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#but we are in the middle of a mental health care crisis

enragedzombie · 2 years

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Vent Post

I've spoken before about how awful my local doctor's practice is but more things have happened which I need to scream into the void.

I've been called up for jury duty, I received my citation letter around the start of the month. In that time, I have been trying to contact my doctors office. Now, on top of the usual anxiety, I also have something going on with my attention and memory. I don't know what because the doctors are reluctant to send me for assessment (pretty much all of my stuff fits with ADHD but could also just be my depression which I've been trying to get sorted for 10+ years with this doctors office). So I'll set an alarm, it will go off and I'll see it and think "I should do that task" and then I either don't do it, get distracted and completely forget until the alarm goes again the next day, or I put the online consultation form in but don't hear back. With the online form, you're supposed to hear back the next day at most but the service is unreliable and eats forms.

It got to the point where last week I sent in a consultation form and never got e-mail confirmation which is when I knew something was up. I would have called in sooner but anytime you call the practice, they literally tell you off for not using the online service, they won't even take calls for prescriptions or administration, their first thing is to very rudely say about why call and then tell you to use the form. It's annoying because as I said, the form is unreliable. But, I phoned because the form I sent in on Monday did have e-mail confirmation of appointment but nobody got in contact on Tuesday and jury duty is now the next week.

I called them and the woman I got was very helpful, told me that she can make me an appointment with my doctor on Thursday as he only works Thursday and Friday. I thanked her and then e-mailed the jury duty people but they said their office is closed Thursday and Friday for the jubilee holiday. I phoned the doctors office back immediately so that I wouldn't forget and asked if I could get a different doctor sooner as it was time sensitive. It was a different woman but she was very understanding and told me that if I put in an online form they'll mark it for the doctor and they'll speak to me the next day (Wednesday). I thanked her and she cancelled the appointment for Thursday and that was that.

NOW comes the bad part. NOBODY phoned me on Wednesday. I stayed in ALL day, didn't walk the dog, didn't even shower because I didn't want to miss this call. I waited all day and then phoned the practice when it became apparent that nobody would be calling. The woman I then got was called Karen and let me tell you if I wasn't on the verge of a panic attack I would have found it funny, she embodied the name. She informed me that the doctor (the head of the practice) does not believe in GP Letters as it does not align with his personal beliefs. She says it goes against his principles. I didn't know what to say but I asked why nobody contacted me even to say that and she informs me that he moved the appointment to Thursday for a different doctor. I then informed her that Thursday would be too late, hence why we changed the appointment. She couldn't understand how the days events would upset me. I told her that I asked for a sick note, and if he would be comfortable writing one of those and note a letter, she then tries to say I did not ask for that?? She also tells me that I said they could contact me on the 06/06 which is the date I have jury duty. When you fill in the online form, I always get them to e-mail a copy of my consultation to me. I had my answers on a PDF in front of me which was e-mailed to me after sending in the consultation, I could see exactly what I wrote. In my answer, I wrote "contact BEFORE 06/06" and "sick note". The woman was getting huffy with me and began speaking over me as I answered her to inform me that jury duty folks don't accept sick notes for exemption and she knows this because they handle a lot of these. I told her that it says sick notes on the website and the citation letter as well as the e-mail conversation I've had with a member of staff. She continued to talk over me (bearing in mind I was in tears at this point, panic attack incoming, anxiety and stressed just the whole works because I was jerked around by the doctors office).

So when she talked over me again I told her to "let me finish" she then went full blown outburst on me about how I can't say that and not be like that with her. I wrongly assumed doctors office receptionists had to have some understanding of mental health situations, be able to deal with panic attacks, emergencies etc but apparently not they can just be assholes to people in panic mode. So, she tells me to wait and she'll phone back after asking the doctor about sick notes rather than a GP letter.

She calls back and tells me he still will note write even a sick note as it is against his principles/personal beliefs. I was speechless, because they'd utterly screwed me over and I didn't know where to go from there. She then tells me it was "unfair to only give them two days notice for a doctors note and I shouldn't have expected it anyway". I very politely informed her that I had been trying to get in touch for quite some time at this point. She very rudely again told me that "other patients have gotten in touch". I didn't know what to say to that either and was just shutting down as that's what I do at this point, but she then adds "you managed to get in touch today". So I thanked her and hung up the phone. On top of the anxiety I have of just having to call the place (which we are told not to do) I had to deal with that nonsense. Now I have to wait for my regular doctor to call today (hopefully) and then take the note with me on Monday and hope they accept it which I was told was my only other option by the jury people via e-mail.

This place is hell and I'm changing practices as I cannot keep going to this place it will kill me. I've debated reporting the issue with the receptionist and perhaps the doctor but I don't know if I should. I really wish I'd reported the last incident but my mother talked me out of it. The doctor I had back then left the practice (she was a temp as people are constantly leaving the practice) and I was on medication and a waiting list for mental health services. I had to find a new doctor for my medication after she left and the doctor I spoke to after basically listened to my symptoms and how I felt suicidal and told me "I don't really think you're depressed, you have a cushy life" she then told me to get back to work and stopped my medication without renewal for lowering the dosage which meant I was sick for a time after since I stopped a high dosage I'd been taking for months in a day. The place is shocking and I'm still not sure what to make of it.

#probs delete later #doctor's practice #zombietalks #personal #vent post #we have good physical health care #but we are in the middle of a mental health care crisis #and I am not surprised given how my doctors office is #half don't believe in mental health problems #the other half don't want to take action #and one doctor actually listens and tries to help #I just feel very tired and done after this #like I want to kill myself and not deal with this anymore #but I also won't cause I live for my dog and can't do that to him #which is cliche but lol it keeps me going #tw:suicide mention

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slyandthefamilybook · 6 months

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since we now know that all those "my blog is safe for Jewish people" posts are bullshit, here are some Jewish organizations you can donate to if you actually want to prove you support Jews. put up or shut up

FIGHTING HUNGER

Masbia - Kosher soup kitchens in New York

MAZON - Practices and promotes a multifaceted approach to hunger relief, recognizing the importance of responding to hungry peoples' immediate need for nutrition and sustenance while also working to advance long-term solutions

Tomchei Shabbos - Provides food and other supplies so that poor Jews can celebrate the Sabbath and the Jewish holidays

FINANCIAL AID

Ahavas Yisrael - Providing aid for low-income Jews in Baltimore

Hebrew Free Loan Society - Provides interest-free loans to low-income Jews in New York and more

GLOBAL AID

American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee - Offers aid to Jewish populations in Central and Eastern Europe as well as in the Middle East through a network of social and community assistance programs. In addition, the JDC contributes millions of dollars in disaster relief and development assistance to non-Jewish communities

American Jewish World Service - Fighting poverty and advancing human rights around the world

Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society - Providing aid to immigrants and refugees around the world

Jewish World Watch - Dedicated to fighting genocides around the world

MEDICAL AID

Sharsheret - Support for cancer patients, especially breast cancer

SOCIAL SERVICES

The Aleph Institute - Provides support and supplies for Jews in prison and their families, and helps Jewish convicts reintegrate into society

Bet Tzedek - Free legal services in LA

Bikur Cholim - Providing support including kosher food for Jews who have been hospitalized in the US, Australia, Canada, Brazil, and Israel

Blue Card Fund - Critical aid for holocaust survivors

Chai Lifeline - An org that's very close to my heart. They help families with members with disabilities in Baltimore

Chana - Support network for Jews in Baltimore facing domestic violence, sexual abuse, and elder abuse

Community Alliance for Jewish-Affiliated Cemetaries - Care of abandoned and at-risk Jewish cemetaries

Crown Heights Central Jewish Community Council - Provides services to community residents including assistance to the elderly, housing, employment and job training, youth services, and a food bank

Hands On Tzedakah - Supports essential safety-net programs addressing hunger, poverty, health care and disaster relief, as well as scholarship support to students in need

Hebrew Free Burial Association

Jewish Board of Family and Children's Services - Programs include early childhood and learning, children and adolescent services, mental health outpatient clinics for teenagers, people living with developmental disabilities, adults living with mental illness, domestic violence and preventive services, housing, Jewish community services, counseling, volunteering, and professional and leadership development

Jewish Caring Network - Providing aid for families facing serious illnesses

Jewish Family Service - Food security, housing stability, mental health counseling, aging care, employment support, refugee resettlement, chaplaincy, and disability services

Jewish Relief Agency - Serving low-income families in Philadelphia

Jewish Social Services Agency - Supporting people’s mental health, helping people with disabilities find meaningful jobs, caring for older adults so they can safely age at home, and offering dignity and comfort to hospice patients

Jewish Women's Foundation Metropolitan Chicago - Aiding Jewish women in Chicago

Metropolitan Council on Jewish Poverty - Crisis intervention and family violence services, housing development funds, food programs, career services, and home services

Misaskim - Jewish death and burial services

Our Place - Mentoring troubled Jewish adolescents and to bring awareness of substance abuse to teens and children

Tiferes Golda - Special education for Jewish girls in Baltimore

Yachad - Support for Jews with disabilities

#atlas entry #please add any more you know of an especially add fundraisers for you or people you know #if there are any fundraisers for synagogues please add those as well #jew #jewish #judaism #jumblr #punch nazis

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johannestevans · 1 year

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i wanted to write a BIG essay on disability in House MD but the thing is that as it goes on the show plays and delves with the themes a bit differently - like in s1 they begin to introduce some addict stuff but not too much, and much less of the big grapples with house's own medical agency etc by his friends and coworkers

so i think i'm gonna do an essay series, set up some main themes around disability and autonomy in house

the first things will obviously be about the nature of house's own disability, firstly talking about his physical disability - yes, the lack of mobility from his leg and his reliance on his cane, and also the chronic pain that that comes with, but also specifically noting that house became disabled later in life and was previously extremely physically active

while the themes of house being an addict are extremely overstated because of the us' manufactured opioid crisis and its dehumanisation of addicts due to its racist and eugenicist "war on drugs", it's also noteworthy that he used to exercise all day every day on top of fucking and playing with substances on the side. no one minded this because his "addiction" to exercise was fun and sexy and healthy, bc he was making his own pain-killing substances rather than taking a pill

and then also talking about house's mental health issues - evidence of his autism and the way that people hate specifically his autistic traits, even when they're not actually causing them problems, and the way in which house masks and performs certain emotional responses, but more so like. his depression and his loss of identity as a disabled man, and his difficulties being OKAY with his disability when everyone around him hates disability

so apart from that evidence, the points of house grappling with this stuff will be:

house bonding with other disabled patients - in cases of chronic pain, lost physical mobility, and also mental illness and/or neurodivergence

and house specifically understanding disabled people's perspectives, or thinking about the PRACTICAL needs of the person they're treating or engaging with rather than what society cares about or what the hospital thinks is "appropriate" or "proper"

house bullying abled people for being Weird

times where house makes commentary about the injustice of the system (when he points out that the hospital is designed not to treat the poor, chronically sick, etc)

house being anxious and defensive of his own bodily autonomy (eg when ppl are trying to control his pain management or force him into systems that don't work, take over his medical autonomy, in general try to physically control his behaviours)

esp bc season 1 culminates in the stacy episode where we find that like... so much of house's trauma is not just being disabled

but the fact that stacy OVERRODE his desires, waiting for him to be put into a medically induced coma so that she could make "the best" decision for him and literally being the cause of his current disability. esp bc like...

she specifically went for the middle ground that he rejected, she was NOT a doctor

and in so doing she. invented his chronic pain. like there's a reason that in that same episode, we see the volleyball player who gets an amputation and is able to go back to sports - yes, house is a lot older than that volleyball player, but like

if he had either treated the infarction successfully or just got an amputation so that he could later work with a prostheses, house thinks he would have done much better

and so much of his TERROR around trusting others - not just stacy but wilson, cuddy, anybody else - is because of that. the one person he loved and trusted overrode his desires and created the hell he lives in where he's just in constant agony and he hates it, and the worst part is like

everyone tells him it's his fault. no one cares about what stacy did to him, that she manipulated him. every day they tell house how terrible it is that he does that to others, but when it's what happened to him and he lives in hell, it's on him because he's Mean and Too Autistic and he should just Stop Being In Pain etc

god it kills me.

BUT YEAH i think. season by season is gonna be a lot better to track the development of these themes and the way they shift and change from season to season - also idefk if i'll be able to stick with like. the last three seasons bc they just suck so ba dhfskjjgh

BUT WE'LL SEE

#house md #gregory house

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eruhamster · 3 months

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james somerton apparently left a suicide note on some social media of his and hasnt been heard from and twitter has been trending about it all day because the conversation seems caught between 'oh well we hope he didnt commit suicide but no one is at fault for that' and 'hbomb is a woke devil and killed this guy. i only care because i hate hbomb' and like

it's legitimately so fascinating how hard it is for people to see any sort of middle-ground. that a guy making huge amounts of money, over $30k/mo on patreon, to create hours-long, snarky videos exposing people for their actions, who clearly knows these videos are done in a way that they incite a harassment campaign every time... and who continued to bring somerton up on twitter ... might be at least partially culpable if it turns out somerton did commit suicide.

obviously somerton needed to be deplatformed, obviously his plagiarism needed to be exposed, but hbomb's videos like the plagiarism video essentially function as the new Content Cop and go out of their way to incite harassment and hatred of the person for their actions, rather than only bringing the actions to light. these videos of his are so long because they hammer home "look how bad a person this person is! don't you hate him? look at each and every shitty thing he did! isn't he so shitty?!" - the plagiarism video specifically being long because it did that on top of going "and look at this even SHITTIER guy!" multiple times until you reached the final 'most shitty guy' of james somerton.

and it even struck me back then how malicious that video was when i couldn't make it past the internet historian part, because he began that section by saying how he personally doesn't like the guy, and then went on to compare entire paragraphs of text that were nothing alike, and 'expose' this guy for what really amounts to a minor citation issue that was dealt with privately and reuploaded without an issue - he was exposing a guy for 'plagiarism' that was already handled and removed, because he didn't like him. and then went on to go and push on to expose an entirely different guy as 'even shittier!!!' - you can't so recklessly be making malicious videos like that and not be criticized for being the cause of a mental health crisis.

it is very fascinating to me that no one really wants to think about what everyone on the internet hating you can do to a person. but maybe that'd mean people would have to think about their role in somerton's death (if he did die, that is), and that's not a can of worms a lot of people are interested in unpacking.

it's really reminiscent to me of celebrity journalism of the 2000s. stuff like TMZ, tabloids, paparazzi are all understood today as having caused many mental health crises in their time. the digital version of it, youtube 'journalists' and the following commentary youtubers and twitter dogpiles can just as easily cause that same issue. this should not be controversial to say. it's common sense.

#james somerton #hbomberguy

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blurredcolour · 1 year

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What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

Austin Butler x Female Reader

Summary: The loss of your job, and most likely your career, in the middle of December has your parents sending you to the Bahamas in their place. Your intentions for a quiet retreat are interrupted when your path unexpectedly crosses with Hollywood’s favourite pretty boy – though you seem to have a lot more in common than just a distaste for frat boys. Will the pair of you be able to overcome your respective difficulties to ring in the New Year together?

Warnings: Angst, Job Loss, Grief, Moping, Crying, Non-Disclosure Agreements, Several References to Christmas, Alcohol Consumption, Mental Health Struggles, More Crying, Language, Intoxication, Catcalling, Reference to The Scottish Play, Fist Fight, Blood, Vomit, Hair Washing, Austin Takes Care of Reader, Hangover, Bruises, Mild Injuries, Kissing. Rating – T.

Author’s Note: Circumstances dictate the reader has at least shoulder-length hair, but no other descriptions apply.

Song Suggestion: What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve? – performed by Ella Fitzgerald

Word Count: 8125

“Have you ever been dumped by 875 people?” You murmured tearfully and a glance over at your new companion made you laugh self-deprecatingly.

His angelic face, crafted with a heavy potential for sin, was the very picture of confusion. You dabbed at your brimming tears with the cuff of your light cotton cover up.

When the bells all ring and the horns all blow And the couples we know are fondly kissing Will I be with you or will I be among the missing?

It was remarkable how a five-minute meeting in a conference room with people you barely knew could so efficiently nullify the last three years of your life.

You had been ambitious. Set on your career path. Confident that it was where you were meant to be. And you had given it everything since day one. Your vacation days had accumulated unused, and – at most – four sick days had been taken. You’d missed most holidays and family events, and the few that you had managed to be present for…it was more of a physical presence than anything. Sitting in a room full of celebrating friends or relatives as the chatter bounced around you, either deep in thought over the latest work crisis or thoughts completely blanked by a bone-deep fatigue, you were never really there.

So dedicated to making this position work, you had let your organization chew you up and now. Well, now they had spit you out. Words like ‘budget cuts’, ‘restructuring’, and ‘severance’ ricocheted through your brain as your numb body had relied on ancient recall and took you home. Not to your empty, barely decorated apartment. No. To your parents’ house.

Using the key you’d had on your keyring since junior high, you had unlocked the back door and shuffled in dejectedly. Your mother had looked up from the newspaper she was reading at the table while drinking her coffee and looked you over in shock.

“I lost my job, mom” You had breathed, and your face crumpled as the reality of it crashed into you with the force of a runaway train.

It had taken a lot of hugs and some homemade soup to stem the sobs, but at this point in your life your mother was an expert in this. Your father, upon arriving home from coffee with his friends, had soothed your ego by ranting.

“You’ve given that damn place everything and this is how they repay you?! Five days before Christmas?!”

Needless to say, your holidays had been far from merry and bright. There was comfort in helping your mother finish up the baking, but the astonished looks and questions from your relatives were wholly draining. And all of it was painted with the bitter brush of rejection. Honestly you had poured every ounce of yourself into that job, and it had been taken away by cold, impartial consultants.

The ache of loss was remarkably similar to a break-up. Not that you’d had time for any sort of interpersonal relationship over the past few years. It was shocking, honestly, how much you had built your life, your identity, around that job. And now you were lost. Adrift in a sea of get-togethers as the frenetic energy of the holidays washed over you.

Your gifts to your family had thankfully been purchased prior to the ignominious end of your burgeoning career. You definitely had a stubborn streak, and after consulting with a lawyer, you had refused to sign the non-disclosure agreement required to secure your severance and ensure your economic future for the next few months. You refused to allow them to control your life for one second longer.

As you had pulled on the end of the ribbon wrapped around your present from your parents, you could not help but notice the expectant look on their faces. You had raised an eyebrow curious and tore into the wrapping, opening the box to reveal a homemade voucher for one vacation in the Bahamas. You looked up at them with wide eyes.

“You guys I can’t…”

“Yes. Yes, you can.” You mother had interrupted with a warm-yet-firm nod.

“We already had the room booked, but your mother and I found a cheap deal later in January. You go now, we’ll go later” Your father added, pulling out his phone to forward you the confirmation email for the flight and hotel.

“But I…” In what seemed like a constant occurrence these days, you had felt fresh tears welling in your eyes.

“Go, darling. Go and relax on your first vacation in years and then come back ready to move forward.” Your mother had nodded, her own eyes shining with tears.

There were hugs and more tears before they had shooed you off home to pack as the flight left early the next morning. Digging out a few bathing suits, sun dresses, and other summer clothes, you located your long-abandoned suitcase and packed it all in with a healthy selection of books. You had wished you could feel more excited about the prospect of this trip, but everything felt so hollow and Christmas dinner had just tasted of failure that evening.

With a flight departing at five in the morning, you had needed to be there for three and seriously debated even trying to sleep. In the end, you did end up dozing a little before your alarm woke you and you headed down to the waiting cab. Check-in had been uncharacteristically smooth, and in what felt like no time you were sipping your complimentary beverage at 36,000 feet.

The stunning blue of tropical waters had come into view outside your window as the plane began its descent and you felt some vaguely akin to a smile lift the corners of your mouth. After checking in, you immediately went for a swim before settling into one of the lounge chairs on the beach. The resort was stunning, well-appointed, with a gorgeous view and delicious, included, food and drink.

After reading the same paragraph for the fourth time, you had sighed heavily and lay your book down onto your lap. It did not seem to matter where you were, all you could think about was the fact that they didn’t want you. Frowning bitterly, you abruptly stood to take a walk and clear your head. That ungrateful organization did not deserve another second of your time. You had grit your teeth as you pulled on your cover-up, tucking your book beneath your arm, and set an aggressive pace through the sand.

You had found this quiet spot, tucked back in the treeline, around a bend from the rest of the resort. It had called to you as a welcome, secluded, peaceful spot. It was where the blonde man now sitting beside you with a look of pure bewilderment on his face had found you.

“Oh I’m sorry, is this your moping spot?” You had sniffed, wiping a fresh crop of tears roughly as his shadow stretched across the sand before you.

“Not at all, but…are you alright?” He had knelt down in front of you, concern etched on his sharp yet delicate features.

“Oh...well…no but it’s nothing that time won’t fix…” You had offered a watery smile. “It is an excellent place for a mope, plenty of room if you’re in need.” Lack of sleep and the potency of those two drinks with the cute umbrellas had taken away your filter, it seemed. Or maybe it was the fact that he was a complete stranger, had no idea what you’d done in the name of that position.

He had chuckled softly and settled down to sit beside you, looking out at the waves quietly until you had blurted out your puzzling question.

“I…I cannot say that I have?” He answered hesitantly and you chuckled weakly.

“I got restructured right out of my job…right out of my career I think…I’m here out of my parents’ pity…” You clarified.

He frowned down at you softly.

“I am so sorry to hear that…that…probably feels exactly like breaking up with hundreds of people at once…” He nodded, finally understanding your question.

You nodded and slowly exhaled through pursed lips, emitting a prolonged ‘huuu’ sound as you tried to stem the flow of tears. Once you felt sure your voice wouldn’t shake, you turned and introduced yourself. Your mother had instilled good manners in you after all. He took your outstretched hand in his large, warm one, shaking it gently.

“Austin Butler. Very nice to meet you, despite the circumstances.” He smiled to you and your eyes widened as your brain actually registered the face right in front of you.

“Oh!” You exclaimed softly and cleared your throat, immediately feeling idiotic. Maybe they’d actually had a reason to let you go. “I loved you in Elvis, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He smiled warmly and lay his other hand over yours, squeezing softly before releasing your hand gently.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.” He sounded so truly touched, it made you swallow thickly.

He must hear that every damn day and yet here he was, responding as though you were the first person to ever say that to him.

“At least it’s beautiful here…” You turned back to look out over the cerulean blue water lapping at the white sand at your feet.

“Hmmmm.” He intoned in agreement beside you. “Though in all truth, I did come here for a mope…” He murmured softly and you found yourself swallowing painfully again.

“I can leave, if you’d li…”

“No. No, truly you got here first today, I can just…”

“No need!” You cut him off quickly in return. “As I mentioned, there is more than enough space…”

He nodded in agreement, leaning back against the base of one of the trees beside you. You did the same, enjoying the companionable silence with only the sounds of nature around you. Until he gave a long, heavy sigh before clearing his throat.

“I thought I needed some quiet time. The press, the appearances, the filming…it’s just all been so much since June. Got here last night. Never felt more alone in my whole life. So…I appreciate the group mope.” You noted that Tennessee twang haunting his vowels and glanced at him with a half-smile.

“Everyone else is so excited to be here and in full vacation mode.”

“It is a lot.” He agreed before falling quiet again.

There were further sporadic conversations between the pair of you – he recommended the place he ate dinner at last night, you shared that the drinks had remarkably generous pours for an all-inclusive. But mostly you enjoyed the sounds of the water lapping at the shore, the fronds of the palms rustling above you, the birds singing further into the jungle. It was calming, soothing. The shadows grew longer as the sun sank lower in the sky before you until it was almost slipping below the sea.

Eventually your stomach refused to suffer your willful denial any longer and emitted a voracious growl that had both of you laughing softly.

“I’m going to go grab some dinner.” You admitted defeat, shifting to stand carefully.

“I’m going to stay here a while longer…but I’m sure I’ll see you around?” He finished his statement of surety with a question, forcing a ghost of a smile the flit across your lips.

“You will. Have a lovely evening.” You nodded and he smiled and nodded in return before you made your way back.

Dinner was delicious, just as he said it would be, and the bed wasn’t bad either. You felt a little more rested the next day, and maybe just a little less frayed at the edges. It was reassuring, in some odd kind of way, that even those who were happy in their careers still experienced strife. That you were not the only one on this tropical island feeling less than your best.

Maybe it's much too early in the game Ah, but I thought I'd ask you just the same What are you doing New Year's, New Year's eve?

After breakfast, you settled by the pool this time, wanting a little more shade than the beach seemed to afford. It was a woeful misjudgement as the high-pitched excitement of children gave way to lower pitched excitement of a pack of frat boys on winter break. It was an environment utterly inconducive to reading your book, but that stubborn streak of yours reared its ugly head, and you sat there forcefully reading that book. That is, until an over-sized man child did a cannonball into the pool nearby and sprayed you and the woman beside you with the water displaced by his body.

“god damnit” You hissed bitterly and frantically blotted at the water quickly seeping into the pages of your book, making them warp before your very eyes.

You felt a pressure on the back of your lounger and snapped you head back, expression immediately softening to see Austin standing there gripping the cushion with one hand, carrying a tray of coffee and smoothies in the other. He was so utterly gorgeous in his Anaheim ducks muscle shirt, shorts, and baseball cap that you once again felt incredibly moronic at not immediately recognizing him yesterday.

“Morning. If you are looking for a quiet poolside to read at, my villa has one that is completely empty.” He offered quietly and you raised your eyebrows.

“Are you….are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude?” You swallowed.

“I think you’ve more than proved that you are not intrusive yesterday. In fact, you proved that I made quite a mistake coming here alone…” He trailed off quietly, eyes clouding over a little and you nodded quickly, collecting your things and following him.

He wove his way through the courtyard and down a quieter path towards the waterfront. Close behind, your eyes widened as you came to a row a villas, decently spaced with foliage-covered privacy walls separating them. Austin pulled out his key card and swiped at the lock, holding the door open for you.

“Straight back through the kitchen.” He smiled warmly and you slid past him, the distinctly fresh scent of his cologne tickling your nose. Your eyes adjusted to the change in light from brilliant sunshine to sheltered indoors and you took a moment to cast your eyes around the thoughtfully designed room. It was bright, luxurious, and just the right mixture of welcoming and immaculate. Well, except where his suitcase sat in the corner with clothing spilling from it, and the scatter of books and the guitar laying on the crisp bedspread. Refraining from comment, you continued through the space, passing the spa-like bathroom before reaching the kitchen at the back of the space. Opening the massive sliding door, you gasped at the infinity edge plunge pool looking out over the ocean. Silent, as promised.

“Thank you again, this is…so lovely of you…” You hesitated as you looked over the two lounge chairs, uncertain which he would prefer.

Answering your unspoken question, he set the tray of drinks down on one, and thus you settled onto the other.

“Not at all.” He waved off your gratitude easily, stepping back inside to grab one of the books you’d seen on the bed.

You settled back onto the chaise, eyeing the landscaping that somehow obscured the view from the beach but allowed a gorgeous vista from where you sat. You looked up to see a covering over the small patio and sighed happily as you had secured your peace and your shade. Austin settled onto the chaise beside you and opened up his book. You smiled warmly before doing the same, settling into the story finally…until you came across a line that had your mind spinning and circling back to your newfound unemployment.

Staring out over the water, thinking of everything and nothing at all, you jumped as Austin spoke beside you.

“You seem pensive…” He said gently and you looked to him sheepishly.

“It’s…it’s funny. It was ‘just a job’ but, well, I’m getting that feeling like.” You felt as though you were groping for words in a dark room. “Like how can the rest of the world keep going on when mine has ended? Like when someone dies.” You scrunched your nose at yourself. “How overly dramatic is that…” You muttered with a sigh.

“What you feel doesn’t have to be rational” He replied gently. “If you feel it, it’s valid and real…”

You looked over to him softly and swallowed at the tightness in your throat.

“Thank you.” You nodded.

“What was your position like?” He coaxed you into speaking more about yourself than you were honestly accustomed to.

Maybe it was easier to speak so freely about it all because you barely knew him. Or perhaps it was because of the intense focus he bestowed upon you; the most attentive listener you had ever had the pleasure of speaking to. Whatever the reason, you took his simple question and launched into an in-depth introspection on your career and time with your former organization. It was revelatory, and more than once had tears springing to your eyes, but it was also cathartic. A eulogy of sorts, for what had been and what might have been but now would never come to be.

A distant rumble of thunder pulled your focus back outward and you looked out over the ocean to see clouds building.

“I’m…I just talked the best part of the day away, I’m sorry…”

Austin shook his head with a comforting smile.

“The storms come midday; the sun comes out again in the afternoon. But. You must be hungry, should we have some lunch delivered?”

You nodded dumbly, watching as he stood smoothly from the chaise to tower above you.

“I think I have the menus in here somewhere…” His voice floated behind him as he stepped back into the kitchen to dig out a set of menus for the restaurants that offered delivery to the villas.

Following after him, you made some food choices and he submitted the order using the provided tablet. You looked up at a much closer rumble of thunder and dashed out to collect your books and towels before the skies opened up in a downpour of huge, heavy raindrops. Leaning on the doorjamb, you listened to the soothing sound, inhaling the fresh scent.

“Twenty minutes” He spoke softly, coming to stand beside you.

“Amazing. Thank you very much…”

His only reply was a gently squeeze of your shoulder before he unburdened you of his belongings. A resort employee dashed through the rain to deliver the food right on time and you sat together at the kitchen island to eat with the background noise of the storm outside. As the rain tapered off, Austin suggested a walk and you happily agreed, exploring the beach in the opposite direction from yesterday before parting ways for the evening.

It became a habit for him to fetch you from the poolside in the morning, spending hours talking and reading and walking. By Wednesday, he was no longer holding back – giving you a full and honest picture of the stresses and strains of his exploding career. How difficult it was to just breathe, to live his life…some days, to just leave the house. The storm came every day as he predicted, before clearing to a once again beautiful afternoon. Sometimes you would swim in his private pool, or wade in the ocean. On more than one occasion, you caught him sleeping on his chaise, book lain on his chest; his sharp, handsome features eased to a boyish softness.

It was one such moment on Friday evening, the sky above you darkening into rich sunset hues, that you tried to sneak out to let him rest. You had not been able to help noticing how tired he seemed when you met him four days prior. Now, all his dozing was leaving him refreshed and glowing. Not to mention he was tanning deliciously from the beach walks and ocean swims. Today you had both felt rather low energy and had opted to watch a movie that afternoon before heading back out to read poolside.

It would be untruthful of you to claim you did not harbour a fragile blossom of attraction for him. It would be impossible not to fall for this man at least on some level. And his proximity on the small sofa while watching the movie had created a shimmering electricity across your skin. It was not something you were looking for or expecting at all, but it was not entirely unwelcome.

Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight When it's exactly twelve o'clock that night Welcoming in the New Year, New Year's Eve?

Gathering your things, you slid your feet into your sandals and shuffled over to the door, frowning as, in your haste, you had not left yourself with a free hand to turn the doorknob. Juggling awkwardly, you swore under your breath as you felt your metal water bottle slip from your grasp and stood very still as if that would somehow dampen the sharp clang as it struck the tile floor.

Turning to try and scoop it up and stop the metallic ringing as the bottle continued to vibrate, you winced as you saw a very drowsy Austin stumbling toward you.

“I’m so sorry, I’m such a klutz. I was trying to let you sleep…” You apologized as you straightened with the bottle secure in your hand once more.

He inhaled deeply, shaking his head as he scrubbed the last vestiges of sleep from his features with his hand.

“No, no it’s fine…I.” You watched as he licked his lips and rocked a little on his bare feet. “Would you…like to stay for dinner?” He managed to ask.

And suddenly everything felt different. With that one question, your alliance forged to enjoy a quiet vacation was transformed into something more. Your palms were quickly damp, the newly secured grip on your water bottle once again tenuous. Your heart skittered against your ribs, completely forgetting its normal rhythm.

“S…sure.” You smiled, hoping it wasn’t too bright and your voice was not as high pitched as it sounded to your own ears.

You noticed his shoulders relax as he smiled radiantly, heading back to the kitchen to grab the menus. You followed quickly, setting down your belongings before you dropped anything else, and nearly smacked yourself when you realized you were fussing with your hair. He set the dinner menus out in front of you on the counter and you leaned in to look them over with him, shivering as the skin of his shoulder brushed against yours and sent a wave of goosebumps down your arms. Silently, you pointed to your choice, not trusting your voice. While he input the order, you carefully folded your towel and properly stacked your things.

“I’m just going to change out of my swim trunks, did you want to eat outside at the table on the patio?”

You nodded quickly with a smile and went out to make sure it was clean, turning on the outdoor lights. Even the lighting scheme was thoughtfully designed, the pool glowing with light from below the waterline. You stepped back into the living room and located the pillar candles you had been fairly certain you spotted earlier, and set them in the middle of the table, lighting them with some of the complimentary matches.

Austin re-emerged in a pair of shorts and short-sleeved, collared shirt, making you feel remarkably underdressed in your sundress layered over a swimsuit. He didn’t seem to mind though, smiling brightly at the set-up. Digging in the fridge, he found some beverages and once the food arrived, the pair of you sat down to a thoroughly enjoyable meal.

“I don’t think I’ve once been disappointed by the food here…” You leaned back, shaking your head in awe.

“It has been a real treat to confidently pick from the menu and receive something that exceeds expectations.” He nodded in agreement, wiping those plush pink lips clean with his napkin.

Realizing you were staring at his mouth, you quickly gathered up the dishes, carrying them back to the trays waiting in the kitchen. As you turned to rejoin him outside, you jumped with a gasp to see him standing right there. His hands quickly steadied you, wrapping his fingers around your biceps.

“Sorry…just wanted to help or…something…” He murmured distractedly, his eyes notably lingering on your mouth this time.

You could feel the thumb of his right hand sliding up and down the inside of your arm, making your breath shaky. Looking up at him through your lashes, you gulped painfully to see the heated ocean blue of his gaze boring down into your eyes. You swayed closer, watching as he leaned in before pulling back a little, biting his lip as he fumbled with something in his breast pocket.

“I just…need you to sign this…” You heard the rustle of paper before he held out a folded sheet to you.

Hesitantly, you reach out to take the offer paper, laying it flat on the counter before reading it over. The effect of the words before you was remarkably similar to someone injecting ice water directly into your veins, instantly quashing any flicker of desire that had been building within you seconds before.

“Austin…you want me to sign an NDA? Just for the privilege of kissing you?! I wouldn’t sign one of these to get thousands of dollars in severance, and you’d think I’d sign one now?!?!” Maybe if your heart wasn’t so bruised you would have been more understanding, but that was not the state you were in. “Clearly you don’t trust me, and I have no interest in building a relationship without trust. You’re just a fuck boy with fancy legal papers.” Not daring to look at his face, you grabbed your pile of possessions and stormed out of the villa, leaving the offensive paper on the counter behind you.

Maybe I'm crazy to suppose I'd ever be the one you chose Out of the thousand invitations you received

You had not realized where you were headed until you were halfway there. Clearly rest, relaxation, and whatever your relationship with Austin had been had not helped you process the devastation of your job loss. It had been time to try copious amounts of alcohol.

Three shots and one-and-a-half glasses of prosecco later and all you were was drunk in addition to angry and sad. You settled into the sunken lounge next to the swim-up bar and sipped at the remainder of your second glass of prosecco. It was quiet out here, the majority of the resort guests either inside at the indoor bar or in their rooms. Sighing deeply, you looked out over the perfectly smooth pool surface right beside you at shoulder height.

You supposed you would have to strike alcohol off the list as well, but there was no sense in wasting good prosecco. You could feel the effervescent glow of intoxication spread from your stomach and out to towards the tips of your fingers and toes. Slumping back against the plush seat, you sighed heavily, looking up at the stars that were doing their best to shine despite the light pollution of the resort. As your thought pattern devolved into some rather muddled philosophy about that phenomenon, you failed to notice the hoots and hollers of the approaching frat boys.

In fact, you weren’t aware of their presence in your sanctuary until a cold wave of pool water was driven over the infinity edge behind you and cascaded rudely down your back. Gasping sharply, you bolted upright and glared back at the oblivious, and clearly intoxicated, pack. Paradise lost, you gathered your things and set the empty glass on the bar before making your way up the stairs. Slowly. Your legs were full of interfering static, and you were not very confident your neural messages were getting through. After a somewhat shaky climb, you found yourself on the pool deck, and in the firing line of a series of rather offensive catcalls.

Tugging at the back of your sundress, trying to ease its revealing cling on your backside since its saturation with pool water, you did not even recognize how unbalanced you were. Frustrated and annoyed by the jeers, you were focused on the problem of your dress and not putting one foot in front of the other. Suddenly the world was tilting sideways at a dramatic angle and gravity had you in her cruel clutches, hauling you down into the pool with a bit of a shriek.

Utterly disoriented, you flailed for a few moments before your feet settled on the bottom and you surfaced sputtering not unlike a rabid cat. Thankfully you had fallen into water that only reached your chest. You clutched your belongings tighter to your body and started plodding your way towards the stairs. The sharks were already circling.

“Hey pretty girl, knew you wanted to get to know me better.” One particularly bold, and dramatically muscled, man-child blocked your path with open arms.

You eyed him coldly and shifted to continue on your way. He shifted in turn, continuing to be an obstacle.

“Please get out of my way.” You ground out. “I am not interested.”

“Oh come on now baby, you know you don’t mean that. Let me show you what a real man can do. I promise I’ll be better than that twig you’ve been hanging out with.”

He closed the distance between you, and you tensed in a perfect imitation of prey as a predator was closing in. There was a difference between you and a helpless herbivore, however. You knew basic self defense. Once he was close enough, your arm shot forward, slamming the heel of your palm up into his nose. The bloom of red blood pouring from his hands clasped in front of his face, combined with his howl, was soothing to your soul. Perhaps violence had been the answer all along.

“You goddamn, mother-fucking bitch!” He wailed and surged forward.

You quickly began to pedal backwards, fear prickling at your heart as the water slowed your progress. You heard a splash off to your right but did not dare break focus on the imminent danger to your safety.

Yet who would have thought the man to have had so much blood in him, you silently marveled, as scarlet painted its way down his chest. Your eyebrows arched in wonder at your brain’s decision to supply you with a line from The Scottish Play. You shook your head to clear it like an etch-a-sketch, trying to focus on the threat, until suddenly a collared-shirt-covered back obscured your view. Wait…you recognized that shirt…

“I am quite confident she asked you to leave her alone.” The man shielding you spoke.

You recognized that voice, too.

“Out of my way, Hollywood, someone needs to teach that whore a lesson.” The still-bleeding man roared, and you watched Austin’s fists clench at his sides just beneath the waterline.

Oh! It was Austin. You felt a sudden rush of anger again and, aided by the alcohol-induced lack of inhibition, opened your mouth to voice your frustration at the male sex.

“EVERYONE WITH A PENIS CAN JUST FUCK RIGHT OFF!”

A stunned sort of silence fell over the occupants of the pool. Your exclamation even halted bleeding bro’s companions’ progress through the pool. After a few heart beats, the men started closing in again.

“You gonna take that from her you shitty little pretty boy?” Bleeding bro snarled; voice notably altered by the injury to his nose.

“I’ll take anything from her. And nothing from you, you drunken lowlife. Now go…fuck right off…” Austin growled, muscles on his arms looking markedly more pronounced than you had ever seen them.

Your eyes widened as a bloody fist swung at Austin’s head. He easily dodged, before blocking the man’s other swing with his forearm.

“I’m not interested in fighting a drunk idiot, just back off.” He spoke more forcefully dodging and blocking as the man’s back up was nearly there, yielding space in the name of remaining defensive.

As Austin backed up, so did you, until you felt something at the small of your back and shrieked before you realized…it was the edge of the pool. Austin glanced back at you quickly and paid for it with a blow to the jaw that had his head snap further towards you painfully. Growling, he turned and went on the offensive, slamming his fist into the cheek of his opponent with a sickening thwack. His opponent wobbled in the water, blood loss and the hit compiling against him. Austin wound up for another strike, and you rushed forward, throwing an arm around his chest from behind.

“Don’t! Don’t, he’s a piece of shit, don’t let him fuck up your life.” You pulled on his torso, trying to separate them.

Thankfully the man’s back-up was feeling the same as you and collected their woozy friend, forcibly pulling him to the stairs at the other end of the pool.

The two of you stood there in silence, chests heaving, before Austin lowered in the water and reached behind to lift you up onto his back. You gasped and clung to his shoulder, cradling your stuff between your bodies as you wrapped your legs around his waist and let him carry you out of the pool.

“Room?”

“4…417…” You murmured, a bit stunned and shivering now. You pressed your face against his shoulder as he carried you, the alcohol turning decidedly sour in your stomach.

He set you down at the door to you room and you blinked up at him blearily.

“Ah fuck my card...in my phone…the key…where’s my phone...” You struggled to express the situation, but the English language seemed to have dumped you as well.

You watched in stunned silence as he reached into his shirt pocket and produced your dry, intact phone.

“I was going to take it to the front desk when I saw you fall in…” He muttered softly and retrieved the key card from the slot on the back of your phone, holding the door open for you to lurch and stumble your way inside like a newborn giraffe.

You did not notice the deep frown on his face as he followed you inside, gently extricating the items from your arms as you stood, wobbling and dripping, in the entry way.

“How much did you ha –” His question was cut off by your palm pressing to his chest as you pushed away from him, stumbling into the washroom as your body decided to rid itself of the burden of the alcohol still sloshing in your gut.

You managed to get the toilet seat up before you crashed to your knees and evacuated pure fire through your mouth and nose. It was horrid and you could feel it soaking into your hair, but you were held in place by the waves of stomach spasms.

You became somewhat aware of your hair being pulled back from the firing line; of a broad, warm palm rubbing soothing circles on your back until your stomach was completely and entirely empty. You sat up and turned to rest your back against the edge of the tub, watching through tear-flooded eyes as Austin flushed your sick and washed his hands before gently cleaning up your face with a cool washcloth. He offered you a glass with an inch of water in it.

“Small sips.” He advised as he dabbed as your damp eyes with a tissue and you obeyed wordlessly, shivering on the tile floor in your airconditioned room.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He murmured after you managed to keep the water down and leaned over you to get some warm water running. He cast about until he found your hair products and guided you to rest the back of your neck on the edge of the tub so he could wash your hair.

You stared up at him with somewhat glassy eyes as he treated you so gently and so kindly after all the cruel things you had said to him. There seemed to be a smudge on his jawline and you blinked rapidly to clear your once-again damp eyes, gasping sharply as the angry red mark came into focus. He froze above you, looking down into your eyes.

“Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry…” He murmured and you shook your head, staying still for him to finish rinsing before he wrapped your head in a towel. You quickly hurried to the minifridge and grabbed a handful of ice from the freezer, looking around comically before your eyes fell on the plastic bags wrapped around the drinking glasses to keep them sanitary. You freed one and dumped the rapidly melting ice into it before hurrying over to a bewildered Austin, watching you from the bathroom doorway.

You reached up and pressed the ice to the side of his jaw a little more firmly that you intended, making him hiss.

“S…sorry…” You murmured sheepishly and felt your bottom lip start to tremble uncontrollably, your only warning before the tears started flowing. “Oh god I was such a bitch and then you got hurt because of me and, holy shit here you are being all sweet and fuck me I am so drunk.” You rambled with markedly less than clean enunciation.

“Breathe, breathe…” He rubbed your shoulder gently with his free hand, the other cradling your ersatz ice pack against his face. “Deep breaths…” He repeated until he was satisfied that you were in fact taking in a healthy amount of oxygen. “Let’s get you out of these wet clothes, ok?” He squeezed your shoulder before heading over to your bed to find the folded set of pajamas. He carried them into the bathroom before guiding you in there. “You got this?”

You nodded pathetically, sniffling as you shuffled into the room and closed the door, striping off the wet articles before toweling off half-heartedly and pulling on the pjs. You blew your nose loudly before stepping back out and making a beeline for the bed. Bed was the only place you wanted to be. You crawled under the covers and nestled in on your side. You were vaguely aware of Austin fussing with the bedding around you, but you were quickly unconscious.

Ah, but in case I stand one little chance Here comes the jackpot question in advance What are you doing New Year's, New Year's Eve?

Consciousness returned rudely the next morning, presenting you with a throbbing headache and a mouth full of cotton. You cracked open a reluctant eye and winced at the daylight, quickly closing it again. After a brief regroup, you tried again, successfully keeping it open long enough to see Austin sleeping on a makeshift bed of towels and couch pillows on the ground beside the bed. He had changed into one of the complimentary robes and you realized he had been just as wet as you last night. You tried to roll onto your back and looked over your shoulder in bewilderment at the resistance, only to find a stack of pillows and clothes preventing your movement. Keeping you safe in case you had anything left inside you worth throwing up.

What had you done to deserve such a saviour? Well… you’d called him a fuck boy and told him to fuck right off for having a penis. You smothered a mournful moan with the back of your hand and carefully extricated yourself from the cradle of bedding before padding over to the Keurig machine to make coffee…a peace offering…the start of an apology for the mess you’d made yesterday.

You put the bed back into order, setting a mug on the bedside table above him before leaning down to cup his good cheek gently.

“Austin?” You said softly, biting your lower lip as his hand rose to cup yours against his face, those stunning lashes fluttering before his eyes opened the look up at you sleepily. “morning…” You whispered. “Come up here, there’s coffee…”

You swallowed tightly at the sleepy smile he cast up at you and slid back to make room for him to sit beside you. You cradled your own steaming mug, sipping at it slowly as he settled back against the pillows and looked to you slowly.

“I’m sorry” You blurted out before he could say a single word. “For the way I spoke to you, the shit I started, that you got hurt…” You trailed off, angling your head to eye his dark bruise and frowned. “For making you touch my vomit hair and deal with that and then you slept on the floor? I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, trying multiple times to interrupt but eventually gave up and waited for you to finish.

“I am sorry as well, for springing that…fancy legal paper on you…I really could have handled that better.”

“But I get it.” You said quickly. “It makes perfect sense and I’m sorry…”

He shook his head again.

“It still was not fair to you. I’m sorry.”

Your lips twitched a little and your pressed them together as you watched him take a sip of his coffee before he snorted a little and you laughed softly before wincing at your head.

“Did you take painkillers?” he asked and you nodded.

“They should kick in shortly…”

Silence fell as you sat there together, drinking your beverages. You eyed his swollen, marred knuckles and almost apologized again before sighing deeply and changing the unspoken subject.

“God I can’t believe I’m going home in two days…what am I even going to do with the rest of my life…”

Austin swallowed his latest mouthful and looked to you.

“Let’s start small then. What are you doing New Year’s Eve?” He asked with a sleepy hint of mirth.

“What, like tonight?” You blinked slowly.

“Yeah. Tonight. Might I tempt you with some non-alcoholic bubbly and an excellent view of the fireworks?”

You stared at him in stunned silence, your desiccated brain finding it quite difficult to process the fact that he ever wanted to see you again.

“Or…not… “ He awkwardly sipped at his coffee and you shook your head violently.

“Love to, sounds wonderful. I’ll just need about eight hours more sleep.” You nodded and he looked at the bedside clock.

“So I’ll see you at five?” He grinned cheekily.

“Make it seven, I need to fix this.” You pulled on the towel to reveal your epic bedhead, earning a chuckle.

“Sounds perfect. See you at seven then.” He swallowed the last of his coffee before squeezing your knee and sliding from the bed. “Drink lots of water.” He reminded you in a motherly way before heading out.

You sat there for a good ten minutes, immobilized by the thought that he wanted to spend a rather important evening with you. Especially after your messy behaviour over the past twelve hours. The sound of a happily giggling child running down the hall jarred you out of your mental trap and you shifted to your feet, hanging the do-not-disturb card on the door handle. Using the pants hanger from the closet, you pinched the curtains shut and put on some white noise on your phone. Setting the alarm for five, you slid back into the bed and easily fell back asleep.

The next time you woke you were much more rested. Not fully yourself, but no longer a mere husk. You went through the shower and took some time to get ready. There was just one clean sundress left in your wardrobe, so your choice of clothing was made for you. You arrived at the villa, right on time, and had barely knocked before Austin opened the door with a warm smile.

“Hey.” Your smile echoed his automatically, as your eyes drank in his white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up and accompanying pair of dark slacks.

“Hey, c’mon in.” He stepped aside and you slid past him, smiling as the space was lit with candles and you were pretty sure Elvis was playing over the speakers. “I made a bold move and ordered dinner, let me know if you hate what I picked?”

You stepped out onto the patio and looked it all over.

“It looks amazing, Austin. Thank you.” You nodded softly and the two of you sat down to enjoy it.

The playlist did indeed include Elvis, but there was also some Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Ella Fitzgerald, Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline and more greats included as well. Conversation between the two of you flowed easily despite all that had transpired. Once dessert was finished though, a serious expression seemed to arrive on his features.

“I know I’ve shared with you…how difficult it’s been these past few months. I’m…well at heart I’m just an average person, but I’ve chosen a very public career and it comes with costs. And I do anything I can to protect my privacy, because I don’t particularly enjoy people discussing my coffee run or if my relationship with so-and-so is real or PR. That’s why I have the NDA. My publicist got it for me, and I’ve used it in the past with very different women. You…you are nothing like them. So, I need to apologize fully and try to explain and…” He trailed off as you reached out to squeeze his hand carefully.

“Truly, it was…a shock but it was not the worst thing that’s happened to me. I, I am just so very reactionary right now. And I…exploded from a very selfish, knee-jerk place. So, I need you to know that I’m extremely sorry for what I said to you last night.” You looked to his eyes earnestly, the corners of your mouth lifting as he laced his fingers through yours warmly.

You watched as he lifted your entwined hands to press his lips to the back of yours gently.

“Thank you. I will stop now before I apologize again.” He smirked a little. “I found a box of dominoes, do you know how to play?” He started to collect the dishes and you immediately helped.

“I play like once a year so a refresher or the rule book will be necessary.” You laughed and worked with him to set up the table for Mexican train dominoes.

“The kit seems to have lost the markers…do you have anything to use?” He asked, pulling a ring off his finger, trying to smother a wince that you definitely noticed.

“Uh…” You looked around and spotted some white quartz in a planter beside you. “I am ready.” You grinned.

The next few hours passed during the course of several highly competitive rounds of dominoes. He beat you soundly, winning five of the seven games, before you admitted defeat. After the game was packed up, you were on your way to put it back on the shelf when Ella Fitzgerald’s rendition of What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve? started playing. You looked to him with an astonished grin and he glanced at his watch, nodding.

“Right on time…dance with me?” He offered his hand, and you took it gently, glancing at the clock on the microwave to see it was four minutes to midnight.

“Did you….time this playlist?!” You breathed in awe as he pulled you close, swaying with you on the patio.

“You bet I did.” He grinned down at you proudly and you swallowed visibly at that renewed proximity to him. “May I kiss you?” He barely whispered and you inhaled sharply.

“But I didn’t sign – ” You stuttered.

“Fuck publicists and their fancy legal papers.” He breathed, his lips just inches from yours. Struck speechless, you nodded wordlessly.

As his silky, soft lips settled against yours you sighed contentedly through your nose. His arms pulled you tighter as the distance sound of cheering echoed across the water. The first thunder of fireworks startled you apart, and you took a moment to appreciate the fireworks reflecting across the water before turning back to resume your tender kisses.

The strains of Auld Lang Syne, punctuated by the boom of fireworks across the ocean, sounded around you. And for the first time, the end of your old life felt like it might be the beginning of a new one.

Ah, but in case I stand one little chance Here comes the jackpot question in advance What are you doing New Year's, New Year's Eve? Oh, what are you doing New Year's Eve?

>>> return to masterlist

#austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler x fem!reader #austin butler x y/n #austin butler angst #austin butler fluff #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic #austin butler #blurredcolour

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soldier-poet-king · 1 year

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I love my Nonna dearly but I also just got my first real "here's how you should find a man" advice so truly 2023 IS my Charlotte Lucas year

To be fair, I'll give them credit, this is one of the first times my family has pulled this shit on me. I suppose my "I'm too busy focusing on school" excuse that I used through all 8 years of undergrad and grad school doesn't really work now that I've been working full-time for a year. And she also didn't bring it up in front of everyone or out of the blue, it came up because we had been discussing how insane my motherhas been about babies lately and my Nonna said "oh it's BC she's waiting for grandkids"

And like??? Just because my mother got married and had kids by my age (which may have been the right decision for her, this isn't judging even if I think her life went to shit bc of it) doesn't mean it's the right decision for ME

In fact, it is the ABSOLUTE WRONG decision for me. Theres a whole long list of reasons why I'm not getting married + or having children, including but not limited to: the trauma of my parents marriage and my childhood, my own ongoing health stuff, the whole religious queer anxiety guilt complex I've got going, the fact that if I were to get pregnant the resulting mental health crisis and dysphoria would undoubtedly make me *** y'know not soemthing that is frequently a source of nightmares for me or anything, my inability to take care of myself let alone CHILDREN, and the anxiety of raising children religious when I don't even know wtf is going on with me, CHILDREN??? IN THIS ECONOMY????

Ofc I can't exactly say any of this to my Nonna who, while incredibly sweet and loving and Good, is also like. Not at all exposed to these concepts and would probably freak out if I was like hello yes I am a big fat queer and I rlly hate the concept of gender and societal ideas of womanhood :) it also doesn't help that rlly the only single, middle aged woman my Nonna knows is this lady who works at the church who is DEFINITELY a badly closeted lesbian but also she's super fuckin mean and condescending and no one likes her BC she's a bitch, on top of the whole being a badly closeted lesbian in a conservative heteronormative religious environment

Like even IF I were to get licitly Catholic married to a man. You wanna find one for me??? My Nonna was like "go to church more to find a man" HELLO??? WHERE??I GO TO MASS EVERY WEEK?? Every religious man I know irl is a radtrad women can't wear pants type or is a manchild. Even if I COULD find a normal man, he'd have to get real cool about some stuff real quick. In that forever dilemma of too leftist queer for the religious and too religious for the leftist queers. (Obvs your partner doesn't have to be your duplicate but I'm like. Generally being on the same page. The same BALLPARK. is probably conducive to having a healthy relationship, y'know?)

Besides a significant part of my having 0 social life is because I am living in my parents basement which is in a shitty not-a-suburb of mostly immigrant families with youngish kids or super old folks from when the neighborhood was built, so it's poor and run down but also super fuckin far from anything To Do, so it's the WORST of both worlds of urban sprawl. And I have no car. And I already spend 2.5 hrs a day commuting for work. And I'm chronically tired. And joining a fencing club or taking art class or whatever costs MONEY y'know the thing I'm trying to SAVE by living in this hell place???? She literally said in the same convo "live here as long as possible to save money" like??? YOU CANT HAVE UR CAKE AND EAT IT TOO as long as I'm living here I'm NOT going out and meeting ppl BC there is literally Nowhere To Go. Big box stores like Walmart? Yet another strip mall? The highway??? THIS IS SOULLESS HELL of neither nature NOR accessible city amenities

And anyway, I would rather be in a long term marriage for tax benefits relationship anyway. Not platonic, not romantic, but a secret third thing (jk but also serious). Like. Mutual devotion that blurs the lines and transcends labels. It could be completely chaste. It could not be. It's not a dealbreaker really. It's about trust and devotion and companionship and love. But also I'm insane and I KNOW how insane and obsessive I sound, and society prioritizes nuclear family relationships and not the weird ass shit I crave, and I feel too much too fast and would ruin any relationship I had even if I WERE to somehow find someone who prioritizes those things too

So like. It's fine. Most days (not all ofc, but I'm trying) I'm okay with this and being on my own and learning to cultivate my own peace and Goodness and I know who I am and what I believe and what I trust to be Good and I'm working toward that and I'm not sacrificing it for anything. But also. Can you give a bitch a break. Please. I'm so fkin tired

#franposting #my bday isnt even til JUNE #im going to bitch anyway #im genuinely really upset but part of that is bc my headache has come back #and its worse than ever #i might cry but my head already hurts too much #i got really good news at work and only the men in my family made a big deal #the women were just. meh. and ofc none of them have careers so why should ot be important to me?#as the only granddaughter ofc :))))#i am going. to crawl into bed. hair washed. lavender candle on.#do a lil meal planning. and then read or maybe just sleep.#tmrws goals after church are gym and grocery shopping before dnd #have to make my body hurt so much i cant think again #ofc bro 1 has claimed the car. so maybe i cant go #god. gos. i fuckin need to get out of here #but i literally cannot afford even studio apt rent in the city #and moving to one of the boroughs doesnt gwt me any closer to anything esp without a car #literally. just like. fuckin kill me #or find me a decently paid not soul killing job in a smaller city or even a town #where i could have a garden #or a porch swing. sit in. the sunlight

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lowcalheavyweight · 11 months

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Tw: vent, personal meanspo? (Seriously these thoughts don't apply to anyone else, I don't think any other people have measurable worth, i love you)

They won't care

They will never care and they have never cared, even when they thought you were sick.

You tried kindness and sincerity

They didn't like you

You tried being smart and helpful

They didn't want to talk to you

You tried making yourself interesting with hobbies and style

They didn't want to be your friends

You tried dressing pretty&sexy

They didn't care about you

Now you are trying being petite and fragile

They won't attempt to reach out to you

"You are too intimidating," "You're self-sufficient," "Independent,"

Wha-I'M LONELY.

TO THE POINT I'M STRUGGLING TO FUNCTION

I will beg for scraps of your friendship that you deny me for these excuses

My attemps to bond and reach out have left me with anxiety so crippling I can't talk to people without being convinced they hate me

I'm obsessing about my worth as a human being, desperately holding onto my "worthy" parts and crisis panicing when I accidentally got a burnscar cause that means my stock value just went down, right?

I use my body as a barganing chip and I'm too scared to do what i want with it cause my "possible worth" will be higher if I'm still able to become anything they want me to be, for the person who finally picks me up

My brain tells me I will be worthier if I lose more weight

My brain tells me they will just contine to look past you

I'm already on 24/7 sale, they will never pick you up

Never choose you

I've been reflecting on the past recently (can you tell?!??haha) and remembered middle school.

I was already eating quite disordered(without realising - in a soft binge cycle and missing hunger and fullness ques) and we had a schoolwork to "mark on this website your eating habits-food etc for a period of time and submit to the teacher"

If I remember correctly i think it didn't let me log a empty breakfast so I asked, in front of the while class "what if you eat irregularly?" and was then openly pressed until I revealed I mostly only ate once a day and sometimes missed days (once again, I didn't even really try to hide it, I ate a lot when I did and didn't think about food much, I just wanted to do my schoolwork properly)

My teacher then told me to eat something for meals to log them and I just got frustrated cause before, they had extra told us not to change our habits for this assigment

I forgot about it soon and only long after realised my whole class thought I had a full blown ed at that time

And all they did was - ONE person told me once, randomly to eat breakfast every morning, at least a sandwich (at least?? dude that's a whole MEAL) and report to them every day what I ate.

Honestly, at that point I was just confused but happy someone seemed interested in having a daily conversation.

They never once talked to me again.

And honestly, I was actually super sick at that time, not with an ed but severe depression and disassociation due to family trauma. Staying up 72h straight REGULARLY, fevers and sick all the time, severe memory loss

I was visibly sick,

with what they thought was an ed

And noone cared

They will never care, you will never reach anyone or anything else exept your ugw

Your worth will still drop cause your health, skin, mental capacity and wellbeing will drop it lower than your weightloss could ever regain

You will die alone, anxious and fuking pathetic cause it is all your fault anyways and noone feels bad for you "being so lonely boohoo"

You are the real evil anyways, otherwise you'd be worthy of love at this point.

Die like you deserve

Xoxo ♡

#tw 3d vent #ed vent #tw ed rant #tw disordered eating #tw eating issues #tw restrictive ed #tw ana shit #i want to be tiny #i wanna be weightless #i want to be weightless #disordered eating in tags #disordered eating thoughts #ed disorder #mean$p0

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eternallyanxiousandstressed · 24 days

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Major Tea Update

Okay, I need you all to be prepared to be absolutely pissed off. I mean, filled with rage levels of pissed off, because that's where I'm at, even if I have to also continue being totally and completely pleasant.

So, some time after Ratboy allowed me to have Luke by myself, unsupervised for the time I was driving with him, Ratboy filed a protection order AND a CPS case against me.

Ratboy says my suicide "threats" (me telling him I was going to kill myself and actually meaning it) were coercive control, which is considered domestic violence. Gamers, this is my state's definition of coercive control: "Coercive control" means a pattern of behavior that is used to cause another to suffer physical, emotional, or psychological harm, and in purpose or effect unreasonably interferes with a person's free will and personal liberty. In determining whether the interference is unreasonable, the court shall consider the context and impact of the pattern of behavior from the perspective of a similarly situated person.

Now, suicide threats or attempts are considered examples of coercive control, but see, it has to be used to cause him to suffer physical, emotional, or psychological harm. Um... Mine were legitimate actual mental health crises. I have messages with a crisis text line showing that for some of these, I was actively in a mental health crisis. I have psychiatry appointments talking about my suicidal ideation. I went inpatient to a psych hospital multiple times. Mine were not "used to cause another harm". Therefore it doesn't fucking count. Whatever, that'll be easy to prove with my texts to the crisis line as well as my medical records from my psychiatrist throughout that entire time.

Now the CPS case? He claims that I threatened to kill Luke. I have never once threatened to kill Luke, ever. In fact, I've straight up told Ratboy that I'd cut my own hand off before I hurt Luke. During my postpartum depression did I have thoughts of hurting Luke? Yes. But I was seeing a psychiatrist about them and actively working with her on it. And I haven't had those thoughts since, well, I was no longer in emotional distress because of Ratboy. Anyways, this will also probably be easy to throw out with the simple fact that, if he was concerned that I was a danger to our son, why did he allow me an unsupervised visit with him? Because, if he was actually concerned I would hurt or kill Oliver, letting him go with me unsupervised would be negligent on his part and well... That won't look good for him.

Anyways, CPS, without interviewing me or my family or even contacting me at all, has made the recommendation of no unsupervised visits, which pisses me off. How about you actually interview the person accused to figure out the whole story before you just side with the people accusing. Especially right in the middle of a custody battle.

But, if he wants to play dirty and lie, how about I play dirty and tell the truth. Ratboy was a neglectful father for the entire time I was taking care of Luke. Up to the point where my own brother watched Ratboy ignore Luke while he was screaming to play video games. My brother's exact words (just with names changed): Yeah while we were packing he was "taking care of Luke" while he played his games and Luke was just having a meltdown

I can also bring up all the times he refused to help me with Luke while I was so exhausted my legs tried to give out. And when he did, I didn't actually get to sleep because Luke started screaming and would just scream for 10 minutes straight and Ratboy didn't do anything. Not even when I suggested he feed him. I go out and I feed him and guess what? Luke calmed down!

Anyways, meeting with my lawyer on Monday to discuss where to go from here. She said she wasn't worried and that we could handle it so I'm going to try not to stress about it. I'm just gonna be completely and totally pissed off that he's stooping to completely lying now.

#the tea

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heyyallitsbeth · 6 months

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Trigger warning for self harm, eating disorder and suicide references Okay I've seen some serious stuff an uncomfortable amount in the past few weeks so i need to talk about this. A lot of men have been opening up about loneliness and this recent exposure of it has been called the "male loneliness epidemic". and ive seen a concerning amount of people talking about how its just men making themselves victims, or how theyre just incels. And guys. Guys.

Men can be victims of toxic masculinity.

The facts are, men are far more likely to commit suicide than women, as well as develop drug addictions and alcoholism. Men on average also have smaller friend groups than women. And this all stems from toxic masculinity, bottling up emotions, not being able to open yourself up to others, to make those connections and develop healthy coping mechanisms. People end up turning to drugs and self harm as a result, since they think nobody will care. And why wouldnt they think that? Society has drilled it into their heads since birth. Men are always told to tough it out, to suck it up, that tears are weakness, that boys dont cry.

I'm a trans woman, I remember distinctly all of these phrases repeated by adults, teachers, parents, friends. It's especially worse in western society like the UK and US where physical affection like hugs are far more uncommon, especially for men. I first experienced depression when i was in middle school. And despite trying to talk to parents and counselors, my condition wasn't taken seriously until I eventually had a full breakdown and passed out from not eating in highschool. Personally, I am very lucky. Two friends were able to saved me from a suicide attempt by calling me and talking me down in time. And I only reconnected with that friend due to my transition. We were able to reconcile about arguments in the past and moved forward becoming good friends. The other friend I only met because of my transition. My friend group grew when I was a girl, it was easier to be open and honest. If I was in the same spot only a few years prior, I would have been dead.

And people are making fun of these guys for opening up like this now, saying everyone is lonely, that its not a uniquely male experience. Like you do realize you are QUITE LITERALLY proving to them what they've feared, that nobody cares. And people are always saying "oh this is a trend why is this the first time people are talking about this". Maybe its because we just went through a period of isolation and that time locked in their rooms caused a spiral of depression that made them reflect on their lives? Maybe because as a whole we are experiencing a mental health crisis worldwide? Maybe because through the modern internet we've never been more connected than now?

Yes men have privileges, that doesnt mean that they dont struggle and have issues too. Their opportunities and privileges do not negate their struggles. Toxic systems hurt everyone.

Personally, I'm now doing better, although sometimes I do slip into that deep depression, but I have better ways of fighting it now. And I'm lucky to have some friends who I know truly do care, as well as a loving partner. And while they dont follow me on tumblr, I just wanted to say, Thank You to Evan and Shi.

#male loneliness #male loneliness epidemic #depression

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climatecalling · 10 months

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“We have come to believe we are entitled to be spared the hassle of caring at this detailed level,” the English psychoanalyst Sally Weintrobe writes in a recent book, “Psychological Roots of the Climate Crisis.” She argues that many of us struggle with a particular kind of neoliberal outlook; that we have been molded into the type of people needed to prop up the economy of consumption that has despoiled the planet, people who cling to the idea that the world can and should stay the same. ... If the goal is for the planet to remain habitable into the next century, what is the right degree of panic, and how do you bear it? Leslie Davenport, a licensed therapist in Washington State, is a pioneer in the climate-therapy field. ... “So much of what we’re trained in, in the mental-health field, is to break through denial, to work with grief, to motivate life-style changes, to facilitate contentious conversations,” she said, when we spoke on the phone. “We’re trained to do all these things that are needed to equip people to respond to the climate crisis.” ... Climate anxiety differs from many forms of anxiety a person might discuss in therapy ... because the goal is not to resolve the intrusive feeling and put it away. ... When it comes to climate change, the brain’s desire to resolve anxiety and distress often leads either to denial or fatalism: some people convince themselves that climate change is not a big deal, or that someone else will take care of it; others conclude that all is lost and there’s nothing to be done. Davenport pushes her clients to aim for a middle ground of sustainable distress. We must, she says, become more comfortable in uncertainty, and remain present and active in the midst of fear and grief.

#climate crisis #climate emergency #climate anxiety #link is to archive org so it is not paywalled

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mogai-sunflowers · 1 year

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y'know, i've been visiting your account for awhile.. and this isn't limited to your most recent post: if you're struggling that much with your weight and it feeling like a "gut punch" in regards to your transition and how it likely won't be available, try exercising, doing runs, going to the gym and going on a diet? it's not easy at all, it's harder than it should be, especially with your present disorders, which will difficult your path all the way through: but it def will help, even if just a little bit. you've got to try, or atleast attempt yourself doing it. ik it's kinda repetitive knowning that somebody has (probably) already told you this, but believe me— it's worth it. this world also doesn't care for anyone who is genuinely fat, which doesn't necessarily mean you should lose weight for that- it just means that the world is unfair and even the biggest differences affect everything/nothing. promotion in positivity towards individuals of these sizes will be ever so slightly affective, especially towards those whose health is at risk (for their eating methods). i'm just worried abt you, sorry if this seems disrespectful. i genuinely hope you get better, sending my love to you. ❤

hey anon, i'm not particularly upset with you because i can tell how genuine this was and believe me, i do appreciate deeply how you care.

that being said, it's generally pretty disrespectful to tell someone to do those things to lose weight, for whatever reason, especially when they're in the middle of a mental health crisis. i'm not saying this to make you feel bad, just saying that i and many others don't particularly appreciate being told these kinds of things when we already feel bad about our bodies.

for me personally, all of the things you mentioned are not feasible for me for many different reasons. i can't do most, if any, diets, because I have really bad ARFID due to my autism, so most of my diet is literally the only foods i can eat without constantly throwing up. i can't eat most vegetables for that reason, and i also tend to get very anxious with diets because they feel restrictive, which is actually the number one trigger for my binging episodes.

i cannot drive most places because i get too overstimulated on the road that it's legitimately dangerous for me to be doing so, so i can't drive myself to a gym, because the nearest gym to me is only accessible via highway, and i have inner ear issues so i get carsick at highway speeds so wouldn't be able to drive myself there. additionally, my executive dysfunction is so debilitating that many days, it can feel like climbing Mt. Everest just to make myself a bowl of cereal- working out is about 100 times harder than that on my executive dysfunction- and that's not even getting into how workouts make you sweat a lot, and I have really bad sensory issues with getting sweaty (and can't really shower on my own, which would pretty much be required after every work out)

i also very likely have an undiagnosed physical disability, because i cannot stand or walk longer than 10-15 minutes without my entire body hurting like hell, so consistent runs and exercise would be quite difficult for me.

i know there's no way you could have known any of those personal details about me, so i'm not in any way faulting you for that. but they're my reality and i have to live with the reality that almost all conventional modes of weight loss are not an option for me. my best bet is to stick to my current personal eating disorder recovery plan which has actually been a blessing, and work harder than ever on accepting who i am without having to change myself to do so. i won't lie, it's a steep uphill battle. but i actually have many more good days with my body image than i do bad ones, so that keeps my hopes up most of the time.

so yeah, for future reference, it's a bit insensitive to give fat people unsolicited weight loss tips, especially if they're in times of crisis (believe me, i've heard enough of those tips from doctors who never even bothered to ask my opinion /lighthearted). but i do truly appreciate your caring and hope you have a great day /genuine

#🌌written in the stars ; asks🌌#ask to tag #the world may not care about fat people but the solution for that isnt fat people losing weight #its just making the love louder than the hate

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horrorhorizon · 6 months

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I genuinely do not understand how people choose not to side with Palistine. Like bro this is an open book test and you are failing it.

Anyways free Palistine. Listen to Palistinian voices. Educate yourself. Donate if you are able. And spread the word please I am begging you!

Here is 1 starting point

https://www.pcrf.net/information-you-should-know/how-to-help-palestine.html

How To Help Palestine Palestine has been embroiled in a long-standing conflict with Israel for decades, resulting in a severe humanitarian crisis. The ongoing conflict has led to the displacement of millions of Palestinians, and the situation remains dire for those who are still living in the Palestinian territories of the Gaza Strip and the West Bank. If you're wondering how to help Palestine, there are several impactful actions you can take: Educate Yourself - The first step toward taking meaningful action to help Palestine is to educate yourself about the conflict and its root causes. Research and read about the history of the conflict, the current political situation, and the various cases of human rights abuse that have taken place. This will give you a better understanding of the issues at hand and help you identify the most effective ways to help. Advocate for Change - After you’ve educated yourself on the issue, you can help Palestine by advocating for political change. This can include writing to your elected representatives, signing petitions, and supporting political campaigns that promote peace and justice in the region. By using your voice to raise awareness about the issues facing Palestinians, you can help to bring about positive change. Stay Informed and Engaged - It's also essential to stay informed and engaged regarding the situation in Palestine. Follow reputable news outlets that cover the conflict, and stay up to date on the latest developments. By staying informed, you can continue to advocate for change and take meaningful action to help those who are affected by the conflict. Support Palestinian Businesses - Another important way to help Palestine is by supporting Palestinian businesses. By purchasing goods and services from Palestinian-owned businesses, you can help to support the local economy and promote economic growth in the region. You can find Palestinian-owned businesses online, or by visiting local markets and shops in your area that specialize in Middle Eastern products. Donate to Reputable Organizations - One of the quickest and most impactful ways to help Palestine is by donating to reputable organizations that provide humanitarian aid to Palestinians. Organizations like the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund (PCRF) provide vital assistance to those affected by the conflict, including food, shelter, and medical care. Your donation can go a long way in making a difference in the lives of those who are suffering. PCRF continues to provide humanitarian aid and medical relief to children and their families—some of whom are refugees fleeing their home countries—through our pediatric cancer departments, humanitarian aid programs and projects, pediatric mental health initiatives, hospital infrastructure projects, orphan and refugee sponsorships, medical sponsorships, treatment abroad program, and medical missions. These efforts help to ensure that children in need get the vital assistance they require. PCRF has a committee of volunteer doctors and specialists on our Medical Advisory Board who are dedicated to building up services through training, programs, and guiding PCRF to improve the quality of pediatric care in Palestine, Lebanon, and other areas in the Middle East. PCRF is not a political or religious organization. Our mission is to provide medical and humanitarian relief collectively and individually to Arab children throughout the Middle East, regardless of their nationality, politics, or religion. We rely on charitable giving to provide medical treatment, surgeries, safety, shelter, and support to children and their families in Palestine and the Levant. Find out how you can get involved and help make a difference in children’s lives today!

#Palistine #free Palistine #political

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onlinewealthcreater · 6 months

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Keys for overcoming your stormy season

It is in the middle of the storm that we discover our inner strength

In the midst of a storm, we are often overwhelmed by the weight of our emotions. It is not necessarily the physical waves of the storm that overpower us, but rather the intensity of our emotions. The chaos, anger, helplessness, and bitterness we experience can consume us, leading us to believe that we are trapped and destined to drown in misfortune, condemned to a life of endless struggle.

Allowing these emotions to control our logical reasoning is dangerous, as it leads us to accept the lies that we are destined for a difficult existence filled with constant battles. However, the first step in surviving the storm is to recognize that our emotions do not represent the truth, but rather our subjective experience of the storm. While it is important to acknowledge and validate our feelings during these turbulent times, we must not accept them as absolute truths.

The reality is that everything in life is temporary, including the storm you are currently facing. Eventually, the storm will pass, and the sun will shine again. Through this challenging experience, you will emerge stronger than before. Take a moment to allow your emotions to wash over you, accepting and acknowledging them as part of your journey through this difficult situation. Then, with newfound strength, move forward.

Steps for Moving Forward:

Reflect on Past Experiences: Take a moment to look back on the challenging obstacles you have overcome throughout your life's journey. This brief reflection will serve as a reminder of your resilience and ability to conquer previous battles. It will reinforce the notion that you can weather the current storm, as it is merely a temporary season. Moreover, this reflection will highlight the potential for new opportunities to emerge from your difficulties. By staying focused during this rough patch, you will be better equipped to navigate through it.

Evaluate Your Current Situation: Every storm you encounter presents an opportunity to acquire valuable lessons and skills. Keep in mind that each challenge you face is preparing you for the next exciting chapter in your life's journey. Make it your mission to uncover the lessons that can be learned from your current situation. By doing so, you will be actively equipping yourself for a brighter future.

Remind yourself to stay in the present.

One of the most challenging tasks during a storm is to prevent your thoughts from spiralling out of control. In times of crisis, it is all too easy to dwell on past mistakes or become overwhelmed with fear about the future. Take control of your thoughts and focus on what you can do today to improve your situation

Focus on the beauty in your life.

Even when we find ourselves trapped in the midst of a storm, there is still beauty to be found. Make a deliberate choice to focus on the things that bring beauty into your life. Also, take a moment to appreciate one or two things that you are grateful for.

Take care of yourself.

In difficult times, it is common for us to neglect our own well-being. However, it is absolutely crucial and essential to be gentle with yourself when facing rough seas. Take care of your physical and mental health by prioritizing healthy eating, exercise, and engaging in hobbies that bring you joy. Avoid negative self-talk, as it will only hinder your ability to navigate through this challenging season. By practicing self-care, you will find that the testing times become more bearable, allowing you to maintain your sanity and a positive mind-set

Lastly, do not forget to trust in God with your situation. At the end of the day, He will transform your pain into purpose. Keep moving forward, as better days are on the horizon.

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whatinthe25 · 2 years

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Did any of ya'll sign up for this Adulthood stuff?

Just like the rest of you, I didn’t sign up for any of this “life” stuff and quite frankly, I want a refund.

Who the hell am I?

Who the hell am I? Honestly, I can’t even answer that question. My name is Sarah, a 25 year old Latina with raging ADHD that is just trying to figure out this life thing one step at a time. One thing that didn’t hit me until 6 months into my 25th year is that like holy hell, I’m the ADULT now. This baby face of mine may stop me from getting into bars, but it isn’t stopping the natural progression of life and being like the Adult in so many situations. And I don’t mean the hypothetical “adult” like being the bigger person or whatever, I just genuinely mean like I’m no longer the youngest person in the room and realizing that has sent me into my mid-mid life crisis. Oh yeah, one cool thing about me though is my dachshund, Ollie. He’s cool as shit. The best puppy around.

What the fuck is an adult, anyway?

Growing up we were told they were the ones to trust in an emergency, and I guess I’m pretty trustworthy when shit falls through the cracks but like, that can’t be it? But like, I’m realizing that that IS it. Adults are just old people that have lived longer than you and like that’s it. They can be dumber than you, smarter than you, richer than you, poorer than you, stronger, weaker, slower, faster, you name it and it’s possible because the world Adult means literally “someone over 25" and like wow that’s it.

Why should you care?

Good question, I don’t even know why I should care about being an adult, or literally about anything? I don’t understand how humans are all just running around this world aimlessly, bending to societal whims or fighting against them, with no clear picture of the future. Adults are really just winging it and well, this shit is STRESSING me out. I didn’t sign up for this whole life thing, let alone the difficulty of figuring out what I want my life to be?? I can barely decide on breakfast in the morning (lol, I say morning like my first meal of the day isn’t usually at 1pm) and now I’m supposed to determine what I want my whole LIFE to look like? That’s like, SO much pressure.

Why am I even writing about this?

To be honest, I have no idea and that’s a clear example of what I mean. I have no idea what I want life to be like at all but there are a few things I like, and writing is one of them. I might not have the best grammar (and tbh who really cares) but I like to get my thoughts down on paper when I’m not spiraling out of control. So I figured a blog would be a good way to do that, only I feel too old for Tumblr so I thought I’d start a good ol blog, middle aged woman style.

The point.

Well my point here is, being an adult is meaningless and life is meaningless unless you give it meaning. But figuring out HOW to give your life meaning is hard and shouldn’t be according to all the mental health guru’s out there. Life is just life and we should enjoy the ride, but how the heck am I supposed to enjoy the ride if I don’t know the destination? Like if someone just swoops me up in a vehicle without telling me where we’re going or how long we’re going to be there, then HOW would I POSSIBLY enjoy that ride? The suspense would literally send me into cardiac arrest. (If you’re wondering, yes I hate surprises). But yeah all of this is just long form text to say - the point is that there is NO particular point, and so we need to create our own point, and that point can be ever changing, but there still is no particular point to doing anything, especially being an adult and living life which brings me to MY Point…. I have no point. HELP. If you want to be a part of me trying to figure out that Point, well have fun reading along! And If you have advice - that is very much appreciated.

Much love, thanks for reading,

#adult adhd #adhd problems #adulthood #growing up #adulting #lifelessons #life lessons #neurodivergent

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fishmongeringstudies · 2 years

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sad pelvis story (it’ll get better after you give up!)

the remarkable thing about pelvic bone separation is that according to the internet and every medical health professional I have spoken to so far it only really happens to pregnant people, so if you look up care and recovery options the only thing they’ll say is: it’ll get better after you give birth! Well Then, I say, shaking webMD lookalike number seventeen by the collar of their stupid starched shirt, shaking them so hard their neck snaps off and they die right there in my goddamn arms, what about the rest of us? What if there isn’t a baby splitting your pelvis in half like a chainsaw? What then?

it’s hard to talk about my pelvis without talking about the evil secondary school dance club and the eight-year-long mental health crisis and the remarkable PAP-endorsed notion of pushing through and overcoming and fucking annihilating adversity. They’re all tied up in each other, like headphone cords in a backpack, or five gymnasts in a game of Twister, or a DND fantasy-themed orgy. It’s not, as I was cautioned against yesterday, that I went and based all my personal worth and value as a person on dance. In fact, one might argue that that would be an easier string to untangle. You’d just have to cut it in half and yank the two ends apart and then boom— no more Liya; an endless world of possibility.

the problem is I picked happiness. So I’d still be a person if you took the dance away from me, you see, I’d just be miserable.

circles in the water. Shark circles. Finger circles, finger rings, rings of people trapping me in the middle of the circus, muttering to themselves about fire.

yesterday I went to dance class (my most recent mistake) and we flung objects around like sweaters and broomsticks and yoga blocks and then it ended and my pelvis went YAHOOBA and while I was lying on the floor contemplating the inherent fragility of man my professor came over and said you have to stop dancing for at least a week and I cried and my friend wandered back in and was like are you okay and I cried a little more and in the evening I called my girlfriend and cried again, cried into my cereal, cried into my nice Fruit Of The Loom (1871) shirt, cried in the bathroom with the cracked-open window. I cried to every single person who asked me if I was okay and then I did it all over again. What else is there to say? Take this lump in my throat and cook it. Throw it in the fire.

one time last semester a friend and I were hanging out in the weed dorm (my Humble Abode in sophomore year) and after we finished trading life updates she was like (a little incredulously, with feeling) damn bro, you are Doing Well. I tried to explain that the fact of my wellness was less a given and more of a series of lucky coincidences that had subsequently gotten tired and sat down for long enough for me to achieve personhood for the first time in my life and I don’t think she really believed me. I don’t think anyone really believed me when I said I was a clown in a fursuit at a furry convention doing cowboy moves and that if someone took off my cowboy hat I would immediately dissolve into a pile of fur, that I was grotesquely aware of how easily all of the good things could slip out of my grasp and that was why I was on anxiety medication, but maybe now they will. Which is a terrible thing. When one dons a clown suit your greatest nightmare is falling. Because falling means the end of the dream. And the end of the dream means no one will want to look at you anymore.

rest is good for you (even for a clown!). Given the fact that we live in a society, which involves, you know, capitalism, complete dissolving of work life balance, et cetera, rest almost has a patina of subversion to it, a sense of you’ve done something that you weren’t supposed to, a quiet roar of fury. Unfortunately, this means nothing to the Singaporean work ethic. In fact the Singapore education system is so uniquely constructed that at every juncture in the road anyone who isn’t thriving at full capacity gets quietly yoinked and is never spoken about ever again.

which, like, injury and mental health aren’t remotely the same thing. But they sure can affect each other and make out vigorously and fuck each other in the ass. My broken pelvis has fucked me in the ass. Like an earthworm hanging out. With itself. At six a.m. in the morning.

a list of absurd things:

one— cows have an ambiguous number of udders. They definitely have multiple nipples and my friend and I thought about it and generally agreed that each nipple probably leads to a separate store of milk but is there one udder or are there four? Six? Nineteen? People have boobs. But cows aren’t people. We spent five minutes looking at photos of cow boobs and concluded, quite gravely, that there are some things in the world we will simply never understand.

two— among the activities not recommended for people whose pelvic bones have separated are the remarkably high-exertion activities “sitting” and “standing”. I was so stunned by this discovery in my English class surrounded by people who were also not answering the poor discussion leaders’ questions that I almost fell out of my chair. Which would have been better for me than sitting in it, apparently. Which would have been ridiculous. I can’t slide around my college campus like a fucking worm. I know I said I was a fucking worm earlier and I was going to fuck another worm but this is different. This is going up to a dung beetle and asking it to sing, to dance, to do calculus. This would kill a worm. If I were a worm, I’d be dead.

three— I emailed my school’s international student center telling them how fucked up everything was and they were like you should consider taking medical leave. All right, Karen, so tell me: if I leave, where the fuck am I supposed to go? There is no place on this continent that even vaguely resembles home and I can’t just buy a thousand dollar ticket back to Singapore out of the fucking blue because I’m not rich, I’m not well-adjusted and well-supported and happily connected to my large family of rich doctors and lawyers, I’m a college student and a dancer and an ex-depressed person who needs to not go back into that dark, airless hole, I’m scared to death of what the next five weeks will look like, I’m fucking

miserable. Didn’t go to dance this morning and I was miserable. Skipped taiko this evening and I was miserable. Sat in the new dining hall and chewed on cherry tomatoes and I was miserable, miserable, miserable. Crying’s off the agenda now because I’m tired but it fucking sucks, you know? Being injured is embarrassing (my most recent problematic thought). Not being able to do the things that spark joy in my life is embarrassing. Like I finally found a way to make myself not want to eject my body into outer space and now my pelvic bones have fucking separated. Google keeps screaming at me about pregnancy and my dance friends keep on going to their dance classes and I just sit here with my sad angry bones and my angry lonely heart, hurting and hurting and hurting, and I write. I write about how pelvic bone separation occurs in between 1 in 300 and 1 in 300,000 vaginal deliveries. I write about how I am not part of this statistic. I write about what it’s like to love yourself in a way that finally makes sense to you, and then have that wrenched away.

I write my sad pelvis story, because I can’t go over there and tell you about it. I write an email to my professor. I write a hundred apologies.

I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time.

10.27.22

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