#the VERY SAME DAY I have a psychologist appointment and my psychologist asked if my parents have reached out since last appointment

[the-ace-with-spades]

Things/headcanons about my firefighter!Bradley and still a naval aviator!Jake AU because I can't seem to stop... I'm sorry, guys...

- Jake has tried to talk Bradley into bringing his turnouts for a roleplay thing in their bedroom (b/c, let's be honest, the suspenders alone...) but Bradley insisted that the turnouts are still carcinogenic even if they're washed regularly. The furthest Jake managed to talk him was putting on his uniform, button-up and trousers, and his decorative helmet (one he has on his Firefighting Shelf at home)

- Jake, just like Mav, buys the firefighting calendars Bradley is featured in - just for obviously very different reasons. He takes one to deployment if it's longer than three months. His bunkmates make fun of him until he shows them the Mr August he's dating...

- the first time Jake was there to see Bradley after a bad day at work, he didn't know what to do. Bradley was just so quiet and unresponsive and didn't really want to tell Jake what happened. It had continued for another two days (Bradley was supposed to have four off) and Bradley's barely been sleeping at night so Jake drove down to his station under the pretext of doing groceries and asked the on-shift crew for help with dealing with it. In the end, they took a bath together and Jake let him cry it out before talking him into booking an appointment with his psychologist

- Jake also had to get used to Bradley's ever-present need to help people. Whenever they'd go out on dates, they'd inevitably run into someone who needed help - a lady that locked her car keys, a teen that couldn't turn on his car, lost tourists, there was an older lady that was struggling to mow the lawn once and Bradley just up and left him in the middle of the date to do that. By that point Jake was so used to it he just made them some cocktails and gossiped about sweaty, half-naked Bradley with her.

- They're on a flight to Texas to meet Jake's parents when some lady goes into labour and Jake hears, 'Do we have medical personnel on board with us?' and just sighs before telling Bradley, who's sitting there, looking at him with puppy eyes, 'Just go'. It takes longer than the flight itself and the airport medics are taking their time so Jake goes to pick up their baggage alone and his mama is waiting to pick them up and he shows up alone. She's all 'where's your bf?' b/c it seems like he ditched Jake and Jake is just done but also like fond and tells her 'Delivering a baby, I guess'.

- Bradley's whole crew calls him 'the real lieutenant' for years after they met, even when Jake got promoted. Even when Jake married him.

- Jake has also once brought half his squadron to Bradley's station's charity car wash - both because it's for charity and because he wanted to show off his boyfriend in a wet t-shirt *shrugs*

- Bradley volunteers for Pride every year and the first year he and Jake are together, he gets a permit from his chief that allows Jake to ride along with him in the passenger seat

- Jake used to think he could do Bradley's job easily (the same way Bradley'd've been a good aviator if he wished to be) but then they witness a car accident and Jake sees Bradley calling 911, doing triage, crowd and traffic control, and first aid at the same time while Jake just hands him things he asks for until the ffs and EMTs arrive

- the kid that just started working under Bradley (Nate) in the fic absolutely gets adopted by Bradley and (reluctantly) Jake. Jake complains for years that he was tricked into dating a single dad and Javy points out to him that the kid was clearly already Bradley's even the day they met for the first time so he shouldn't be so surprised

(I swear firefighter Bradley was supposed to be Buck-fied but instead I Bobby-fied him more than anything else...)

im putting this under the cut since some people my find this icky but yk...

- Since Bradley is trans in this au even of it's a teeny-tiny mention (he's now going to be trans every time I write him, I'll admit...) so depending how they decide to have kids, you can just imagine the heart attacks Bradley would give Jake when he continues to do all of the above while pregnant and not see a problem ('i'm fine, Jake, I'm just pregnant, I can still do everything on my own' said when he's barely able to get up from a chair on his own). He'd for sure be like that one headline, pregnant firefighter rescues car crash victim and goes into labour, or something along those lines

- Also, for baby shower/gender reveal Bradley insists he won't show up unless everyone promises him that the gender reveal will be non-flammable b/c he's not setting California anymore on fire.

- They get cute photos of the baby/babies in their helmets (Bradley's decorative one and Jake's spare Hangman helmet)

(there'll be more headcanons to come, probably...)

#ignition tag #hangster #tgm au #op #im still sick as hell im just trying to fall asleep and it doesn't want to leave my head that's all #also thank you to anyone who wished me getting better #my brain isnt braining #so sorry if that didn't make sense #i fucking hate flu #trans bradley rooster bradshaw #charlie writes

[megpie71]

Getting Started with the NDIS

Hi all.  

A bit of background.  I'm Australian, over 50, and autistic.  I wasn't actually diagnosed as autistic until I was 50, althought I'd suspected for at least the past 20 years or so that "autistic" was the correct word for my particular brand of weird.  Last year I was diagnosed; this year, my big project has been getting organised to the point where I can put in an application for NDIS support.

I'm writing this as a part of getting started on the NDIS, as an explanation for others about what's involved with the process, what it can help with, and so on.  One of the things which made me very nervous about applying for the NDIS was the lack of clear information out there about what was available (and this is, according to my partner, who has been researching such things, a concern a lot of people with autism have when facing the NDIS for the first time) and how difficult it would be to obtain support.  My previous attempts at obtaining any kind of disability support have been in considering applying for Disability Support Pension, which here in Australia is famously difficult to apply for.  I was scared the NDIS would be the same.

For those who don't live in Australia (and even for those who do, but who aren't aware of this) the NDIS is our National Disability Insurance Scheme - a federal government system which funds various supports for people with disabilities across the country.  It covers both adults and children, and it covers all kinds of disabilities - developmental, psychological, physical, mental, cognitive, motor, sensory, and so on.  Basically, if you're disabled enough to need support, then you're probably covered under the NDIS (it isn't quite up there with chronic illnesses and such, but give us another two or three years of Long COVID, and I'll bet you there's going to be more coverage).  However, while most types of disabilities have to provide proof of impairment, there's a few which don't - and level two autism (which I have; basically, autism severe enough to be noticeably "abnormal" or "weird" to other people) is one of them.  

The form you fill in to apply for the NDIS is over here (https://www.ndis.gov.au/applying-access-ndis).  It's a long form, and it can be hard to tell what it is you're required to supply.  The hint I've heard from a lot of people is this: apply considering your worst days, not your best.  Get as many supporting reports about your disability as you can - as much documented evidence as you can supply.  The more evidence you can supply for the fact your disability is disabling and you need support, the better your likelihood of being able to be get funded.

I put in my application with the NDIA (complete with reports from my GP and psychologist, and a copy of my autism diagnosis report) about three weeks back. I got a call back last week to say "hey, your application for funding has been okayed, now we move on to the next stage - getting your plan drawn up".  Today I had my first appointment with my Local Area Coordinator (the person who works with the NDIA to draw up plans for people which say what they need funding for) to discuss drawing up my plan, and setting my goals for my first NDIS plan.

The appointment took about an hour, and it was largely completing a series of questionnaires around who I was, the types of things I was having problems with (things like going shopping; cooking meals - especially on days where I've been at work; going out in the community); the types of supports I could use (capacity building support - putting in place strategies and processes to help me do things; domestic support - help with day to day chores; community support - help getting out and involving myself with my local community) and the types of considerations that surround this (risk evaluation, in other words).  I asked for the plan to be plan-managed (or in other words, someone else is going to be responsible for handling the "paying the bills" side of things) and for support coordination (or in other words, someone else is going to be responsible for the "finding the professionals to do things" side of things as well), which my LAC agreed to, on the grounds this is my first plan, and some assistance while I'm learning how the system will go is probably a Good Thing.  I asked primarily because I know full well if I don't have someone else managing either of those, they're going to be major stressors for me, and things just will not be done (I know this because I have a list of about 17 items long of "things to do in 2022", of which I have currently completed a whole 6; and at least 4 of the items which haven't been completed were on my "do these in 2021" list as well).

The next stage is getting the plan written up and sent off to the NDIA for their approval (this is dealt with by the NDIA and the LAC - I don't have to worry about it).  I'll get a call when the plan has been approved, at which point my task becomes "find a support coordinator" - and I can ask the LAC for assistance with that.  Things which have been suggested as useful on the plan include a Functional Capacity Assessment (as in, there are hours on the plan reserved solely for that) and getting me time with an Occupational Therapist to get some practical solutions for various executive function issues that I have in place; seeing a dietitian about getting a meal plan drawn up (so I can knock at least some of the whole "choice paralysis" side of things out of meal planning and such); seeing a physiotherapist or exercise physiotherapist about working out a viable exercise plan for me (taking me from sendentary due to "gods what the hells do I choose here?" to at least moving muscles and limbs and such); domestic support to deal with things like rental inspections and so on.  

I'll keep writing these as I go through the process, and I'll tag them with #NDIS

#NDIS

[cobycobsy2k]

My high school psychologist almost humiliated me in front of almost everyone (STORYTIME)

Well guys, this storytime is recent, it happened a week ago, and the truth... I CAN'T FORGET IT!! 👁👄👁

It turns out and it happens that several weeks ago, I went to the psychologist, to deal with certain issues of mine such as my anxiety attacks, family problems and etc... First I was attended by the school counselor, who was very attentive to me, and it could be said that He helped me improve a little, we had a talk and he told me that he would tell my case to the institute's psychologist, so that he could help me. At that moment I felt relieved because I was finally going to do something for my health... I went back to class, everything was normal and blah blah blah, until the counselor called me to inform me that the psychologist wanted to talk to me, I said "well that's fine" . I entered the psychologist's office, and now the awkwardness is starting.

The psychologist was very kind, he asked me about my anxiety and insecurities, but there was something about him that didn't make me trust (something I'll explain later), and I decided to tell him almost everything (family problems, the last anxiety attack I had, my last courtship and etc...), to which he gave me a form so that I could go to another psychologist in a health center near my house, I swear that when he gave me the paper, I felt a little disappointed, since I thought that the psychologist would tell me that we would start a therapy section...

X: "You fucking ungrateful CobyCobs, you just should have gone to the health center!"

I know someone will say that, but hey let me explain something! To have an appointment at a health center here in Ecuador (or at least in the city where I live), you must make an appointment first, which, if you have very lucky, they give you that medical appointment the next day or for the next week, but, as in most of the times, either they ignore you or they give you the appointment for several months later (which is VERY bad). And if I went to the health center, but they couldn't treat me because there were a lot of people...

During the following days everything was going great, I started to feel much better about myself!, until that uncomfortable day came...

It turns out that one day they called all of us in my room, so that we could have a talk with the psychologist, which seemed fine to me. When the psychologist arrived, he gave me a look of "coldness" or of "hating me with all his soul", so the talk began, the psychologist explained some things to us, until... he began to say my damn name to " examples"!!, being these examples things that I had done and that I had told him, and some others were lies (which I will not mention because they affected me a lot) I swear I felt like everyone who was present and some teachers looked at me almost judging me and some laughed... I almost left there crying, I told all this to my friends who said that this psychologist apparently did the same with several students, and even told a friend things not very typical of someone who is dedicated to helping others , as is a psychologist.

Moral of the story: Do not go to the psychologist of your institute if you notice a little strange attitude from him! Better go to a psychologist who is willing to help you.

#cobycobs random

[citrusella-flugpucker]

Posting snippets from that WIP challenge post one at a time, part 25

((This WIP challenge post!

Today’s fic from the random draw is #4: Untitled document - A treatment of a potential second chapter of It’s Okay to Need Help (immediately following this doc is a different treatment of the same chapter with the same document name so it’s not getting an individual bullet, and neither is the other untitled document that does this later. or the fourth one. why are there so many)

Two or three of these are the same snippets in different orders anyway but one is more recent than the others. They’re all, like yesterday, treatments for potential It’s Okay to Need Help, except because these were intended to be the second chapter (yes. all of them.) they’re much more prime for cannibalization.

Rather than sort through cool things to pull from these docs (especially since I could only find two or three of them and one is the salvageable copy), I’m picking what I think might be one or two of the more fun snippets (I pulled them both from the same doc but one of them is in two different docs). They’re both Steven-in-therapy vibes.

No snippets are from the salvageable copy because it’s a boring framing snippet itself and little else. But it’s well-written so I haven’t cast it aside just yet.

Snippet one, in which Steven shows up to an appointment full-on Chad Steveny:

"Well, I can't say I've ever seen you like this. Maybe we should address it."

Her "maybe" is not a suggestion.

Her expression does not soften at the pink, buff boy's (faux?) confident grin.

He's not telling her that he's been this way for four days. Straight.

He's not addressing a thing.

He's fine.

Sure, his train of thought is salad and his coping methods are pudding and really honestly maybe he probably shouldn't have skipped lunch—

It's all fine. Everything's chill.

"Steven." She considers her words carefully. "I'm all for healthy growth, but you didn't look this way last week. Most… drugs don't work that fast, so I'm assuming this is a gem thing. ...Does this new look… hurt you?"

Does that new form… hurt you?

His breath catches. His smile falters. He shrinks, the pink and toned musculature disappearing in an instant.

I still really love the salad and pudding line, the vibe is so good and it is the very last darling I will ever consider killing. XP The Reformed reference is nice too

Snippet two, in which Steven is talking to his therapist about a different person he’s talked to recently (a bit longer than I might have otherwise wanted because I had a hard time figuring out where I wanted to cut it off):

"Mmhmm… and at the risk of sounding like a fictional TV show psychologist… how did that make you feel? To be called interesting. Your face is telling me you don't seem to have been thrilled with that."

Steven touches his face as if he's only realized in this moment that it's capable of communicating something so complex. "I… I wanted to be okay with it, but it made me kind of com--un… comfortable? I know she was just trying to make me feel better and she was excited to find something that would help me out when I get all… but it felt like an insult."

"Did you tell her that?"

He buries his face in a hand. "Oh, geez. I was supposed to, wasn't I?"

"Not 'supposed to'. You eat Craisin Bran instead of Crying Breakfast Cereal because you're supposed to. You buy car insurance because you're supposed to. You wear clothes outside of a nudist colony because you're supposed to. You do the stuff we talk about in here because we want to work on you finding healthier ways to deal with things, or to feel better. Do you think telling her would have helped you achieve that?

"...Maybe." He sighs. Time to come clean. "But in my defense it was a really off day."

"How off are we talking, if I may ask?"

"Somewhere between stepping out of the diamond essence and Jasper appointment."

She whistles a low note. Mentally. It'd be unprofessional to do that out loud, she thinks to herself, sparing a glance at her office toy shelf and her framed Archie Comics posters.

"...And how did that make you—"

"--Bad, I felt bad, thanks for asking."

"Thanks for sharing."

I really do think the chapter concept I have in my head that these two snippets tried to be part of could work... if only I could build them into the puzzle they need to fit into to make this work! DX

Reminder that this therapist is me borrowing Dr. Brooks from The Connie Maheswaran Fanclub (Or: How Connie Became the Most Popular Topic in School After She Pulled a Sword Out of Lion in Front of Literally Everyone) by @coreyww. Credit where credit is due!

And then there was one...

One is the loneliest number that you’ll ever do...

(The complete randomly generated order is this:  9, 2, 6, 10, 18, 19, 22, 20, 15, 8, 14, 26, 11, 17, 16, 23, 21, 1, 3, 12, 24, 5, 13, 25, 4, 7 FWIW XP)

))

#steven universe #steven universe future #steven universe fanfic #steven universe fanfiction #steven universe wip #posting snippets from that wip challenge post one at a time #i was really hoping to have more of number 7 written before i got to it #the content in that one is so short that you might just get the whole current wip

[thedelilah75xl]

23/02

So yesterday was interesting, my Master shared photos even though he was in a seminar the whole day. I'm irritated by the thought him also shared photos... actually better photos in social media. I do understand he's got the title...but I guess I just need to get used to it. He after all works damn hard for the title and he deserves it through and through. And I'm very proud of him.

So I was waiting all day to speak to him but there was no time for me. Eventually I got hold of him and we spoke on the phone. It was so nice having this interaction with him. I really miss him. The pain was unbearable and I struggled. I did not eat today ..the pain is truly not worth it I did about 5 hours work today. But did not finished I will do some work tomorrow after my hair appointment tomorrow morning. This year is the first time since Oct 2022 I'm doing effort about my appearance. Since Oct in and out of hospitals I stopped doing hair, nails or anything. I was sick and did not feel in any mood treating myself.

Anyway people stared at me because I was only skin and bone. And I only put my hair in a bun, because of my sickness it was falling out a lot ... And since the beginning of January I made a decision to look after myself again. To feel and look better again .

I realized people did noticed me... when one day I was at my local supermarket and a car guard came to me and just hugged me. And hes word was. Mam I saw you, and I just prayed to God and look at you now....God is great. I also remember standing in queues at the shop I got treated differently, they would fetch me out of the queue to pay immediately. I was weak yes... But realised it was people who actually cared about strangers like me. I tried to tell my husband that I'll be going back to the hairdresser tomorrow and I wanted to tell him why and he just said please stop talking I'm not interested in any drama. If I ask him something about the kids he will listen. But if its got something to do about me he does not want to hear anything.

So when he got home yesterday he said that his work wants him to see a psychologist, they will even pay for everything.

I don't know if it's even going to work.... I must hear from him, that he wants to die.... Every day..... I have no sympathy for him anymore. He was the one pushing me away and still does. This is why I'm so fucking lonely. He's always irritated with me. He wouldn't even know about my operation if the Drs rooms did not phone him by mistake.

I remember when I was so sick with Sepsis, and this same Dr operated on me, I was almost 2 weeks in hospital and the Dr visited me every morning and evening..... And about after day 4 the Dr asked me if I really have a husband, because he was never at the hospital. Even with my anorexia, he never visited me. I must be at the hospital on Tuesday at 9... I will Uber there and Uber back. I don't need him.

[forestryfae]

anyways i really need someone to diagnose me cus this is ridicilous. im 25 and all i know is i have mood swings randomly and can be set off by the tiniest shit, i am constantly scared of relationships and literally cant trust people no matter how well i know them and i have long periods of just giving up cus nothing is worth it or fun and then when something IS enough or fun i literally cant get enough of it and WILL go i NEED more. and i obbsessively pick shit and decide that This Is Safe And Perfect and somehow i NEED it in my life or nothing will ever be okay and i might as well set my life on pause until i can achieve Perfection

but yeah. the inpatient im at is so work focused, despite being a PSYCHIATRIC institution, that they value work over therapy. i need therapy. i need therapists. i need something where we are BOTH working on my social and life skills and my mental health at the same time. like those three NEED to be in sync. i cant ONLY go to work for 5 hours a day then come home exhausted and have noone talk to me except for like. to ask about art group and to tell me i need to clean my room. and then at the same time have them not do any other follow ups, not help me with medication at all, not checking in on me, not doing therapy, not taking me to appointments theyve been informed of well ahead of time, not have regular treatment-related talks with me, not even inform me about treatments, and constantly tell me its all my responsibility to fix and figure out even though its. their job. i came here to learn how to be an independent adult and instead i wind fucking. being told "figure it out yourself" and "do this" with the expectation that i should just know automatically as if i was born with the knowledge of the whole world.

like. can i maybe get some fucking therapy? i NEED a psychologist. i NEED medication, maybe. i dont know. what i dont need is to be forced to work for a year with no follow up at all and noone doing their job to make sure my treatment is like. actually working. i shouldnt have to remind them that they need to do meetings with me and that we have stuff we need to work on, i shouldnt have to deal with asking people to remember me and notice me and having to feel like im nagging or not worth the effort.

so yeah. after almost a year of being here i have finally gotten a meeting with the ONE doctor we have here who can prescribe medication so we gotta figure that shit out i guess. hes very anti meds tho according to the other patients here, and frankly i can see it seeing as his first action was to just. tell me to go sit in the livingroom and talk to people cus its good for me. nothing else like buddy. i needed. help. and you wanna focus on me talking to people daily no matter how much anxiety i have?? thats. not treatment. wheres the cbt stuff. the fucking mental excercises. the regular talks. but yeah hes been on paternity leave since like a month or three after i got here and now hes only gonna come here every. 2 months i think it was. i get to talk to a doctor who may or may not be a psychiatrist about medication i may or may not get, who has had ZERO involvement in my treatment here, and who still hasnt sent me to a ears nose throat specialist even tho i requested it months ago. instead ive been prescribed medication with no actual examination at all.

but yeah i can either stay here or go home and i dont wanna go home so. might as well. stay here for a while. and hope that i can get the shit house sold so i can find an apartment and maybe like have a life eventually.

#talkies #anyways todays mental breakdown is brought to you by me misinterpreting a single line of dialogue and feeling like a fucking idiot ever sin #like it literally should not matter to me. but i dont want people to think im a dumb stupid fucking illiterate and socially stunted idiot #and it constantly feels like i dont know how to do anything else cus im not perfect and i never recieve feedback on my. existence. #except for when i fuck shit up. as if noone else ever does. like. there are bigger assholes and idiots out there than me #except for this one guy whos also inpatient here and hes like. he keeps telling me i am actually normal and nice. i get a lot of that feedb #back here and its. rly good to know im not some monumental fuckup who will never be perfect no matter how hard i try. #and like i dont have to be perfect either i can just be. and i can try harder to be better and thats enough #but yeah atleast my fucking. brain is kinda working again. maybe itll be okay

[manicpixieirl]

september 30, 2023

What to do when your therapist cancels on you at a time where you really needed her:

Cry

Hope your therapist is okay because they haven’t canceled once in 3 and a half years

Send a voice message to your friend about how disappointed you are that they had to cancel (be excruciatingly honest about how disappointed you are, it will help)

Watch Teen Mom to remind you that things could be worse

Eat a full meal, especially if you typically forget to eat when you are overwhelmed

Read a book to put your brain in a different universe

Do not smoke weed to deal with your disappointment

In that order.

My therapist and I have been working together for almost four years. I started having massive panic attacks at the start of COVID due to the amount of time I had to spend alone, that’s why I started seeing her. I didn’t tell her I had a diagnosis of bipolar disorder until our third or fourth session, to which she answered, “Oh honey, I know.” I wanted to learn how to cope with feelings of loneliness and isolation, but throughout our time together I have learned how to cope with my symptoms of bipolar, as well. We used to meet once a week; now we meet monthly.

I care for her deeply and I like to think she cares for me, too. She’s never canceled a session before and today I am worried for her. I am also worried because I really needed today’s session and now I don’t know what to do.

So I cried, wished her well, sent a voice message to my best friend, watched the Teen Mom season 7 reunion, ate a good meal, and put my nose in a book, and intentionally didn’t smoke away my feelings. I feel better, but there are still some things I wish I could have talked to her about today. Instead I am stuck with myself and I don’t have a PHD. Although I have a lot of empathy for others, I have very little for myself.

I don’t know what is going on or why, but I have been pretty low for the past couple of weeks. I am feeling disenchanted again. I have been white-knuckling it through the past 15 days, waiting patiently for this appointment.

When she called me to cancel, I felt deflated, and I spiraled. I don’t want to have to white-knuckle life until she can reschedule.

When I pulled into the parking lot of my apartment building after listening to her voicemail letting me know she needed to cancel, I noticed a notification from CO-STAR on my phone.

“It’s okay to not be okay.”

I called my partner and when he asked if I was okay, I lied to him through my tears. “Yes, I’m fine,” I said, smiling and crying at the same time.

He took a deep breath and said, “You know, it is okay to not be okay right now.” He was on a work trip and I didn’t want him to worry, but I think he worries more when he knows that I’m lying.

So instead I said, “I’m okay with not being okay.”

I think maybe I needed her to cancel today. Maybe I needed to learn how to navigate these feelings of discomfort on my own. Maybe I needed to learn that it’s okay to feel lonely sometimes.

This afternoon I felt lonely. Tonight I feel less lonely. Maybe being stuck with myself isn’t such a bad place to be.

I wouldn’t be where I am today without the help of my therapist. I have a dedicated team of professionals that help me navigate my co-occurring Bipolar and Seizure Disorders. I have a great neurologist, psychiatrist, and psychologist; but my psychologist is my favorite. Once a month, she holds up a mirror and allows me to see who I am, both in good and in bad light.

This afternoon, I had to hold up that mirror on my own.

Here’s what I saw:

I was able to navigate a change in routine.

I was able to articulate my disappointment and move forward from that place.

I was able to admit to myself that it is okay to not be okay.

This afternoon, I was not okay. After taking some time to myself, I held up the mirror and realized that although I was not okay in the moment, I would be okay eventually.

I feel better now that I took the time I needed to read and be and cope with this feeling of isolation, but now my empathy is taking over and I really hope that she is okay. And if she isn’t okay, I hope she knows that it’s okay to not be okay.

#manic depressive #medmanagement #mentalhealthblog #mental heath support #mentalhealthsupport #recovery #bipolar

[0v3rcxme]

so. ive been advised to do something i enjoy, like write or draw, for at least 10 minutes a day. i have not been doing that but ive decided to give it a try today and also because i love tumblr in many ways but one of them is that its like screaming into the void. and i love venting but dont feel quite ready or quite prepared to do so with people that know me.

i got a little sad today because i was supposed to go to a psychiatrist as soon as possible. like the psychologist saw me once (1) and said yeah. yeah you need some medication. which is very validating in the sense that ive thought the same thing my whole life but id never taken the step to start that particular journey. anyways. im rambling. but i cant go rn. its too expensive. and it made me quite sad, not immediately, i thought it was fine, right? ive been ignoring the fact i had to set an appointment for a week or so because its easier to ignore than to face it and i knew it was gonna be expensive but still i hoped maybe it wouldnt be. anyways because its so expensive i cant schedule the appointment. and i had to tell my psychologist because she asked me because shes so nice and kind and attentive and she asked me and i had to tell her no, i cant just yet, also i answered really late because i had been ignoring it because thats what i do.

and i told my friends and it was ok like haha yeah being mentally ill is expensive sucks to suck idk but then i got sad about it and cried a little and started thinking, is it gonna be like this the whole journey. am i gonna have to struggle to pay antidepressants or whatever they may put me on and im gonna find even more obstacles than the ones i already put myself through everytime. and it frustrated me. so i felt bad.

and my friends want to support me, and so does my mom, and when i tell my dad im sure he will want to as well but good god part of me hates to depend on them for everything. hates that i cant fix it myself. or rather, i can, but i dont know how to or dont put myself to the challenge of doing so. supposedly im gonna get paid next week and good god once again i hope i get the amount i think ill get but i hate this i hate to keep my therapist waiting i hate having to make my friends worry with this i hate that i get pissed off when its no ones fault.

anyways, ten minutes are almost up. i hate money i fucking do i wish it didnt exist i wish we didnt need it to do basic things i wish i didnt need it to better my mental health i wish not to resent it. bye

#vent #therapist mandated exercise

[foxstens]

i actually tried out some meds last month

we went on a 5-day vacation to budapest but like two weeks before that i had an appointment with a psychiatrist (which had been recommended by the psychologist i went to a few weeks prior to that. nothing notable there) which was... an experience.

as a first experience with a psychiatrist it was fine at the time i guess, but the more time passes and the more i think about it the more bothered i am by what she said. it was mostly just me talking and her asking some, admittedly interesting, questions but at one point she literally said that something was wrong with me, that something was missing and that she felt really bad since i’m so young. to which im just like. k but how does that help me, exactly lmao. i also don’t think it’s something nice to say to your literal fucking patient. and so she prescribed me an anti-psychotic which i was supposed to try out for a month, half a pill for the first 10 days and then one pill a day for the rest

well i tried it for three days then quit and vowed never to take it again. that’s not what i intended and it’s also not what you’re supposed to do when you try out new meds but i found it fucking insufferable and if i continued taking it it would’ve ruined my vacation and i also don’t know how i would’ve been able to work afterwards.

the pill had three major effects  that i noticed: 

1. irritability - one i could deal with but it did make the first 2 days of our vacation a lot less fun than they should’ve been

2. lack of attention span - this is already something i struggle with but this made me so disoriented, i actually had trouble organizing my thoughts enough to have a full conversation and on our train ride to budapest i couldn’t even focus on listening to music or reading (and i had loaded my phone with new music and my kindle with fics that’s how excited i’d been about it)

3. sleepiness - easily the worst. i don’t have trouble sleeping, i get enough sleep and i very rarely have restless nights, but it does take me a little while to fall asleep and i’m not the napping type; i can nap if i need to i just don’t really need it and it’s not something i particularly enjoy either. well this fucking pill made me so sleepy i could barely stand, i spent the first two fucking days of our vacation mostly sleeping and it was fucking horrible. i just felt like i could sleep every minute of the day but i didn’t feel better or rested when i woke up. it was so bad even my mom got worried and agreed when i said i wouldn’t keep taking the pills

like these effects might have diminished if i kept taking them but it would’ve definitely ruined my entire vacation + i don’t know how i would’ve been able to work when that’s generally a struggle even without pills + if half a pill made me sleep that much i’m scared a full one would’ve put me in a fucking coma or smth

ideally i’d go back to the same psychiatrist, explain all this and have her prescribe smth else, but i’m not gonna, partially bc what previously mentioned of what she said, it really bothers me now and i don’t really wanna deal with that again (this is the first time i’ve ever been pitied in my entire life and it s u c k e d what the fuck).

what also bothered me was that she just kind of assumed what i needed help with. like, yes, she noticed a lot of my symptoms really fast and said some accurate things but she also assumed my biggest issue at the moment was the lack of motivation and big goals and said it was just the mental illness talking when i said i don’t agree.

but i’ve never been a very ambitious person, i’ve never had big goals and i’ve never considered big goals to be that important, i’ve never identified with the expectations of either early marriage 2.5 kids and your life’s over at 25, or you have a super successful career and get super rich. like i dropped out of college and i don’t feel bad about it for fucks sake. 

my mom partially agrees with the psychiatrist’s assessment since she’s worried i’ll do something stupid if i don’t have big goals to work towards but i haven’t been interested in... that... since i was 14 and nowadays i have plenty to look forward to, especially now that going to budapest revived my will to live a little. last week i fucking decided that i’m gonna visit amsterdam if it’s the last thing i do. that’s gotta count for something, right?

and why is a lack of motivation (god i fucking hate that word and concept) so imporant when i have other symptoms that influence me on a daily basis so much more. like, i don’t know, my lack of attention span for example or my tendency to get spontaneously over- and understimulated or my terrible fucking executive dysfunction that i’ve been struggling with for as long as i can remember OR MY SHIT ASS MEMORY which has never been excellent but might as well not exist for how bad it’s gotten lately.

but what do i know. it’s not like i’m the one experiencing all this. lmao. so yea that was something and it wasn’t terrible but it also wasn’t the best and the next time i go to a psychiatrist i’m gonna make sure to say at least some of this. because it’s about high time someone fucking listened to me for once in my fucking life. UGH!

#my posts #my rambles #read more #lifeblogging #i went to a psychiatrist and this is me recounting the experience #bc ive talked about it with my mom but writing things like this out always helps #and it'll help me rmr some of the things i wanna say the next time i go

[farcillesbian]

doctor appointment ended up being kinda frustrating lol - she was behind (saw her at 4:20 when I was booked for 3:45) and I asked the secretary if my psych appointment that was supposed to be at 4:30 would be okay and she said I was actually the last patient of the day for the psych and he's here all evening so it's fine to start whenever I'm done with the doctor. but the doctor was like saying that she didn't have time to see me anymore because of my psych appt even tho the secretary was telling her it was fine?

she finally like. allowed me to come in but I felt very rushed, she said I had 30 minutes booked with her and I said I had 2 separate issues that I did intake appointments for and that I was told I'd be able to address both in the same appointment and she was like "pick whichever issue is more important to deal with today because I might not be able to do both" but then the appointment ended up only taking 12 minutes and she really brushed off my concerns about potentially needing to switch meds for my brain shit and honestly barely seemed to know what to do there lol. (like she said if it just happened once like this then it's probably fine... idk man) and bc I was so rushed I didn't feel like I could bring up the abdominal pain even while I was talking about my heartburn like I had initially planned. at least I got a prescription med for the heartburn to try and clear that up.....

on the positive side: psychologist was GREAT I was actually a bit nervous about him bc my friend had to see him a bit in place of her usual psych during the summer and said she wasn't a huge fan of him because he was very mindfulness focused and I was like "oh god if he tries to tell me to meditate so I can beat my executive dysfunction..." but actually he was very attentive, I felt really listened to, and we've come up with a plan to try and tackle the things I've been having a particularly hard time with in a way that works for my brain & I'm v optimistic tbh ʕ´•ᴥ•`ʔ (← pleasant bear kaomoji)

#petchyposting #disappointed about the doctor but frankly unsurprised I've seen her before and felt very dismissed that time too lol

[that-cheer-up-anon]

My outfit yesterday! I don't usually wear heels out but I thought that I HAD to for this outfit

Later on basically nothing went according to keikaku. Missed my bus, my heels broke, got blisters, had to buy new shoes and bandaids, didn't get to study so lugging my heavy laptop bag was not helping, took the wrong bus going the OPPOSITE DIRECTION, a passenger needed an ambulance so I had to wait for a backup bus

Anyways long story short: I was so hot in public the sexy gods had to punish me

#Ella life #Ella face #not sure if you can see but I had sparkly dark blue winged eyeliner #yo I looked SO GOOD #oh and my dad sent me a message and immediately tried to call me when I was studying w a classmate #the VERY SAME DAY I have a psychologist appointment and my psychologist asked if my parents have reached out since last appointment #and I say no #HE FREAKING SENDS ME A MESSAGE #it hurts thinking about it and knowing their birthday is later this month #ANYWAY SCHOOL HOLIDAYS FOR 2 WEEKS NOW #although I have to finish my books during holidays so it's not completely relaxing

[softxsuki]

Tw: mental health

Hello lovely! I have been hesitating to send this ask for a few hours now cuz I really didn’t wanna bother you! :( I’m so so sorry, but I just had a very bad day… honestly I have been struggling with my mental health for the longest time but only this year when I started going for regular therapy session and also started medication recently… I thought I got a little bit better with the help I’m receiving but I’m not sure why sometimes for no reason at all, everything just starts to go down for me…I started to think a lot but I just didn’t want to bother people about these kind of things over and over again and I’m also scared that certain ppl will actually judge me if I tell them about the appointments and medications :(

These few days also just brought back bad memories from when I was younger and being bullied in school… it just feels like a slap in the face when I tried so hard to get better but yet again I went back to square one… I’m really sorry this turn out to be very dark and depressing :(

Is it alright for me to request for an urgent request? Maybe just a short scenario about character saying reassuring things to me and accompanying me to my psychologist sessions? My comfort character as of current is Kuroo from Haikyuu or Hyun-Su from sweet home..(either one of them is fine!) thank you! And sorry for ranting!

-💛anon

Kuroo (Haikyuu) and Hyun-Su (Sweet Home) Comfort Reader After Hearing About Their Mental State (Separate)

Pairing: Kuroo x Gn!Reader, Hyun-su x Gn!Reader

Warnings: Mental health talk, feeling down, mentions of therapy and medication usage

Genre: Comfort, perhaps slight fluff?

Post-Type: Headcanons

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: In which Kuroo and Hyun-su (separate) comfort you after you open up about your mental state

[A/N:Hello my wonderful 💛anon <3 I'm so sorry that you've been feeling down after things were just starting to get better in terms of your mental health. It must be very frustrating :(. Your requests never bother me, please know that you will never bother me! It's an honor to be able to write this for you in hopes that it helps bring you any form of comfort! Also don't apologize, it's really okay! I used to go to therapy a while ago, but I stopped. After Covid and losing my best friend of 11 years (she didn't die, she just kinda pushed me away) I went back into my horrible spiral of darkness and I felt the same way. Like that I was back to square one, but I kept pushing and I was able to come back out of my pit of darkness thanks to my other friends and my faith, music, all that good stuff lol. BUT I still have my moments, so I just want you to know that having bad days is normal, but definetly continue to strive towards feeling better and working your way out of that place of darkness. Never give up <3. I'm here if you need me. ANYWAY, I chose to do headcanons since I wanted to write for both of your comfort characters. I hope that's okay :3, pls lemme know if it's not and I'll work on them again for you until you're satisfied with how they come out. Hopefully Kuroo and Hyun-su can provide you with some comfort <3. Also I HOPE KUROOS VOLLEYBALL ANALOGY MAKES SENSE. I swear it sounded so good in my head, but then I wrote it and it was ehhh, but idk if it makes sense to someone other than me. hehhh. Enjoy, and I hope you feel better soon <3]**** note it’s my first time writing for Kuroo and I haven’t watched Sweet Home for a while, so I apologize if any of the characters are out of character :3

Kuroo:

Kuroo is so patient and understand about your situation

He knows about your mental state and realizes that you’ve been having a few bad days recently, so he tries his best to help you take your mind off things

He’d try to take you out, maybe to one of his volleyball games or to a park to just walk with you and give you a chance to clear your head

If that doesn’t help then he sits down with you and tries to figure out what’s going through your head

“What’s going on Y/N? You can talk to me you know,” he says gently, reaching out to hold your hand in his own

“It’s okay Kuroo, I don’t need to bother you with this,” you smile softy at him, but secretly wish you could just let all your feelings out

He’s almost insulted that you think you speaking to him and expressing yourself to him is you “bothering” him; if he could, he’d sit and listen to you talk for hours about whatever’s on your mind

He wouldn’t force you to tell him though if you didn’t feel comfortable, he’d just give you a reassuring smile and hope that you’d open up to him soon

In the meantime though, he’s always trying to make sure you know how amazing you are and how important you are to him

Expect plenty of surprise hugs (mostly back hugs as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck) and spontaneous words of encouragement

“Hey darling, you’re doing so wonderful today. I’m incredibly proud of you,” he tells you one day

“Proud of me…? For what?”

“Just proud that you exist in my life and for trying your best each day,” he exclaims with a sly smile, walking past you while ruffling your hair

He’s worried about you of course, but he tries not to show it in fear that seeing him so serious would make you feel even worse, so he keeps that smile that you love on his face and continues to act like things are normal while still squeezing in some comfort for you

Whenever you do build up the courage to let him in on what’s going on in your head and how you’ve been feeling for the past few days, he quietly listens and grabs ahold of your hand to encourage you

“I’ve just been feeling so great after my therapy sessions, even the medication was helping. I really thought I was getting better, but then I randomly found myself back at square one. Like all my hard work went to nothing, and I just don’t know what to do Tetsuro…” you explain to him, finally getting the weight of your emotions off your back a bit

“Hmm, I see what you’re saying,” he says while rubbing small circles to the surface of your hand, then he looks at you with his signature smile, “but I don’t think you should give up after feeling like you’ve spiraled back to square one, that doesn’t mean you actually are back to square one.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” you ask him, confused at his wording, but glad that he was still comforting you instead of judging you for the information shared about yourself regarding your therapy session and medication usage

“Let me put it this way. I play volleyball. All our players have their good days where we win games and rounds back-to-back. Of course Nekoma is a strong team, but we also have our bad days. Whenever we lose a round, we don’t give up and claim our loss, because we still have another round to bring our chance of victory back. Even if we lose that second round, ultimately losing the game between our opponents, that doesn’t mean Nekoma is now a weak team, we just happened to have a bad day that game.”

“Hmm I see,” you hum in thought as you try to take his words in, and he continues.

“Now, after that loss, our team can continue in two different ways. Either one, we get hung up over our loss and have it affect every future game we have, which will surely bring us more failed games, or two, we learn from our loss, shake ourselves off, and train harder so that we ensure our next game is a victory. This is all to say, all the effort you put into getting better is still there! You didn’t work hard to get yourself into a better place for nothing, but bad days are sure to come for anyone. Regardless of our mental state, we all have bad days, and that’s okay,” he reassures you

It was nice to hear that at least your feelings were normal, but you wouldn’t just magically feel better from his words over-night

“Thanks Tesuro,” you give him your best smile. “I was wondering...if maybe you’d come with me to my next therapy session? You don’t have to if you don’t want to though! Don’t worry about it...actually nevermind, it’s okay.”

“I’d love to go if you don’t mind,” he eases your mind and pulls you into him, leaving a soft kiss to the top of your head

You smile at him, glad that he really wasn’t making a big deal out of things

He wants to treat you like he normally would because he honestly doesn’t think any differently about you once he hears about your therapy sessions or the meds you take; you’re still YOU, and that’s all that matters

Whenever he does accompany you to your therapy session he lets you decide whether you want him in the room with you or if you’d like him to wait outside for moral support--whatever you’re comfortable with

But regardless, he’s there for you through it all and he’ll make sure he treats you the same as always until you’re feeling better again

Hyun-Su:

Hyun-su’s pretty quiet, which makes him a great listener, so you can trust that he won’t judge you for the things you want to vent about

Maybe it was the fact that you knew about his past, but you opened up to him about your situation fairly quickly

ANYWAY, he silently listens as you explain everything, from your past experience of being bullied, to your therapy session, medications, how you were feeling better, but then suddenly you started feeling like things were going down-hill again--everything

Hyun-Su knows what it’s like to be bullied in school, as he was also bullied, so he really feels for your situation and knows exactly what you’re going through

I feel like he wouldn’t be the best at comforting you verbally though, so instead of using words, he’d try and comfort you through actions

Therefore, he pulls you into his arms once you finish explaining how you’d been feeling

“I’m sorry you have to go through this Y/N,” he tells you finally after a few moments of silence

Though those are the only words he says to you, you feel a weight fly off you just being in his embrace; there was something so comforting about being in his warm arms, inhaling his familiar scent that made you feel at home

He’s calm on the outside, but internally he’s angry at the people that used to bully you and wishes desperately that he could have been there or wished that he knew you at the time so that at least you’d have him to lean on whenever you needed someone (cute baby ahh)

Regarding your therapy sessions, when you ask him to go with you, he’s unsure at first

“Are you sure it’s okay if I go with you?” he asks skeptically

“Of course, I’d love it if you could be there with me,” you smile up at him

Since you want him to go with you, he wouldn’t say no, but he would offer to wait outside the door or step out if you ever needed him to

He’d be quiet the whole session, maybe inconspicuously rubbing your back or reaching for your hand if you ever look uncomfortable during the session

You’re definitely in good hands with Hyun-su though, he’s incredibly supportive and comforting during your time of need, so don’t bother pretending like you’re okay when you’re not, he’ll notice right away

He’ll do his best to be by your side and help you in any way he can until you feel better :)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 11/19/2021

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #hq x reader #kuroo x reader #sweet home x reader #hyun su x reader #cha hyun su x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x gn!reader #haikyu x you #haikyu x y/n #haikyu x gn!reader #hq x you #hq x y/n #hq x gn!reader #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x you #kuroo x gn reader #sweet home x you #sweet home x y/n #hyun su x you #hyun su x y/n #cha hyun su #haikyuu headcanons #hq headcanons #sweet home headcanons #kuroo headcanons #hyun su headcanons #tetsuro kuroo

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

White Lies (Pt. 20 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 1.6 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

<- Previous part (19)

Next part (21)->

{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

{John Wick Masterlist}

×

His

The moment you open the front door, you know something's off. It's night already, and you're sure, by how dark it is, that every single light is turned off. Keanu was supposed to stay with Liam as you went to your appointment with the psychologist. Another one, someone who will give you a different perspective. So you don't get why the house seems to be empty. He doesn't take Liam out without telling you, and you do the same, always letting the other know where you'll be.

“Keanu?” You call, throwing your purse on the couch and taking your heels off.

Fear starts creeping over your skin when you see something weird on the floor, some feet away. Walking there, you bend over to take it, and at the same moment you realize what it is, you see another, and another, and one more after, forming a trail that leads to the back of the house. Furrowing your eyebrows, you wonder why are there so many red rose petals on the floor.

“Keanu?” You call again, making your way to the backyard, an unusual yellowish light getting your attention. “What–” The words get caught on your throat when you notice more and more the petals, and as you follow and then, raising your head, your eyes go wide at the sight of the backyard, completely lit up by candles.

There's a table set in the middle and roses all over the place. Keanu stands by the table, in a damn suit, which makes him look even more handsome. Mouth half open, you take a look at everything, perfectly set, before starting at Keanu once again.

“Ke... What...” He moves his hand a little and a slow, soft song starts playing. You gasp, biting your lip.

“Can I have this dance?” He asks, and you nod, making your way over him and taking his hand on yours.

Keanu guides your arms around his neck, his big, warm hands resting on your hip, and it burns right through the delicate fabric of the green dress you're wearing. And then, you start moving, from side to side, following the rhythm.

“What's this about, Ke?” You have to ask. It's been a while since you decided to start dating. It does sound silly, given everything that happened, but you both thought it would be a good start. You also promised not to let out what happened between you two, since people wouldn't understand and you don't want to affect his career. You forgave him, wholeheartedly, and you know he did what he did to keep you safe.

“Just thought we needed a romantic dinner.” He simply says, taking your hand and pushing you away, so gently, before pulling you back into his arms. “And don't worry. Liam is with Mrs. Jackson.”

“Alright...” Raising an eyebrow, you look up at him. “Is it a special occasion? Like my birthday or something?” The day you were born was mentioned, but you didn't really pay attention.

“Not for a couple of months.”

“You're oddly mysterious tonight, Ke.” Tiptoeing, you place a kiss on his lips.

“What's wrong with a little bit of mystery?” When the song ends, he takes your hand, guiding you to the table.

“There's nothing wrong with it.” Shrugging your shoulders, you smile at him, taking your seat.

“I'll serve dinner. Give me a minute.” You nod as he walks back inside, taking the time to look around again.

The yard was never so beautiful, the candles casting soft, warm lights. There are red petals, scattered around the place, and roses on the centerpiece. Reaching out your hand, you take one, bringing it to your nose and breathing in the amazing scent.

“(Y/N),” Keanu calls when he's near you, and when you turn around, you don't find anything on his hands. “I was going to wait so we could have dinner first, but...” Taking your hand in his, Keanu pulls you up, and you furrow your eyebrows at him.

He takes a deep breath before searching for something on the inside of his suit, and you feel your blood running cold when he gets down on one knee.

Keanu reveals a small, dark box, and when he opens it, there's the most beautiful ring you've ever seen in it. It shines, lit up by the candles, and you see three stones, the one in the middle a little bigger than the others.

“(Y/N), I know it's only been some months since we started... Dating.” He begins, and you feel your hands shaking. “But everything happened to us in quite an unusual way and I'm completely in love with you.” You're already crying, a hand covering your mouth. “I thought I knew what love was, but I was so wrong. This is love, and it's... Undescribable. The way I feel when you walk in the room is... You own my heart, it's yours.”

Biting back a sob, you let him take your hand in his.

“So I couldn't wait anymore, beautiful. I want what we had while stuck on that lie to be real. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine. Forever. So... (Y/N)... Do you want to be my wife?”

“Yes,” you mutter, a little too fast, but since you're not sure if he could hear it, you nod, watching as he slides the ring on your finger.

There are no words to describe this moment. As Keanu stands up again, welcoming you into his arms and lifting you up, and you know this is right. Maybe everything meant to lead you to this moment. You know there are important people you left behind, like Daniel, your first husband, but you can only count on what you remember. And maybe just maybe, this was meant to be since the beginning. And you're happy, beyond happy, to have found the love of your life.

So it doesn't take much until the preparations start. Actually, they start on the very next day. For the general public, you'll be just a wedding vow renewal, since you don't remember the first. But it doesn't matter what they think, only what you know.

Laura is overjoyed, and she takes it into her hands to help you with everything. The date is set for only two months after the proposal, so it gives you little time to put everything together. And Laura is as indecisive as you are about the wedding dress. You do want to know Keanu's opinion, but you really want it to be a surprise, so you manage to chose it without asking him.

Things start getting hectic as the day approaches, but thanks to Laura, and to some people Keanu hired to organize everything, stuff is getting done just in time. When the day comes, there's not a single thing that isn't perfect.

There weren't allowed any journalists, just a single photographer, who's friends with Keanu. You know the pictures will find their way online, and you're well aware of some paparazzi hiding away. But nothing else matters. When you say ‘I do’, dressed in white, eyes on the most handsome man on Earth, nothing else matters.

And when you kiss, sealing your love before all the guests, you finally understand the true meaning of happiness. And as you walk down the aisle, hand in hand with Keanu as he holds Liam in his free arm, you smile at the camera, barely able to believe your eyes.

Sometime later, you're watching Liam playing in Mrs. Jackson's arms as you're seated on Keanu's lap. It was just for some photos, but you decided to stay.

“I have some news. But only if you agree.” Keanu says, low voice on your ear.

“Let's hear it.”

“I thought about a week in the Caribean as a honeymoon. But in November, so Liam is a little older. And if you think he'd be alright without us for this period.” As he speaks, Keanu pulls your hair away, placing a kiss on your neck.

“If we can hire Laura as a babysitter, I think it'll be alright.” Biting your lip, you look down at him. “And you should at least try to control yourself, Mr. Reeves. There are still some hours before we can be alone.” Lowering your voice, you smirk, placing a kiss on his lips.

“Because you're so good on self-control, Mrs. Reeves.”

“Oh, I love my new name.” Kissing him again, you only pull away when a song starts playing. “Ok, we have to dance.” Jumping to your feet, you start moving already, holding his hand as you walk to the dance floor. The song is fast, so you get this chance to be all over Keanu the best you can without letting anyone else notice the teasing.

“Do you really think it's a good idea to tease your husband before the wedding night?” He asks, his huge hands coming to encircle your waist, pulling you against his chest.

“It's the best idea I ever had.” Winking, you turn around, moving along with the rhythm, rasing an eyebrow to see Laura dancing with Robert. That took some time, but you finally see something happening.

The rest of the party goes on wonderfully well, and when it's over, you go back home. Mr. and Mrs. Jackson offered to stay with Liam tonight, so you and your husband have the house to yourselves. You're not entirely surprised to find your bedroom all decorated with candles and roses. You love it, but before actually getting into bed, you completely fail on the self-control thing, joining Keanu in the shower.

But of course, it doesn't stop there, and in no time, the amazingly decorated bed is messed up, once again claimed as yours. And even though you're tired of the party and the ceremony, you can't stop. You can't have enough of Keanu, you can't have enough of finally being his.

×

@multific @inumorph @aestheticallywinchester @bvbwestfall @liviiii98 @allie1804-fan @gian-giannina @playboygeniusphilanthropist @partypoison00 @mariafetamina @fortheloveoffanfic @trin303 @june-harris

#keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves #imagine keanu reeves #john wick imagine #john wick fanfiction

[anika-ann]

Conundrum (A.B.)

Type: One-shot, challenge fic

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!reader    Word Count: 7700 (:

Summary: conundrum - a confusing and difficult problem or question

Andy Barber is a difficult man whom you have yet to understand. He certainly doesn’t make it any easier; and right before Christmas, he manages to surprise you again.

Prompt: You have to look for a gift impromptu

Warnings: a smidge of angst, a drop of awkward humour, mention of death (mild AU - both Laurie and Jacob!), alcohol consumption, feels, explicit language, reader gets called a dumbass... that’s it I hope, lemme know

A/N:  This is my submission for the Happy Hoelidays challenge. There’s no hoeing tho, shame on me. Also, if you want some music to go with this, know that I listened to ‘God I Hope This Year Is Better Than the Last’ by SYML an obscene amount of times.

Andy Barber was an enigma.

Reporters liked to think he wasn’t; almost a year ago, they tore down all the walls he had built up to protect the privacy of his family and they shed light into startingly intimate details of his life – and where they couldn’t shed light, they used their imagination and sold it with a claim of having a reliable source. Naturally, it worked; there were always people willing to believe it just so they obtained more of juicy gossip material.

There were wanabe psychologists who would address his trauma and tried to analyse his personality, the consequences he would suffer in the aftermath of the tragedy, who attempted to strip down his soul just to get a few more reads and generally talked about him as if they were best friends, as if they knew him.

It was all a load of bullshit.

The truth, you thought, was that no one knew him. If you were being honest, you weren’t sure if even his wife ever had, truly – but that was you under the influence of the little information you bothered to gather from the influx of crap that the media provided the public with.

What you believed was that the reporters and all the self-proclaimed experts on him knew nada.

Andrew Barber was and always would remain an enigma; to the public, to the little what remained of his family after the death of his wife and son, to his co-workers – the category which included you. If you could even call yourself a co-worker; you were simply a secretary. Granted, one whose previous employer let her peek over their shoulder quite a bit so you learned a thing or two about law, but Andy Barber was the lawyer. The former DA from Boston, who moved over to rule the DA office of Portland, your home.

Even after having been working with him for nine full months, Andy’s thoughts and feelings didn’t get any easier for you to read or predict. When he wanted to let you know he was disappointed, he did. When he was truly angry with someone, well, he wouldn’t let it go unnoticed either.

Other than that, however, you would have had better luck trying to decode the actual enigma-encrypted messages sent during World War II.

Small talk didn’t last longer than three sentences from you each. Work-related affaires were discussed in his office with politeness and with calm, rather dispassionate mannerism. If you caught a hint of a smile when an important case that helped people went his way (or the office’s way really), you considered it a miracle that sent your heart reeling.

He would sometimes smile only for you if you brought him a coffee without him asking first, simply because he looked like he needed one; at those times, he would thank you softly and let slip in your first name instead of referring to you with your last. Those were your favourite moments.

Well, almost.

You found him with a tumbler and an expensive whiskey on occasion when you were leaving the office late; you never commented on it, but there were four times he actually silently invited you to have a glass with him. You refused the first time and accepted the other three.

Those nights, you got a glimpse of the mystery of a man hidden behind surprisingly soft mannerism, one which was in such a sharp contrast to his shark-like demeanour he displayed in front of the judge and the jury. His scars ran deep, his hopes had been shattered, his life in the past year as bitter as the overpriced liquor. Your heart cracked for him to the point of nearly breaking altogether.

And yet, it was beating for him too; behind all that hurt, you couldn’t but notice certain gentleness. Yes, he could be scary, downright terrifying and when his temper got the best of him, the true rage on display, he was a force to be reckoned with. But oh, that gentleness. The kind shattered soul he hid so well every morning, more so on the days right after your little heart-to-hearts. Trying to build a working relationship with him – a friendship of a sort, anything you wanted to call it – was a game of push and pull and more of a string of guesses than an effort that would bore fruit.

You might have already given up on that and instead, with the ferocity you hadn’t known you possessed, you kept punching the crush you had on him; that silly thing that would always call louder and louder after he revealed a piece of him on one of the precious nights, only to shut you out completely the next morning.

Andy Barber had never even remotely showed a romantic interest in you and by God, did you not blame him for not being interested in anyone at all as far you knew. While you considered yourself a fairly capable worker and half-decent person, you were aware you could never measure up to him. Just another reason to push down the feelings you had for him, ones that seemed to bloom with more intensity whenever he raised the corners of his damn lips, when he asked a question about you during those stupid nights as if he cared— nonsense. You had to get rid of those. He didn’t even like you, barely acknowledged you in the end. Or did he? You honestly didn’t know.

Bottom line was that if you couldn’t get close enough, then the reporters knew jack shit, no matter how much reading on him they had done or how many books on psychology, criminology and law and shit they went through. Many people knew Andrew Barber’s name, but no one could hope to know him.

And yet, those assholes still called and asked about him.

It was the fourth one that day; December 23rd, over a year from the accusation of Jacob Barber, and those fucking vultures still called Andy Barber’s office. They weren’t even good newspapers and news sites anymore; obviously, because every rational decent person would have let the poor man rest. But nope. Not them.

“Portland’s DA office, secretary of Mr. Barber speaking. How may I help you?”

“Oh, wonderful! Is there any chance I could talk to Mr. Barber personally?” the chipper of a man asked on the other end of the line and just by not giving his name, he raised suspicion; was it forgetfulness caused by his distress or intention?

Fortunately for him and unfortunately for you, you had to be polite. Hot-shot lawyers and other important people rarely returned the courtesy, but that was the world you lived in.

“There might be, Mr-?”

“Oh, Connor. Peter Connor.”

“Well, Mr. Connor, what is your legal issue?” you asked patiently, writing down his name automatically.

“Well, you see, I would rather talk with Mr. Barber about—my delicate situation, in private.”

Your eyes narrowed as you stopped scribbling and spared a brief glance towards the door to Andy’s office. It was opened ajar in what could be an invitation, but all blinds on both the door and the windows were down in typical fashion.

Talk in private?

Yeah, not gonna happen. You knew a few tricks that these assholes calling the office tended to pull and whoever this man was, you were growing more suspicious by the minute that he was not seeking legal advice.

You went back to your notes and wrote down the word liar right next to his name and a question mark. Was he a liar? One way to find out you guessed; you caught your phone between your ear and your shoulder, opening a new tab in your browser to google the name along with a wild guess of him being a reporter.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Connor, I’m afraid I will need more information before I put you through. And I will probably need to make you an appointment, my boss is a very busy man-“

“Oh, is he? Lots of cases in Andrew Barber’s new district, huh?”

The blood in your veins was set aflame even before the search was done, because in an instant, you knew for sure.

And then you had it confirmed by the results.

This jerk had even given you his real name, utterly shameless. Sure, he could have only had the same name as the journalist you found, but what were the chances? Two days after you told his colleague – who had made it through your vetting, got an appointment and even got past the reception desk before you spotted him for what he was – to get lost and not try again?

Your pulse skyrocketed along with your blood pressure. Technically, you didn’t owe Andrew Barber anything, but he was respectful enough, didn’t make much trouble and for most time, was an okay boss to you.

You owed him this much: he was a decent guy. Why couldn’t other people show a shed of basic human decency too and leave him the fuck alone?

“That depends, Mr. Connor,” you purred, barely holding the outrage locked inside. You felt both energized by your anger and achingly tired and done with humanity. You rested your elbows on the desk and leaned onto it with a sigh, massaging the bridge of your nose, eyes closed. “Is he going to have to sue your rag of a newspaper or will you and your colleagues finally get the memo and leave. His. Personal. Life. Alone?!”

You most definitely strained the last words through your teeth, but you didn’t care anymore if you were being rude. He was the fourth reporter today ready to ask about Andy’s personal matters. The FOURTH!! He was lucky you didn’t tell him to go fuck himself… explicitly.

“Are you threatening me?” the man demanded, his voice insulted, losing all traced of pretence.

As if you ever. You knew better than that, working with lawyers.

“Nice try, Mr. Connor.  I will thank you to never call this office again unless you have legal issues or a relevant question which you should direct to our PR department anyway. And if you could extend this to all editorial staff, please, preferably to all editorial staff in the United States, that would be splendid. Have a good day. Happy Holidays.”

You slammed the phone down, missing the slot for it, not caring. You were sure he would hang up on his own.

“Asshole,” you muttered under your breath and hid your face in your palms, grunting, fingertips sinking into your hair.

“I hope you don’t mean me,” sounded from the doorway and you yelped, honest to god yelped and straightened in your seat, head snapping up-

-only to meet your boss’ curious gaze. Hurt and anger casted shadows over his beautiful cerulean irises, but there was no mistaking the melancholy and resignation on his face either.

“Of course not!” you blurted out quickly, panic rising in your chest.

How much had he heard? Was he going to fire you for being unprofessional? Did he figure out what was this about— of course he did, there was little room left for doubt. Your choice of words was pretty straightforward.

Andy bounced off of the doorframe he was leaning onto, not easing his stance – his arms remained crossed over his chest and had you not been so alarmed, you would have indulged in the sight of his biceps nearly cutting through the seams of his shirt.

“Why do I get the impression that whoever you were talking to was not the first person to call the office to feed on ‘the misery man’ that Andrew Barber is?” he more stated than asked, his tone unmistakably bitter.

You gulped as he approached your desk, nails digging into your palms. You had no idea what to say. Once again, you couldn’t quite read Andy; you had no idea where this was heading and how you should answer without setting him off, making him sadder or even more bitter. And without getting fired, obviously.

“I—uhm, well, I suppose you heard me, so you know he wasn’t the first—Mr. Barber. I apologize-“ His eyebrows rose a fraction and you didn’t dare to analyse why. “-if I was too loud. But--- humanity sucks.”

The moment the last two words left your mouth, you instantly regretted them, snapping your eyelids close and squeezing. You were sure you were about to have bloody crescents in your palms from your nails at this point.

Did you really just say that? To your boss, no less?

Way to go, me.

“Not wrong there. Why don’t you take your lunch break now?” he offered casually.

You nodded as you felt the tell-tale burn of tears forming in your eyes; fuck, this was humiliating. Why had he had to walk in exactly in that moment? And now using that tone?

He didn’t say anything else and you didn’t dare to look at him. Only when you heard him walk back to his office and close the door behind him, you opened your eyes and released the breath you were holding, your heart hammering in your chest.

Gulping and swallowing your tears before they could escape, you grabbed your purse and your coat, rushing out to the cold air of Portland winter.

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Andy didn’t bring up the incident again when you came back. You had a short list of assignments for the upcoming days off which you went over with him before parting ways for the holidays. You mentioned you would probably drop in tomorrow despite not necessarily having to, but wished him Happy Holidays in case you’d miss him during your brief visit.

The corners of his lips twitched at that, but he wished you the same. You supposed his holidays weren’t about to be happy – more like the opposite. Last year, he celebrated with his family, even if it might have been already falling apart. This year however…

Your heart cracked another fraction for the man and you wondered if you should leave some cookies for him in the office tomorrow at least. Then you realized he would probably hate it, either being bitter about feeling like a charity case or hating the reminder of what he had lost, what wasn’t waiting for him at home anymore. Not to mention that maybe even the poinsettia, which you had placed on his office window two days ago and neither of you commented on, was already too much.

The only cookies you baked that night were the ones you knew should stay in a box with apples for over a day, the cookies you were supposed to bring to your sister’s house for Christmas, because your nephew Harry loved them.

With cheesy Christmas songs in the background and a bottle of wine for the party of one, you kneaded the double batch of dough and couldn’t but spare your achingly handsome and likely lonely boss a thought and maybe… maybe a tear or two.

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The office was empty when you arrived on 24th at around half past four; everyone left as soon as possible, which was to be expected. Admittedly, despite not knowing what you would talk about with Andy, you found your heart sinking when you didn’t see light peeking through the blinds of your and his offices. You had expected him to be working to avoid being at home; but then again, you knew next to nothing about him. Maybe he was with a girlfriend. With a boyfriend. With former colleagues. With his deceased wife’s family. It was only assumption of yours that he might be lonely on Christmas.

You shook your head at your train of thought as you unlocked your office, mentally going over which files you needed to bring home, trying to eliminate the amount as not to endanger confidential information by taking them away from the safety of the bureau.

You froze in your tracks when you found a rather large piece of paper folded into a roof on your desk. A note, you realized, frowning and slowly walking to the suspicious object.

There were very few people who could enter your space, namely three: the janitor, you and Andy. The first option was unlikely, the second impossible, the third confusing. You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just shoot you a text if he needed anything.

You halted in your steps, the air knocked out of your lungs when you noticed that the note was not the only new item on your desk.

There was a box.

A box roughly size of your extended palm. And if you weren’t mistaken… it looked like a jewellery gift box.

“What the hell?” you asked yourself breathlessly, your curiosity getting the best of you; more so as you recognized what was most definitely Andy’s handwriting on the paper.

Andrew Barber, your boss, with whom you weren’t sure what your relationship was – if there was any at all – might have got you jewellery.

Say that again?

A tiny voice in your head told you he might have just used the box for something else entirely, but that didn’t seem to be his style.

So you picked up the gift carefully, almost reverently removing the lid, your heart pounding in your chest, stomach twisting with pleasant anticipation; with the familiar rush that kids feel when opening a present with high hopes of what could await them inside.

Your lips parted in pure shock, you mind turning blank.

There were no words in English language to express how… how absolutely magnificent the bracelet inside was.

Five thin circles with symbols made of slender lines inside, looking like charms, but withing the body of the bracelet, one clasped to the next one with delicate ellipses. The metal reflected the fluorescent lights of the office, glimmering softly, appearing almost fluid, a thin stream of water trapped in a box.

You actually had to blink and it took all your willpower not to pinch yourself, because—how-

How had he known? Where had he got it? Holy mother of Jesus, how much had he spent on it?

And why get you a gift in the first place? You were… acquaintances at best. Yes, there were almost friendly moments, and then there were those nights, but this was---this- you couldn’t even---- think, apparently.

Keeping an eye on the opened box, you gently placed it back on the desk, afraid to even touch the metal itself. You blindly reached into your purse in search for your phone to dial the only number that made sense for you to dial at that moment.

It sure as hell wasn’t Andy’s.

Nothing but a dialling tone sounded for half a minute, the time seemingly endless. You fell heavily into your chair, still staring at the absolutely gorgeous and thoughtful gift.

How did he know?!

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as your sister still didn’t answer the phone and your hand automatically reached for your necklace to toy with.

And that was when it hit you.

Your necklace; one you got from your sister during the period of your biggest obsession with the Divergence series. Two arrows in a circle pointing different directions, the symbol for a ‘divergent’ person. Your eyes wandered over the five circles of the bracelet – scales, an eye, hands connected, a flame, a tree –, an incredulous chuckle escaping you.

But--- you didn’t think he would notice. You didn’t even wear it all the time, rather often, yes, and yeah, perhaps you did have a bit of a bad habit of fumbling with it when nervous-

“Hey sis! What’s up?” Amber’s voice sounded cheerily from the microphone. You jumped in your seat, startled by her as she interrupted your musing. “Please tell me you’re still coming, because Harry wouldn’t shut up about his favourite chocolate chip.”

You cleared your throat, barely able to comprehend what she was talking about, too caught up in your head.

“I—hi. Uhm- I need help actually,” you finally stuttered and you could practically feel her frown even over the phone.

“Oh? Is everything okay? You sound… a little strange.”

“That’s-“ not wrong. You scanned the office and listened in for the tinniest noise, making sure you were still alone. “I’m at the office and I--eh, I found a gift for me.”

“Awww, a secret admirer? Nice!” Amber chuckled, then abruptly stopped. “…unless it’s a stalker. You don’t think you have a stalker, right? Is that why you called me, so I could tell George? He’s not on duty-“

This time you did roll your eyes at the mention of her husband who happened to be a police officer.

“No, Amber, I have no stalker as far as I know. I’m pretty sure I can recognize my boss’ handwriting at this point.”

Nothing but silence could be heard from the other end for a good minute. You bit your lip in anticipation of… something.

And then: “You’re shitting me.”

“Not really-“

“Holy mother of-!” your sister squealed loudly and you winced, instinctively withdrawing from the phone. “Your boss got you a Christmas present?! --Wait. Is it a Walmart card? Because if it is, then this call is pointless, because that’s boring as-“

“No, Amber, he—he gave me a bracelet,” you admitted softly, your gaze once again wandering over the said object. Beautiful. Fragile. Yours, apparently. What?

When Amber only responded with silence again, words suddenly spilled from your lips, all the mixed feelings you had about receiving the bracelet released, relief singing in your veins as you vented.

“And-and it’s actually really beautiful and--- it’s thoughtful, because it has all the fractions from Divergence on it? But not like something you buy for ten dollars, only paying for the copyright or whatever and the quality is shitty, no, I mean--- it looks pretty, eh, delicate.”

It did, awfully so, which was why you still couldn’t make yourself to touch it even if you really, really liked it and wanted to do nothing but to wear it for the rest of your damn life.

“And expensive. I-- I think it might be real silver and…” you wavered, almost scared to share your last observation out loud for it seemed impossible for it to be true. “Amber, you know I looked through a lot of Divergence-related goods so I would know. It- it doesn’t look familiar at all, it’s--- I think it might be custom-made.”

You choked on the last word, tasting so strange on your tongue as you couldn’t quite believe that you were saying it. You felt--- incredulous to put it simply… and touched and- absolutely bewildered.

Silence stretched in the follow-up to your rambling and you felt your brows drawing together.

“…Amber? You there?”

“Oh yeah, I’m here,” she assured you swiftly, mischief curling around the tone of her voice like a smirk on her lips you couldn’t see. “Just wondering how could you not tell me you started sleeping with him-“

“What?! No!” you protested instantly, straightening in the chair. “I’m not—I’m not his sugar baby or whatever! This is not a ‘thank you for letting me fuck you raw’ gift-“

“Not that you would complain from what I heard and saw-“ she hummed playfully.

She was right. But shush!

“Screw you!”

“George does, that’s why we have Harry in the first place,” she sassed you. “But… sis? What kind of a gift it is then?”

And wasn’t that the question.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well, you should, because from what you told me, you guys aren’t even friends. Nota bene, this isn’t exactly a gift you give to a friend,” she pointed out, addressing one of the million issues concerning the damn (gorgeous) bracelet.

“I-- I guess?” You were sure, in fact. This was something to give to a… well, to a lover, to a partner. “But- Amber, he doesn’t--- that’s not-“

“What did the note say?”

“Huh?”

“You said you recognized his handwriting,” she reminded you slowly as if speaking to a five-year-old. “What does the note say?”

You glanced at the note again noncommittally, remembering exactly what it said. Pretty much nothing. Definitely nothing to go on.

“Uhm… Thank you. Happy Holidays.”

There was a beat of silence, again. “That’s it?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Eloquent.” You rolled your eyes at her sarcastic tone. She should see him at court. True though, on personal level, he wasn’t exactly chatty. Unless he opened up a bit over a glass of whiskey--- anyway, she had a point, obviously. “What are you gonna do?”

That snapped you from your musing like a shot of life into your bloodstream.

“That’s why I’m calling! I should-- I should get him something too, right?” Right?! Absolutely. “Oh god, I hate last-minute shopping. And I don’t even have a fucking clue what to buy! Well, a good whiskey is always a safe bet I guess, but supporting his drinking habits doesn’t sound like a good idea. Plus, it’s kinda… impersonal with comparison to what he gave me.”

Though if there was one thing you learned about Andy Barber, it was that he could appreciate the high-quality liquor, so perhaps it wouldn’t have been as impersonal as one might think.

“Well, I don’t know him so I can’t really help, but what you got from him should definitely give you a clue.”

“A clue?” you parroted, confused.

“I don’t mean like a clue for what you should buy him. But… look, even if you didn’t suspect that it’s custom-made, which whoa, he has to pay a lot of attention to buy you something like this. Much more attention than you thought.”

“…okay?”

“He likes you, you dumbass! It doesn’t matter what you get him, he’ll be happy you got him anything in the first place!”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” you deadpanned, unsure which statement you were referring to. That he liked you or that you shouldn’t take care to choose something that would really bring him at least a little joy.

You tried your best to ignore how your heart skipped the beat at the former.

“Whatever. Harry’s throwing a hungry eye on me, I gotta go fix him a snack unless I want him to eat all the candy again. Good luck!”

“Amber!“ you called out in honest despair, panic rising in your chest, only to get no answer.

You pulled the phone from your ear to look at the screen, already knowing what awaited you.

Disconnected.

Fuck.

It seemed you were on your own. Wasn’t that wonderful?

You shot your sister a simple ‘I hate you’ text, the gears in your head already turning frantically in order to figure out what you could get Andy.  

Amber replied with a set of laughing emojis within seconds. Bitch, leaving you alone to deal with a situation like this! What a sister she was.

You sighed, admiring the delicate lines of the bracelet again, torn between indulgence and guilt. There was no questioning whether you should buy Andy something too.

Say yay for the last-minute shopping for a man out of your league and whom you had no idea what you should get.

You were utterly at loss, growing anxious not only about the difficult choice of a gift, but also about possible delivery, wondering what should you even tell him and when.

Maybe though…. just maybe, you were getting kinda excited about what you were about to do too.

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Three hours.

You spent almost three hours at the mall where you could barely breathe because of the crazy crowds and yet you were none the wiser; your excitement left you quickly, once again replaced by despair. It took you three hours and passing the lingerie shop four times, a shop with pieces on display that barely covered anything, intended for either bedroom games or a swimming pool, before it finally hit you.

You cursed under your breath, calling yourself an idiot in murmur loud enough to have few people around you look at you in surprise.

“Dumbass, I’m such a dumbass,” you continued your monologue as you fished out your phone, quickly scrolling through your contacts.

To say that the person on the other end was shocked to hear from you at this time of month and hour was an understatement.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Lee. I have… eh, a favour to ask…”

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You were being ridiculous.

Absolutely and utterly ridiculous as you stood on a modest porch in front of a small family house, the roof hiding you from the intrusive drizzle but not keeping you quite safe from the wind as you clutched your handbag to your side as if it was your lifeline, cursing yourself for not wearing a scarf in December.

Your nose was practically freezing, your cheeks burned from the wind and your hands were cold too, because you were stupidly underdressed; as if you haven’t lived in Portland your whole life.

But that wasn’t the main issue; an Uber dropped you off about five minutes ago and still, here you were, standing outside and trying to convince yourself to ring the bell.

The plan had been to finish packing a bag and leave around 10 p.m. to your sister’s house, where you would spend the night so you could be with her family on Christmas Day from the very beginning. But then Andrew fucking Barber, your fabulous boss, left a gift in your office, a breath-taking bracelet now sitting low on your right wrist, and it all went to hell.

Maybe you could still make it to your sister’s house – it was shortly after nine, your bag waiting on your bed, so maybe you should just call another Uber and be on your way. Maybe you could leave the silly envelope in the post-box just so you wouldn’t have to deal with Andy’s reaction; after all, he had chosen the same approach; cookies be damned, there would be more left for Harry then-

But you really, really wanted to thank him. And you might be shitting your pants, but the prospect of seeing him in a domestic environment, possibly more relaxed, perhaps nearing the man you had had the honour to see on those nights… you couldn’t make yourself to pass on that opportunity.

At the same time, you kept reminding yourself that Andy did not expect to see you tonight, he might not even be home – you were pretty sure a dim light was coming from the living room, the TV on probably, but yeah, you could keep lying to yourself – and that he might be grieving and genuinely might hate you for invading his privacy since you had to search his home address in the official documents.

Yeah, you definitely should just spin on your heels and-

“Oh for God’s sake,” you muttered under your breath and pressed the doorbell, your heart suddenly hammering in your ribcage as you realized there were no takebacks now. “Shit.”

Maybe you should just run. What if he had fallen asleep already and you just woke him up?! Oh, he was so going to be pissed and he might even show that emotion, screaming you down like he did one with that intern-

A scruffle on the other side of the door snapped you from your hopeless expectations and you sucked in a horrified breath.

And then the door slid open before you could react and you were certain you looked like a deer caught in the headlights, a semi-frozen deer to make the situation worse and--- there he was.

You quickly dropped your gaze, only then realizing how rude that was and that you should meet his eye no matter how much you did and did not want to do so at the same time. As you gaze travelled up, you found that a domestic Andy was everything you imagined he would be; black socks, loose dark grey sweats, pale t-shirt slightly wrinkled. One of his arms hung loosely by his side, the other still at the door-knob as you continued your inspection, gaze caressing the line of his bare forearm, reaching the sleeves that were hugging his biceps precisely. Broad shoulders, perfectly trimmed beard framing plush lips with the slightest hint of a curious smile.

You smiled awkwardly as your eyes met his watching you with interest, dimmed with a hint of a doze-off you must have woken him up from. You tried not to dwell on the inconspicuous redness surrounding his irises.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up!” you blurted out quickly, rewarded with a light shake of his head and a stifled yawn; subtle.

“You didn’t. Hi,” he greeted you, only to make you realize that 1. you forgot to say hi and 2. his post-nap voice was a thing from wet dreams-- which was definitely not relevant at that moment.

“Hi,” you offered unsurely, eyes roaming his face, searching for any trace of anger. All you found was bewilderment; if pleasant or not, you couldn’t tell.

“I’m sorry for barging in. I just… uhm- I wanted to thank you and-“

The hint of a smile on his lips grew a fraction, expression softening at your admission and before you could find your footing, he opened the door further, subtly extending his hand to usher you in.

Your heart skipped a beat, the strangest feeling tickling your gut, teeth sinking into your lower lip, the grip on your handbag growing stronger. Yet you accepted, taking two reluctant steps inside. The door clicked shut behind you, sealing whatever fate awaited you.

Attempting not to look too nosy, you turned back to Andy rather than scanning the hall.

Words got stuck in your throat. As tired as he looked, worn to a bone by everything but physical exercise, you couldn’t but marvel at what a handsome man he was, even without his smart suits and ties and neatly styled fluffy hair; it was still very fluffy, just more of a mess than a fashion statement.

God, wasn’t he beautiful.

He kept looking at you too in mute anticipation of something, appearing mildly lost just as you were, giving the impression of a man who couldn’t tell what to expect.

Your gaze locked with his, unyielding, a gorgeous trap and you knew you had to say or do something before your heart gave out entirely.

Your mouth opened, no words coming out and you cursed yourself, simply opening the bag and pulling out a Tupperware box with half the cookies you baked last night, practically shoving it to Andy’s capable hands.

He accepted the item with eyebrows shooting up once before settling back, eyes misting for a moment. His fingertips brushed yours as he took a firm hold of the box, the not-quite-there smile of his remaining on his lips.

He seemed perplexed.

You felt like an idiot.

“This feels so silly now,” you admitted with a sigh, realizing the absurdity of the situation only accented by the fact that you stood there in the hall of his home in your coat and high-boots, ridiculously overdressed in comparison to him.

“It’s not,” he whispered finally, forcing the corners of his mouth to rise higher. “Thank you. Didn’t know you baked. Should have figured.”

You shrugged. “Never came up.”

Something shifted in his expression as did in the air; you knew he sensed it too. The unspoken hung between you, that you meant not in your daily routine at the office, but on your private nights, so rare and precious, so desperately pretended to be non-existent the next morning.

Your gaze lowered as the silence fell on your pair again and you awkwardly shifted your weight from one leg to the other. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“So, uh-“

“Thank you for the bracelet. Really. It was-” you licked your lips, meeting his eyes again, so deep, so blue and somehow soft and you forgot what you were about to say. “Eh- I wasn’t expecting it. I-- I didn’t think you’d… notice. And--- care.”

His brows furrowed for a bit and he placed the box on the shoe rack next to him; an action he soon regretted you guessed, because his fingers went for his wrist as if he wanted to readjust his cufflinks, a nervous habit of his, only to meet bare skin. Good to know you weren’t the only one iffy in this conversation.

“But you liked it?” he asked almost shyly and the corners of your lips rose on instinct as did you right hand, the sleeve of your coat sliding down a fraction, enough to reveal the new accessory.  “Looks pretty on you.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers gently slid over one of the symbols, brushing over the sensitive skin of your wrist. His gaze returned to yours, a flicker of something heated in his eyes, calling butterflies to your stomach.

Lord have mercy.

“Thanks- uhm--- thank you. Here, I got you something too.” You quickly reached into the handbag again to hide how flustered you felt – for a different reason than awkwardness.

He had touched your wrist and you turned into a blushing mess. Fabulous. And to make the matter more humiliating, now a twinkle of amusement played in his irises.

“You gave me a plant. And cookies.”

“Yeah. Kinda? But that was more of a… gesture?” you offered reluctantly as you handed him the envelope. “I uh—this is probably stupid, but, uhm--- here.”

“Stop putting yourself down,” he muttered darkly, causing your cheeks to burn hotter. “Thank you. You didn’t have to get me anything.” Pulling out the firm colourful paper, he blinked a few times, seemingly surprised. Ha, you bet he expected a Walmart card! Instead, there was a voucher for five entrances to the swimming pool where your friend Lee worked at. “Oh. Thank you. That’s really nice of you.”

A stone the size of Texas fell from your stomach and you couldn’t help the sigh of relief. Andy seemed genuinely pleased by your choice of gift and you felt your whole body relax.

“It’s just… eh, just for half an hour each and you can pick them on a horizon of three months. I’m not sure how often you like going, so… uhm, my friend works at the place, so you just give her a call and it shouldn’t be a problem to book it for mornings right before the opening hours,” you explained lamely, earning a puzzled look.

“How did you know I liked going when no one’s there?”

That caused one corner of your lips twitch in slight amusement and your eyebrow arch, even if his reasons weren’t exactly funny; his cheeks flushed a hint of red, a sight to behold for more than one reason. It was nice to have the roles reserved, you making him feel flustered for once.

Really? The rather quiet lone-wolf Andy Barber, followed by reporters still, just asked you this? Cute.

“…that’s fair,” he said and for a brief second, you were afraid you had shared your thoughts out loud. But he didn’t look offended, so probably not. The self-awareness then. “Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m-eh, glad you like it.”

You stood there again, both smiling – a little reluctantly, a little soft – and once again you had no idea how to proceed.

What you did know was that you enjoyed talking to him, even if it was awkward like this. You enjoyed seeing him in his natural habitat, in his home, relatively relaxed. You thrived seeing more of this Andy Barber, just a handsome guy, not Andrew Barber, the hot-shot lawyer.

He was the first to break the silence, hesitantly gesturing further into the house.

“Would you—would you like to-“

YES! was what you brain screamed.

“Oh, I don’t want to be a bother…” was what you told him, mentally cuffing yourself on the head.

“You’re not,” Andy opposed lowly. The whisper of your name that followed made you shiver.

His gazed trailed all over your face, so intense you would swear he saw right into your soul and further. You felt naked, but for some reason not too vulnerable – Andy seemed to like what he saw, expression genuinely inviting and yet. Yet there was a subtle promise of this not being a friendly invite which was as exciting as unsettling. The air appeared the crackle and you found yourself yearning to taste the electricity on your tongue.

“May I?”

He beckoned to your coat, suddenly free hands already rising and all you could do was to nod, automatically placing your handbag on the floor and unbuttoning the garment. Once if fell open, revealing simple black jeggings and a light pink sweater, Andy sidestepped you, fingers sliding under the hem, cautiously skimming over the bare skin above your collarbones, leaving a burning sensation in their wake.

The warmth of his fingertips seeped into your flesh and yet you shuddered, goosebumps rising on your skin.

You watched Andy put your coat away with care, turning back to you torturously slowly. He filled all of your personal space, so close and too far. You weren’t sure when exactly the air turned so heavy in your lungs, but as your gaze travelled to his lips, not missing how his sought yours in return, you felt all the oxygen leave the room.

“Andy,” the word rolled off your tongue, nothing but a soundless breath of his name.

His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips again and back before he spoke, voice barely above a whisper, hoarse.  

“Am I imagining it?”

He didn’t have to say what and still you knew with absolute certainty that he was addressing the unbearable and delicious tension, the one that had been building and coming to life during those three nights you had spent talking in his office late--- and now it was back with smouldering intensity.

“You’re not.”

You shivered and gulped when he cautiously took a single little step further into your space, your gaze falling to his chest, lowering in sudden surge of the deep-rotted insecurity, whispering about your and his world being thousands of miles apart. And yet, your heart raced in anticipation, your hopes dizzyingly high that you might touch heaven, even if for a few moments.  

When his fingertips grasped your jaw, tough light and oh so careful, your eyelids fluttered close, already indulging in the sensation. God, his touch was so soft despite the roughness of his fingertips…

As if he wished to torture you or to indulge that sweet little moment before lips met lips, he stopped an inch from his destination, his breaths as wavering as yours, the words whispered straight into your mouth just a little broken.

“I’m fucked up.”

Your brain basked in blissful fog, but this got across, causing you to tense briefly.

You couldn’t deny what he was saying, you both knew he spoke the ultimate truth – well, you guessed. What had happened to him, having his life dismantled and then losing his family, that sort of thing was bound to leave a scar. Confirming it bluntly though, that felt unforgiving, only adding insult to injury.

“We all are,” you whispered instead, not only because you wouldn’t say ‘fucked up’, the words too harsh.

And it wasn’t trivializing the tragic turn his life had taken. It wasn’t downplaying the depth of his wounds. It wasn’t necessarily implying that you had been through something equally horrible either. Most importantly, it wasn’t you mocking him.

And somehow, he understood that; even if he could have interpreted it in every wrong way imaginable and shove you away, insulted, disgusted.

But no, in that fleeting moment that meant everything, Andy understood that this was your acceptance; this was you telling him that you were willing to try; take whatever he offered and give anything you could in return.

Finally, his lips brushed over yours, slightly chapped and oh so warm and delicious, withdrawing too soon, leaving you to savour the taste as your ran your tongue over your own lips. You inhaled shakily, overwhelmed by everything that was him, powerful, electrifying and then your hand was somehow on his chest, your palm laid over his racing heart, your fingers twitching as his ribcage expanded with a sharp inhale.

Blindly, your mouth searched his again, his whiskers tickling softly and scratching at once, a pleasant sensation on your sensitive skin as he grew bolder, and truly attached your lips in a kiss that made you feel lightheaded with the emotion poured into it. Your hand curled around his nape, an instinct to pull him closer, fingers toying with the short soft hair there, drawing a hum from within the expanse of his chest.

You granted him access to your mouth when he wordlessly asked, but it was him who retreated shortly after that, his heart now appearing as if in pain with its furious beats under your palm. His breaths started coming out short and it dawned to you what was wrong. How fast this could have felt to him, even if he was the one to start it.

‘I’m fucked up,’ he had said. Too caught in the moment, you hadn’t fully realized the extent of his words perhaps.

But you did now – at least a little better than before.

So when he rested his forehead against yours and a breathless ‘sorry’ slipped from his lips, you shook your head lightly and planted a kiss on his cheek, hand still on the back of his head, fingers running over his scalp in a hopefully soothing motion.

“I’ve got you, Andy. You lead.”

You had no strength to keep him close when he pulled his face away, your eyes snapping open in fright that you had said something terribly wrong.

But Andy’s cerulean eyes were big and glassy, grateful and softly speaking about him being… moved by your proposition. Your heart felt like it just grew twice its size, too big to fit into your chest at what a breath-taking picture he was.

The next thing you knew, he dropped a chaste kiss to your forehead and pulled you into his arms, an almost protective embrace, kissing the top of your head for a good measure and you melted against his large frame, smiling into t-shirt.

“Thank you,” he murmured breathlessly into your hair and your smile widened, remembering the note he had left with the exquisite gift that had started everything that led you right here into this moment.

“Happy Holidays.”

Thank you for reading! I’ve been sitting on this since the beginning of damn November. I hope you enjoyed.

It was my first (and maybe last) time writing Andy, so I hope it was alright. Feedback always appreciated.

P.S. – sorry if the nosy reporters thing offended you.

P.P.S. - …I know, the prompt was veeery loosely filled. Shush.

Pretty divider by whismicalrogers.

#happyhoelidays2020 #andy barber x reader #andy barber imagine #andy barber x you #defending jacob #post defending jacob #andy barber #holiday fic #christmas fic #andy barber fluff #andy barber angst #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber fanfic #fanfiction #challenge fic #conundrum #anika ann

[ivanabaqero]

Since I just returned from rehab, here is my.. idk, emotional journey on my chronic illness + mental health or wtf ever u wanna call this. This is the most personal thing I have ever posted but I need to get it out. 

Before you read, I guess I gotta tw this for suicidal thoughts and descriptions of my symptoms.

I don’t even know where to start. It feels like all of this happened in one week and at the same in a span of several years. But no idea, time just kept passing and more shit happened. 

Last summer was pretty cool. I worked hard and made a fuckton of money - not really considering the consequences of the fact that I overstepped the boundaries of my body every single day. Either way, I regret nothing it was pretty cool and another experience I am glad I could make. Well, but when I came back home, I started to notice a few things. Among some weird shit nobody wants to know about, I noticed a change of my eyesight. There was a cloud right on the vision on my left eye and it got blurry. At first, it started with minutes and then it passed. But I knew my body responded to exhaustion in an odd way so I let it slide. As doctors have instructed me, only when it lasts over 24 hours it’s an actual episode/flare and I should go to the ER -- to elaborate this further, I have been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 2015 and have not had any bigger flares since, only the regular symptoms like fatigue, etc.

 I got treated with the regular medication; cortisone. This shit gave me some energy boost for a few days and then, things went back to somewhat normal. The blurry thing in my eye has changed into a weird ass thing called nystagmus. Basically, my eyeball was twitching. It was better than the blurry sight and my doctors told me that physical therapy was the only thing to help me with that, and up until some weeks ago this didn’t stop, at the moment it’s gotten way better though - a relief because that caused me mad headache and made reading really difficult.

Anyway, that was the smaller problem. A few months later, in December around Christmas, I have gotten really weak and have been constantly dizzy. As usual, I let it slide for some days. Up until that point when I couldn’t move from the bed or look at anything else but right up at the ceiling or I would get fucking dizzy. Back to the ER again, the same procedure began. Cortisone  resulted in a massive push of energy that lasted for some days, but after that, all the symptoms slowly returned. Not only that, but it started to get worse. I have been dragging and limping with my left foot since months but I still managed somehow to walk and get around. In January I had a major panic attack when I noticed that I couldn’t walk on my own to my doctors, which is merely an 8 minute walk away. I had to call my mom to bring me back home because I couldn’t go any step more. My doctor sent me to the ER but the next day, I decided that I was fine and being over dramatic and everything was perfectly fine. The whole thing kept getting worse, I could not walk anymore, I kept feeling dizzy all the time unless I was staring at only one spot: my laptop or phone. So that was what I did, ignore my symptoms. Adding to my chronic fatigue, dizziness, inability to walk and my eye problem, a sensitivity problem spread all over my body from the chest downwards. My hands hurt and my fingers cramped up and got stiff, I lost all feeling in my feet. I had an appointment at the neurologist thank god, or else, I would have let it gotten worse and kept telling myself that I am being over dramatic and nothing is actually wrong. Delusional? Maybe. I don’t understand myself there either.

The neurologist decided to keep me in hospital for a whole ass week, getting cortisone every day. I got in there with the ambulance in a wheelchair and left out of there walking again. Not perfectly, but I thought things were looking up. Of course, once the high dose of steroids begins to wear off and you slowly come down from it, you first catch sleep. Steroids this time have been given to me five days in high dose instead of three and in addition, I had to take pills that I had to reduce slowly over another two weeks. I did not sleep in those three weeks more than 3-4 hours per night and then I finally could. To make this more understandable; my brain was tired but my body was buzzing. I also had a tremor that has still not entirely left me as a wonderful side effect from the medication. 

That time stationary they finally put me back in a MRT and found 2 bigger new lesions. One of them in my cerebellum and the other in my spinal cord. Each of them causing me all those massive problems. Back at home I had physical therapy every day, but despite all of it, I had to rely on a wheelchair. I got my wheelchair in march and named him Otto because he is the best man ever. Next time in hospital, I was mentally and physically just fucking done and tried to just ignore how much my mental health was going downhill along with my body, the neurologist offered me stationary rehab at a very well known center where they treat several physical as well as mental illnesses. I said yes, and luckily got a place in July.

The initial plan was to stay there for four weeks, but the doctors suggested to extend to six. I did. And good that I did. I made slow progress. Very slow. To imagine, in twenty minutes at the first day I could barely walk 130m with four  breaks in between, with walking aid and what not - and my last day I made 640m in the same time with no breaks. I know this doesn’t sound like a lot but fuck -- I made it out of a fucking wheelchair. I am walking again. Not perfectly or any good, but my legs are used for their purpose again; to get me through this world. For someone who loves hiking and going for little walks alone, this was such a big deal to just not be able to anymore. 

The day I had the panic attack was the day I realized that in 2015 I made a promise to myself that if I ever have to rely on other people, I would end it. But I felt selfish for not wanting to end it. I felt selfish  for wanting to live and being a burden to people. I know, none of this is my fault and I am the first to give good advice, but am I good at handling my own shit? Absolutely not. 

With all the physical therapy I did for six weeks every day, I also had a psychologist that helped me understand myself better and deal with the trauma this experience brought me. I have to find another psychologist at home as well, because I didn’t feel the one I have helped me at all. I had to make a lot of promises to myself, such as accepting and asking for help and that it’s no shame in doing so. I feared losing my independence and I still do. But fuck, this experience was an eye opener in so many ways. I made new friends in rehab as well, which was one of the coolest things. And I got hit on by two attractive men - can you believe? I was in a wheelchair, dressed like absolute shit and not making any kind of deal of how I look! But yeah, my interest wasn’t really there to get involved in anything. I’ve got a lot of love to give but I need to give it to myself rather than pour it out on someone else.

I learned so many lessons, about my body and about my mind. My brain is an idiot and I have so many fears I was never even able to see until now. I thought optimism could beat everything and well... while it helps me a lot to get through every day life, every now and then I just need a slap in the face to look at things in another light. Not everything is fine if you tell yourself it is, no, you are not over reacting and you are allowed to feel sorry for yourself when life is dealing you a bad card. It doesn’t matter that other people have it worse -- it doesn’t mean your own shit is any less valid. And with that, I am going to wash my face and stop crying. I am still in a shock of reality state because I am  back at home now and everything is different. And I got to admit, I feel a little lonely. But I don’t want to reach out to my old friends at the moment with whom I felt like the “sick friend”. I want more friends in similar positions as me so I don’t have to feel bad for... well, feeling bad, and I don’t want to hear any more optimism monologues from healthy people who have absolutely no idea what it is like to have chronic pain, fatigue and overall; an illness. Whether it be mental or physical.

If you really read all of this, thank you. There was no need to, but I appreciate it. I honestly just needed to let it out. Because I haven’t done so properly since all of that started. 

#shush vanana #uhh #no tags i am lazy

[vtforpedro]

long, long health update - tw in tags please read them

I am going to speak very frankly about suicidal ideation; please don't read further if this is triggering for you ;3; but please know that I love you I had my follow-up appt with my neuropsych on monday to go over my results and whatnot. it was virtual, and I was in the middle of a head episode and I told her I wasn't doing well, but within about 5-10 minutes, she was saying I should probably go to the ER lkajflaj I guess it looked pretty bad lmao anyway I told her all the reasons I couldn't. medical trauma, being dismissed b/c I have doctors who manage my headaches, and I know it's not life-threatening even if it is 10/10 agonizing, so why are you here. they're so dismissive. she said that they have medication to possibly help break the cycle of constant migraines but I've been treated with those before and they didn't do shit migraines are secondary to iih. it's the iih that needs to be fixed ._. she said I still deserved to not suffer and that the ER is very strict about keeping covid patients away from other patients and I didn't have the heart to tell her they intubated a covid patient 10-15 feet away from me last time I was in an ER 😭 anyway so the results. she said she wasn't worried about anything going on that was concerning or indicating something wrong in my brain. I DID score quite a bit lower for someone my age on information processing (which is exactly what I said I was struggling with to my two neuros who were both like ehhh) and some issues with memory but they weren't super specific and so it could be something neurological, could be my migraines and constant agony lmao, could be my Emotional State. could be all of them at once, I suppose ;) she went into more detail about some of these things but it was the two questionnaires I filled out that were HNNN. so once all the data is entered from like 300 questions it shows a good look into my personality and perceptions and all that and it makes a cool little graph (OR SO I THOUGHT). the kind that looks like mountain peaks. so she points at the one that is waaay higher than the rest and nearly touching the top of the box and she's like 'do you see this one' me: yeah 😬 her: this is your feelings and ideations about suicide me: 😬 😩 😬 her: when I see a score this high, I stop what I'm doing and I call the police to have them escort you to a hospital me: 😬😬😬😬😬 her: but I didn't do that. because when we spoke in office you told me you felt this way and why you don't do it. you told me it's something you've lived with for a long time and the pain you are suffering is what makes it so bad. and I trust you me: 😭😭😭 okay her: do you see this line down here? this is people who have suicidal ideation recorded on this test. you scored 98% higher on suicidal ideation compared to people reporting suicidal ideation HNNNNNN. she said it probably wasn't surprising to me and asked me if I was safe again and all that. I assured her I was and said in my previous appointment; I've had suicidal thoughts since I was like 12? maybe earlier. there have been very few times in my life not surrounded by abuse and trauma so I'm never really free of it. I've had four traumatic incidents causing increasingly horrible episodes of ptsd in nine years. all through my 20s. still here woo, lol and she said she knew that and had a patient not long after my first appointment who had similar circumstances in their life. and they told her it's almost a comfort having it. cause I was saying it's in the back of my mind at all times and I won't do it, but yeah, it's always there. anyway she said they said the same thing; it's always there, always in the background as 'hey I'm an option!' even though we aren't going to harm ourselves. it's a comfort knowing there is an option even if we plan on never using it? idk it just spoke to me and I felt it in my soul we talked about some emotional stuff after and I cried and it was a thing. it felt really good to speak to a psychologist who, just as she was in the first appointment, seemed genuinely concerned and wanted to help

me. I told her I was ready for therapy and she said she'd already looked for therapists for me lkasjdlkja and gave me a group that I emailed yesterday. I don't think they'll take my insurance but she said to message her through the portal if they don't and she'll try to find someone who does I don't remember if I mentioned it, but since she knew about the head shit before I met her, she dimmed her office lights without asking if I needed it and like as soon as we started the virtual visit, she leaped up and dimmed them and said she should've thought about it before the appt 😭 (I keep my brightness really low on my computer and use the warming feature 24/7 on comp and phone and my apt is really dimmed but it still helped a lot when she did it) she kept saying 'you did nothing wrong. it was the choice of others to do what they did. you don't deserve to carry their choices. you deserve to be able to hand it back to them. you don't deserve to be in pain. you did nothing wrong. you deserve to be free of what they did and you deserve to not suffer in such physical pain' I'm so wary of doctors but I really like her and I feel fortunate to have been referred to her ;3; speaking for a long time and especially emotionally is hard for me, so I might try to do two sessions a month once I find a therapist and see if I'm ok with that. trying to keep everything virtual while delta is out there I read her report and her official diagnosis is uhh really strong for major depressive disorder, severe. and severe ptsd with disassociative symptoms so!!! I claimed both of those on my disability application and the person handling my claim told me when I had this appt to call and let her know because she wanted the info. I signed a release the day I was there when I told my neuropsych that cause MH stuff is different than other medical records. she said she faxed it to the woman handling my disability application but I was gonna call her and ask if she received it and also tell her I have a new neuro so she will probably request his stuff too I called today and her voicemail box is full so lol try again later today's been awful. last night was horrible. got a bill for over $800 from my colonoscopy/endoscopy even though I asked numerous times if insurance was covering it and was told yep, every penny. so I was on the phone with insurance and the surgery center for 45 minutes. insurance seemed confused af but the agent I spoke with got some help from people who handle this stuff I guess finally she told me not to pay it, they're going to send them a letter to get it sorted (idk if this means I won't have to pay it at all or if they're going to try to make it that way. but I think govt insurance, which is what I have, works differently. like doctors kinda have to follow what they say vs. the other way around) and not worry about it for the next 30 days. I'm still gonna worry about it lmao they used a nice scare tactic on the bill that this was the 'LAST AND FINAL NOTICE' despite the fact they've never sent me anything else. my mom and the insurance agent said nah that's just what they do to scare people into paying fuckin love america <3 land of the free. the american dream! greatest country on earth 💜🖕💜 I just don't want it to go to collections and have to fight credit bureaus to get it off my credit so it's not destroyed |: anyway my head hit like 10/10 bad while I was on the phone cause of the talking a lot and trying to PROCESS INFORMATION and stress and also the fucking hold music, which I have to hear in some way b/c I gotta know when they're back on the line hnnnnn bad day. it's 1pm and bad, bad, bad day. bad month all around. I want this shit to stop anyway. I'm sorry about the suicidal ideation talk, but it's important to talk about that stuff. it can get severe but it can also get better. it does, eventually, even if it comes and goes. it always does get better I'm sorry, I also really needed to get this down somewhere. feel like I'm going to explode emotionally AND physically and I need to talk about it. hopefully

soon I'll have a therapist to talk to so I can get a lot of this stuff worked on. got my whole life to chat about so it'll probably take a long time but I'm willing to let it lmao therapy doesn't usually work for me anymore but idk I've had a lot of shit happen in less than two years so maybe it will this time I'm trying! I really am trying if you read this rambling monster, thank you. love you all and please stay safe

#vtforpedro personal #tw suicidal thoughts #tw suicidal ideation #tw suicide #tw mental health #tw depression #tw anxiety #tw mental illness #personal #medical #also she is obligated by law to report suicide risks and right now that's to the police so I can't blame her for that #we desperately need crisis intervention rather than fucking asshole cops but that's just what it is right now