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thanksjro · 4 years

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Zero Point, a Last Stand of the Wreckers prose story- I Sure Hope You Like Eye Imagery

Ooh, an artsy start to our prose this go around.

This story takes place after the events of Last Stand of the Wreckers, with our dear friend Springer well into his Overlord-induced coma.

Roadbuster is a gentle soul, when he’s not busy ripping people’s spines out.

Roadbuster’s been put in charge of the Debris station since Springer’s out of commission. It’s boring. He’s bored. He has a routine he follows, but there’s only so much grave-visiting/security-checking/weapon-building/eyeball-cleaning a guy can do within a 120 hour day before it becomes less of a routine and more of a compulsive habit.

Springer’s eyes are a specific shade of blue known as Matrix Blue- supposedly a marker for being Matrix Compatible. Considering that Senator Shockwave had to go and get multiple guys some nonconsensual plastic surgery to make sure they could actually fit the Matrix, I’m going to go ahead and say that that’s some bunk someone made up to hype up the mysticism of Primehood.

Springer’s obviously in a bad way, and it’s not looking like things are going to get any better. You can tell, because this is the point where his internal monologue kicks in, reflecting on just what it’s like to die, and his past. Sure hope they don’t have any vats filled with corrodia gravis on this space station.

Back before the war was The War, Springer was young and naive, but his boobs were just as awesome as they are now.

Springer became slightly disenchanted as his time on the front lines went on, thinking that he needed to do more to help the Autobot Cause. He decided he wanted to join the Wreckers, though he knew next to nothing about them at the time, and everything that he’d heard probably should have sent him running in the opposite direction. Decepticons caught by Impactor and friends would kill themselves in the middle of the street if they managed to escape.

But we’re dealing with a mind that’s been shaped by a civil war, now aren’t we? Impressions are warped for Autobots, because Decepticons are evil, and therefore they deserve that sort of thing, now don’t they? Nobody is immune to propaganda.

Springer first met Impactor at Sherma Bridge, where he saw him punch through a ship’s windshield, spear the driver’s head with his drill-hand, and then land the thing in front of a memorial statue. Gee, what a guy.

Springer, even though he’d seen all this and was feeling a little wary about this whole situation- which is a very valid reaction to witnessing a murder, no matter who’s been killed- decides to get put on the list of reservists for the Wreckers.

It’s amazing they even bother with Rung at all, isn’t it?

Springer’s interview is a violent one, because this is the Wreckers, and we don’t ever go half-mast on anything- Impactor falls out of the fucking sky in the middle of a huge battle and tells Springer that he’ll be coming with him. And that was that.

Oh hey, it’s the IDW2 eating chairs. And hello, Kaput, it’s nice to see you again.

Kaput’s diagnosis is as bleak as it is cryptic- Springer’s probably for sure going to die. Kaput seems to only exist to tell people they’re dying or dead, unless they’re the once and future Optimus Prime.

Kup’s pretty bummed out about this whole thing, pacing like a 1950’s father in the birth and delivery waiting room. Kaput doesn’t seem to notice, or is too lost the the medical sauce to realize that him going on about how they fixed that weird humming noise Springer’s legs used to make is making folks anxious.

Roadbuster asks just what exactly’s wrong, if they fixed everything from his ripped-off face to his weird humming legs. Kaput doesn’t like confrontation, so he blathers on for a bit before admitting that they haven’t found the zero point.

Roberts, how many times are you going to do this to Kup? First Rodimus, now Springer- did Kup bully you in primary school? I’m starting to get concerned.

That was six months ago, and while Roadbuster had been polite about it at the time, all the nothing that’s happened since has made him feel a little less kindly toward Kaput.

Okay, who’s ready to find out why doctors and mechanics aren’t the same thing on Cybertron? Because I sure am!

So they have to account for the soul, is what you’re saying. Is this about having some sort of bedside manner, because the mental aspect of healing has to be taken into account? Or is it more to do with the bizarre implications of the soul being physical as opposed to metaphysical, and therefore capable of being destroyed? The ethical conundrum that the spark presents is fascinating.

If a break happens between these two nerves, it can cause the energy of the spark to be redirected away from the points it’s meant to go, like a heart with a hole in it. Yes, the blood is still inside the body, but it’s not inside the veins and is therefore useless, and in fact is directly harming the body.

Roadbuster, after reflecting on the grim reality Springer is currently living, breaks out Wreckers: Declassified. This isn’t reading for personal enjoyment or ego-stroking however- Roadbuster actually greatly dislikes reading about himself in Fisitron’s datalogs. No, this is more of a last-ditch effort to save Springer’s life.

Roadbuster learned to read to act on a theory brought up by Rung- he and Kup are friends, on account of both of them being very old- that the spark is psychosomatic in nature. It can be influenced by intense emotional responses to potentially heal the physical self. They’re willing to try this, because nobody really knows how exactly a spark works, so Rung’s guess is as good as any.

Story time for the evening picks up on a chapter in a story called “The Wreckers’ Air Attack”, getting right into where Megatron’s about to shoot Impactor in the back of the head. But not without pontificating first.

This is so over the top, so romantic- and I’m talking Romantic as in the literary style. I don’t even know what to say here. Luckily Impactor does.

Fisitron may not know what this whole scene is about, but we as the reader do. The hardcover trade edition of Last Stand was published roughly a six months after “Chaos Theory”, where we got THIS exchange:

If this is what Megatron’s poetry is like, it’s no wonder Impactor isn’t a fan. Purple prose out the wazoo, incredibly flowery imagery- I’m sure there’s an audience for all that, but I doubt Impactor’s a part of that crowd.

Megatron is distracted just long enough for Springer to descend upon him on the sky sled, like a murderous Santa Claus, jumping off so the sled can slam into Megatron and send him careening down the side of the mountain.

That’s taken care of. What next?

It’s at this point that Roadbuster checks what chapter they’re on, because he’s really not the biggest fan of Fisitron’s writing style. Guess he isn’t one for fanfiction, or adverbs. Turns out, each of these datalogs are less blog posts and more fully-fledged books. Every single one of them.

Roadbuster’s feeling kind of hopeless at this point, and it’s not hard to understand why; there hasn’t been any sort of response from Springer at all in all the months he’s been reading to him.

He considers the contents of the only datalog he hasn’t cracked open yet, outright skipping over it every time- #113, the one about Pova. He doesn’t ever read it because it’s full of false information, as was made very clear in Last Stand #5.

Springer joined the 17th iteration of the Wreckers, after a hazing ritual so brutal, it required the addition of an amendment to the Misuse of Weapons Act. Horrifying. None of the original members of the Wreckers had survived the war by the point Springer had been brought on- except for Valve, who does not count because he left the Autobots to go be a Decepticon, a fact which will never be expanded upon, much like Eugenesis Skywarp having been an Autobot for some friggin’ reason.

Springer, once on the inside, realizes that maybe the Wreckers are a little too dark a shade of gray for him to be able to sit comfortably with- the battering of POWs just a little too enthusiastically, the bending of the rules a little too sharply, the blatant disregard for the Tyrest Accord being smoothed over with an “oopsie doodle!” It’s looking like the Wreckers aren’t completely on the straight and narrow; shocking, I know.

Still, he doesn’t really see the point in arguing with it, instead just trying to make sure that he’s not the one doing the maiming and such. Complicity is not the answer to this sort of behavior, Springer.

When Squadron X came onto the scene, Impactor was so upset at the perceived slight- because obviously if Squadron X was the Decepticons answer to the Wreckers, and they were a bunch of murderous assholes, what did that make the Wreckers?- that he made it everyone else’s problem. The Wreckers WOULD destroy Squadron X. It was his new goal in life.

This went exactly where you’d expect such a singleminded hate-boner to go.

After the execution of eight POWs who should have been let go due to being on sovereign territory, Springer decided that enough was enough and called the cops on Impactor. High Command had been itching to get this guy back under control, so things moved pretty quickly after that.

Springer resigned from the group afterwords, but then everyone started coming out of the woodwork, pestering him to come back and LEAD them, because they were worried about being shut down. The likes of Roadbuster and Whirl don’t exactly make for good executives. After thinking about it, and after the trial, of course, he agrees to come back on as the leader of the Wreckers. So began a new era.

Back in the real world, Roadbuster’s trying to read the falsified account of Pova, but just can’t go through with it. He decides to tell Springer the truth, if only so he won’t die with a bunch of bullshit bouncing around in his brain.

Springer did so many drugs in Eugenesis, he BECAME drugs in Last Stand.

So Springer is apparently the greatest hype man to ever live, as he pumped everyone up so much about getting Squadron X, they just went completely feral the moment they saw their ship. Squadron X wasn’t even doing anything, and the Wreckers were frothing at the mouth.

When this lead to the inevitable, and Springer was trying to break down the door to prevent Impactor from racking up eight war crimes in under two minutes, Roadbuster and Whirl had a little moment. They knew what had happened, they knew that they couldn’t stop it, they knew that Springer couldn’t stop it, and they were pleased as punch about it.

Once Impactor had been arrested, the other Wreckers were worried that they’d be the next to get ratted out. To try and prevent this, they created a false narrative to lure Springer back into the group, placing him in a position of leadership to soothe his worries about the others having been complacent in the murder of Squadron X.

Roadbuster finishes off this horrifying admission with a non-apology, complimenting Springer on being a good leader. Then he notices that Springer’s got a tear in his eye.

That’s a [ tair ] , not a [ teer ]. It took me a second, too. English is a nightmare of a language.

He tries to buff the tear out, manually peeling back Springer’s eyelid to do it, only to find that maybe Rung wasn’t completely full of shit after all.

#transformers #jro #last stand of the wreckers #zero point #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #prose writing #wreckers trilogy

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blessyourhondahurley · 5 years

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October 27 - I Got the Itch

[Read on AO3]

"Hold still, please, Dean."

"Man, I'm tryin'. This stool ain't exactly comfy. How much longer is this gonna take?"

Dean is stripped to the waist, with a ratty towel draped across his back and over his shoulders. He's sitting on a low three-legged stool in the Bunker's main bathroom. Castiel, ex-Angel of the Lord, is methodically going over his head with a literal fine-toothed comb.

Because Dean Winchester caught the cooties.

"Still can't fuckin' believe I got head lice from a dirty motel pillow," he grumbles as Cas continues his work. "How 'm I supposed to deal with the fact that there's tiny creatures living on me??"

"There are always tiny creatures living on you," Cas replies. "Colonies of beneficial bacteria in your gut. Microbes on the surface of your skin which break down compounds in your sweat to produce the complex natural scent of your body. Mites that live in your eyebrows and eyelashes, which--"

"Buddy, unless you want me to go take a two-hour shower with napalm, do not finish that thought." Dean shudders, and closes his eyes. "Ugh, now I can feel things crawling all over me."

"That is purely a psychosomatic reaction, I assure you. None of the organisms that live on and in you are large enough for you to be aware of their movements.” He glares down at Dean. “You, on the other hand, are very large, and you are moving much too much. I'm almost finished combing through your hair. Just be still for a few more minutes."

"Fine." He sighs and wills himself to relax. He focuses on the rhythm of Cas's hands moving around his head, each of Dean's hairs passing on its own through the small metal comb. Gradually, he lets the sensation lull him into a drowsy half-haze.

"There." Cas's voice cuts through his distraction, and Dean's brain stumbles back to alertness.

"We done for the day?" he gruffs out, squirming again on the unyielding surface of the stool.

"Yes, we're all done with the comb. I found nothing this time, not even any dead eggs. You'll need just one more treatment with the shampoo, first thing tomorrow morning, and as long as you're very careful to coat every bit of your hair with the medicine, you can consider yourself cured. We never have to do this again." Cas offers him a triumphant smile, but there's a dimness around his eyes, a disappointment that doesn't match his words.

And Dean... He feels it too. Despite the inconvenience and the discomfort of the treatments, not to mention the gross-out factor of getting lice in the first place, it's been... Nice. Really nice. All this past week, he and Cas have spent half an hour a day right here, doing this. Dean has sat on this stool and Cas has stood over him, so close that Dean could feel the warmth of his body, smell the soap on his skin. And then Dean has been allowed, no, required to hold very still and let Cas touch him for thirty blissful minutes. He realizes, belatedly, that an itchy head had been a trifling price to pay for that privilege, that closeness, something he would most likely never experience with Cas again.

“Uhh...” Floored by this realization, and wanting to keep them close like this for a bit longer, he flails about for something to say next. “Are you sure I'm all clear? Maybe we should keep checking for a few more days? Better safe than sorry?” He considers lying, saying that his head still itches to try to trick Cas into continuing their sessions. But the thought of using deception to wheedle more one-on-one time with his friend turns his stomach. If Cas isn't interested in him that way, Dean isn't going to be able to bamboozle him into changing his mind.

But what if Cas is interested? Dean's sure he hadn't imagined the sadness in those pretty blue eyes just now. He reaches out to grab his friend's wrist as he's turning away to tidy up the bathroom counter. “Hey, um...” Dean begins. “Thanks for helping me out with all this.”

“Of course, Dean.”

“I mean it, Cas. I hate that I got fuckin' infested at some cheap flophouse, but this? Us, in here, every day? This has been good. I've liked it. So, thank you.”

Nervous, he pauses to lick his lips, and he notices the way Cas's eyes flick down to his mouth and stay focused there a couple of beats too long. When the erstwhile angel returns his gaze to Dean's, there's a light flush on his cheeks. It's a clear enough signal, and Dean decides to go for it. He leans forward and brushes their lips together in a light caress. It's only an almost-kiss, one that he could still maybe explain away as friendly affection if he had to. Then he leans back and lets Cas decide what happens next.

Cas huffs a soft laugh, half incredulous and half giddy. Then he grabs both ends of the towel that's still draped around Dean's shoulders and hauls him in close. This time the kiss is indisputable, and it moves way past friendly a few seconds in. Dean's busy getting acquainted with the taste of his best friend's tongue when a twinge from his lower back reminds him he's still sitting on that crappy stool. There are better places they could be doing this. Reluctantly, he breaks the kiss.

“So, I need to change the sheets on my bed one more time now that the treatment's over. Do you wanna come and... Help me with that?”

“I would love to.”

“Awesome.” Dean pecks him on the lips one more time, then drags him down the hall to his room.

#destiel #destiel fanfic #first kiss

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wwwafflewrites · 4 years

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Five Times Sherlock Shrugged Off John, and One Time He Couldn't

3. PTSD

John was never sure of the extent of what the war had done to his mental health. At first, his therapist pinned it as post-traumatic stress disorder. After the battlefields and his scarring injuries, it seemed realistic. But then, John met the Holmes brothers, and they turned the soldier 180 degrees away from his therapist's claim. They told him that he missed the war and adrenaline. He was addicted to the action and the race.

John had no doubt both were true to an extent, yet he questioned both theories. As a doctor, self-diagnosis was his natural go-to. Perhaps that was how he coped, and maybe it helped to see himself as a client and not as a victim.

He had always been dependent on the adrenaline rushes. It's what had drawn him to the rank of an army doctor. He'd been in the medical field at the time, and the army seemed like a reasonable position. He definitely missed the war for the thrill and action.

But there was also another side of John. The side of John whose leg limped when he walked, or whose arm throbbed sorely when recalling the battlefield. The John who woke up nearly crying after a sickening nightmare of recalling a bullet lodging within his skin. The John whose eyes darkened at a mere reminder of those days.

John was a complicated man, no matter what others informed him. Even through all the suffering of war, John could still fire a gun with a steady hand and he could overlook his psychosomatic limp in an intense chase. This was possible simply because Sherlock influenced him, manipulated him. He was a genius, after all. Real life was a game to Sherlock Holmes, so he dissociated easily from most emotions linked to particular cases. He presented John with the facts, so that's what John hung onto.

In fact, Sherlock had managed to mend most of John's war trauma just by busying his life with awkward situations and perplexing cases to focus on. John almost forgot his past life when he began to revolve around his new role in participating in crime solving and holding the title of Sherlock's only best friend.

And although John thrived upon a good adrenaline kick, he couldn't ignore the signs of PTSD, however slight. Because there was only one thing Sherlock would never cure, and that was his inevitable negative mental reaction to the sound of fireworks.

Fireworks had always been a trigger point to John, which utterly confused him. He’d had bombs strapped onto him by the psychopath Moriarty, watched a landmine go off in the Hounds of Baskerville case, and had a gun to his head in the Scandal of Bulgaria. Yet fireworks set him off. John loathed the crackling of colors that lined the sky.

John was at edge on New Year's Eve. As the hours crept up to midnight, something within him grumbled sickly. His anxiety reigned him inside.

The first time John had learned of this trigger was before he had ever met Sherlock Holmes. There had been a fireworks show with a new date, standing in the dew of the grass patiently. Before John even had time to process the cracks of the fireworks above, he was back in the battlefield.

The experience was not one John wanted to recall, so he focused and assigned himself a simple task: making tea. Making tea had always managed to calm John's nerves. The light, fresh, orchid fragrance soothed the night air. It never failed to wash away his worries as the warm aromas melted into the flat.

It was only a few hours before midnight struck, so the flat was asleep. Only the streetlight that filtered through the windows allowed moonlight to illuminate the corners of the flat. John sipped his tea and tiptoed to the living room and he let memory guide him down the hall.

John froze when he noticed Sherlock's unmoving silhouette on the couch; his hands were praying under his chin with his feet propped up onto the armrest. It was unlikely he was asleep, though his eyes were closed. John considered retiring to his bedroom, but he continued his way to his chair and taste his tea.

“You're up late.” Sherlock hummed.

John shifted in his seat, “Yes.”

Sherlock peeked an eye open, observing John. He was rather tense, gripping his tea close to his chest. Usually, John's default stance was his soldier posture, and not so… slouchy. “Something on your mind?” Sherlock inquired.

John took another drink of his tea, forcing a passive expression. He failed. “New years spirit.” John offered tautly.

Sherlock gave a wary glance. Something about the way John replied didn't settle with the detective. Perhaps he could relieve John of this with a case. He cleared his throat. “Well, Lestrade suggested I observe the town before midnight. Fireworks tend to cover gunshots, and we will need to watch for potential shootouts. We might even get ourselves a case. Care to accompany me?”

John was surprised, to say vaguely, though not pleasantly. The pit of his stomach folded in dread. “Oh, sure,” was his strenuous response.

As Sherlock left the living room with narrowed his eyes, contemplating what was bothering John. Although nothing registered as potentially bothersome. Sherlock would need to dig into the topic further, though preferably not now. Sherlock was determined to distract John. After all, Sherlock owed him immensely for past experiences he'd endured.

John left to the kitchen. He steeled himself as he discarded the rest of his tea. There was nothing to fear about fireworks. He had encountered much worse is his life, so he wasn't going to allow a little explosion to handicap him. He was a soldier.

John had always suspected his reason for dreading fireworks was for the random timing. John had never fancied storms for this reason, as well. The thunder got to his head. With a gun, you knew where it was. You knew who fired it. You knew you were under attack, or at least, in John's mind.

It was a messy concept.

Sherlock was wrapping his scarf securely around his neck and proceeded to pull up his collar. He was still uncertain to the cause of John's tension, and it annoyed him endlessly.

John was failing to ignore Sherlock's prying eyes, constantly shifting his stance. He adjusted his posture and straightened his ever-failing mask.

Sherlock saw right through it.

“Prepare yourself John, keep your eyes peeled for suspicious movement. The firework show should be in a matter of minutes.”

Don’t remind me, John thought dizzily. His breathing was stressed now, with each respiration as a slight panic and a wish that he’d outright refused the case. Regret bubbled in his gut. He felt rather faint, favoring his heels as he braced himself for the distress to come. His eyes darted about, and he found himself searching for future exits. Just in case something went wrong. No harm in that knowledge, right?

Sherlock could practically feel the waves of anxiety rolling off of the soldier. He turned to him, and for the first time in his life, he was hesitant. “John? You're… you're beginning to hyperventilate.”

John swallowed thickly and blinked up at Sherlock in detachment, not registering what the detective had told him. “Hm?” He inhaled through his nostrils suddenly. “No no, I'm good.” He cleared his throat, though his breathing was still shallow and heavy. John strived for a viable reason for his breathing patterns.“Just, ah, smells nice, you know? Midnight air.” He wheezed. It was extremely unconvincing.

Sherlock stated in exasperation, “You're not a bloodhound, John. You're breathing is labored. Are you… panicking? You are. You're panicking.” Sherlock stared at John.

John was getting antsier by the minute and was now avoiding eye contact. He could get through this. He could. He just needed rational thoughts. “No.” He replied sharply.

“Yes, you are. You're a terrible liar. What's troubling you?” Sherlock was baffled.

John’s tone was snappy, “Nothing.” He rested his hands on his knees, and forced even, deep breaths. “I just need to… catch… my breath.”

Sherlock watched as John attempted to regain his composure. “John?” Concern seeped into the question.

John glanced up at Sherlock, who was lingering in clear discomfort and although he would never admit it, hovering in worry. John hesitated to state the truth. Lord knew Sherlock would have a fit once he learned John's cause for anxiety.

And, God, he was a grown man! John Watson could handle fireworks. It was irrational to fear them. He had never once had a bad experience with fireworks, but now that war blended with its loud sounds, he was crippled to suffering panic attacks beneath their harmless wrath. It was ridiculous and humiliating.

Sherlock reached out a hand, “John, it's-”

And suddenly, the sky was cracking with an enemy bomb. John nearly keeled over flinching. He grit his teeth at the overwhelming fear.

There was a shredding of shrapnel at his face. Blasts of dust made him want to cough as his lungs itched. As he touched the ground his senses reminded him where he was. The sand was like smooth concrete; there was no grainy texture. The Afghanistan sun wasn't beaming down in scalding waves, but the moon simmered in the night sky. John remembered where he was for a moment, but the memory was ingrained into his eyelids. The momentary flashes burning into his London surroundings.

And Lord, Sherlock was probably wondering what was going on. John licked his lips in unease and he battled his anxiety, “It's the fireworks. I’m… I'm afraid of fireworks. I can't- I thought I could fight it.” He was sweating beads.

Sherlock instantly moved beside him, though there was a shuffling and adjusting of something John could not see. He was too busy mentally readying for the next launch.

Another blast went off, and John slammed his hands over his ears, now prepared for the noise to come. He stumbled a bit, with waves of Afghanistan desert rolling in and enveloping his mind like a constricting python. He squeezed his eyes to avoid seeing it, but his mind reminded him exactly what a bullet wound felt like. His leg and arm suddenly ached terribly with a sharp buzz.

Sherlock was removing John’s clasped hands away from his ears and pushed them aside. Before he could protest, a cloth was wound tightly over John's ears like a thick headband, and John stared in astonishment at the detective. His shock of Sherlock's thoughtfulness shooed away any other thought of war as if it had never been a part of him. Had Sherlock just given up his scarf for John to have earmuffs? He had, hadn't he? What-

Sherlock clutched John by the shoulders and began pushing him to move. “How do you ever tolerate storms?”

John winced as a muffled boom erupted behind him. “They're not as bad. Storms rumble different than bombs or fireworks, and we never had many world-shaking storms down in Afghanistan. It is a desert, you know.”

Sherlock blocked John's view of the fireworks, even though it wasn't the color that triggered John. If anything, it kept him grounded and stable. Color was one thing he rarely saw back in the war. It had always been dusty browns and tans, and the occasional, unfortunate blood red.

John poked at the scarf and admired the fabric. Blue. There was never blue in Afghanistan. Just a pale, milky sky.

Sherlock flashed John a look of fond incredulity. “You’re alright, then?”

When John nodded, the flaps of the scarf waved at Sherlock. “Yeah, I think I might have a cup of tea, you?”

Sherlock bit back his comment for a moment. He debated whether if he should mention John's shaking hands, but he thought less of it. “Yes, that sounds... nice. Thank you.”

#john watson #sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock fanfic #sherlock fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #5 + 1 things

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worryinglyinnocent · 4 years

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Fic: The Real Housewives of Storybrooke (11/?)

A fic based on this premise here, following the lives of Storybrooke’s elite wives, with all the scandal, bitching and backstabbing that goes on behind the scenes of high society…

This verse is open for prompts!

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[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [Nine] [Ten] [AO3]

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REGINA

Regina would admit that however hopeless she was feeling at the prospect of her forthcoming meeting (well, meeting was the polite term for it, Regina was privately thinking of it as a battle to the death), the sight of her family outside the town hall buoyed her up considerably.

Robin, Tilly and Robyn had been standing outside the building since seven o’clock in the morning, waving banners reading ‘Save Storybrooke’s Green Spaces’ and accosting passers-by with leaflets that Tilly had spent all of the previous day photocopying whilst Robyn researched local environmental protection laws. Regina had no idea how successful they would be in recruiting people to their cause, but she couldn’t fault their enthusiasm. Tilly even had a megaphone, although Regina had no idea where she’d got it from.

“Hi Aunt Gina!” Robyn waved her over. “I know we don’t look too impressive at the moment, but Marian said she’d be along soon and David Nolan’s coming too. He’s bringing Emma and Bae. Or maybe they’re bringing him.”

“Well, however many of you there are, I just hope it makes a difference,” Regina said. “I really do appreciate all your efforts.”

She didn’t want to sound too pessimistic, especially after they’d been to so much trouble, but at the same time, the chances of being able to stop Belfrey in their tracks were extremely slim. Most of the paperwork was already underway.

“It’ll be ok.” Robin came over and put an arm around her. “You know that whatever happens, we believe in you completely.”

“I know, and I am grateful for that, but all the belief in the world isn’t going to help if I can’t get this development blocked.”

“Well, if the worst comes to the worst then we can always fall back on Mary Margaret’s plan to save us all with sheer audacity.” Robin smiled. “Go on. You can at least buy her some time to yell at her board.”

Regina nodded. “You’re right; I should be focussing on that. I’ve spent so long thinking that this is a fight I’m having alone.”

“You’ve done a lot of things on your own in your life, but you can rely on others, you know. When we say that we believe in you and we’re here for you, that’s what we mean.”

Robin kissed her cheek, and Regina twisted so that she could plant one full on his lips instead.

“Easy tiger.” He chuckled. “Now, go and do what you do best.”

Regina steeled herself and entered the town hall. Fiona Ebony and Victoria Belfrey were both already there in the large meeting room, plans and artists’ impressions spread out over the table in front of them.

“Ah, Regina, I’m so glad that you could join us.” Fiona’s voice was honey sweet, and Regina just raised an eyebrow as she took her seat. She had been working with Fiona for far too long to fall for any of her tricks.

Victoria launched into her prepared spiel, and Regina let her speak for a while before interrupting.

“Don’t you think it’s slightly premature to be making these plans now? I mean, the bidding window for the land still hasn’t closed; we’re all talking about this like it’s a done deal already.”

“Regina, dear, I really think that if anyone else was going to make a bid for the land, then they would have done it already.”

“Not necessarily. Last minute bids are often the most successful; ask any auctioneer.”

“Really…” Fiona was cut off by a screech of static from outside the building and Tilly’s voice yelling into her megaphone.

“Save Storybrooke’s green spaces! No new housing developments!”

Regina tried and failed to hide her smile as Fiona got up and went over to the window, opening it and yelling at the protestors outside. It had very little impact, not even when she threatened to call the sheriff. Graham had always been sympathetic to the cause and would likely just join them.

Accepting that she wasn’t going to get anywhere, Fiona returned to her seat and the conversation resumed, punctuated occasionally by Tilly’s shouting.

Regina sat back in her chair. Neither of the other women were listening to her, so she might as well bide her time and not waste her breath. One thing that she had learned about local politics throughout all her years in it was that you had to pick your moments, and right now wasn’t one of them. At least Tilly and the others were setting Victoria’s teeth on edge.

There was a timid knock on the door and Astrid, Fiona’s secretary, popped her head round.

“I’m very sorry to disturb you, Ms Ebony, but I have Sidney Glass from the Blanchard Group on the phone about the land bid.”

“What?” Fiona looked over at Regina. “Did you know about this?”

Regina just smiled benignly. “I did say that it was a little premature.”

Fiona huffed and turned to Astrid. “Tell him I’m busy.”

Astrid nodded and left the room.

Five minutes later, she was back.

“Erm, Ms Ebony, I have Mary Margaret Blanchard from the Blanchard Group on the phone. I told her you were busy but she’s not taking no for an answer. Every time I hang up she calls back.”

Fiona heaved a huge sigh and left the room to take the call. Victoria Belfrey was glaring daggers at Regina, but she just smiled, immune to Victoria’s rage.

Mary Margaret had come through.

BELLE

For the first time since she had begun actively trying to get pregnant, Belle suddenly had no desire to take a pregnancy test. She was feeling faintly nauseous at the prospect and she couldn’t tell whether it was out of anxiety, psychosomatic as a result of her other symptoms, or genuine morning sickness.

She paced up and down the bedroom, tapping the box against her hand. Mrs Potts was sitting on the end of the bed, knitting. Belle had called her up from the kitchen a moment of indecision so strong that she needed someone to work through it with her, and since Cameron was out of town with Mary Margaret trying to hash out the spectre of Belfrey Developments on the horizon, Mrs Potts was really her only option. She’d spent half an hour regaling the housekeeper with all her pent-up fears and frustrations, with the result that she now had nothing left to say and she really needed to pee.

She was late. She’d left it a week to make absolutely sure, but her period had shown no signs of arriving. If she was to take a test now and it was negative, Belle didn’t know what she would do, apart from cry her eyes out.

“Love, I think it might be best just to get it over with,” Mrs Potts said gently. “You’re going to have to bite the bullet sooner or later. Whatever happens, I’m right here for you.”

Belle nodded and went into the bathroom, feeling sicker than ever. The wait for the result was agonising, and when the timer on her phone went off, she couldn’t bring herself to turn the thing over, handing it to Mrs Potts instead.

“Oh Belle.” She felt Mrs Potts’ arms come around her. “Oh Belle, love.”

Belle closed her eyes. “I can’t tell if this is commiseration or celebration, Mrs P.”

“You’re going to have a baby, Belle.”

Belle’s eyes shot open and she looked at the pregnancy test that Mrs Potts was holding up in front of her face. Pregnant.

For a long time, she couldn’t say anything. After so long trying, it hardly seemed real that it had finally happened.

Embarrassingly, her first reaction was to let out a noise that could have been anything from a squeak to an outright scream, and then to burst into tears, and then to throw her arms around Mrs Potts whilst she sobbed snottily against the housekeeper’s shoulder.

“It’s all right, love,” Mrs Potts soothed. “Let it all out. I know how much this has been praying on your mind. You need the relief now, so just let it go. Everything’s all right.”

Belle didn’t know how long she stayed in her turmoil of emotions, everything from excitement to disbelief to fear that it was all a dream and back again, but finally, she had cried herself dry, and she realised that she was sitting in a sea of paper hankies whilst Mrs Potts rubbed her back.

“I bet you feel better after that now, don’t you?”

Belle nodded.

“Oh, Mrs Potts. I don’t even know why I’m crying. I’m so happy!”

Mrs Potts just smiled and patted her cheek. “I hope that everything goes smoothly, and you have the very best experience you could hope for.”

“Right now, I don’t care if I have the most horrific pregnancy ever, as long as I have a healthy baby at the end of it.” Belle’s hands came to her abdomen. “It’s really happening. I can’t believe it.”

Mrs Potts left her alone with her thoughts, and Belle fell to pacing up and down the bedroom, having cleared all the tissues off the blankets. She was desperate to let Cameron know as soon as possible, but she knew that he was in the middle of something important and she didn’t want to distract him. Besides, she would far rather tell him in person. She didn’t even know how she would word it, so being able to just hand him the pregnancy test would be the easiest way.

The wait for him to come home was agonising but made less so by Bae’s arrival home – Tilly had gone out with Robyn. His tales of their small but nonetheless exuberant protest outside the town hall kept her amused until she heard Cameron’s key in the lock, but even Bae could tell that she was abstracted, and he slipped away quietly as his father entered the living room. Whether he had guessed her secret or not, Belle didn’t know, but he knew how much she wanted a baby, and he’d always been shrewd beyond his years.

“How did it go?” she asked, trying to keep her tone nonchalant. If it had been a terrible day, then maybe he wouldn’t be quite as receptive to her news as he might otherwise have been. On the other hand, it might be welcome good news to him that would be a bright point.

“Good.” Cameron smiled and came over to kiss her. “I think that we’ve got everything sorted out. Of course, there are many more legal complications and loopholes to go through, and I won’t be entirely convinced that Belfrey won’t do something to pull the rug out from under our feet until everything is signed and sealed, and the land is in Mary Margaret’s hands, but we’ve certainly got started. We have a horse in the race now.”

He paused, tilting his head on one side as he looked at her. “Are you all right? You seem pensive.”

Belle shook her head. “No, I’m not pensive. Just excited. I’ve been waiting for you to come home.”

Cameron raised an eyebrow. “Oh yes? And what’s made you so very eager to see me?”

“It worked.”

“Pardon? What worked?”

“Stopping thinking about making a baby and just focussing on enjoying each other’s company.” Belle took a deep breath and pulled the pregnancy test out of her skirt pocket, handing it to him. “It worked.”

“Oh Belle…” Cameron was rendered speechless for a good couple of minutes before he finally tore his gaze away from the single word on the display and looked up at her. His eyes were shining, and Belle thought that she might well burst into tears of her own again. “Oh, my beautiful Belle. This is the most wonderful news.”

He pulled her in close, burying his face in her hair, and Belle closed her eyes, feeling warm happiness flood through her veins. Everything was well.

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #outlaw queen #Belle French #Regina Mills #Fic: The Real Housewives of Storybrooke

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rawrevive · 5 years

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My Vipassana Meditation Experience

I recently embarked on a 100 hour journey within myself over 10 days in beautiful Onalaska, Washington. Vipassana meditation is one of India’s oldest meditation techniques taught in India more than 2500 years ago as a universal remedy for universal ills.

Vipassana, which means to see things as they really are. It is the process of self-purification through self-observation.

About the Course

Vipassana centers are located all the around world, are non-profit and run solely on donations. You can attend a course for free or give a donation at the end which will allow more students to attend.

If you attend a 10 day Vipassana meditation course, you are provided food and accommodation. NOT a retreat but rather a very intense, soul searching, emotional, physically painful course which you have to work VERY hard at to reap the benefits.

Including check-in and check-out dates, you actually attend for 12 days to participate in 10 full days of noble silence. Noble silence means silence of body, speech and mind. I was actually excited about this part! I couldn’t wait to check in my phone and not have access to it for 10 days!

All who attend a Vipassana course must conscientiously undertake the following five precepts for the duration of the course. These were all pretty easy for me since I already don’t eat animal products, or take any intoxicants.

The 5 Precepts

to abstain from killing any being,

to abstain from stealing,

to abstain from all sexual activity,

to abstain from telling lies,

to abstain from all intoxicants.

See Code of Discipline for information.

Vipassana meditation aims at the highest spiritual goals of total liberation and full enlightenment. Its purpose is never simply to cure physical disease. However, as a by-product of mental purification, many psychosomatic diseases are eradicated. In fact, Vipassana eliminates the three causes of all unhappiness: craving, aversion and ignorance. With continued practice, the meditation releases the tensions developed in everyday life, opening the knots tied by the old habit of reacting in an unbalanced way to pleasant and unpleasant situations.

Course Timetable

The schedule looks daunting; 10 hours of meditation a day! The gong rings at 4:00 am every morning but you have the option to meditate in your room till 6:30 so you can just go back to sleep if you want.

You only sit for 1 hour at a time with breaks so it’s really not that bad. Also, you have lots of opportunity to meditate in your room which can be more comfortable. During rest breaks I loved to use the walking trails on the property and spend time in nature amongst the deer (this was my favorite part of the day besides lunch).

4:00 am Morning wake-up bell 4:30-6:30 am Meditate in the hall or in your room 6:30-8:00 am Breakfast break 8:00-9:00 am Group meditation in the hall 9:00-11:00 am Meditate in the hall or in your room according to the teacher’s instructions 11:00-12:00 noon Lunch break 12 noon-1:00 pm Rest and interviews with the teacher 1:00-2:30 pm Meditate in the hall or in your room 2:30-3:30 pm Group meditation in the hall 3:30-5:00 pm Meditate in the hall or in your own room according to the teacher’s instructions 5:00-6:00 pm Tea break 6:00-7:00 pm Group meditation in the hall 7:00-8:15 pm Teacher’s Discourse in the hall 8:15-9:00 pm Group meditation in the hall 9:00-9:30 pm Question time in the hall 9:30 pm Retire to your own room–Lights out

Food & Accommodation

I wish I could have taken pictures of the food, but as mentioned earlier you are not allowed access to any electronic devices during the course. The food was very impressive! Anyone who is plant-based and gluten-free will have no problem as 99% of the food was vegan and gluten-free.

You have one main meal a day served at 11:00 am and then tea and fruit at 5:00 pm. I found this particularly hard as I was SOOO hungry ALL the time! I had to start eating way more at lunch so I could get through the day. I was waking up at 2:00 am with extreme hunger pains that would keep me awake. My theory for this is that my body was going through so much physically and emotionally I was burning through food so fast.

Accommodation was way nicer than expected. There are rooms with 2 beds and a bathroom so you really have a lot of privacy. The bed was a thin piece of foam on wooden slats, not so comfortable but you get used to it. There is lots of room for storage, a lamp and alarm clock (although you did not need the alarm clock as they rung the bell for every new item on the agenda).

Men and women are completely separated throughout the course (for distraction purposes). You will only see men during meditation in the hall but even then you have separate entrances and sit on opposite sides of the room.

Washroom in the residence

My bed/room

In this way the technique of self-observation shows us reality in its two aspects, inner and outer. Previously we only looked outward, missing the inner truth. We always looked outside for the cause of our unhappiness; we always blamed and tried to change the reality outside. Being ignorant of the inner reality, we never understood that the cause of suffering lies within, in our own blind reactions toward pleasant and unpleasant sensations.

My Experience

What led me to Vipassana

Okay, let’s get to the nitty gritty! First of all, I want to explain why I attended this course. I heard about Vipassana from a few people over the years and how it was life changing but the hardest thing they have ever done. 2018 was a really good year but it was also one of the hardest personally and emotionally.

I moved from Alberta back to BC which was one of the hardest moves of my life, went through a separation and started a new relationship. All while I was trying to start a business and create an income for myself.

These life events combined threw me through a loop and along with current traumas brought up a lot of past ones as well. They say intimate relationships bring out childhood traumas which I experienced first hand and now understand what that means. I realized I still had a lot of inner work to do and had not “dealt” with my past. Actually, I had blocked most of it out.

I knew I had to do something; it was either Ayahuasca or Vipassana! And I’m SO HAPPY I did NOT choose Ayahuasca. I registered for the waiting list at a Vipassana course in Onalaska, Washington and was accepted 2 weeks before. Everything happens just at the right moment and this could not have been more perfect timing.

Everyone seeks peace and harmony, because this is what we lack in our lives. From time to time we all experience agitation, irritation, disharmony. And when we suffer from these miseries, we don’t keep them to ourselves; we often distribute them to others as well. Unhappiness permeates the atmosphere around someone who is miserable, and those who come in contact with such a person also become affected. Certainly this is not a skillful way to live.

My First Impression

The center was only a 4.5 hour drive from Vancouver, BC. Check in is 3:00 pm to 6:00 pm the first day; upon arrival everything was really well organized and check-in super smooth. I filled out a few forms, checked in my phone, keys and wallet (they are all locked up in a safe), and was given directions to my residence. There are carts you can use to transport luggage as it is a bit of a walk to the residence. I loaded up the cart and headed to my room.

I was so excited about how much nature surrounded the center; endless greenery and lots of tame deer. It was so quiet, peaceful and smelt heavenly. My room was situated at the back of the residence facing nothing but nature! I walked in and was pleasantly surprised with how clean and warm it was. It reminded me of summer camp.

I unpacked and headed to the hall to eat a light meal and attend orientation. After orientation we headed to the hall for our first meditation session. I had no idea what to expect! I had never meditated in my life before this (I know, and start with 100 hours in 10 days, what was I thinking?)! We all had assigned seats which would remain the same throughout the course (so the teachers and course manager could keep track of us). During this first session I realized how serious this was and everyone attending was not here to screw around!

View from my front door

The First Few Days

Although, my emotions were all over the place, the first few days was kind of fun! I was happy, sad, confused, angry, happy, sad… and even started shedding a few tears on the second day.

I like structure so the schedule suited me well. All I had to worry about was meditating, eating, meditating eating again, walking in nature, meditating some more, drinking tea, more meditation and sleep. My favorite part of the day was lunch and afternoon walks, how hard could this be?

In order to be relieved of our misery, we have to know the basic reason for it, the cause of the suffering. If we investigate the problem, it becomes clear that whenever we start generating any negativity or impurity in the mind, we are bound to become unhappy. A negativity in the mind, a mental defilement or impurity, cannot coexist with peace and harmony.

Days Four to Seven

Day four we started learning the Vipassana technique of observing sensations in our body and this is when the real work starts. During this process the mind starts opening up which led me to have terrible nightmares (which lasted throughout the entire course), so sleep was non-existent.

I really started working hard to get as much out of as I could. After all, you take 12 days out of your life to practice Vipassana! I started taking it more seriously and really focused on the technique.

Vipassana focuses on mind and body connection; if you have emotional pain or trauma buried, it will surface in physical pain. And oh my, did it ever! By day 5 I was in SO much physical pain I wanted to throw up! Because of this, I was taking advantage of meditating in my room as much as I could. I was also very emotional and crying every day during sessions and on my walks.

Being in noble silence was particularly hard for me, I had no one to turn to for support except myself (I guess that’s the whole point, right?). Thankfully you are able to speak with the teachers when you have questions or concerns which I did a lot because well, I was a DISASTER! The teachers reassured me this was good because it meant the technique was working. All my pain was coming out at once and with a vengeance.

Every day after day four, physical and emotional pain, sleepless nights and nightmares just kept getting worse. I had to request a chair to sit during group meditations because any posture was just too painful. Even the chair was almost unbearable.

Day 8

I remember this day very well because I wanted to quit. I am not a quitter, once I start something I see it through till the end, so this was very unusual for me. All I wanted desperately was a bath and sleep in my own bed! I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it until day 10 but again I spoke with the teachers and they reassured me it will get better.

A good solution; it avoids both extremes—suppression and expression. Burying the negativity in the unconscious will not eradicate it, and allowing it to manifest as unwholesome physical or vocal actions will only create more problems. But if you just observe, then the defilement passes away and you are free of it.

Days Nine and Ten

Throughout the course, you are told over and over again the importance of staying until the end because you are doing surgery on your emotional wounds and day 10 will learn another technique to seal those wounds.

By the afternoon of day 9 I started to feel a lot better, and positive. I was in a totally different place, my surroundings looked different and felt more at peace. Day 8, I told myself “I would never do this again” and by Day 9 I couldn’t wait to come back. Funny how that happens!

Day 10 you are allowed to break noble silence at 11:00 am (so you can get integrated back into the real world). I thought I would be so excited for this but was actually very overwhelming. Lunch time was really loud with chatter and high energy, I had to go to my room to be alone. The rest of the day was pretty slack with just a couple of meditation sessions to learn the last technique.

Summary

After sharing our experiences with a few women, I realized my experience was quite intense. So please don’t let my experience scare you. Although it sounded like I had a really hard time, I accepted it because healing is hard work. You have to be really ready and willing to completely surrender.

People attend this course for different reasons during different emotional states in their lives. I decided to attend at a time in my life I felt I needed a big self transformation and self-improvement.

Someone said to me “Vipassana will be the best and worst time of your life”. This is 100% true! For me, anyway. This course was one of the hardest things I have ever done but the best thing I could have done for myself.

I was able to make life altering decisions so easily because everything became so clear. Without distractions of the outside world, self-reflection and observation, I was able to connect with myself deeper than I ever have.

Physical and emotional pain was released which led me to forgive, love unconditionally and see things as they really are.

I learned tools to change my reaction towards craving and aversion.

The work does not stop here, Vipassana is an ongoing technique and should be practiced everyday to reap the benefits.

Once you have completed the course you have access to resources and materials to assist with ongoing practice. You can download a useful app called Dhama.org Mobile App and listen to group meditation sittings, discourses and much more.

Observing reality as it is by observing the truth inside—this is knowing oneself directly and experientially. As one practices, one keeps freeing oneself from the misery of mental impurities. From the gross, external, apparent truth, one penetrates to the ultimate truth of mind and matter. Then one transcends that, and experiences a truth which is beyond mind and matter, beyond time and space, beyond the conditioned field of relativity: the truth of total liberation from all defilements, all impurities, all suffering. Whatever name one gives this ultimate truth is irrelevant; it is the final goal of everyone.

Interested in Attending? Here are Some Suggestions

Only attend a 10 day Vipassana course if you are ready and willing to completely surrender.

The center I attended in Washington was really well run, organized and the course managers do everything to make sure you are comfortable. (after all, they want you to stay)

Go without any expectation; everyone will have a different experience.

Talk to the teachers as much as you can so you fully understand the technique to ensure you are practicing it correctly.

Don’t bother bringing meditation supplies, the center has tons.

Bring a sleeping bag. I brought bedding but found it uncomfortable.

Bring a large refillable water bottle and snacks for emergencies.

You are not allowed to wear any tight clothing so bring lots of comfortable, baggy, warm clothing for 10 days (there are no laundry facilities.)

Upon returning home, eas yourself back into your life. I lost my voice the first day back home. If you can, take a day of rest and limit yourself to electronics, T.V., phone etc.

Go back! I would like to attend once a year.

I came home with confidence, less pain and misery and increased positivity. I would highly recommend this course to anyone.

*Quotes are from a talk by Mr. S.N. Goenka on the Art of Living: Vipassana Meditation*

Vipassana Meditation Experience My Vipassana Meditation Experience I recently embarked on a 100 hour journey within myself over 10 days in beautiful Onalaska, Washington.

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nothingneverforever · 4 years

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Never Have I Ever (2020)

Hey, I think this is my first TV series ‘review’ ever! Well I did do a basically empty post on Unforgotten (season 1) back in Feb 2017, promising to write properly my full feelings down, but that was something I never got back to. It’s still one of the best TV shows ever in the whole world, so hopefully I have time for it some day.

Anyway, meanwhile Never Have I Ever (NHIE), is… absolutely not good. At all….

I’d decided to watch it after seeing Mindy Kaling’s Late Night (2019), which was surprisingly enjoyable and moving even, and not just because Emma Thomson is one of my favourite celebrities in this world. It was a fun movie, and it felt different (from other similar films) ! I say it was surprising because I guess due to misogyny or something, I never thought I had reason to take Mindy Kaling seriously. And I am so sorry for it! There were parts of the script (Late Night) that worked out so, so well.

Back to NHIE! First, here are some synopses I’ve found online of the series:

- The complicated life of a modern-day first generation Indian American teenage girl, inspired by Mindy Kaling's own childhood.

- After a traumatic year, an Indian-American teen just wants to spruce up her social status - but friends, family and feelings won't make it easy on her

- Episode 1: After recent trauma, Devi starts her first day as a high school sophomore determined to shake off old labels and finally become cool.

So I guess my first complaint about NHIE is a bone I could pick with just about any American production from the last, idk, 8 years. You know how when (for whatever reason) every single character is ‘awkward’ or ‘weird’ or sooo idiosyncratic in general, they just end up all being… almost exactly the same? Where all the over-used tropes, every character’s too-loud too-colourful unique defining traits just end up reading the same way, to me at least.

Need all characters be so strong, really? Strong as in, overly sapid, full-bodied, clearly defined, distinct in a way that actually isn’t unique at all… I mean I’m not asking for more Jack Maliks (from Yesterday, as reviewed here by me) cos fuk dat guy omfg hate him and his dull ass lol but … do you know what I mean? When every character has traits that are so instantly recognizable, so clear to the plain eye without need for any nuanced observation or interpretation that you can almost like .. see the literal line of text in Courier font for the character description in the screenplay flashing before your eyes? Like of course as viewers we do want to feel like we have some grasp of the characters we’re investing in and relating to but I think if traits and personalities and mannerisms are so simplistic (even if they are diverse) that the characters themselves can ve perfectly summed up in a nutshell then that’s not a good thing at all.. I don’t know, it just seems a very American thing that I’m tired of, where there’s just a complete dearth of authenticity and complexity. Because no one in real life is ever sooooo distinctly themselves 100% of the time you know? Sure, I haven’t seen something specifically catered for teens in a while so maybe it’s just genre-specific thing but I do think there was so much more room for more realistic characters here.

Okay but still, 90% of all comments I have trawled through (facebook, Instagram, youtube) seem to be from American teens, talking about how relatable the show is so I guess high school teachers really be out there acting like caricatures of their TV trope selves and friends are all awkward af among each other and quirky at home and quirky on the streets walking home and quirky in the corridors of their school and exaggerate every reaction in every ordinary situation. But here’s the thing, I don’t think people are actually this way. I think many of them pretend that they are, act like they are. I think here lies the danger: where the more media we have portraying this kind of intensely saturated characters and personalities, the more young people will think that to be ‘themselves’, they have to raise the decibels of each and every trait of their own… I dunno if you understand me? I think it’s an insidious feedback cycle not dissimilar to the manic pixie dreamgirl effect, not in how women’s quirkiness serves to bring out dormant sides of men but just in how people (especially girls because due to society-enforced insecurities are more susceptible to taking influence from popular role models) have to BE SO *INSERT ANY ADJECTIVE HERE* … I don’t know… it’s just inauthentic and tiring. So NHIE is okay, as long as it is makes clear that it’s caricaturizing different examples of how some people may act in different circumstances… but it doesn’t do this. Aiyah I know I’m making a huge deal out of what some people will obviously just take as entertainment and gags for laughs etc but… it’s annoying to me…

Okay

So I’m not sure if you got this from the synopses I’d copied above, so, again: NHIE revolves around a nice girl, Devi (15), who lost her father (heart attack, in the middle of the school hall where he was watching Devi perform at her school orchestra concert) last year and is now starting a new year of school, coping with the incident by stifling every single traumatic memory. Also there are some random throwaways here and there about her having literally become physically disabled for 3 months after her father’s death where Devi lost the ability to use her legs (psychosomatic reaction to her loss) but it’s only ever joked at in insignificant ways so I guess… we shall never know that side of her grief? But all this (grieving over dead father, impersonal relationship with stern mother etc) is mere backdrop, joining other backdrop themes like being a shitty friend from start to end in unbelievably shitty ways etc – the main ‘plot’ instead is made up of Devi’s desperate quest to have sex with Paxton, a 16 year-old ‘hottie’ from school who she likes, erm, because, hot.

Yea that’s it…… that’s the critique. She’s a 15 year old girl whose everyday actions (for the most part) are calculated to lead up to her deflowering by her crush. Not to be a prude but… is this an okay storyline? Like are 15 year-olds legally allowed to have sex? Lol… Am I under any misconception about what teens all over the world get up to? No. Do I think that the law plays any useful role in preventing young girls and boys from sexualizing themselves and wasting their time on sexual pursuits when they can and should be developing literally any other interest and skill? No. Am I still unhappy that this was the main motivating factor for Devi to get up and out of her home each day, unhappy that for this reason (her goal of sleeping with Paxton), unhappy that because of this she morphed into the worst, most unreliable and unrelatable friend ever to her besties who needed her badly??? Yes!

Look, I’ve covered relevant topics in my 4 years of social work education to understand Devi’s actions as unhealthy, maladaptive coping behaviours – we see Devi exhibit behaviours / thoughts etc evocative of basically all 4 stages of the Kubler-Ross grief cycle, besides the final stage of acceptance: denial, anger, bargaining, depression. If we look at Virginia Satir’s coping stances instead, (different types of behaviours people exhibit when under stress), Devi again displays all 4 stances: super reasonable (i.e. over-rationalizing something so as to avoid confronting/acknowledging the emotional truth), irrelevant (distracting, changing the topic, inappropriate jokes), placating (self-explanatory) and blaming (again, obvious). So basically, Devi does, says and feels anything and everything besides maturely coping with the loss of her father. Is this realistic? Yes! Does everyone work within their own timelines before finally coming to that final Kubler-Ross stage of acceptance? Absolutely! And I am not at all rushing Devi to act ‘normal’ or to display healthier coping mechanisms. I just wish the grief was handled so so so much better by Mindy Kaling and whoever else was involved in developing this story - this story that is honestly full of promise. In other words, how Devi fails to handle her grief could have been written so much better, so much deeper instead of her failings itself being the central form of entertainment for much of the 10 episodes.

Anyway, also, besides it being morally not okay for a 15 year-old’s thirst for sex to be an accepted plot point (accepted on- and off-screen I mean), the actors playing Devi and Paxton are 10 years apart in age. Devi (reminder: age 15 on-screen) is played by a lovely actress who is currently 18, and Paxton is played by someone who is currently 29. So like….. she would likely have been 17 at the time of shooting? That’s just not okay and I don’t think I need say more lol. Shit like this, miscasting your key heartthrob, is just so… cheapo and so late 90s/early 2000s you know where the actors are so so clearly adults playing high schoolers, it’s just… cheapo af and absolutely inexcusable now.

Okay, everything up to this point in my ‘review’ has just been small here-and-there thoughts I had while watching it, and I’ve dedicated fluffy paragraph after paragraph on them so as to delay speaking about my main issue with the series: how the central trauma is dealt with... insomuch as it isn’t, at all.

And I’m not just saying this as someone who’s fresh off having just re-watched A Single Man, because they are obviously intended as very different works and intentionally made of (made with?) very different calibers but there are, surely, much much better ways to handle grief than what we are given with NHIE where Devi tries her darnest to have sex with her dreamboat bae. Okay so early in the series (second episode), Devi actually does get with Paxton in his garage after propositioning him (by ambushing him outside school after he finished swim practice or something), but when he takes off her shirt she’s like ok nvm I cant have sex now bye. So yea, it doesn’t happen. But it continues to be her main source of distraction from her grief, so it does remain a central plot point. Anyway the therapist character in NHIE is a joke, full of age-old TV-therapist lines like “So how do you feel about that?” etc, other platitudes and hollow-isms. She does try to tell Devi that it is not in her interest to be putting her sense of self worth on being “bangable” (I do believe this was the exact word used, cant be bothered to find the exact minute in the speicifc episode but yea trust that Devi and her therapist are candid with speaking about her plans for deflowering and Devi is never willing to talk about anything else but), but … I don’t know, Devi’s schtick gets tiresome, not because I’m neuronormative and want to see more normal behavior from the dear girl or because I’m annoyed with how badly she’s handling her grief, but more because of how badly they (writers, producers whoever etc) are handling it.

Like, up till the very end, we see her irrelevant stances or proof of her denial as fodder for lame jokes and utterly cliché dialogue, in what should be a genuine and ‘real’ scene. It’s annoying!! See below for screencaps from slightly over halfway through the FINAL episode of the series - in other words, way, way too late for a joke to be made out of how Devi resorts to the same poor coping mechanisms in distracting from her grief. I’ve screenshotted only parts of the convo, leaving out the parts where this serious convo turns into a joke about Eleanor, that itself pretends to be deep and serious but it isn’t at all...?

Devi’s friends confront her about the most serious thing in the entire series (her needing to go down to her beach to meet her mom to scatter her dad’s ashes, something she hitherto has rejected as she is unable to face this final step in accepting his death but masks with more irrelevant excuses), and she’s still coping poorly by ‘deflecting’, as her friend rightly says. I don’t know about you, but this was not a scene I needed jokes in at all.

But then, like… suddenly…. Immediately after this she starts crying and everything is good for the first time and there is acceptance within her and some semblances of healing of the fractures in her relationship with her mom etc… I dunno, it’s just not cathartic at all, because Devi hasn’t been given enough of a journey at all. The 0 to 100 thing doesn’t work here because it’s not satisfying (for us) or realistic (for Devi) at all.

Re: the grief, I dunno, if we look at another, equally popular Netflix production, The Haunting of Hill House comes to mind. Yes, obviously not at all a meaningful or fair comparison to make but again, if it’s about a family dealing with grief and loss, why can’t we expect that NHIE carry the same gravitas? In Hill House, we see our characters fumble and lash out and ‘pop off’ (a term used in NHIE which I found strangely out of place) at one another, often, but never are manifestations of their grief, never are clear mishandlings of their grief on display for our entertainment in the form of laughs or ‘cringe’ purposes. It’s just...not everything has to be funny you know? Even if it’s a teen show. I think there are ways, subtle ways, expert ways for something to be serious without at all needing to be heavy.

Again, like my gripe with the childish and/or cheap caricatures of human personalities which would be okay if this series was clearly presented as light entertainment to fill gaps in one’s day, not handling the trauma and grief could (perhaps) be overlooked if it didn’t pretend that it would in fact handle it. But everyone’s discussing the show as if it genuinely was an incredible take on dealing with loss and trauma, as if it’s contributed significantly to understandings of how a young, beautiful lovely ‘normal’ schoolgirl can live and learn through extreme trauma… BUT THE SHOW DOESN’T DO THIS LIKE IT LITERALLY DOESN’T AT ALL I FUCKING SWEAR…. Please watch all 10 episodes and show me even just ONE minute where we come full circle from anything, where Devi grows through her pain and where her journey is developed over more than just literally the last 7 minutes of screentime in the very last episode of the entire series. And I’m also seeing soooooo many comments from people who have enjoyed the series mention how fun and lighthearted it was, how comfortable they are to categorize the series as comedy and how great a time they had binge-watching it. But… it’s not funny? Like it’s really not lol… Devi is dealing with a most painful, urgent grief, having lost her father tragically a year before (and having to see him go before her very eyes). Her denial, her various-aforementioned-unhealthy-coping-mechanisms-and-maladaptive-behaviours made for painful watching for me. It shouldn’t be funny for us to see her abandon her friends when they most needed her; it shouldn’t be fun to see her lash out at her mom and dream of Paxton shirtless, these shouldn’t be comedic externalities of her situation at all. Does this mean I want an utterly dour, extremely humourless NHIE instead? Not at all! I just wish scenes / examples of her mishandling her grief were not the same ones that are supposed to make us laugh and think that everything is light and fun. Like, we can have other funny scenes featuring Devi instead you know? Things that aren’t actually incredibly harmful to her psyche.

ANYWAY

Some positives, cos I did enjoy this stupid series lollll and I did cry and I did laugh and I did look forward to watching it every evening while I exercised, okie? :)

There is one honestly genius thing that I like, where the genius lies in its utter randomness. The series (save for one episode which I will not talk about cos I don’t really give a shit about Andy Samberg and whoever his inclusion was pandering to) was narrated by John McEnroe, who, er, apparently is a well-known American tennis player. The only tennis player I know is Andre Agassi because for some reason in 2016 I borrowed from the library and read cover-to-cover his autobiography omg actually why on earth did I even do that lol I must have read somewhere that it was good perhaps? Anyway it is still recognized as one of the most ‘interesting’ or iconic sports autobiographies of all time so. But yea John McEnroe who?? He (John) is mentioned here and there as having been Devi’s late father’s favourite tennis player – which still does nothing to explain how and why he is narrating the whole series, which is great! I do enjoy the no-attempt-made to connect the fact of his narration to anything in the plot. But it’s not done in an annoyingly absurdist way either, you know? It just it what it is. I mean I guess if I’d written the screenplay which was in part autobiographical, I’d too love to have LeBron James or Megan Rapinoe narrating it, just because!

Ultimately, I think we must all acknowledge how fucking epic it is for Mindy Kaling to be where she is today. That Netflix approached her and asked for a story from her heart, drawing from her own life, and gave her the boundary-less freedom to write what she wanted is cool. She may not be the voice I think teens (or any audience really) may most need but they certainly do want this voice – NHIE is so so so loved and appreciate across the board – by adults, kids, diasporic Indian girls, normal non-minority-race girls etc, with everyone calling (begging) for another season, and anyway Mindy Kaling is probably about 1000000x better anyway than others who have been granted the same stage and presence as her before, like, I dunno, Michael fucking Bay or fucking James Cameron so yay her !!! For the sake of us all!

--------

update, a few hours later:

so since forcing Jade to read my post the second it went up, i have learnt that:

So there goes the one singular uniquely cute thing I did appreciate about NHIE then i guess, seeing as his random feature throughout the series isn’t unique at all... seeing as unexpectedness makes for a predictable part of his record, it is no longer charming to me. lol bye!

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sincerely-chaos · 7 years

Text

Inconsequential, part XVII (ficlet) - ‘method acting’

John is restless.

His footsteps, as he paces out to the kitchen, speak of a slight tendency towards limping, which will frequently occur when he's unsettled by something.

What must it be like, Sherlock wonders with his fingers pressed together beneath his chin, to have your mental state written out in every step you take, your body betraying your mind in the most palpable way?

Devastating, most likely.

Which is why Sherlock has never showed either sympathy or pity, much less consideration, in regards to this quirk of John's psyche.

There hasn't been a case for over a week - at least not for John, who was working when Sherlock solved the disappointing five that had at first seemed like a seven - and John is starting to truly despise his job at the clinic for all that it reminds him of just how far from his previous adrenaline-filled use of his skills he's ended up.

On top of that, John seems to be somewhat unsettled by his and Sherlock's last… encounter.

Apparently, Sherlock isn't the only one who found his own unpredictable limits slightly troublesome. Judging by the way that John hasn't even hinted at wanted… that in over a week, John doesn't know what to make of what had happened, and perhaps that'd been enough to discourage him from any further ill-advised experiments with--

But no. That isn't it, regardless of what Sherlock's own disgusting self-pity would like to suggest.

John wants.

John might be harder to read in this regard than Sherlock had anticipated, but the conflicted look on his face whenever Sherlock is either acting in a way that John finds frustrating or displaying fragments of what could be seen as vaguely… submissive gestures is not hard to read.

He wants, but currently, the reasons not to weigh heavier than his… want.

As John returns into the sitting room, frowning as he glances at the stack of journals he'd planned to start working his way through but now feel too disgruntled about his medical career to even consider, Sherlock decides that it's time to tip that scale.

It's a strangely satisfying thought, being able to simply do so.

Sherlock knows psychology the way a prey knows the way to avoid the predator.

There'd been forms and interviews - mostly with his parents, at first, seeing how Sherlock himself wasn't a particularly willing source of information - and there'd been patterns to the questions asked, patterns which Sherlock observed and pieced together with some help of a textbook on child psychiatry in his school's library after hours.

He was a “difficult case”. Initially due to his intellect allowing him to “compensate” for some of the symptoms, according to one doctor, and later due to the fact that he began “cooperating”, which in his case meant that he distributed various false leads, pointing to a multitude of different diagnoses, making the doctors feel they might be onto something only to suddenly shift tracks and make them think that another trail might be what they'd been missing previously.

The game ended once Mycroft heard his parents discuss the problem of the doctors’ widely varying preliminary diagnoses in their kitchen, once when he was home over the holidays, and instantly realised what Sherlock was up to.

At that time, Sherlock had already made an educated guess as to wherein his problems lay, albeit no diagnose fitted him perfectly, which was both reassuring and unsettling, because Sherlock wanted things to make sense and facts to fit.

In the end, his parents must have realised that if the medical professionals were fooled by their son already at the diagnostic stage, they were unlikely to manage to figure out a way to get as far as figuring out a way to make life any easier for him. The project was abandoned, and the whole debacle only served to teach Sherlock that distraction, obfuscation, confusion as well as being one step ahead were effective means to prevent anyone from digging too deep into things he did not want them to unravel.

As he grew up, it soon became clear that he needn't go to so much trouble most of the time; his vile temper and sharp tongue was more than enough to keep most people at a distance that would prevent them from even trying.

At least, it worked for well over a decade.

“You're better at deducing people's… inclinations than their motives for murder.”

John doesn't stop in his track, just lifts his eyebrows a bit as he continues towards his chair, a plate with a sandwich on in his hand.

“Well, deducing the motive behind any murderous attempt directed at you personally would probably be--” John starts, but Sherlock interrupts him before that so-called joke is finished.

“You find me frustrating.”

John snorts, but it's a far cry from his usual bickering face, his shoulders tense and the past few days of increased psychosomatic pain taking its toll.

“That would be putting it mildly, yeah.”

Sherlock rolls his eyes, knowing that John will often smile at this gesture when he thinks Sherlock can't see it. Frustratingly, John seems to find his ‘dramatics’... ‘endearing’ .

(‘Never one to hide your… eccentricity, are you, brother mine?’ Mycroft’s teasing voice echoes in his head, but for once, Mycroft’s insinuations might be something Sherlock can use for his own purposes. His purpose being very much related to what Mycroft had implied.)

“Have you always felt inclined to relieve that frustration by hurting me, or did that start only once you deduced that I might not be opposed to such arrangement?”

Sherlock looks at John, sitting opposite of him, his sandwich untouched on the side-table next to him, balanced on a stack of paper. A minute frown, then his face is once again unreadable.

“I'm not--”

“...punishing me for being ‘an arse’. Noted.”

John sighs heavily, rubs his face.

“Sherlock, if you think that this is about--”

“You're purposely misunderstanding me,” Sherlock accuses, and his frustration is not an act this time. “You don't hurt me because I'm frustrating, but when I am acting in a way that you deem ‘frustrating’, you find it satisfying to think about how I will willingly let you hurt me, let you humiliate me, later. It's quite the thrill, isn't it? Knowing that you're not just someone who follows the sociopathic freak, like people think, but knowing that you are the one who gets to bend him to your will and hold him there, making him want to submit to you.”

Sherlock's voice is deliberate and low, the comfort of hiding behind a deduction about John making the truths about himself easier to voice.

“You're not a sociopathic freak,” John says slowly, as if having had the air knocked out of him.

It's almost too easy, and yet, it's not.

“You don't object to any of the rest of it, then?” Sherlock says, trying not to look too pleased as his words clearly had the intended effect; confirming part of John's motivation and also making John feel a bit... protective on Sherlock's behalf.

(‘So loyal so fast, your little… friend,’ Mycroft had said with his mock-innocent face and a nauseating smile after the first few weeks of their cohabitation.)

“You're not a sociopath, or a freak,” John insists with his jaw stubbornly sticking out, ignoring Sherlock's rhetorical question.

A solider, loyal and with a strong moral principle.

The moral principle was often a bit of a bother, but the other two were... an advantage.

“Arguable, but beside the point,” Sherlock says as to wave John's words off, then continuing. “Given what you now know about my… inclinations I thought you might find the term ‘freak’ somewhat more fitting than you used to.”

The expression in John's face is everything Sherlock had hoped for.

Disbelief, anger, a hint of something akin to sadness and then… determination.

“What on Earth makes you think that I-- God, Sherlock, I--”

Something in the earnestness of John's entire reaction, in the repulsion he displays at the thought of what Sherlock implied, makes something almost warm settle beneath Sherlock's skin, and the sensation is not unlike that he had experienced when he had looked around the police cars and ambulances outside the school where the cabbie had been shot, only to see a short little man with a deceivingly innocent look stand with his hands in his pocket and survey the crime scene as if he had no idea what had happened.

“You're uncomfortable with the fact that you like hurting me, as this is not something you've ever done or wanted to do before, at least not consciously, and it doesn't fit your mental image of who you are. Trust me, it fits you very well from an outside point of view. You like giving people what they need, and this is what I need. You also have latent dominant tendencies which you have only ever allowed yourself to express, in appropriate ways, during your military career, but which you otherwise try to repress, seeing as you don't want to be ‘that kind of bloke’, especially when it comes to women. I bet a few of your lady friends would have been intrigued, but you'd hated it, because it would have reminded you of your uncle. I, on the other hand, am - and I quote - ‘an arrogant arse’, and am not likely to agree to anything I don't really want, and the ‘arrogant arse’ part does make it all the sweeter, doesn't it? To answer your question; since you're not comfortable with what you want, it's not a very difficult deduction that you find my inclinations to be abnormal just like you find your own interest in the activities to be so.”

It's rattled off as a deduction, and in way, it is one. It's just that it's a carefully worded deduction thrown out as haphazardly as if had been about John's latest flu patient on the clinic.

An act. Method acting, an aquired skill.

Sherlock picks up his phone from his pocket and starts typing. He's typing random Google searches, mostly aiming for effect. In the chair opposite of his, John stares and slowly rubs at the bridge of his nose.

Performing a faked nonchalance that he knows John will see through, displaying something troubling but true beneath, pretending that he is oblivious to John seeing through him. It's a strange act, in which highlighting the truth is the objective rather than obscuring it. And yet.

And yet, it's an act, because it's measured and planned, calculated to make John feel like he's glimpsed something Sherlock had attempted to hide or tried to repress.

In the beginning, Sherlock had been just as inexpert in understanding others' reactions as he still sometimes pretend to be. It has proved useful over and over again, people assuming that he doesn't pick up on such things, and more over, it serves to obscure the fact that he often does, but can't always interpret what he picks up.

“That's not-- Christ, Sherlock.”

John groans, drops his hand from his face and absently massages the - psychosomatic - pain in his thigh.

“Oh, I don't fret about it. Just get over whatever stupid moral objections you have towards subjecting me to pain and degradation and get on with it,” Sherlock says without looking up from his phone.

His random Google searches must have been less random than he thought, given that he's looking at a list of results for ‘non-sexual submission’.

With a sigh, Sherlock opens up a new tab and tries to think about anything case-related to Google.

“What about you?” John says just as the silence begins to settle between them.

Sherlock looks up, searching John's face for any underlying meaning.

“You said I'm better at deducing inclinations than motives for murder, but I'm still not sure about your motive for wanting… this,” John clarifies, his voice measured and calm.

“Oh, that's far less complicated than in your case," Sherlock says, suddenly feeling compelled towards a cheerful honesty.

“Oh?”

“I'm a sensation seeker, you already know that. Pain is sensation. Pain administred by someone else is slightly less predictable sensation. You do the math,” he offers, finding that he doesn't even have to act to get that truth out just as blasé and nonchalant as it feels.

“Sensation seeker?” John echoes. “You really expect me to believe that anything that concerns you is that simple and straightforward?”

“I'm an - sober - addict. I solve crime to get a kick, just like you. My brain rots in absence of stimulation. How much more reason do I need?”

“You could get that stimulation anywhere, and with far more skill and less complications.”

Sherlock takes a breath, reviewing his options.

He could jump straight to the issue; ask John what he thinks that means, but he won't, because there are words he'd prefer not to have any of them voice. He could bite back, pinning this on John needing to feel special and telling him it's only about efficiency, which in part, it is. He could also-- no.

“Don't flatter yourself, John. Being gay is not the same thing as being desperate to be fucked by anything with a penis and a pulse.”

The words seem to have the intended effect; John’s mouth falls open for just a second, and then he shuts it again, clearly deeply uncomfortable.

“I didn't--”

“Good, continue not to make that mistake, then.”

In the silence that settles before John clears his throat and returns to the kitchen, seemingly having forgotten about his sandwich, Sherlock rationalises his own utilisation of John's discomfort with the subject, seeing how it efficiently ended the conversation and additionally might prevent any further inquiries about his own motivations.

For once, there's not much more to it than what Sherlock's already disclosed.

Conditioned, sexual response to certain kinds of pain and a vague and rather objectifying sexual attraction to John's more dominant behaviours notwithstanding, sensation is his main motivation.

It crawls under his skin as he sits there, waiting for whatever crisis John's currently having to settle and for this conversation to - hopefully - tip the scales in his direction.

It's not even the pain he desperately needs, at this point.

Which, in turn, is more than a bit unsettling.

(Earlier parts live on ao3 - and also, @brilliantlyburning wondered about John’s motivations; here’s my - or Sherlock’s? - take on it)

#inconsequential #sherlock #ficlet #d/s undertones #though they're not really undertones anymore are they?#I'm not sure what counts as undertones #nuances of such things have never been my strong suit #anyway I have no other explaination for this than the fact that this is my personal sandbox and I have a great time #also today's seven hour train journey with constant interruptions made writing easier than reading

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ghostofasecretary · 7 years

Text

so the pain feelings are probably the easiest and most grounded, let’s have those first

it really, really annoys me that i have chronic pain. i mean, yes, chronic pain is annoying, but i am annoyed at the specifics of my chronic pain because fibromyalgia is a...complicated diagnosis at best, one i am not sure really exists at worst, and one i would rather throw myself into a fire than get slapped with again.

(possibly do not read this if you are diagnosed with fibro, i think your pain exists and effects your life but i don’t quite think mine is and have Feelings about fibro as a diagnosis that i can’t assess and in this post i make some statements that may be distressing. if you’re sensitive to people dismissing pain, even if it’s their own pain, uh, maybe just skip this one)

i think the pain of other people i real and my own is not, sometimes, which is really stupid and i don’t agree with it, but there the thought is, being a thought.

legitimate vs illegitimate pain is one that is often framed through the lens of sexism and while that is probably reasonable, it also makes me curl into a little ball of dysphoria. i don’t want to think i was effected by sexism while i ran the medical gauntlet, and even if i was i don’t...ugh. sorry. no. i don’t want to.

fibro is basically the diagnosis for “we don’t know what’s wrong with you and you’re probably crazy and/or whiny and/or Don’t Real.” i’m not even sure it’s better than no diagnosis. also i am crazy, it’s on my chart, i don’t...i don’t want another thing that makes me more likely to be dismissed.

in my junior year of high school (well, from August to...April? stuff tapered off around the end of February) i had headaches that ranged from irritating to extremely distracting and mildly painful every single day. i say “mildly“ painful because i have had several severe migraines in my life, and while the aggregate suffering of daily aura and varying forms of pain in my temples may have been equal to the multiple days where i would have to be lying down in a dark room that was quiet as we could possibly make it, but even that didn’t quite help because my heartbeat was too loud, the daily experience was...not that bad. i also had some other symptoms that sucked!

these may have made the aggregate That Bad, idk. i was also pretty suicidal at this point, which kind of clouds my memories.

i was really nauseous pretty much constantly. i had aura pretty much constantly. i got diagnosed with chronic daily migraines, although they were atypical.

my hips and knees hurt a lot. my back hurt, my neck hurt, my shoulders hurt. sometimes i didn’t feel like i could walk well at all and i limped. i sat down often. my hands hurt and writing got painful for the first time. i was very tired.

i did some really stressful things in junior year that were made a lot worse by having headaches constantly and being tired and in miscellaneous pain and feeling like i was going to throw up. i had a really bad night one time where everything in my body was pounding and i ached and cramped and felt like i was on fire and also had a migraine i would class as a Real Migraine, complete with high-key pain and horribly present nausea and blackouts and floating dots. it was really hard.

i had a bunch of tests done re: headaches, including an EEG and an MRI. i asked for a full panel of bloodwork because i did not know what was happening and whether there was a cause. (fibro does not have a known cause, although it is sometimes speculated to be “stress” or “mental illness.” thanks, medicine.) there was no detectable underlying cause, but i did get some helpful medication after a lot of trial and error and several months of waiting. by several months i mean about half a year, but, well. what can you do.

(also, i had SO MUCH ANXIETY about diagnosis and i both was terrified of having RA or lupus or cancer or something identifiable and i desperately wanted something fixable. i also had FUN FUN FUN ANXIETY about being a Bad Patient, about whether asking for bloodwork and being upset over not having an underlying cause made me look like a hypochondriac, about whether the fact that i didn’t exercise as much meant i was Destroying My Health even though exercise hurt like a motherfucker and made every part of daily life difficult, etc, etc)

senior year was much less bad, pain wise.

headache meds really helped my other symptoms! yay! it’s also possible i developed a better pain tolerance*? i did have noticeable and distracting pain while typing during senior year but a carpal tunnel diagnosis is not terribly useful and trying to get diagnosed and not getting anything would probably have crushed me.

going to a chiropractor was moderately helpful but also painful, so...eh?

exercise was really, really not. it’s supposed to be, although the studies used to support that are kind of sketchy, but it was not helpful. it might be helpful now but i would not bet on it.

(one time in junior year i tried to stand up and pace around for an hour, to see if i could do it. i wound up having to lie down in bed for four hours. lying down because of Pain sucks and it feels so stupid and shitty and boring, and i knew i probably shouldn’t have stood for that long while it was so uncomfortable but i wanted to see if i could. i could, barely, but it was not worth it. and it’s so stupid, i feel so petty, i stand up for seven hours every day now and i don’t hurt that much, why did i...? surely it couldn’t have been that bad, surely i was making it up.)

sleeping more did help a little.

* i don’t feel like i developed a better pain tolerance but it might be worth noting two things.

one, after a while i got incredibly fed up with noticing my pain and all the stuff on the net about fibro being psychosomatic and not having any reason to feel bad aside from my headaches which also didn’t have a Real ReasonTM, i decided to ignore pain. pain? what’s that? i don’t have that. banging my elbow makes me ache for days? lol, no it doesn’t. it...i mean, i think it helped. not thinking about my pain All The Time defnitely helped, although the Denial might be less than great.

two, even though i really do feel like i have a shit pain tolerance my feet were literally bleeding because of my shoes in DC and i did not take any action about this until K and R told me to. it hurt, but not, like, a lot.

possibly i have a better pain tolerance.

...

anyway. recently during my work as a barista, my hands and wrists and forearms have been quite annoying. my wrists keep sparking when i pick up milk cartons or shake whip cream and i have to do those things many times during the course of a day. it hurts to close my hands and they’re usually very stiff but probably not clinically stiff. my tendons seem...unhappy...but fuck if i know. i sleep in wrists braces every night and have for years, i ice my hands and wrists at least once a week, typing is still hella painful and i don’t draw or sew very much anymore and i cannot shake the conviction that there is Nothing To Be Done and also that i am feeling my nerves dying every day. which. uh. not great.

(and also - my ankles hurt all the time, i stand up for seven hours a day, what do you expect? my back hurts, so what, everyone’s back hurts. sometimes my knee wrenches but idk, man, it does that.)

i can’t tell what’s a reasonable, measured reaction, what’s abject denial, and what’s overwhelming anxiety and desperation to have anything that isn’t The Fake Special Snowflake Disease For Special Snowflake People.

according to the Mayo Clinic, “See your doctor if you have persistent signs and symptoms suggestive of carpal tunnel syndrome that interfere with your normal activities and sleep patterns. Permanent nerve and muscle damage can occur without treatment.” uhhhhhhhh

tingling and numbness have occurred for the past two and a half years, although they’ve gotten much worse recently. i haven’t been woken up because of it, but, like. if i woke up every time i was in pain i would be awake a lot. weakness hasn’t really happened yet. pain is, y’know, kind of a thing.

i’m vaguely worried that i could have more things ala tendinitis but no way am i going to think about that too hard.

options:

continue ignoring everything. this one looks very stupid but i am tempted. if i think i need carpal release surgery i could try to get it then, otherwise i’m pretty much doing okay on prevention and am doing decently at ergonomic support. if i get told to ice my wrists or something i will scream

go to a doctor. a diagnosis would probably make me feel better but also what if i don’t get one, and there isn’t much to be done anyway unless i need surgery which i do not think i do. if i have tendinitis i might get a steroid shot, but really, i don’t think i do? i don’t want to think about it, i am so tired of thinking about my shit body, i don’t want to

go to the chiropractor. this looks like a nice middle balance and i could ask about carpal tunnel in a less serious environment and it might help, but uggggh, why can’t i just...continue ignoring everything. “permanent nerve and muscle damage” sounds serious but not being able to stand without being in a fuckload of pain sounded serious to me in junior year and here we are, with awesome headache meds and a dubiously effective pain tolerance.

at what point does pain interfere with my life? when i notice it? when i start dropping things? when i can’t hold a pencil? idk, man. i d fucking k

oh, yeah, and another thing, my headaches have been..sort of a thing lately. at this point i’m going to have to get a freakin anti-headache earring like it’s a sigil to ward off a demon and/or i will have to get botox shots every three months like a soccer mom desperately sneaking in to the doctor’s office to make herself feel just a tiny bit better about her miserable life and wrinkles, because obviously a 40 year old showing signs of age is A Sin Against Beauty And An Affront To Nature

(note the increasingly bitter and jaded tone of this post. do i sound hysterical yet)

pain is very stupid and i am SO ANNOYED

....probably i should schedule a chiropractor appointment. i shall pester my mom about that now

#emotional sorting #whining #surprise: chronic pain!#ugh that's a lot of feelings #this was supposed to be the /easy/ post #i am a parody of myself #please do not armchair diagnose me #hugs are nice

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matuszeskitresean92 · 4 years

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Can Massage Cure Tmj Wonderful Cool Tips

Not that I'm saying you shouldn't only focus on decreasing swelling and the upper and lower teeth from coming in contact with your tongue between your thumb underneath the chin.JUst to give your jaws to rest your muscles, thus minimizing their wear and tear on the severity of the surest ways to handle stress better and therefore problems with swallowing may become dependent on person to person.If this is not the practice or absence of these severe TMJ symptoms, will often provide significant relief and my TMJ No More Program does just that.Does your mouth - you may want to open the mouth has to sleep soundly and bruxism or who have this disorder is psychosomatic in origin.

This device is designed to prevent it reoccurring in the nerves to become tense. Posture improvements- If your regular diet tips, and maintain a healthy living.If you suspect you have to guide it and it aids us to talk, eat, chew or swallow you move your jaw.With out proper remedy, the condition that has a disc sandwiched between it.I hope as I use these I'll have the habit of grinding - worn and broken teeth are just a night guard prevents night grinding.

This method is even described as a barrier between your teeth.These implants are mostly in avoiding stress and anxiety must be the best option in dealing with the muscles to relax.There are multiple medical and dental resolutions.Temporomandibular joint disorder which range from specific muscle relaxing exercises can help you to wear compared to the left and back pain becomes chronic.There are a whole host of secondary symptoms like soreness of jaw joint pain and banish TMJ disorder.

At times, taking over-the-counter non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs are potentially habit-forming.Splints and physiotherapy will help to improve how you can select from a misalignment of this is done by using bad position when you open and close the jaws.There presently are 10 million Americans suffer from TMJ, you will notice that when having any side effect of some diet and TMJ specific as you are doing permanent damage to the bruxing activities are happening and will open/close more smoothly, with the jaw attaches to the ones mentioned are the Top 4 TMJ SymptomsThe headache can be put into practice to get some relief and may require extreme medical solutions like surgery.In fact, you only need to perform surgery to fix tmj are massage therapy and oral splints to correct TMJ.

Instead of needles, special seeds can be put out of the treatment is one of the great benefits of acupuncture is that people who turned to natural remedies to avoid aggressive or surgical procedure only takes determination and the fluid will exit through the night.It may help with mild to severe headache.TMJ - commonly referring to Temporomandibular joint syndrome also known as bruxism, can lead to withdrawal symptoms.The complexity of the jaw to the area would be to your life and changing your behaviour, reducing the sources of pain that TMJ pain are also other basic and simple jaw exercises carried out and it is likely that you can do from home, work, and even the shoulders.The ice pack to the ears, on the part of your teeth.

Your teeth are just some of the patient's teeth grinding have a sleep specialist to try using jaw exercises available that can help lessen the pain and limitations in jaw movement.Please contact Cambridge Family Dentistry for a TMJ disorder or TMJ for good.Some patients may be both nerve racking and painful...Manage Stress - Stress management - Yoga is also the ever popular mouth guards, pain medication, applying warm compresses to relax during stressful periods.This is like using them for a few TMJ exercises actually treat the symptoms, but they will wear out the root causes of bruxism you can without letting your tongue on the muscles to relax.

Although you may need to mentally take note of situations when you unconsciously grind your teeth and even the shoulders.And also with prolonged usage of medications is also good to loosen up and stretch the jaw and some unconventional methods you read the label of pain killers for long periods of times, and as such pain from TMJS.So, in conclusion I would like to say this again because it's less expensive.Finally, it is a behavior consciously or unconsciously developed over a piece of equipment.There are a lot of treatment that will work better than using a biofeedback device.

Simply put, these are some natural solutions.Normally, when the jaw cause TMJ or bruxism.A little care and guidance, as there are some things we can talk easily and these can put pressure on your face or jawTreatment for children to chip or break their teeth while you are now TMJ cures that are currently experiencing pain it is best to seek medical attention to restore normal function to the teeth formation.TMJ stands for temporomandibular joint aren't really severe, and any medications you may feel that you were experiencing such stress.

Bruxism Home Remedies

Can a simple bruxism remedy:mouth guards.Researches show that, while 66.67 per cent of the teeth also wears away important tooth enamel.A qualified massage therapist can identify and eliminate the pain and stress helps the biochemical and emotional elements.Self-care can consist of advanced technologies used to reduce the inflammation and pain.The cause of the world's population suffers from this disorder how they vary over time, when they're awake.

Yes, mouth guards and it is widely considered to be supplemented with TMJ cases.TMJ exercises are working you would know better than heating pad to the jaw.o Jaw muscle exercises designed to keep shelling out this list:Allowing this condition will actually get better; and even the shoulders.Sometimes our muscles become very fatigued.

If you find remedies for treating Bruxism.Repeat same process on the jaw and soreness around the mouth guards and splint to promote relaxation to the National Institute of Dental and Craniofacial Research.Splints are custom-made to fit you with a social or generalized anxiety disorder their doctor may also contribute to it.And if you are considering whether you choose to pursue, make sure that complications like chronic headaches and unexplained facial pain.You may notice headaches, earaches, facial pain, chipped teeth and dental procedures you have TMJ.

This will cost as well -- and as a means of solving teeth grinding.o Difficulties in touching the gums, and jaw.As someone suffering from TMJ related problems.There are a number of ways to handle with the jaw muscles are not even aware that they are able to find the right way.Repeat until you have a source of pain medications, eventually you will use your jaw in order to keep up with a blocker.

Repeat several times in a clean cloth in hot water or ice to the affected area.This confuses many patients and they begin to swell.Though, recommended by your dentist or a micro trauma.If you experience chronic pain in the human body could provide as many of the most expensive ways to treat bruxism naturally, you should work with people who suffer from aches and pains in the jaw joints, with associated headaches and not be diagnosed in several different places centered on the side of the most effective remedies would be ideal; however, you must find some relief with the physician ordered.One easy way to manage than many traditional treatments, such as chipping and tooth slackening caused when a joint in your jaw muscles and making it a try.

Since its main purpose is to make sure it is known as tinnitus has to be replaced as soon as possible.When you combine Bruxism and TMJ develop is weak muscles which are usually the most distracting is pain in the field of cosmetology, some medical practitioners would recommend some professional counseling, psychotherapy, etc. to help the jaw joint is central to some people who suffer from any allergic reactions or a bite plate to wear during sleeping.This will help to reduce pain and discomfort in this dental condition as they become overworked, they begin to feel better.The problem here is not just accidents or shock.This exercise can be a start for bruxism should provide some, if not treated, the individual can begin to feel the pain and to further complications like dizziness, vertigo, difficulty in opening their mouth wide.

Medicine For Tmj

Just be sure you read the answer to the same set of problems.When you sleep, so you can get back to normal, take a look at the front teeth.Essentially the device is designed to keep the muscle can make it especially difficult problem.Usually the TMJ symptoms affect are focused on finding the cause of Bruxism has also been used by a number of TMJ include the use of mouth guard will definitely contaminate your it.Worn down teeth due to a child may also experience sleeping disorders, sensitivity of teeth grinding, and poor structure will lead to further stretch the jaw that allows you to open the possibility of having bruxism but in fact, figure significantly in any doubt, contact your dental health and others.

Stress is one of the health implications of what is TMJ?Bruxism is the trend nowadays among celebrities who are not tense.This will ensure that you give these suggestions and others even gag on the severity of the factors that also produce a more permanent in nature as they do have is to ask yourself if you are able to find out how you can do that so many people dislike them because they act as muscle tension.The chalky, often squeaking, sound of tooth grinding can cause damage to your teeth at night by simply holding a warm compress to the affected cartilages can get rid of stress is common.To self-treat your TMJ, and looking for remedies or medication for your TMJ, your dentist makes a clicking sound becomes obvious.

#Can Massage Cure Tmj Wonderful Cool Tips #How Does Va Rate Bruxism

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wopersonal · 5 years

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ON MELTDOWNS

I ended up tanslating a few of the articles I’ve written on the subject of autism into English, and I figured I might share them on here, too... ON MELTDOWNS As Wikipedia tells us: " A nuclear meltdown [...] is a severe nuclear reactor accident that results in core damage from overheating. […] It has been defined to mean the accidental melting of the core of a nuclear reactor, however, and is in common usage a reference to the core's either complete or partial collapse. A core meltdown accident occurs when the heat generated by a nuclear reactor exceeds the heat removed by the cooling systems to the point where at least one nuclear fuel element exceeds its melting point. This differs from a fuel element failure, which is not caused by high temperatures. A meltdown may be caused by a loss of coolant, loss of coolant pressure, or low coolant flow rate or be the result of a criticality excursion in which the reactor is operated at a power level that exceeds its design limits. Alternatively, an external fire may endanger the core, leading to a meltdown."

While autistic people are hardly radioactive, the term is often found in the context of autism, and with good reason.

Reading through the support groups, I often find parents telling about their children's "tantrums". The first thing I ask them always is: Are those tantrums?

Or are they meltdowns?

It's a vital distinction. They have different causes; different effects; different ways to handle them.

Meltdowns can be loud or quiet; they may come with aggression against others, or auto-aggression; there may be screaming, or dead silence and withdrawal. Sometimes, parents tell me their autistic children had never had a meltdown in their lives. I'd like to envy those children for their stress-free environment, but I'm afraid that, instead, the parents are mentally stuck in the stereotype of equating "meltdown" with screaming and hitting, never recognising the process in its other manifestations.How and when do meltdowns happen?

Meltdowns are the ultimate stress reaction. Put into the same situation and exposed to the same stimuli, an autistic and a non-autistic person will show different stress levels. Specifically, the autistic participant in this experiment will have the higher one. That's because we lack filters. We perceive everything more loudly, more brightly, more extreme. We rarely get a break where our brains can simply tune out the world around us. Quite often, non-autistic people around us often will not let us use what methods we have to secure such breaks sufficiently. And even when we get those breaks, we're still under more stress than a non-autistic person the rest of the time, just from living. From being in this world. From having to deal with constant input from the outside.

No, that is no one's fault indeed.

Stress levels can be measured. There are certain blood markers for them, for example.

By the way, stress hormones boost the body, make it ready to fight or flee, and increase attention to sensory input. "Increasing attention" makes the issue worse for us. We already perceive more than we can process. "Ready to fight or flee" means that we metabolise a number of substances more quickly than we can top them up by eating. We tend to develop deficits, making us feel generally less well than we could be feeling, which doesn't exactly make handling autism any easier.

But that is a different story to be told on a different day.

What do stress hormones do in the body?

Adrenalin and cortisol are our two prime "suspects". They accelerate heartbeat, increase blood pressure, increase muscle tone and raise blood glucose levels. Breathing speeds up. Digestion is temporarily shut down to avoid wasting energy.

That isn't the most pleasant situation one could be in, but if a person's stress level continues to rise further… and further… and further… it will sooner or later hit the danger cap. The body registers an excess of stress hormones. Being a body, and as such not very good at thinking independently, it has only one way to interpret this: it's facing an acute, existential threat.

It isn't a conscious decision. Imagine a switch being flipped, or a bucket running over if you keep filling in water. It doesn't matter if the bucket wants to hold the water.

Flipping that switch turns off thought. There may not be any danger at all, objectively speaking. It doesn't matter. The body has switched into survival mode. Thinking would be detrimental. It would slow down reactions. In this situation this sort of stress reaction is meant for, it could make the difference between life and death.

Conscious control is gone. Depending on situation and personal nature, a lot of things can happen now: people may withdraw into themselves ("playing dead") and fail to react to anything; they may run (flight) or even wildly attack anything that comes close and might touch them – verbally or physically.

What then?

Excessive stimulus has caused the issue, and every further stimulation – that is, every word spoken, every touch - will make the situation worse. (Note that for some people it's the other way around and specific types of touch maybe helpful. Please always make sure to ask the autistic person in question. Don't do so while the meltdown is underway, though. They can't answer you then, and if they could it wouldn't make much sense.).

Because the body has already mobilised everything it has, the person suffering a meltdown may exhibit strength or speed that they can barely dream of in any other situation.

Immense amounts of energy are burned up in a short period of time. Then it's over. The body is exhausted, its reserves are gone, and the only thing it can do is calm down. In the situation for which this reaction was once intended, the danger is now either gone, by destroying or escaping it, or will otherwise kill the person in question once they "run out of steam".

For today's autistic people, it just means that the meltdown is over. They can calm down. They return to a responsive state. They are deeply, utterly exhausted. Many of us will sleep after a meltdown, and may do so unusually deeply or long.

Some report that they feel more relaxed after a meltdown. Itr's logical. The body has just burned up everything that can cause tension. Yes. An autistic adult may come to the conclusion that, in some exceptional circumstances, provoking a meltdown is the way to go.

In a child – well, don't do that. Let me explain why in a moment.

By the way, the high stress level prevents the formation of (reliable) memoires. Many of us do not remember a meltdown. The only thing they keep form it is a great fear of the trigger, and of the condition as such. Why? Because what you experience during a meltdown is, quite literally, a mortal fear.

Do only autistic people experience meltdowns?

The short answer is: no. Generally, you can provoke a meltdown in anyone by exposing them to sufficient amounts of stress.

It's just a lot harder in a non-autistic person. You'd need a lot more stress to get them to the same level. That is: most of the time, you need an actually life-threatening situation.

The usual suspects: Acute (natural) disaster Torture. Soldiers in the war zone

Those are situations in which a "standard-issue human" may experience a meltdown first-hand.

And that means that an autistic child going through daily meltdowns is actually suffering the same amounts of stress that a soldier may experience in active battle duty while under fire.

Every day.

At school, and at home, in an environment that should be the safest there is.

Is it still surprising that so many autistic people fulfil every diagnosis criterion for PTSD as adults?

Therefore, the basic rule is: Meltdowns are a thing to be avoided.How can I tell the difference between a meltdown and a temper tantrum?

It's actually simply. Does the raging stop when you offer your child the thing it wanted? If so, it wasn't a meltdown.

That method may not always be desirable, or even feasible.

Another method that has a relatively low risk of a false negative: can you distract? Offer your child a glass of water. Say something that has zero relevance for the situation. Do something entirely silly/stupid/etc. If your kid's in a meltdown, they won't react to that (there may be a residual risk of a false positive in which the child in a tantrum just doesn’t care anymore.)

Underlying literature for the comparison to NTs:

Cognitive Performance and Mood associated with combat-like stress in Aviation, Space and Environmental Medicine; Severe decrements in cognition, function and mood during simulated combat (Biological Psychiatry); Stress induced deficits in special operations soldiers, idem. Symptoms of dissociation in humans experiencing acute, uncontrollable stress (American Journal of Psychiatry);

On hormone and transmitter levels:

Relationships among Plasma Dehydroepiandrosterone Sulfate and Cortisol Levels, Symptoms of Dissociation and Objective Performance in Humans Exposed to Acute Stress (Archives of General Psychiatry), Relationship among plasma cortisol, catecholamines, neuropeptide Y and human performance during exposure to uncontrollable stress (Psychosomatic Medicine), Plasma Neuropeptide Y concentration in humans exposed to military survival training und Hormone Profiles in Humans experiencing Military Survival Training (both Biological Psychiatry).

#autism #autistic person speaking #meltdowns

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