twin research limitations below. Re-send to supervisor and cook lunch. Check due date. If the groceries aren't used by Saturday, I'm going to have to madcook like everything for freezing. Ask Stacey if hockey training is on. Don't forget to leave at 4:45 for tutoring. After lunch, you need to start looking up this elective placement in case you want to leave Australia next year. If your gas goes below 100km it would be a good idea to fill her up and also go to Woollies for hot chocolate powder and milk - maybe try do this anyway after tutoring if hockey's not on. Also I need containers if I'm going to freeze all of this leftover food.

Yeah, so life at the moment is fairly banal, I'm glad that it's at a bit of a lull, but I think I would also appreciate making more of this time - at the same time all the sleep is probably good for me. Kate's parents come tomorrow, and I still feel a bit cheated that I haven't been invited to any birthday thing of hers yet - I am a bit sick of spending all year questioning if we are actually friends and if I'm the only one feeling this way. Meanwhile, my bookclub went off and now has like 23 people, oops, and I'm super excited about it but waiting for my copy of the book to come via the mail before I can keep hyping it - we are reading The Impossible Fortress by Jason Rekulak.

Hopefully life improves on Friday when I see Andy and Courteney and I assume Jatin in Newtown for some dinner and bevvies - Andy got a 95k offer from MongoDB, so there's something to celebrate at least. Then it's Deckles' birthday on Saturday, and I reckon that will hopefully be really fun except his Lindy secret will probably come out. I am trying to have no expectations of the party so that I have a good time aha because it's so hard to tell based on who's coming.

Sydney is fucking freezing at the moment which is making my life really difficult, and I've been sleeping and trying to do this poster so I haven't even assessed my laundry situation properly. It's hard to get motivated to like do stuff and leave the house, though, which is probably helping to get me down. I kind of want to play the piano but I need my housemates out of the house and they are like perpetually there but as ghosts so that's not a release either.

Anyway, enough drivel and bedtime thoughts. Hopefully, I will keep you updated next week when life is more exciting. Su is back Monday, but there's not a whole lot of difference apart from that next week. Still, who knows what each week will bring, hey?

#personal

[uselesswhining]

The one where I went deaf

2009, the year I turned 24, wasn't a good one for me. It started off with me finally acknowledging the depression I had been suffering for six whole years and seeking help when I couldn't go on my own anymore. What a humbling experience.

I quit university, again, and admitted I would probably have to get an apprenticeship, like all the other people who weren't smart enough for university. What a deeply shaming experience.

I got an interview with a company in Hamburg, 400km away, and somehow they thought me fit for them, but then I was masking my illness well enough and was my bubbly self. I took the job when they offered it to me and packed my bags, moved to Hamburg. I had no idea what was waiting there for me and didn't dare think about it. Future? Who knew. Staying alive was my goal, the rest I didn't care about.

I got a houseshare with a couple of unemployed dog breeders, their three dogs and their unrealistic dreams. I had about 450 Euros a month, which covered my rent of 260, food and every other month, public transportation of 90 Euros. Before I got adept at forging tickets, I boarded the train without one near the end of a month when I couldn't afford a day ticket anymore. It was the first time in my life when my card would get declined regularly. Day tickets were, of course, more expensive than a monthly one, but I couldn't afford a single expense of 90 Euros back then. Impossible. Laughable.

The dogs got on my nerve, the regular work, the first time I had to work 8 hours straight a day, 5 days a week, was tiring and while I wasn't unhappy, I also wasn't content. My room was tiny and didn't fit my large desktop computer plus monitor, so I had to put that up in the conservatory, but then of course the winter turned out to be really, really cold and the winter garden had no heating. So I couldn't even find consolation or distraction in the internet that winter.

I had no hope for the future. This was it.

One morning close to Christmas that year I woke up with a tinnitus in my left ear. It was not the ringing or the high-pitched tone they talk about on TV, but a steady stream of white noise, like an untuned radio. It was quiet enough to be ignored once I got up and the noises of a big city were more pressing. When I heard the noise again that night, I thought it had been gone and now come back. Well, I was wrong.

The next morning, it was much louder and getting difficult to ignore. The morning after that I started my Christmas holiday, the noise was even louder and made it difficult to hear other things above it now. The next day I travelled southwards to face my loud family, something I didn't look forward to as they were sure to ask me all kinds of uncomfortable questions, and the noise had become still louder. I couldn't hear anything on my left ear except it.

I hate going to the doctor but I would have done so for turning practically deaf, except it was Christmas and only the hospitals were still open. I didn't feel like an emergency, so I endured. My family, well. They are not the kindest or most considerate type of people. I didn’t want to tell them at all but then it's really difficult to hide that you're deaf. So they noticed, of course they did. If it wasn't for me asking them to repeat themselves all the time, it was my anything-but-cheery mood that made them notice something was amiss. They told  me to rest and then to hurry up because we had an appointment with some family member or other.

A few days later, when I had started hearing everything in what I call Mickey Mouse voice because it was so high-pitched, no low-tone sounds made it through my ear, I didn't have to be anywhere else so my father graciously lend me his car so that I could drive to the hospital. The situation had grown dire enough for me to face that particular hell now.

I drove to the hospital in Luckenwalde, some 16km away from my father's house. It's a small town hospital, equipped to deal with emergencies and not much else. The doctor looked at my ear, took my blood pressure and pulse and was out of her depth. I actually pitied her because she clearly felt helpless in the face of my … illness? She said as everything was perfectly all right with my ear there was nothing she could do and advised me to go to another, bigger hospital with experts. So I went back to the car and was on my way to Potsdam, one hour away on busy roads.

I learned that driving without being able to properly hear is difficult. It was frightening and I so wished for someone else to be in the driver's seat. It makes you paranoid. You keep looking into all the mirrors every second in case you missed something. There's not much time left to look ahead and it stressed me out to no end. Already I didn't look forward to having to return to my father's.

They made me wait a few hours in A&E because, apparently, they needed to wait for the ear doctor on call. Which was fair enough, I, too, wanted an expert by now. When that expert finally arrived, she was in a mood and hurried. She openly questioned my description of "white noise" as tinnitus usually is that high-pitched, screeching tone. When she, too, couldn’t find any inflammation in my ear, she doubted that I was incapable of hearing. She even said so. Doctors, eh? Fun people. To prove her point, she produced a tuning fork she apparently always carried around, held it to the centre of my head, hit it and asked if I heard the sound. I did and the case was closed. I could hear, so she sent me back home, advising I should rest.

I felt severely mistreated. By now I had consulted the internet and self-diagnosed myself as having suffered from sudden hearing loss, an illness that usually affects people twice as old as me in high-stress jobs. It's kind of a first warning sign before a heart attack inevitably takes you. I also learned that sudden hearing loss can be treated with steroids, but as the success rate is only about 50%, health insurance doesn't cover it. Rest, it seems, is at least as successful and free, so that is the most common treatment. So I knew that when the stupid doctor told me to rest it was actually valid advice, but then again, she didn't explain anything to me. If I hadn't had the internet I don't know how I would have felt about it.

In any case, my ever-caring family didn't let me rest and demanded my presence and nothing changed, meaning I still couldn’t hear anything in my left ear except Mickey Mouse. Finally, I was allowed to go back to Hamburg. A quick internet search showed me a sudden hearing loss specialist only one train stop away from where I lived so the next business day, I called in sick at work and trekked there. And finally, a doctor who could do stuff.

First off, he made me take a real hearing test, in a sound-proof box, that took 20 minutes or so and afterwards he showed me a graph that compared the hearing on my right ear with the one on my left. It felt so professional! When I told him the other doctor had tested my hearing with a tuning fork he barely disguised his disgust.

All jokes aside, the graph was worrying. Like I knew but no-one had believed, I couldn't hear anything in the middle ranges and little in the low ones. The only sounds making it through were the high-frequency ones. As my ear was otherwise unaffected, I got a preliminary diagnosis of sudden hearing loss until my blood results came back. SHL is a diagnosis of elimination, of course, when everything else has been ruled out.

The doctor advised me to start a round of steroids. As I said earlier, because the effectiveness of that is not proved, health insurance doesn't cover for it. I had to pay for the medication myself, which came down to 100 Euros for 5 treatments.

Now, I know that is actually not a lot of money and nowadays, with a steady income and some savings, I wouldn't think twice about it. But back then I was living off my over-draft, and after Christmas and having to travel to my family and back, that was maxed out. I could pay rent and was glad of being sick, because it meant I didn't have to travel to work for two weeks, so saving that expense. I didn't know what to do.

The doctor urged me to start the treatment immediately as every day counted. I had already waited two weeks and he told me from the very beginning that that had been a mistake, that I might never get my hearing back or maybe just partly. I was scared and agreed to start that very day. I figured I just had to find a way to borrow the money from someone.

That someone turned out to be my father. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. You don't know my father and I'm trying, with these stories, to paint a picture of how I was brought up. My father always made me pay for every favour so asking him for a hundred Euros, in my eyes a gigantic favour as that same money could feed me for a month, was difficult. But I did. Because I couldn't listen to music anymore. Sometimes you just have to do the things that scare you.

I did get some of my hearing back. Not all, not by far, mind you, but some. The doctor said I should go with another round of steroids, but I declined. For one, I didn't have the money. Fuck, I didn't have the money. I want to cry when I think about it nowadays, with my high-income-tax bracket. But I couldn't stand asking my father for another loan, it was completely out of the question and my mother, well she was and still is poor. Another reason is the steroids made me poorly. I was dizzy and my mouth tasted like poison. Had I had the money, I would have gone for it, but like this, that was another incentive not to beg for more.

After another week of rest, I went back to work. Hamburg is a big city and the station my train ended at, Altona, busy and loud. The first day I got off the train and stood there, among a thousand or more people trying to get to work on time, and I couldn't hear anything in my left ear, I was scared like I had never been scared before. I was incapable, still am, to place noises, had no idea from which direction they were coming, and so unused to this. I could see the people, I could feel them pushing at me, but I couldn't hear them. One ear is not enough for that. I was sure they were going to throw me under the train and I stopped where I stood and cried and waited until the last person had passed me. This still stands out to me as the scariest experience in my life. It is actually no different than having your earplugs in and walking down the platform, but it made me realise then what I had lost. Before I felt sick and sorry for myself, but that day I realised that it's not just hearing I had lost.

To this day, I can't hear anything in loud environments. The moment the background noise gets too much, like in a restaurant, I can't place sounds and everything becomes one big noise. I can't distinguish between what the person in front of me and the person behind me says. It's all right as long as people ask me expected questions, like what bread I want to use for my sub, but when it's unexpected, I'm lost and then I feel stupid. Nowadays, I live in England and people naturally assume I don't speak the language if I can't understand them, and then a sneer comes on their face which I find insulting.

No-one can see it when you're deaf or hard-of-hearing, and while I joke about it sometimes, I always do it to remind people of my impairment. It makes me feel inadequate, which I hate. Just another reminder that my life isn't actually great. Most people don't even believe it because I'm usually perfectly able to converse, until we're sitting at a Five Guys and can't contribute anything to the conversation because I'm not able to hear a word over the sound of the radio.

#down memory lane #deafness #tw:depression #age 24