I miss jenna marbles so much 😭

Hello friend are your requests open?? I saw your Cove in school hcs and would like to add: going to university w Cove 👀 if this is too similar to the school hcs feel free to ignore lol I am just having a Normal Amount of thoughts about this boy :')

(Imagine renting an apartment with him and basically living like a married couple tho........ him driving you to class when it rains so you don't have to walk........... lunch dates in the school cafeteria while you both complain about the shitty dining hall food..................)

Okay I'll stop here this is your writing blog lmao XD thank you in advance if you do take this request tho I am looking forward to hearing your thoughts!!

— cove university hcs

You Are So Real. as a uni student i feel sick to my stomach like WHY NOT ME? no cove for me? none for me????? sick sick sick sick

be real. cove asks "are you ready to go home?" and he smiles and it's especially the first few times that he blushes and grins at the thought of Having a Home With You.

^ very much jumped at the chance to live with you when you brought up the idea

cove had his schedule on his lock screen and yours on his home screen for a while. once the both of you figured out a routine and when you could find each other he switched it back to his usual photos (u r in them of course. how else is he going to motivate himself when he's studying)

he really really wishes he could have every single class with you which y'know,, unless you have the same major and same electives isn't going to happen. he gets much happier when you finally meet up after class

still, you guys definitely sat together and planned out your classes. both to try planning breaks together and also for general emotional support.

^ don't get me started on the morning of registration. the refreshing and tension for first year registration because you don't have a backup schedule? crazy.(also my uni website was Horrendously slow)

exam season is hell, obviously. cove checks on you periodically and asks how things are going. if you're prone to overworking his check-ins are how he gets you to take a break.

^ if you refuse he'll try to find a middle ground, but if he knows you need to rest cove Will get you to rest. he's frowning when he speaks. says a loving but firm "you won't be able to study well if you burn yourself out. can you take a break with me?"

exploring the campus with cove!! seeing the different buildings, finding different libraries, pretending you're different majors. you get it

^ the both of you walk around before the first day to figure out where your classes are. it's kind of tiring but you're prepared now so !

figures out what places you both eat at and will memorize your regular order so he can bring it to you

he talks to you whenever he feels homesick because who would understand better than you? you're his biggest source of comfort

the both of you watching those university student meal videos/tiktoks because dear god you can only handle campus food/restaurants for so long.

^ you also text your parents for their recipes and tips whenever you get particularly homesick

HIM DRIVING! gives you a Look when you say you can walk and it's raining or super cold. why would you even say that to him. if you can't drive, either he'll drive you or you walk together. there's no other options.

'sneaking' each other into the particularly big classes—especially the first year intro ones. i say 'sneaking' because it Isn't Difficult At All.

^ you end up just working on your own things, but the extra time together is always nice !!

thinking about cove forgetting his pencil (case) the day of an exam and asking you for one sheepishly. (said by girl who's done this twice.)

he'd love to tell you about what he learns from his major—i'd go ahead and assume it's in the realm of marine sciences. he'd tell you about something cool he learned or maybe already knew from his own research and get very excited !!

^ hopes you'll do the same with him. smth smth sharing is a love language smth smth

reading week and breaks. i just know this guy sighs as he looks at his study guides before saying "just a few more days," to himself. he needs you to remind him too because it's more comforting when he remembers he'll have time off with You

taking pictures together for yourselves and to update your families !!! teasingly taking photos of cove doing mundane things just because it's now at University. first lunch, first class, etc etc

cove totally supports you if you want to join a club or go to any events. he might not go to many, especially if they're bound to be crowded and loud, but he'll ask how it went and want to catch up

we all know there's a difference between high school morning classes and uni morning classes. but cove is a morning person and i can't imagine how many times i'd complain about a 10 am class while he woke up at 6 that morning

🏷 | @lordbugs @xfangirl-trashx @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @bakugosgrenade @vhenis @dreamtydraw

living together means it's that much easier for cuddle sessions after a long day (or any day.) cove is just as happy to come find you as he is to hold open his arms for you. whether you want to rant or have a distraction, he'll be there

**add on | COVE GETTING HIS ACCEPTANCE LETTER! you both opened it at the same time and the relief and excitement that washed over him was overwhelming.

SURVIVAL TIPS | MILO & WILLOW

PLACE: A bookstore TIMING: Way, way back when Milo first became a vampire SUMMARY: Milo and Willow accidentally cross paths, and realise they both have the power to distract each other from their problems WRITING PARTNER: @willcwthewisp​ CONTENT WARNINGS: None

Milo couldn’t remember the last time he had unironically set foot in a bookstore. After graduating uni, it all felt a little pointless. He had books, though they were at his parents’ house, far beyond his reach now. And reading felt too trivial considering the latest developments in his life. Why would he ever need books? What could they possibly have to offer him? But this evening, against his better judgement, he had been struck by the overwhelming urge to go to a bookshop. To steal back a semblance of the normalcy belonging to his previous life. With Harsh’s constant, and unexpected support, he was feeling more in control than ever before. Though his grip on his cravings remained tenuous at best, he figured he was capable of a short visit. After impatiently waiting for the sun to set, he had hurried into town, slipping quietly through the familiar door. The bell above him rang out, announcing his arrival, and the sound caused a wave of nostalgia to wash over him. Maybe he missed this more than he thought. Once upon a time, before he had allowed himself to spiral, he would come here. His mom would find new books for him to study. His dad would nudge him away from the children’s section, towards the classics that were technically beyond his reading level. If it’s easy, then what are you learning, Milo? You need to be challenged. He could still hear his tone, the exact way he would make not being able to choose his own stories sound like a privilege rather than a frustration.  

Drifting through the various sections, taking in the new sounds, and scents he had never been able to appreciate before, it wasn’t long until he found himself standing where his parents used to encourage him to stand. They would search through the shelves, talking amongst themselves to determine which novels were best suited for their son. Even now that he had a choice, he was drawn to the books they had selected for him. Maybe it was a warped sense of loyalty, maybe he missed the simplicity of having every decision made for him. Gently running his fingers along the spine of Great Expectations, he wondered whether Charles Dickens had lived in a world of vampires, and ghosts. Certainly Edgar Allan Poe had to have known about the existence of the Supernatural. It made him want to revisit the tales, search for any hint that might indicate the world had always been this confusing. Finally pulling Great Expectations from the shelf, he turned to walk towards the seating area, completely unaware of the person walking in the opposite direction. He stumbled backwards the moment he saw them, very nearly walking into them. A sheepish grin on his face, he did what he could to hold his breath. Harsh had already warned him doing so would draw attention, but he didn’t see any other option when people got so close. “Shit- I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.” 

Willow was to the point of desperation when it came to finding the book she was looking for. For some unfathomable reason it wasn’t available anywhere that she could find online. Maybe it was simply so popular that most sellers had run out of it, but either way she’d ended up braving the trek to the bookstore after hearing they had a copy in stock. Books were one of the few ways she’d managed to stay sane in her self-appointed isolation, filling her head with stories of the outside world that she couldn’t bring herself to experience anymore. But she should have known going out into public once again was a terrible idea, and that became clear the moment she nearly collided with another being. Her eyes widened in alarm at the severity of the close call, already imagining how she could have sent the young man standing in front of her flying through multiple shelves of books.  

“Oh god-” Willow gasped as if she’d been startled at a haunted house, hand clutched to her chest as she took a few, healthy steps backwards to put some space between her and the stranger. “No, no- I didn't see you there either, I’m sorry.” Her nerves had been set on edge by the near run in, and she was doing her best to steady her breaths, trying not to think about the ten million ways this interaction could go poorly if the stranger got too close. “I was just- I wasn’t watching that carefully where I was going, I guess.” A lapse on judgement on her part. She should know better than to walk blindly when she was a walking disaster waiting to happen. 

Milo was already tense, doing his very best to hide it. But it made him feel a little better to hear the stranger’s heart pounding in her chest. Clearly he wasn’t the only person who had been caught so off guard, and clearly he wasn’t the only person so panicked by the close proximity. The relief didn’t last for very long though. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, the sound of her pulse served as an unwelcome reminder of how dry his throat felt, the new reality he was desperately trying to ignore. Before he could take a further step back, the woman had done so for him, and he watched her curiously, wondering whether she might also a reason of her own to keep her distance. “Are you okay?” He asked, genuinely concerned for her. “No- I wasn’t looking either, it was my fault as much as it was yours!” He insisted. If he had been more careful, as careful as he should be given his current situation, this wouldn’t have happened. But he was already tired of being careful. Was one evening too much to ask for? One evening of reading books in a bookstore like a regular human being? “I, uh-” He held up his copy of Great Expectations, still holding his breath between sentences as though such a desperate gesture might be able to fix all of his problems. “I was distracted too…”

“Oh- oh, I’m fine!” Willow tried to assure, not wanting the young man to think he’d startled her too badly— even if he had done just that. “Are you alright?” she asked out of politeness. He didn’t seem very shaken, but it was only in her nature to ask in return. Forcing a chuckle, she clutched the book she’d fetched to her chest, as if it could protect her. “I think we’re gonna have to either agree to disagree, or just let me take the blame.” She wasn’t particularly in the practice of letting the guilt fall on someone else when it came to situations that involved herself. “Oh, are you reading Great Expectations?” she asked as she took in the title and cover of the book. It wasn’t one of her favorites- mostly because she’d been forced to read it in highschool, but it was still a classic and staple. In her opinion, it had ghosts that weren’t really ghosts, and that was something she’d been drawn to. 

Smiling at the woman’s insistence that she really was okay, Milo allowed himself to relax as much as he dared to. It wasn’t easy, trying to find a balance. Trying to stay aware of his surroundings, while also staying aware of himself. He could only hope one day it would become a part of his routine, something he did without even needing to focus. “I am.” He answered quietly. He wasn’t sure how true that was, but he sincerely appreciated the question. “I mean, if you want to take the blame I have a track record of avoiding responsibility.” He teased, laughing quietly at the fact that he was being entirely honest now. “I’m not going to try and stop you.” Glancing down at the book in his hands, he stared at the cover for a moment too long. There were so many childhood memories connected to it that it was difficult to look away from. “I guess so.” He grinned, offering her a shrug. “My parents made me read it as a kid… I’m kind of missing the simplicity of that, you know? My biggest worry being how quickly I could get to the end of a book.” Finally tearing his gaze away and looking back up at the stranger, he realised he had yet to introduce himself. “I’m Milo, by the way… So, are you going to tell me what you’re reading? Hopefully something far less cliché.”

Part of Willow was glad that the young man hadn’t insisted on taking the blame as many people were often wont to do. Generally that just resulted in a tiring back and forth until they found some sort of compromise, or forgot what they were talking about altogether. “Perfect,” she settled the burden of blame with a chuckle, her smile still warm. “Glad we agreed on that as easily as we did.” He seemed nice despite her nearly running headlong into him. Her head tilted curiously to the side, listening closely while he spoke of his parents and books. “Oh- well that’s...sweet in a way. And it makes sense.” She could certainly relate to wishing for a simpler time, often thinking of the days she’d been able to walk free without fear of breaking someone in half via telekinesis. “Books are a good way to forget the world for a bit.” They were her favorite method of escaping behind painting. “Oh- I’m Willow,” she replied quickly, a little embarrassed that she’d forgotten to introduce herself in the first place. “I don’t think Great Expectations is necessarily cliché,” she offered politely with another little laugh before continuing on. “But mine’s called ‘Leave the World’.”

Amused by Willow apparently being grateful he was readily allowing her to take the blame, Milo realised he was genuinely beginning to enjoy her company. His smile only growing as she talked about the ease of the decision, it was refreshing not being seen as somebody argumentative, or petulant, even if the context could barely be considered serious. “It was a pleasure discussing business with you.” He replied, feigning sincerity as he caught her eye. Raising his eyebrows as she called his actions sweet, he wasn’t sure he would use that word but perhaps from an outsider’s perspective his explanation could be seen as sentimental. “Yeah, you could probably call it that.” He admitted, absentmindedly tapping his fingertips against the cover of the book still in his hands. “I don’t know… I hadn’t really thought about it. I don’t even know why I came here really, I think I might be looking for something that’s just... impossible to find, you know?” His old life, his humanity... Realising the stranger was right, his smile softened into an open, and unguarded expression. Books were a good way to escape, however briefly. And though there were no hidden doorways here allowing him to step back into the past, maybe a brief escape would enough for now. If achieving one was even possible. Maybe it needed to be enough. “Leave the World?” He couldn't say he had ever heard of it. “I don’t suppose there are any tips in there? I could use a vacation from this place.”

The younger man’s words brought a laugh to Willow’s lips, and she was grateful for the bell-like sound as she reminded herself how few and far between interactions like this had been. Sure- she’d talked to people in her self-imposed isolation, had even seen a few humans here and there, but there was nothing that could replace the actual company of another living and breathing person. “I hope I don’t have a bill coming in the mail for this business talk,” she teased back. Her shoulders relaxing another inch while she let herself slip a little further into comfort. 

The expression on her face took on a more sincere air as her head tilted curiously to the side, a gentle nod of understanding shaking it in the end. “I think...a lot of people feel that way, if we’re being honest.” And she didn’t see any reason not to be. Even ghosts were looking for something that seemed impossible to find. After all, that was why they’d stuck around in the first place. “But I also haven’t met anyone that hasn’t eventually found what they’re looking for. Sometimes you just need help, you know?” That was the job of the medium or exorcist in her mind— to extend that helping hand when someone needed it. “And sometimes the answer isn’t what we expect, but I think you’ll get there eventually.” Another chuckle shook her gently before she gave her answer. “No tips in there unless you’re looking for ways to survive and deal with the apocalypse. But if you’re looking for some ‘vacation’ books I can take you to some of my favorites?”

Milo laughed too, his eyes shining. “I wasn’t going to but now that I think about it my rent is probably due.” He teased, unable to help himself. He could hardly consider their conversation business talk, but he was enjoying it more than he would ever have expected to. Although he liked his time alone, socialising had always come naturally to him. He had no issue with talking to people, getting to know them when their paths somehow managed to cross with his own. He missed this, he missed making new friends. His smile fading somewhat as Willow became serious again, he appreciated her honesty. It made him sad to know what she was saying was probably true, but it also helped him to feel less alone. Sometimes he just needed to be reminded of that fact. “Yeah, I guess you’re right…” He murmured, knowing the sense of relief would be temporary. How long until he convinced himself otherwise? Until his own mind erased Willow’s wisdom? “It’s easy to forget sometimes, you know? Especially when your problems are so… specific.” He admitted, offering her a hesitant shrug.  

A smile tugging at his lips again, the mention of hope was comforting, regardless of the fact that everything felt pretty hopeless right about now. He was more stable than he had been, though still not used to his new life, still close enough to his old one to actively grieve for it. “You really think so?” He asked, knowing his longing would be obvious in his voice. He made no effort to hide it, too distracted by the mention of finding answers, by the sound of Willow’s heartbeat, by the book in his hands still reminding him of his childhood. “I really hope so…” Maybe she was right. Harsh was helping him now, and things were getting better. The progress was slow, but it still counted as progress. “Thank you.” His smile became more genuine as he felt a strange rush of affection for the woman he barely knew. Apparently she believed in him, apparently she was convinced one day he might actually be okay again. “Hm, I think tips on how to survive might be more useful to me than vacation books.” He was only half teasing. “But if you’d be up for the company, I’d love to see some of your favourites.” 

“Well- you’ll just have to send over the prices so I can get a look at them. My sister’s actually better with stuff like that anyway, so I’ll probably pass them on to her,” Willow chuckled. It was true though. Meg had needed to negotiate quite a few contracts along with her manager when it came to her spot as a blossoming celebrity. She’d missed this as well. Even though she’d always been a little more on the quieter side, Willow had always loved seeing a new smile wherever she could find them. Her warm expression shifted into concern another time as Milo continued to speak of his problems. She might not have the abilities to go along with being a proper medium, but she’d still been raised as one, and along with that came a compassion geared towards helping. “Well if you ever need reminding just message me, alright? I’m easy enough to find on the town forums. My full name’s Willow Finch if you want to search me, though.” Maybe she was coming on too strong when it came to being helpful, but it’d always been hard for her to draw that line. If she wanted to help, why shouldn't she make sure the other person knew it without a doubt?  

“Of course I think so,” Willow repeated with another soft smile, already happy to see the smallest flash of hope enter into Milo’s eyes. “I haven’t met a person yet that couldn’t find what they were looking for. Even if it took time. And even if it wasn’t what they were expecting.” The poor guy. She could practically feel the desperate wanting in his voice, could recognize it because she herself was on a seemingly hopeless quest for answers when it came to her own problems with telekinesis. There had to be an end...right? But a smaller voice in her mind reminded Willow that endings weren’t always happy. Nevertheless she brushed it aside, and turned to start on her way towards her favorite section of the store. “Come on- I think we can find some books that fall into both categories,” she finished with a grin over her shoulder. 

Milo continued to smile in response to the joke, leaning into the way this woman seemed able to distract him from his problems, if only for a brief moment in time. He could see she was being genuine, that she actually wanted to help, and he wasn’t used to that. Not anymore.  “I hope she doesn’t take a cut of the check?” He teased, his smile growing as she insisted she was always going to be there if he needed a reminder that all hope wasn’t lost. It was an odd thing for a stranger to offer, but given his life as of late, he didn’t feel as though his gauge on what was normal even functioned anymore. It had been permanently shattered when he woke up as an official member of the undead. Slipping his phone from his pocket, he held it out to her, encouraging her to plug her name and number into his list of contacts. “I might take you up on that, you know…” Why not? What did he have to lose by making another hesitant friend? “Willow Finch… your name has superhero vibes, has anybody ever told you that?” His eyes were shining as he was reminded of who he used to be, the kid who spent his free time split between the comic book store, and the many questionable establishments White Crest had to offer him. He was still very much that person, but nothing felt quite so simple anymore. He only wanted things to be simple.  

His smile fading when Willow insisted he would eventually find what he was looking for, some sense of peace, some way of being content with what he had become, maybe even some level of control when it came to fighting against the bloodlust continually scratching the back of his throat, he was impatient, but he was also happy just to believe that the answers were out there. He would find them, and maybe, just maybe, he would be okay. Surprised when she started to walk away from him, he faltered before hurrying to fall into step beside her, holding his breath as her movement caused the smell of her blood to permeate the air. He didn’t know what she meant by both categories, surely survival books and vacation books were on two very different ends of a spectrum. But he didn’t care, he wanted to understand, he wanted to follow her. Because, for some reason, she made him feel like there was hope, like he existed as more than some miserable outcome, and that was proving to be incredibly rare. 

i am posting this here because i am tired of burdening my boyfriend with my feelings. this is a little nsfw. and this is my call for help. i dont know who to talk to anymore about this.

i need someone to hear what i feel

or at least, a free space to say what i feel 

im in a low place. i feel so awful about myself and my body and i hate this feeling. i hate that this time last year, i was so happy about the way i looked. i was working this awful job that had me so overworked and overtired and poorly treated that i skipped meals and slept through meals regularly... i lost so much weight from stress in just a year and was the skinniest i had ever been. mentally, i was not in a good place being exploited by my managers... but my self esteem re: my body was at a new level i never knew could exist for me.

last year, i felt powerful and confident about my body, and i expressed that through sexuality. i was fucking my ex that i still liked (i grew out of wanting him back, but he never did, and it was nice to have the upper hand). i was also fucking an old fwb that i stayed friends with, that was also recently single, so we reunited again at the perfect time. i was also seeing this one guy (now my boyfriend) so if ever i got tired of the sex i at least was able to calm down and settle down with someone who genuinely wanted to know me. of course, i ended up catching feelings for this guy, and cut off the other two to pursue something more serious (we are now dating and are moving in together next month!) anyways, it was so nice to be wanted. to feel... i guess sexy? sex is empowering. and it shouldn’t be taboo to say that as a woman, or anyone really. i dont want to give off the message that a woman’s validation is fueled by men’s desire - but hey, don’t you feel flattered when someone thinks you’re attractive? desire and lust aren’t everything... but they matter. and they have an impact on how you feel about yourself, whether or not you believe me when i say that is up to you. 

 and i hate that i would gladly put myself through the stress that i did just to feel happy about my body. before the summer ended, i finally had enough and i quit my shitty job. i was jobless for a month, but was able to enjoy the rest of the summer with my new ‘skinny’ body - last year i took my first bikini picture ... a 2 piece! i have never done that. i still think about how happy i was that summer to look and feel good about myself. 

i have struggled with self esteem issues since highschool. i always felt like i was too big. i used to follow all these blogs of pretty people and try to copy their poses to feel pretty and i used to spend hours after school trying on short dresses and clothes to stare at my body in the mirror. i used to starve myself to the point of literally wanting to faint on the daily, until finally i admitted it to one of my teachers. she respectfully asked if i wanted to speak with the school guidance counsellor, and i declined. but she encouraged me to speak up to at least a friend, so i did, and it helped, and for a long time, i was okay. after i graduated that teacher still checked up on me for a few years every now and again.

4th year university was when i realized how much i had let myself go. i was the heaviest i had ever been, it was my graduating year, i was looking for a job and was always worried about my grades. every time i was stressed or every time i needed to study i bought pad thai and bubble tea. a ritual. i didnt realize how much that had caught up to me until i saw old pictures of myself. at this point, i started my (shitty) job, straight out of graduation.

i actively avoided scales, i didn’t like looking at the number because it just made me upset. and i already felt upset looking in the mirror, i didn’t need something else to make me upset. but i did. and i was 20 pounds heavier than i was in highschool - the heaviest i had ever been.

i cried.

i didnt do much about it. i was too busy. my first job out of uni was a brand new daycare and i was head teacher of a toddler class - also i was the only staff on floor since there were not as many kids. there was nobody to train me, at all. i had to teach myself everything. i had no time. 

a little while before starting the job, i met this guy. he was so hot, but such a dick - we had a “thing” but it was so toxic. he started off interested in me, but i turned him down. his attitude changed and he started being a douche, but we became friends because we were seeing each other so often. i didn’t have a car yet. he was driving me everywhere. he lived 5 minutes away. he was the type of friend that would text me “im outside, lets go out”. we hung out as friends at first, we would have “study dates”, until we started hooking up. we acted like a thing but he denied we were ever one - but got mad at me whenever i tried to look elsewhere. but i guess in that time, it was nice to be wanted, especially by someone so attractive. 

but again, a year in that shithole job went by fast. i would stay late after work. i would come in on weekends. i was expected to not only help new kids transition, but train new partners. and given that my supers refused to support me, i watched a lot of people quit due to pressure. i had to keep retraining. and kids kept coming. that never stopped. i can honestly say my class wasn’t settled until december, and i started in september. everyday it was ‘its fine, it will get better’. 

a year in that shithole, with 0 support, and i lost all the weight i gained - and more. i was the skinniest i had ever been. even in highschool. i looked at old pictures of myself from when i started the job at my heaviest. i couldnt believe that was me. and i was so happy looking at myself in the mirror. for once! 

after i quit that job, i started another job that i hoped would be a happy ending.

and it wasn’t. it stressed me out just as much. i also moved out by this point, a month after i started this job. my hours are whack. 7-9, 11:30-6. i woke up early and got home late. i never had free time. my last shift at my old job was 7-3:30 and i had the whole day to myself. im someone that needs social interaction and alone time, and by the time i got home i was so tired, i would just cook, clean, shower, and go to bed. and that was my life. sometimes i would get so tired that i couldn’t cook, i just went and ate out. i tried to make personal time with my friends after work but by the time i reached their house, it was late, and places were closed. and id have to leave early anyways because i had work early the next day... so fast food was the only way to make this work. on top of this, this was the most difficult class that i had ever had. the kids behaviours’ were so difficult and i couldn’t handle it. i would cry in my car 3x a week. i would cry 4 minutes before my shift starts in the washroom and walk out and pretend i was okay. i would have my boyfriend come over as much as i could just so i could cry in his arms. i couldnt leave this job because i had just moved out and having a consistent rent payment was a huge responsibility for me. as well, if you know anything about ECEs in canada, just know we make shit pay. but this job pays me better than most ECE jobs... by a landslide. AND gives me benefits, which is so hard to find. i am still at this job - i was at my breaking point at the time covid started, so i was rejoicing when we closed for covid. i havent worked since march, but i needed that time off so desperately. 

with that being said, i gained the weight back.

not everything, but i definitely could tell i was packing on some pounds.

cue covid.

i havent worked since march. i fell back into a lazy routine of ordering fast food. lying in bed. resting. just enjoying NOT dealing with my difficult class. 

but i gained it all back. and i think im back at my heaviest weight. i picked up all my summer clothes from last year from my moms... half of them dont fit me. my favourite pair of shorts won’t close. i just sat and cried in a mess of clothes on my floor in front of the mirror. this was last week.

im trying to tell myself, ‘you’re in the middle of a global pandemic, go easy on yourself’... but do you know what it’s like to finally get what you’re chasing, and have it be taken away from you? i finally had a taste of what it was like to look AND feel good about myself. something ive wanted since i was a teenager...and it’s gone. it’s my fault and i accept that, so please don’t tell me i did this to myself. i know i did. but i can still be upset about it. i look in the mirror and i try to suck my stomach in and pretend nothing changed but its not the same. i see old pictures of myself, especially that bikini pic. ironically, i captioned it “i will never have the confidence to take a bikini pic again”... and here we are. i look at the clothes i wore last year and remember how fucking good i felt wearing them. i try putting them back on and seeing my stomach bulging and my arms looking fat and my love handles, something i didn’t see last year. and i just take them off and opt to wear something frumpier that doesnt hug my figure.

i try to tell people about how i feel but i cant take those ‘love yourself and all your flaws’ campaigns seriously. i dont think i can listen to another ‘you have to just keep faking it until you make it and if u just tell urself ur beautiful u will feel beautiful!’

because if you’re me, you know you cant kid yourself. if you’re me you can’t ‘love every flaw’. you fixate on them. and you let them define you. and if youre me, flaws are all you see.

i hate myself for getting back to this point. 

i have a very supportive boyfriend that knows about all this, who is trying to actively get me to go on runs with him. we are trying to go for walks more and be out and about. he reminds me of little things, like if we are getting bubbletea he will suggest i go with less sugar. he is trying, we are trying. and i appreciate him so much.

today i complained in my car about this to my boyfriend, again. for the millionth time. and he still was supportive. but i just feel like i cant keep doing this to him. he said something today, which i think was him trying to give me a reality check to show me that i cant just wish i could starve myself and overwork myself to lose weight and call it a day... but it stung. he said “i don’t want to be with someone that’s not healthy. i have standards too” and i realized then he deserves so much better than to fucking babysit my complaining ass. i am 24. and i shouldnt be putting this on him. he is an adult with problems just as real as mine and i shouldnt be burdening him with this anymore. 

im scared to talk to him about how that comment made me feel, because he’s so right, and he has every right to leave me. i would honestly. the amount that i worry and fixate on all my flaws and complain and have crying breakdowns about this is not fucking normal. and it shouldnt be his problem. i just want him to be with someone that doesnt give him this baggage. he met me in my ‘prime’ days when i just started getting my skinny body last year. when we finally started dating, we were super sexually active. and i mean, having sex like 15 times a week. im not kidding. now we havent had sex in almost an entire month. i dont feel sexy anymore and its impacting my sex drive.. he tries to start it with me and i just can’t because i feel like he is probably repulsed by my body. this is a huge huge huge problem, seeing as sex was a huge part of our relationship (we are very emotionally in tune with one another, but sex was a great addon because we both love it so much). i hate the way i look without clothes on. i cant bring myself to do it because it makes me feel like shit about myself.

but we are moving in together next month. and that is a huge step. and i am worried that i will never change, and he’s going to feel like he’s stuck with me because he’s moving 40 minutes away from his hometown to live with me. i almost want us to break up so he can be with someone with less baggage but i also love him and i want to be better for him and for us. 

someone please help me. 

Summer Storms

Author: @mellarkablegirl

Rating: T (will be M in future)

Summary: An incoming summer storm brings in a host of unexpected faces into Katniss Everdeens life and they are not even a little subtle of the havoc they wreck.

Chapter 1:

“ Cursed! What hocus pocus nonsense have you been reading nowadays Sweetheart ? ” , Haymitch sputtered to a stop when he saw that the grey eyed girls gazed remained riveted to the floor . “ wait you can’t be serious? “That’s the only possible explanation , Mitch ” , she murmured. “ One day he was here and the next he was gone is it like all he others, it’s become a trend in my life , first Papa then Mom and after Prim went to New Zealand last year I thought the trend of people leaving my life would come to an end but then that stupid vermin catcher is it had to up and disappear and now he’s gone Haymitch , just like all the others ” her voice caught at the end and he caught her is it before she collapsed as a sobbing mess onto the hearth . He tried to console her , awkwardly patting her hair and rubbing her back and internally cursed the higher powers .

Would this girl ever catch a break, it seemed like Katniss Everdeen’s life had been one rainshower after another with the occasional thunderstorm dropping by , her Papa , Sage Abernathy had decided the country bumpkin life didn’t suit him anymore and walked away from his family when the girl had been almost 12 . That was first and last time Katniss truly threw a fit , her little bubble had been burst . After that one after another things started going downhill, Evelyn Everdeen the girls mother fell very very ill the winter Katniss turned 14 and died soon after bringing the girls to live with him , their father having washed his hands off the parenting business years ago. He loathed his brother but Haymitch wouldn’t trade the world for his two precious girls . Her life had been looking up , namely because of two bright spots of sunshine a pair of twin blond heads namely , Primrose Everdeen and Peeta Mellark . The pair were notoriously thick friends and confidants even though Peeta was a little older than the two girls he seemed to have adopted the younger Everdeen as a little sister. His feelings for the older Everdeen though were a whole other spectrum . But storm clouds came in quickly and when Peeta up and skipped town for a Uni education in the big city , the girls felt nothing short of abandoned. Last he heard of the boy some freak accident had caused him to lose his foot and an infection had spread quickly after , Haymitch tried and failed to find any news of his funeral thereafter.

What followed was 7 years of normal , dismal routine life in a dreary town that was Twelve Woods. Surpising the girls seemingly had pulled through and were pretty comfortable in the lives they chose to live , Katniss had completely a dosntace course and now ran a ranch and riding school while Prim seemed to have settled into her role as town healer , both of them having wiped out memories of blonde , bakers sons , when just like lightning it was time for another debacle. This one though unlike the others Katniss could have controlled but alas it didnt turn out quite so easy.

Prim pranced in one cold , drafty day ready to split at the seams with happiness. Turns out her kind time boyfriend Vick Hawthorne had finally decided to grow a pair and propose . Though Katniss supported their relationship, what she didn’t support was news that her baby sister would be moving across the world and living a rather isolated life. She argued and taunted and sputtered for days until one fine day Prim couldn’t take it any longer and up and left with little other than a short letter explaining where she was going. Needless to say the sisters inflated egos haven’t let them talk till date. That was 2 years ago and you mught ask what was Haymitch doing all this while. Well he did what any alcoholic , supporting Uncle / Father figure would do . He took a sip of his moonshine and went ahead and consoled the girl and stood by her decision. Honeslty if you think anyone can come between an Everdeen handling a situation, you are very very delusional .

Now he wasn’t a soft soul or anything but Haymitch did think the girl as his daughter and to see her breakdown was difficult for him . “ Shhhh sweetheart , why don’t we look around the ranch for him , I’m sure buttercup is around here somewhere.” Buttercup , was Katnisses only memory of a lot of people . The mangy tabby cat had been a gift to Prim from Peeta of all people and had been the only thing tethering Katniss to reality on the really bad days . And the stupid creature seemed to be having one of those days where he was eluding Katniss. What I’m earth prompted the girl to think that this was all a curse of a which he didn’t know, but the next think she’d be spouting news of Rebirth and the After-life . So when the porch door squeaked and the bell to the front door rang, he thanked whatever power up there had taken pity on him .

He opened the door to greet whoever had braved this weather only to be rendered speechless because standing there were 2 faces one he’d thought he’d see ever again followed by one he’d thought wasn’t interested in ever talking to him because he had taken her elder sisters side. Before him stood Sage and Prim and boy had he started believing in rebirth because , looks wise. The quiet sniffling behind him brought him out of his stupor. He cleared his throat and slammed the front door behind him. He’d be damned if he let any one of them hurt the girl again. “ What are you doing here ?” , he growled “ Haven’t y'all stomped all over her heart enough ? That you’re back for more ?” Prim pushed passed her father and confronted Haymitch , “ We want what’s best for her Mitch, and that’s not in this Podunk town, she needs to understand that she has so much more to offer and that she can be happy , truly happy out there in the big world. She’s got so much potential that she’s wasting staying here and running this ranch . I mean the only reason she stays is the stupid insecurities and you! LET HER GO!! ” at this point her voice had reached a crescendo and the loud slam of the porch door against a banister startled all three out of the argument . With all of the ferocity she could muster, in true Katniss Everdeen fashion she roared, “ Enough ! You …” she said pointing at Prim, “ You don’t get to waltz in here and question my decisions neither do you get to blame Mitch, I made my choice and it neither a sacrifice nor a mistake so you can keep your hoity toity city opinion to yourself and I rather like living in this podunk town with my freedom and sense of identity intact , and as for you ” she said pointing at Haymitch “ I did see why you feel the need to fight my battles for me , I’m doing just fine by myself ” she turned around to storm back inside before she froze and saw her father or the man who was her biological father standing by the porch swing , “ Good day Mr.Abernathy , what brings you to Twelve Woods ?” she asked in aasked in a voice serenely calm it was eerie. Before Sage could say anything she cut him off ,“ If you’ll excuse me I have a lot of things to tend to on the ranch , I’m sure you’ll enjoy your stay at the village lodge , Sae is an excellent host .” With that she pivoted on her heal and stormed off towards the stables with a steely determination set in her eyes .

The two visitors whirled around at Haymitch’s sigh “ Guess she’s made herself very was then , Prim this is till your home and you’re more than welcome to stay , I’m sorry Sage but if Katniss isn’t comfortable around you she’s made herself pretty clear , how long are the two of you staying this time ? ” he asked as he started ascending the stairs to the house . Prim lugged her bags into the foyer and collapsed into the armchair that once used to be her designated spot , Sage stood uncomfortably in the foyer looking around the house that once used to be childhood home but now had so vestiges of his memories. Haymitch glared at the two of them from behind the bar , “ Are the two of y'all going to explain why you are here and what brought on this intervention ? Or is this just a customary visit ?”.Prim was sick to answer but was cut off by Sage , it was the first time the man had spoken since he’d shown face and Haymitch want prepared for the rough gravel of his voice,“ I’m sorry Mitch , this was all my fault, I thought my abandonment and all those following events trapped Kitten in this godforsaken place and I just wanted her to get an out . I met Prim last year , I was on a business trip to New Zealand. I have since apologized and built a relationship with my daughter, we both left home and the only family we knew you because we wanted out , I guess I gave that gene to her ,Evelyn had always been the more grounded one out of the two of us and Kitten definitely takes after her . But I just wanted her to explore and find happiness and I know she’s not happy here. Content. Surviving . Yes but not happy .” Haymitch had been observing Sage the whole while and watched as his brothers shoulders dropped,“ First things first she is no longer your kitten, secondly don’t you think you should have seen her life for a day or heck an hour before you jumped to these conclusions and yes you’re right you leaving did cause a domino effect in her life but she has pulled through and the ranch and her animals are the only place she feels comfortable to be herself and I don’t push her much either ” “ You weren’t here Sage when Eve died, you weren’t here when she lost her best friend, you weren’t here when her little sister up and walked away to * live her life* ,” he said directly a flare at Prim ,“ So no I don’t think your opinion matters , bit I have seen Sweetheart struggle and fight her demons and if you think pulling her out of this corner of the world will do her good , try all you want . But Mark my words , you hurt my girl and I will kill you .” Sage did not miss the tone in his voice or the deadly glint in his eyes and nodded in affirmation. “ Now if you don’t mind I am going to retire to the den , please feel free to make yourself scarce . ” he said in the acerbic way only Haymitch can manage as he flitted out of the main room .

The hours of silence stretched as Prim got settled in , Sage went into town to find accommodation and the sun set. Haymitch got a little gitery as the hours ticked by and there was no sign of Katniss . Sure she should have finished her chores and mopping by now, the area around the ranch wasn’t the most populated and the back end of the property opened into a thick dense wood, and it wants exactly the safest area to be prancing around alone at this hour . The three sharp knocks on the door propelled him forward but his greeting got caught in his throat and he sure as hell believe in Rebirth now, because standing before him was a man who resembled Peeta Mellark so much he could have been an adult version doggleganger and in his arms he held up an unconscious Katniss and a squirming Buttercup. A random flash of lightning and the roll of thunder intimated them of an incoming shower . Guess it was best to prepare for another storm .

3/ like im talking to someone haha. Please dont respond if i made u feel idk uncomfortable or if u just dont feel like it! I always come see your blog and honestly you are my favorite person, you just feel safe and kind and like and actual angel kfhwkf ok i'll stop ilu bye 💞

hey love. i can relate to a LOT of what you said. im obviously not a doctor at all, but so much of what you described sounds like you're suffering from clinical depression or another form of mental illness. the impact of this can not be understated. it's easy to write off health issues that aren't physical, but your overall well-being depends on more than that. the symptoms are usually seriously exacerbated by staying inside all day every day, and by not relying on your support system (even if it's small.) and i totally get what that's like. it gets to the point where you have no accurate perception, everything just sort of feels genuinely hopeless even though in reality, that's never the case. but your brain will use your feelings of emptiness/sadness to truly convince you that it is. like, you think you only have 1 friend because of the way you are, right? but in reality, early adulthood is a fucking lonely place to be, since you no longer have school as a way of meeting people. it is sooo common to find yourself in periods of solitude when figuring out who you want to be. im not saying its not allowed to hurt, but it's not something to feel guilty over. anyway hating yourself because you're depressed and being depressed cause you hate yourself is a completely vicious cycle, and it is not your fault. i want to tell you that it is honestly natural to not know what you want from life at 22. you're just getting acquainted with adulthood, you don't have the experience to be self assured, and the world's already acting like you should have it figured out. 🙄 but one thing ive learned from observing my older sister and her friends is that none of them feel like they understand or like they're doing great. a lot of people in our age bracket are simply doing what they can to get through the day. because that is enough .there are no set milestones that you have to reach by X year in order to find future happiness, ok? what matters more, imo, is looking at what you can do right now to help break the cycle you're in. even if you don't want to. it all with taking care of yourself, everything else follows after. for me it was literally just washing my face and brushing my teeth every day. then building a loose outline of a routine. baby steps are very necessary and progress doesn't have to be fast or linear, but trying is always the point. if you have to rework your uni schedule then so be it. your mental health always comes before your education. i know thats easier in theory than in practice buy you need to look after yourself in order to find the motivation to attend your classes properly, and that will always be the bottom line.

more importantly though, i really think you need to talk to a professional about this. please don't ignore the idea, please don't give in to self destruction. if you're worried about the price, maybe you could research some cost effective resources in your area? there's often support groups, or community centers that may be able to refer you, or your uni may have a counseling system to offer....i know it's a lot of effort when all you want to do is hide. and im not saying it'll solve everything immediately. but talking to someone who is equipped to help you deal with the bad days AND who can help you identify the root causes of what's going on - well that can make a massive difference. medication may also be necessary, and very helpful. all of these options can make the future feel less daunting, and more like an enigma that is simply going to unfold as it should. talking and letting it all out can really give you a different perspective. it's ok to process negative emotions and to feel like giving up sometimes, but having the tools to know how to cope is what is going to allow you to find the sustainable 'okayness' that you're looking for. i understand that it's difficult, like beyond words difficult. but you are not doomed in the way you think you are. you're just young, you need support and you haven't lived the answers to your problems yet. so even if you just begin with calling a mental health hotline or talking to a friend/family member, or just considering it at least, then i really think that'll be a step in the right direction. it can seem sort of scary, but it's not as scary as suffering in silence and allowing this to get worse. especially because you don't have to. you're not alone. you may feel isolated, but you don't have to handle this all by yourself, love. anyway i don't want this to get too long but i hope you know that despite how much it hurts, there is always a way for everyone, including you. and you do deserve to create a wonderful life for yourself, even if you don't believe so. please think about what you need and curating your daily routine around reaching small goals that will make you feel better/get you out of your head. im absolutely rooting for you!! let me know if you need a friend. also thank you so much for sticking around on my blog dbdghfz im 😳😳 you're truly a sweetheart and i appreciate it so much. can't believe u like this shitshow but ily ❤️💘

The One About the Hermit Crabs

I haven’t really posted anything original lately. Life took a big dump on me back in January & I’m just starting to crawl out of the rubble. I’m not sure where I’d be without the kind and generous support of my friends @vkelleyart @argylefetish & @carryonsimoncarryonbaz. You guys were a rainbow spark of light in a pretty dark time. The rest of you: fic writers, artists, meme posters, rebloggers and the like. You helped too. Opportunities to focus on something besides drowning. 

Anyway. Enough about that. 

Here’s a lil’ uni AU Snowbaz fic that I wrote. It was inspired by a prompt from @carryonsimoncarryonbaz. Her prompt brought back memories of my 90′s dorm room, and my 2000′s hermit crab phase. The fic and some bonus material are beneath the cut ;) 

The One About the Hermit Crabs

Word Count: 1315

Summary: It was a routine room inspection. Typically, I just look around for contraband. A quick scan for illegal cooking devices, alcohol stashes and the like. “This room is a shit show, Snow. Are you hiding a body in here?" Simon and Baz are suitemates in their uni dorm. Just to notch up the tension a bit, Baz is also the RA and he's got a job to do.What will Simon do to convince Baz to let him keep his illegal but beloved pets?

Read on AO3 

Baz:

It was a routine room inspection. Typically, I just look around for contraband. A quick scan for illegal cooking devices, alcohol stashes and the like. Simon’s room is a deplorable disaster as usual. The only clean area is a path on the floor from the bed, to the bathroom, to the wardrobe, to the door. Every other horizontal surface in this room is strewn with clothes, paper and books. The walls are a nonsensical hodgepodge of band posters, concert flyers, newspaper comics, and photos. He lives like an animal.

Simon is splayed across his bed, pencil behind his ear, eating salt and vinegar crisps (Are those mine? WTF?). He glances up from his physics book, “To what do I owe this honor Mr. Baz?”

I’m pretty sure he’s being sincere with the “Mr. Baz” shit. Not a trace of snark or sarcasm. I’m his age for snake’s sake, I just happen to the RA of this god-forsaken shithole dorm. It’s not like I’m the queen.

“This room is a shit show, Snow. Are you hiding a body in here?”

Did Simon’s eyes just widen a little?

In the ensuing silence, there’s a pop, like a pebble thrown at glass.

“What the fuck was that?” I ask, scanning the room.

Simon sits up in his bed, eyes definitely wide. “What was what?” He stammers.

Well, this just got interesting.

I hear a brief crunching sound, like gravel shifting.

The color drains from Simons face, turning his skin a lighter shade of tawny, his moles lonely sentinels in stark contrast to the surrounding skin. It’s lovely, really, like tiny archipelagos in a sunset sea.

Focus, Baz.

I shoot Simon my finest glare, “What. The fuck. Are you hiding, Snow?”

Now that I think about it, does this room smell fishy? I had initially attributed the scent to masculine funk, but this has a marine edge to it. Fishy and gamey.

Snow has jumped to his feet and is in my face now. Well, technically three inches below my face, but somehow his presence seems to inhabit the space. He just fills it with sheer will, and I want to melt.

My heart races as I take a deep breath, I fucking hate conflict in general. Conflict with Simon is particularly difficult because it’s simultaneously edged with, well, an overwhelming desire to knock him down and snog the living daylights out of him.

“Don’t you need a warrant to search this room?” Simon exclaims.

I exhale. Slowly. I growl (probably a little louder than necessary) “No, you imbecile. This is uni, not the real world. I’m the RA here, and I get to do what I wish.” I stretch to my full height and glower down at Simon for full threatening effect. Truth be told, I just want to run away and let him be, but I have a job to do.

I reluctantly turn my back to Snow and search for the source of the noise.

“Can we just talk about this, Baz?” Simon changes tack, imploring now.

I ignore him and eye a particularly large pile of clothes on the dresser.

He grabs my shoulder as I make my way to the pile.

“Baz, STOP.”

I whirl on him, my shoulder on fire where he touched it. Fuck this. “The university has a strict no animals in the dorm rooms policy. It is my responsibility to enforce such policy, so back the fuck off and let me do my job.”

I sweep aside the pile of clothes to reveal an aquarium, over half filled with dirt, with a glass lid. The surface of the dirt consists of a lovingly arranged warren of sticks and plants, a wide, shallow bowl of clean water and a bowl of what looks like dead shrimp and egg shells.

“Dammit Snow, what is this, a terrarium?”

Simon’s cheeks redden. He looks at his feet.

“It’s a crabitat.” He replies.

“A what?”

Simon shoves his hands into his pockets, looks up at the popcorn ceiling, and takes a breath.

“Crabitat. For Calvin and Hobbes.” He exhales.

“Are you even speaking English?” I ask

He looks at me now. His eyes are blue. The color of a clear spring sky after a week of rain. A brilliant blue that I want to dive into, get lost in. Fuck. Are those tears?

“Calvin and Hobbes are my pet hermit crabs. I’ve had them for months, and I love them. They’re actually really cool, and for fucks sake Baz, can you please get your head out of your ass and just pretend you never saw this?”

I think he’s actually about to cry. He looks adorable right now. Full stop.

I cock my eyebrow. “What’s in it for me?” (What am I even doing right now? I’m resorting to bribery. What’s next? A life of crime?)

Simon brightens. “I’ll help you with your calculus homework. I see you working on it all the time in the library. You don’t seem to enjoy it.”

“Nobody enjoys calculus, you dolt.”

“I do.”

I curve my lips up and down and scrunch my eyebrows at him incredulously. “There’s something wrong with you.”

I allow myself to think, yes! Fuck yes! Teach me math. In your bed. Or mine (fewer crumbs). All night, until we fall asleep together and I wake up in your arms and smooth the ruffled curls off your forehead. Then you kiss me with your moles and your morning breath and call me darling. We skip class and snog all day, until our lips are sore. Rinse and repeat.

I do not allow myself to think about Simon noticing me at the library. Intuiting that I absolutely abhor calculus and anything having to do with math. Hours spent, trying to make sense of it all. What did he notice? Why did he notice?

“I know.” Simon interrupts my reverie. He smiles. “I love math. It just makes sense. It’s constant and predictable.” He looks away, “Unlike pretty much everything else in my life.”

I’m not sure what he’s talking about. He’s the golden child, here on a full academic scholarship. Internet famous for pulling a bunch of kids out of a fire at a care home years ago. He’s charming, devastatingly handsome, kind, and everybody loves him. Including me (in case you haven’t figured that out yet).

Fuck, what’s that look? He seems…sad? Thoughtful? This conversation is quickly leaning towards relational. The last thing I need is to talk about his feelings.

Time to change the subject.

“Aren’t crabs insects? You can’t love an insect, Snow. Get rid of them.”

Simon lowers his eyebrows, “They’re arthropods. They’re funny and cute, and I do love them, so you can fuck right off.”

Then he takes my hands. Why is he taking my hands? I should punch him. (I won’t punch him. I won’t hurt him.)

He’s looking into my eyes again. I can’t escape his piercing, devastating gaze. I lean away. Can he see my pulse racing? I’ll do anything for him. Anything.

“Baz. You’re right, they’re just glorified bugs. They’re not causing any trouble.” His voice is like butter and honey, “Nobody will notice them.” He actually smirks at me, “It’s not like they’re going to shit on the rug or chew up the furniture.”

“It’s against the rules.” I respond. Weakly.

“Please, Baz.”

Puppy dog eyes.

Fuck.

“Fine. Keep your disgusting creatures, but you will help me with my calculus homework.”

“Deal,” Simon proclaims.

He’s still holding my hands. Has he forgotten that he’s holding my hands? Has he forgotten what it means to hold hands?  He smells like bacon and intensity and looks like something I want to lick. Everywhere. I’m going to let him keep his ridiculous comic strip hermit crabs and he’s going to tutor me in math.

Crawley, what have I gotten myself into?

Bonus content: 

A photo of my actual dorm room in the 90′s, the inspiration for Simon’s:

uni recap 2019

I think it's really important for young studyblrs still in high school or junior high to be exposed to more detailed and honest uni experience anecdotes, so buckle up because it’s about to get real honest and a little personal in here.

I'm in the middle of the fall term of my second uni year, technically now in the 2nd year of my general B.Sc. and I need to start from the beginning a little bit, especially when it comes to my academic journey so far.

Let's start with junior high, when adults always want to ask what you want to be when you grow up. After going to a career symposium with friends, a field trip run by the school, that's when I heard about the College of Pharmacy at the "top" university of the province.

First thing that attracted me was that they make an annual $100k a year, and to my 14 year old impressionable mind that was convinced that my future had to revolve around making bank, I decided from there that I would work towards the end goal of becoming a pharmacist.

I was convinced that pharmacy was the ultimate goal to get my life going, as a real functioning adult of society.

Fortunately, I was wrong. It was a hard pill to swallow, but a necessary one nonetheless.

Since this is an academic recap, I won't bring up the mental health and physical health bits of the last eight years of my life, I'll fastforward to high school senior year, when I decided I would (as a minimal effort-get straight A's student) actually TRY in my studies again. It was because my work ethic had grown to a point that when I didn't try and still got a B or A, I was scared of the moment I would actually try and then not get an A or A+. I wanted to fight that fear of realizing that I'm not "effortlessly good at thngs" because I didnt want to have a fear of failure.

(Disclaimer: it's been three years since then and I'm still a work in progress when it comes to my relationship with failures but it is getting consistently healthier, despite bumps)

Thus, I started this studyblr three years ago, June 30th 2016 I believe?? My url was chemystery for the first few days but sophocused came up because of sophocles (not that hes my fave philosopher or anything) it just stuck ANYWAY IM GETTING DISTRACTED

So I actually tried in my last year of high school, worked hard and got A's in physics, pre-calculus, and AP chemistry. The AP chemistry came with a provincial exam, that in getting a score of 4, granted me a $150 reward, and the grade of a B in two university courses (2 chem prerequisites)

I was a fool and no one exactly explained to me that those 2 courses were even harder when taught through uni, because I really wasted nearly $1000 in taking those two courses again in my first year of uni, in hopes of turning them into A's.

I should probably mention that going into uni, the pharmacy program had 2 chem, 2 bio, 1 calc, 1 written course, and 2 electives, as prerequisites. My innocent mind, thinking it wouldn't be a big deal, registered for a full five and five course load, so that I could finish all my prerequisites within my first year of uni, and apply for the college of pharmacy by March. (Back then, it was still a Bachelor's program where selection process depended on your AGPA, and your mark on a written critical skills essay)

I learned the hard way that for university, it is a mentally and emotionally laborious task to try and juggle five classes, having to hold yourself accountable when it comes to attendance and figuring out what notes you want to take. There's no way to write physical hand-written notes for five courses (not for me anyway).

It was incredibly fast-paced as well, and I had many days where I just didn't want to get out of bed. I was so conflicted with my perfectionist mindset, and the pressure to get a 4.0 GPA that I spread myself so thin and honestly it was one of the most difficult years of my life. I still got out with 8 B's and 2 A's by the end of my first year. I was ashamed of those B's.

When it came to applying for pharmacy however, despite the grades I got, my GPA didn't make it to the minimum 3.50 needed to be applicable for pharmacy, but I got my transcript a month after I had already applied for pharmacy and I had even done the written exam.

I had to face my first big failure which was getting the email that they couldnt even look over or consider my application because my GPA did not reach the minimum required.

On top of that, I learned that I could not just simply try again the next year. This was because suddenly, the university decided they were going to change the Bachelors pharmacy program into a PharmD. A doctorate. To me, that meant they added eight more prerequisites (even more difficult uni courses with chem and human phys), and a required PCAT score. We also were not allowed to apply until Fall 2020. That meant, I now suddenly had no plan for my academic career for the next two years because I had really only ever thought about getting into pharmacy on the first try.

After a breakdown or two last year upon processing this, I had made the decision and talked to my parents about trying for it again, and doing the new prerequisites. This brought in the new mental turmoil of money on my mind during my summer after first year of uni, thousands of dollars this would cost, suddenly having no routine for four months after working at max brain capacity for 6 months.

My 2nd year of uni, fall 2018, a lot of growing had happened, a lot of processing of failure happened, just. a lot. happened.

October 2018, I got a job at a school, so I really juggled my school stuff with work. Five days a week, I would be up at 6-7am and then get home around 6:30pm, while doing human physiology, organic chemistry 1, an eastern religions elective, and an intro to statistics course.

long story short, yes I must spare you the details of the process of it all because it got pretty sad. That was my worst uni term, ending with 1 B, 1 C+, 1 C, and an F in organic chem.

My first F in university. My first F ever in my entire school life. It was a begrudging blow at my mental state, and I spent two to three weeks devastated. I dont know how I got out of it, I think one day I just said to myself, "Okay you got an F, but did you die?"

Honestly, the humour in that really cheered me up, among other things, and the emotional support I got from my older sister, and by the time I got into the 2nd half of my uni year (right now), I have discovered I potentially have a calling to become a teacher or to work in the lab as a technician.

Most importantly, most if not all of the credits I've earned, are also applicable to get into the Faculty of Education. Basically, I came to peace with having options, and digging deep into myself to really find the thing that I could really see myself doing based on my personality and interests, not just on the money and the rush of finishing school.

I just finished the longest midterm season of winter 2019, with my first midterm being early February and my last midterm + essay deadline on March 15th... I did well. I did well in trying to really take care of myself while trying to go to every class and trying to work hard as much as I could everyday. I think out of my many midterms, I got 1 A, 4 B's, and a C. These are all salvageable. I do still really want to keep working towards a 4.5 GPA but now I'm okay if that doesnt always turn out to be what I get.

Anyway I finally get to write something like this because I've been busy for the past month, a lot of things happened again in the midst of it all, but I'm still okay. I get a week to rest before my lab exam and then it's finals season.

This time, I'll try hard not to just let my life pass me by, with only ever school and academics in mind, I had gotten really sad these past few weeks, and I'm usually good at being my own antidote for that, but I really got to a point where I felt I had no strength to pick myself back up.

Last night I said "fuck it" and decided to go to my cousin's house who I hadn't seen in over a month to spend time with them instead of working on my 30% essay due midnight. Before I was so desperate to finish it, terrified of the 2% deduction per day it would be late, but after crying on the bus, I had had enough of letting my academics bring this much weight on my mental health. After spending four hours with my cousins and aunt, I came home to my mom, and I watched a two hour movie with her.

I didn't regret it one bit. I felt better than I had in a long, long while.

Now, this Friday, my grandma and other cousin are flying in, and I cant wait to just keep healing.

Thank you for reading, or scanning over, I hope you got something good out of this, as I am telling this story both for my sake, and for other students’ who might commonly find themselves in the same boat. I believe in you.

Things My Parents Did and Didn’t Teach Me

Hi! For this post I thought I'd do an exercise from one of my favourite podacats, On Purpose with Jay Shetty, from the episode titled: 6 Reasons Why We Need to Develop the Emotional Skills Our Parents Never Had. For this episode, Jay recommended listeners to create two lists: things we learnt from our parents, and things we taught ourselves. This exercise is helpful in our self-reflection and character development; it makes us realise that we shouldn’t take the valuable lessons that we passed on to us from our parents for granted, and it’s not the duty of our parents to provide us with the utmost perfect childhood and equip us with ever life hack, life lesson, emotional skills, because this is difficult to learn on our own, let alone teach a child. I’ve been living on my own for over four years now, it’s been a crazy wild journey, so I’ve been taking as much time as I need to process and figure out myself for myself and the people that I love. Here is my list and my take on the exercise:

Things my parents taught me

So just to be straight forward, I grew up with relatively strict, conservative Muslim, Asian parents. I’ve been through the typical stereotype aspects of this upbringing, I can’t say my experiences came under the extreme cases nor are they the polar opposite, but with that being said, there’s a lot more to it than the stereotype you see online, it’s never black and white. For those who may be unfamiliar with this childhood, let me briefly explain. Strict Asian parents are not the most gentle and affectionate parents, they have a weird way of showing that they love you and care for you. So their children would tend to chase success in greatest form success can come because they feel like only then will they be able to receive affection. Asian parents also have a tendency to have an obsession with controlling their children’s lives. In conservative Muslim households, some parents might use religious duty to manipulate their children. It isn’t uncommon for people with this upbringing to recall their parents pushing them that they had to do a certain thing because if they didn’t not only would they go to hell but their parents will also go to hell in the afterlife. There’s definitely a great level of pressure to fulfill great expectations, which is unfortunate because not everyone is blessed with opportunities and privileges in this life to exceed societal expectations. Sometimes I feel like it’s not the fault of the parents or the kids; there’s some parents who tell their kids “no, I don’t want you doing x” and the kid doesn’t even think of arguing back because the thought can’t even cross their mind, and in retrospect you never really know maybe the parent is willing to change their viewpoint had they made a sound argument in support of doing x because let’s be completely honest, parents don’t fully know what’s best for their kids and aren’t always right. 

My parents taught me the basics of how to be responsible, hard-working, and have respect for others and one’s self. Growing up I always knew being kind, genuine, authentic, spiritual, and patient was the key to living a peaceful life. As a child I was disciplined to the point where I felt shame and humiliation a bit too much, I would say it got unhealthy at a point so I could never discipline my own children, should I have them in the future, in the same way that my parents did to me. I couldn’t learn how to trust them as a kid. As said in the podcast a great many of children don’t learn trust from their parents, which is a shame but it also doesn’t mean that we’re doomed because it’s never to late to start again. If I have children, I wouldn’t use fear and manipulation as the first and ultimate tool for getting my children to listen, I want them to respect me but I also want them to trust me to the point where they know in their hearts they can come to me at any given situation and time and I will be there for them. 

I thank my parents every day for teaching me how to have a night routine; this has always kept me focused and I never actually appreciated it at the time. I have struggled with sleep as an adult but I would think back to what my parents taught me and get my ass back on the line by working on routine. I also have to thank my parents so much for giving me a love of reading and observation, because this has always kept my mind sharp and steady. I loved quiet time as kid and continue to now, it goes hand-in-hand with self-care so although self-care wasn’t explicitly taught it was indirectly taught to me by my parents. I dread to think of where I would be if my parents didn’t teach me how to love God. Teaching me to be a dedicated worshipper of God was one of the greatest gifts my parents gave to me because it’s always given me hope and lightness in my life. I learnt about my Indonesian-Acehnese culture and tradition from my parents. They taught me about my family lineage, how to be proud of where and what we came from because life is a journey about finding your way back, back to home, back to beginnings, back to God. My ethnic features as a kid used to be an insecurity of mine. This lesson was one that I took for granted and had to relearn from looking back at how my parents raised me. It since has become my source of strength. I used to hate my big ethnic nose, now I love my ethnic features for what they are because they represent my Arab lineage and what I came from. I’m even thankful for the important lesson of how to cook rice the proper way taught by my parents so I don’t have to learn the BuzzFeed way, which is horrendous. Now that I’m pondering, I think I got my sense of humour from my parents. My parents just know how to tell funny stories, always had a knack for storytelling. My mum does the best imitations of people that are just spot on. I always love talking to my parents when I’m not home. So that’s some of the valuable lessons my parents taught me. Moving on to what I taught myself...

Things I taught myself

I knew the basics of good work ethic, responsibility, and independence from my parents but I would say that I mastered those things for myself in my young adult years. This was done by trial and error, and also observing my close peers who I admire and look up to. How to live alone is also taught through trial and error experiences, it can't truly be taught from mere theory. I expanded my love of reading and read in all areas I could, although I still need to work on my reading habits. I love reading but sometimes I’d rather waste my time watching YouTube videos, I know, I really shouldn’t but I can’t help it sometimes! I knew the importance of loving God but my parents taught me strictly by the book from the Islamic teachings. Nothing wrong with that but I decided I could do more so I dived in much deeper in faith and spirituality and grew to love meditation because it kept me calm and helped me check in with my intentions. Self-love is a difficult concept to grasp because of all the unlearning which needs to be done, and personally I think the best way to approach self-love is in the self-discovery journey, so I don’t think my parents would be able to teach me this. As I’ve mentioned before trust is difficult to learn, it needs the relationship to be balanced and balance comes from seeing the other as an equal. I’m still learning to be good with money but so are my parents, and I’m glad we get to learn together. Stress and anger management is another thing I struggle with, but so do my parents and other people around me. Perhaps I could’ve benefited if I was introduced to meditation and breathing technique at an earlier age because this would be helpful for me as a child to manage stress and social anxiety. They say that social anxiety is inherited and I can see that in my parents and me. We’re all getting better at it, Alhamdullilah, but I shouldn’t have overthought my friendships and have as much social anxiety as I did back then. I was too anxious to let myself enjoy life's moments at times, and today I still feel like I'm doing this. I was never taught Indonesian history as a kid from my parents. I barely knew anything about my country being an expat. Nothing wrong with this but it was something I had to learn later on, glad it happened that way if I’m being honest because it meant that I was able to critically analyse whilst also taking in information. I knew I was fairly familiar with indifferent cultures and traditions because I grew up in a multicultural/multinational community, but I was tested to the limit in my learning of acceptance when I travelled in my uni days. This doesn’t just apply to people’s cultures but also people’s mindset. I've met so many different types of people through travelling and boy did I mert some crazy people over the years, but thank god for the crazy good people I've met along the way!

I’m not in any way resentful of my parents for not teaching me these things. Maybe with some of these things I as frustrated at the beginning and I may have lashed out at my parents out of stress because I didn’t know what to do with what I felt. But I’ve learn to let my emotions pass because they are afterall temporary. By doing this exercise, I know that I need to love my parents not for what they are, but for who they are. I hope to make my parents proud of me, not for my accolades but for who I’m capable of becoming. If you’re interest in doing this exercise, I hope you get to do so and share with as many people who might benefit from this too! Also before you do so I recommend to heck out On Purpose with Jay Shetty on podcast streaming platforms, go to the episode titled 6 Reasons Why We Need to Develop the Emotional Skills Our Parents Never Had and have a listen. Whilst you’re at check all other episodes too because they’re really good for self-reflection!

Life After Uni - What Next?

You study for three years, you get the degree that you have been working so hard to get and then suddenly you are walking across the stage and getting that piece of paper placed into your hand and tadaah you are pushed out into reality and then -… well, to be honest, then what?

Throughout my whole life, I have known exactly where I am going next, whether it was learning a new instrument or studying for A Levels, I always had an idea of what the next step would be. My own naivety took over however, when I left the University of Lincoln last September and realised… I have no idea what I am going to do next. It’s an incredibly scary concept, but I am lucky enough to be surrounded by people who support and guide me to help me figure out what I want to do, and also having people in my life who feel the exact same way!

“Don’t worry, I have no idea what I’m doing either.” – it’s always a slight relief hearing someone say those words to me, to hear that it’s okay to feel a little lost and it’s also okay to not have all the answers right now.

In another blog, I will talk about my own experiences throughout University that were quite different to the picture that was originally painted for me. Don’t get me wrong, university was one of the best experiences of my life, but there were also parts of it that were not what I expected. But that’s for another post.

The key thing here is, that I also had this expectation of myself, to succeed in obtaining a degree and then landing myself this perfect job. The silly thing is, I was never told this by anyone at university. I never had a lecturer come up to me and tell me that my dream job would be handed to me in the same way that the piece of paper engraved with my degree was placed into my hand during my graduation ceremony. I was never told by my parents that the second I stepped into the adult world, the phone would be ringing non stop and I would getting a million emails telling me another company wants me for the job. Even typing it out and seeing the words in front of me, it all seems ridiculous and immature to think in such a way. And yet, there was a part of me that told myself it would be hard work to get a job that I love, but only a part of me really believed it. You see, after all these years in education, all the late night library sessions, the random outbursts of emotion that would turn into laughter or crying, I thought that I would send an email out (two, three maybe four) and I would get the job that I wanted. I thought I had earnt it. And I have. It just takes time. Six months later, since officially graduating from University, I’m still not in my dream job. I work as a bar tender at my local pub, I’m learning to drive, I write and create my own music, I have amazing friends and an incredible boyfriend, and I have a family that are supporting me in a time where I do feel very lost. When you are sending out emails, calling companies up and trying to sell yourself to them, the constant rejection can become depressing. It’s a hard journey. Many of my friends feel the same or to me, seem to be doing far better than I feel I am. University was such an adventure. I had independence, I was able to do what I wanted, when I wanted. I held a part-time job, went out with friends and loved my degree, all whilst still being in a safe environment where money wasn’t too much of an issue, (in the sense that bills were paid through student finance, and you still had the support network from the university.) Finishing now, I have moved back home. I can no longer just walk everywhere like I could in Lincoln and I suddenly feel like a prisoner in my own house, or like I’m letting myself and others around me down, because I’m not where I feel I should be in my life. The prospect of University is sold so highly to us, but I think sometimes it is the path and what to do next, that is lacking in the support network of the University facilities and the society we live in. The comfort blanket I had during my time in Lincoln is something I completely took for granted, so I am writing all of this just to let people know that:

It gets easier. You will find that job, a new routine and it all becomes a lot more comfortable.

Everything takes time. Work and earn money but don’t feel that the job you are in now is where you will be for life. The world is at your fingertips – it all just takes time and determination.

Its okay to feel lost.

Most importantly – let yourself have a bad day. Have a day where you need to re-energise. You can feel poop about not being where you want to be but talk to someone. A friend. Family member. Anyone. It’s such a comfort when you realise others are in the same boat as you

This post isn’t about being negative or moaning about life after university. Instead, it’s to give others the realisation that this next step is really hard. It’s so easy to compare yourselves to others you see on social media, or to beat yourself up about it. It’s difficult not to feel lost or drained from the whole process. The more we talk about it, the better, so that the process of it all can become easier and better to deal with. Everything will eventually slot into place. It all just takes time, patience and hard work. Don’t give up and don’t feel alone. We all feel it right now or have felt that way at some point. There is also nothing wrong with admitting it and talking to someone. University was epic but this next step – that’s where the true adventure begins!

Advice to CompSci students and recent graduates

I thought I’d give some advice to people from a seasoned engineer. I’ve been in computing since I was 19, so nearly 10 years now, and I did this when I actually used tumblr regularly and got a fair few reblargs about 5 years ago, so I thought I’d repeat it now that I’m a little older an more jaded and see how we go. So let’s get started!

UNIVERSITY DEGREES DON’T MATTER IN THE LONG TERM

This is probably the hardest thing to swallow. You work your ass off for 3 or 4 years at university for what? A bit of paper? Truth be told, after a couple of years working nobody will care, and it will count for naught.

NOBODY GIVES A SHIT ABOUT YOUR MARKS... IF YOU’VE BEEN WORKING

Want to know my average mark? Somewhere in the 65-70% region. I pulled a Credit or distinction for most courses. What did I learn? Some fun stuff, but not much of it was useful outside algorithms, software construction and design. The other courses I did were cool, but I learned way more by diving into relevant open source projects.

To be completely honest, the best engineer I know is a university drop out, so don’t sweat it if you fail a course or two. With some work there’s still going to be pathways for you.

As a thought experiment, put yourself in the shoes of a potential employer. They have two candidates, someone like me, not getting great marks, but has been working nearly fulltime through university and has a great reference from his old boss, and someone with no work experience but a straight 90% average mark. Who is a less risky choice? 

The person with the job has worked with computers in a practical setting, outside the lab, and had to deal with the consequences of his or her decisions in real life. The person that’s concentrated on uni? Sure, they be smart, but have they ever had to deal with a stakeholder? Have they had to create actual working pipelines for their work? Have they ever had to support and maintain any of their code after an assignment? 

Who will take less time to get up to speed in this situation? My advice is that if you enjoy study, great, whatever, but remember that universities will never drop you in a situation where everything is burning down and expect you to fix it. The earlier you learn to cope with that scenario, the better, and as it becomes a routine thing you will start to form practical links between your study and useful information, thereby beefing up your marks with minimal extra study.

MANAGE AND TRACK YOUR TIME

This isn’t what your parents tell you, "you spend too much time playing computer games and on that god awful tumblr site” is an astute observation, but not something you can really action in isolation. What is useful, however, is knowing how you spend your time and how you can optimise it. This is perhaps the most difficult thing to do, because it’s tedious and boring, but even just setting your timetables and work times in your calendar as a recurring event can help, and from there you can start to have a better idea of how much time you actually have to spare every day. Get into the habit of this, and I promise you, you will never run late or work overtime ever again.

MAKE NOTES ON WHAT YOU’RE DOING

Lectures, eh, I never found notes that useful since they were all recorded. Personal taste though, I know a lot of people that lived in their notebooks.

That being said, I do keep a very tight grip on my design and implementation decisions. I like using OneNote for this, because I can quickly scribble down ideas and to-do lists, and paste in code snippets for later. Another program that could work is Scrivener, and one of my classmates even kept an Excel spreadsheet with a workbook for each thing he was working on (I suppose you could use something like KEdit or Atom, but I like to lay things out in a very specific way so I don’t have to scan through anything. Find what works for you and keep it that way). When it comes time to stand up in front of my team and tell them about the project, I can always answer any question thrown at me. I don’t have to sit there thinking about it and trying to remember exactly why I chose library A over library B or why I thought this class was garbage and restructured it.

CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS A CHANCE FOR YOU TO IMPROVE AS AN ENGINEER, IF YOU GET HUFFY YOU’RE MISSING OUT ON A GREAT OPPORTUNITY

Leave your ego at the door and be a team player. You’re never going to be alone on a project, and you’ll do well to listen to your teammates and converse with them in calm terms. 

If you get upset every time someone makes a suggestion on how to improve your Already Perfect Code™, not only are you going to look like a pompous dick but you’re going to completely reject this lesson someone is offering you for free. Everybody is there to get their job done, and if you get in the way and refuse to compromise and discuss your implementations you can’t expect to keep your job for long.

The flip side to this is that not all advice is good. In time you will learn to recognise this, because shitty advice will make your job harder, but when you’re just starting out it’s best to assume people probably know something you don’t.

CODING STYLE AND NAMING STANDARDS MATTER

You want to know what the stupidest argument on the internet is? Tabs v spaces. It gets nasty, and I saw classmates in uni get into yelling matches. My opinion is I’m a spaces guy, but I do what the rest of the team does. Why? Because consistency.

Have you ever opened up an old project you worked on at uni with a few different people and thought “oh dear god, what were we thinking”? I can assure you that part of this mess will be down to the different styles you all employed in your code. When doing this in a professional setting, it needs to be consistent to ease readability and ensure the team doesn’t misinterpret code. The lucky thing is, all the best IDEs have plugins that will do all this for you and throw warnings when something isn’t right.

PEOPLE SKILLS ARE PARAMOUNT

This doesn’t apply to everyone, but I know that a lot of us are basement dwelling nerds, but being awkward is something you need to get past. Working in software is just as much about your interactions with people as it is how good you are at making computers do what you want. How can you expect to get a good list of requirements from a client if you’re too shy to ask them tough questions? How do you function in a team if you can’t communicate with the people assigned to help you on a problem? 

This is definitely something that can be learned if you put some work in. The way I did was just to hit it head on on the job and start out just trying to reword what the client was telling me they wanted. It’s not ideal, but it took a lot of awkwardness out of the exchanges I had. From there, I just started talking to people in bars, not hitting on anyone, just chatting while we were in line for a drink or something. Didn’t have to be anything specific, I just said the first thing that came to mind, and boy did I spill the spaghetti more than a few times. But you know what? I learned from it, and become much better at at least pretending I wasn’t a giant, awkward weirdo, which leads me to my next point...

ADMIT YOUR MISTAKES EARLY AND LEARN FROM THEM 

You will fuck up. You are not perfect. Do not double down, especially when you’re brand new to the workforce and everyone will grant you three times the patience they’d grant to someone like me. Every time you screw something up, you will learn way more than if you did it right first time, so don’t sweat it and learn how to admit to your own failures and work on fixing them rather than learning how to cover them up.

DON’T BE AFRAID TO MOVE ON

‘nuff said. Always keep abreast of the job market and have your resume ready to go with a number of cover letters for different types of employers. Consider this a risk management and profit maximisation strategy if nothing else, and always know how much you’re worth to the company you work for (and be honest to yourself about it). In saying this, though, I tend to aim for a minimum 2 years with a company outside of contracts. It takes a while to onboard someone and bring them up to speed, especially in software, so be mindful of how it would look if you moved around too much.

This point is something I can definitely reinforce with my own personal experiences. I’ve been through 2 redundancies up until now, and both were for similar reasons, in that I was cheap to move off the work roster. My first I was on casual time, so wasn’t legally entitled to any redundancy payout, and the second because I’d only been with the company for a year and was only entitled to a small payout. 

The other thing to note here is that if you work for a small company, chances are someone high up will do the firing personally. For me it was the CEO in both situations, so don’t burn your bridges here and be an ass. A personal endorsement from a C level executive will net you serious credit and at least an extra $5-10k at your next position, so be professional and make sure that’s the image of you they keep in mind when someone comes ringing for a reference.

LEARN AUTOMATED TESTING

If you’ve never worked in a real setting, this probably sounds stupid. 

“Why would I write tests when I can just run the application and look at the output myself?”

Oh my sweet, summer child.

This one will come in handy for when you’re sick of spending 5 minutes loading up an application, clicking through and getting your inputs right, then waiting for it to finish. There are many different schools on how to do this, but truth be told even though nearly every company does it, most people on a team will do it slightly differently. 

I’m of the school that will figure out the outputs for each component, write the skeleton for each one, then write the tests after having a basic implementation in place. This works for me, because I will often change the architecture and interfaces of an application as I go along and learn more about the problem domain.

On the other hand, my teammate will write the tests before she does anything else and generate stubs for everything she has to do. This is also a perfectly valid way of doing things and one I’ve seen used a lot, but it does require a more in depth plan and better understanding of what you’re putting into place before your fingers even start to tap out that code.

The third “correct” way of doing it is developing the tests as you go along, which is also perfectly valid, though I find with the way I work it adds a lot of overhead in my development time.

The process here is a personal one, and I’ve had a lot of heated debates in the past with zealots who insist on a particular way. Don’t be that guy, because as far as I’m concerned you need to find out which way works for you and stick to it while letting other people be productive in the way they do things.

SHITTY LANGUAGES THAT EVERYONE USES OFTEN HAVE AWESOME TOOLSETS AND ECOSYSTEMS

Yes, Java is shit, I know, but have you ever used Gradle?

How about JavaScript? Node is popular for a very good reason, you know.

Before completely dismissing a technology, be sure to check out what people are doing on the edges. I was a .NET programmer for many years and was locked into the absolutely amazing C# language, but the horrendous MSBuild build system. I started looking over the Java side of the fence and found a wonderful ecosystem full of amazing tools and even more amazing and dedicated developers maintaining them. 

The rule of thumb is, if the language is shitty, people will build some cool tools around it to overcome its limitations. If the language is good, it can be a victim of its own success in a lot of ways. Don’t just look at a language, much sure you look at the tools that come with it, too

READ AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE

Yes, this is where I crack out Stephen’s must read list: Software edition.

Code Complete - Seriously THE book for amazing software construction. I’ve read my copy many times and keep it handy to refer back to it a lot

Introduction to Algorithms - The only textbook from uni I keep coming back to. An absolute treasure trove of great info, and provides insight into why your application is running really slowly or blowing out its memory heap

 Introduction to the Personal Software Process - Want to be a better engineer? Read this, and figure out the best bits that apply to you. It’s bureaucratic, but it’s where I got my obsessive note taking and time tracking from and I stand by it as one of the best process oriented books I’ve ever read

Refactoring to Patterns - Your code is garbage, but you can’t quantify exactly what’s wrong with it? This is the book for you, and as a bonus it will help you fix it in a sensible way. Great as a reference, and I keep the quick reference list from the inside cover in my laptop bag.

Patterns of Enterprise Architecture and Enterprise Integration Patterns - These are fucking cumbersome tomes and very difficult to slog through, but will serve you well with some of the stupid, overengineered crap people have done in larger systems. 

Continuous Integration - This is what’s done in the real world. Learn what it is and how to do it.

Continuous Delivery - Some places do this, but most really need to start. This book is a little enthusiastic about it, but the points it makes in regards to delivery methodology are spot on

The Lean Startup - You want to start your own million dollar company? Of course you do. Read the shit out of this one and learn what it means to be a customer driven, adaptive company. It will also serve you well working in agile teams, as you can help institute better processes and understand why things are done in certain ways.

Risk and the Smart Investor - “Yeah man, but I’m a free spirit hacktivist and I’m going against the man I don’t need money row row fight the powah”. Yeah, ok, I was young and unemployed at one point too. When you’re ready to be an adult and learn how to make your money work for you, spend the $20 on this book instead of Twitter or Yahoo shares. It walks you through various ways of hedging your risk and diversifying investments while also telling you the stories of two men who have lived very different lives and how they’ve spent and invested their money. If you want to make sure you don’t get suckered into a get rich quick scam and have a little nest egg put away for your twilight years, this is vital reading.

And that’s about all I can think of right now. I will try to blog more, I have some ideas for some home projects that I want to pursue over the next couple of weeks so I can get some things straight before I need to do them at work, so will probably write about them. Lately my routine has been wake up at 6:30, at work by 7:30, come home 5:30-6, go to the gym for an hour, come home, practice guitar for an hour or two, then go to bed. Absolutely thrilling lifestyle, but it should start to slow down in a little soon as I settle into this new job. 

hi, i was wondering how i can get diagnosis independently such as online or something because im finding it difficult to tell m y parents about my symptoms. im regularly dissociating and nothing feels real and im constantly suicidal and have intrusive thoughts and do impulsive things like harming myself,,, i need answers

HI anon ! Thank you so much for your ask !

depending what you want from a diagnosis will depend where you go. I’m glad you're talking about your worries about parental involvement into your health, as i actually was referred without parental involvement at all to my child and adolescent mental health service (uk mental health system) ! be it from the issues being sources from home/ worried about parents potential negative outlook to treatment or diagnosis/ family circumstance which can in turn result in a difficult treatment process as you can already be maybe experiencing , but i strongly still advise if there’s a way to educate (if its not a case of safety or worsening mental health obviously) parents, family or gradually open debates on general mental health or provide a way for any parent or carer to then be in a better mindset and moral position to help you when you may need it most or support you along treatment, and if this is not possible find friends you can be open with or a teacher, therapist, social worker/counselor, just someone you can trust ! :). some adult try to think of (especially their) children in the best light so mental health issues can be a little confusing and feel most helpful cover it up (till its over) kinda thing (which any professional will tell you ‘off the bat’ is not how it works with mental health, brain is an organ that requires care on top of that body part being also linked up to your whole body, so is a priority and no care can make things much worse) especially very confusing for a parent or someone who has never experienced dissociation before. thats my step one, step two is back to thinking who to ask! so, for example, if your looking for help with your symptoms or a treatment path, but step one if family isnt working out right now or you don’t feel now is the right time (which i understand, and agree with you if thats your choice trust me aha) i would recommend counselors that can work into your school schedule with our disrupting a school timetable and take notes of symptoms and then transfer them to a phycologist that can privately come in for you to meet with you outside of school, remember often admitting discomfort around parental involvement is often respected and makes things easier! if your not at school or uni/college a local church or temple will have someone you can talk to and they tend to be a lot more private with information, as they won’t, have a name and document attached to you like in a school setting, but can be a more lengthy wait to meet a genuine diagnostic phycologist who can recommend you then for dpdr treatment as unlike a school there’s no laws ensuring time limits for waits, but i can almost guarantee they will know your local centers or services specific to you too during that wait.  ,or if you’re rather looking for the validation of a diagnosis and less of a treatment (which i do not recommend without then digging further for treatment after diagnosis as of the serious nature of dpdr) making appointments with your doctor and use key symptoms and words, bring up dpdr prior if possible, on phone or email etc and prepare your doctor to learn about dissociation before appointment as they will be a general practitioner and likely not even be aware of dissociation so dont let this hold you back from receiving help., use bus routes and learn your transport to your doctors and work out how to get there by yourself or with non-family related transport like friends etc. if being physically present for an appointment doesn’t work discuss with local church/temple or school to write a recommendation for as you said ‘online’ are “skype”/video call or “phone based” therapies and appointments which my university has and i believe is a method being implemented universally around the world atm, although I’m not sure how comfortable most diagnostic doctors are with creating a fully diagnosable profile of a person without seeing you interact in real terms with them and talk face to face but this can help create a profile, speed up the whole process, as less in centre time for a doctor to schedule and limit total of parental questioning visits out of the house without an excuse if your a bad liar like me aha. if your still worried about your privacy? discuss legality of search up on your age and information sharing laws of where you live. but this should in no shape of form limit your ability to get support when you need it, so don't let fear or other people come between you’re health and especially with what your describing its critical to find treatment as soon as possible as it can have longer lasting and faster recovery from damaging symptoms. so step three you’ve found the path of entry to a doctor best suited for you, create a list of symptoms, as i know i certainly dissociate during a session and can’t imagine the bravery it takes to make that first jump for you so to avoid your dissociation limiting your treatment again ill reiterate, use keywords, key symptoms ideally in perspective to how its effecting the main “three life indicators” social life, work and school life, and day to day routine functioning and use depersonalisation and derealisation, dissociation, etc as this helps your doctors more than imaginable in figuring out what’s going on in your head, remember  even the experts aren’t experts  and will need your guidance sometimes to reach a conclusion to help you or recommend you to the right people for you, be honest!. some resources to help you find some words that will ‘click’ better with a doctor and other help dpdr related->  (http://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/types-of-mental-health-problems/dissociative-disorders/dissociative-disorders/#ddd). as i know with my doctors at least they we’re very confused initially and then extra time had to to be spent on rewording my experiences to what they were taught as they were not very well working with dissociative disorders but of course had the basic training as a phycologist. dissociation is terrifying as im sure you know so i recommend finding grounding or ‘time slowing’ techniques that help to slightly regaining enough time to prevent impulses taking over your ability to control your own bodies actions. its key to not panic during dissociation and sometimes sit and accept the sensations even if quite violent or sensory distressing, gaining control when your not there to be in control is something i combat every day and it can feel scary but certain techniques like going limp or short term solutions to keep you from harm is important right now till you get the support you feel you need. i also recommend discussing medication before talking any as many effect dissociation and should be taken into consideration which many doctors forget and EMDR is the best and latest treatment for chronic dpdr ! so make sure this is mentioned in your first appointment as to put you on the waiting list asap i write a bit more on it here -> and dpdr in general to help you or anyone your talking to to understand it all a bit better ive written and used external information to help me put this page together https://dpdr-dreams.tumblr.com/about%20dpdr  

although treatment can vary too , remember they will be trauma-related treatment rather than only grounding technique worksheets as your symptoms are 24/7 dissociation,( some suffer from off and on anxiety induced moments of dpdr , so dont let your doctor confuse these things and put you on the wrong care programme) the treatment list will be, CBT, talk therapies, medication for other emotional health issues you may also be experiencing, but the most important treatment at the moment  for dpdr is EMDR, so as of your long lasting sensations i’d say it would be best fighting for that care plan :).

again if its more you feel you struggle abit to talk with parents but are able to if possible persist! and educate! u can use some of the information i provided to help you make your point to your parents if that’s easier or write down how you feel or the symptoms of a real illness you’re experiencing to your parent, find a way if possible! :)) 

if you feel you need a sense of validation of dissociative experiences i recommend DES like tests online as they’re linked to most clinical tests and can help you label your illness to yourself as it is common in dissociation to feel confused over it all as of the nature of dissociation-> http://www.traumatherapyboulder.com/mental-maladies-and-the-history-of-the-dsm/treatment-of-ptsd-dissociation/the-dissociative-experiences-scale-des/

and of course if you are in a state of crisis or need someone externally to have a talk to about what your going through which i know can happen so easily when dealing with such persistent and uncontrollable illnesses here’s a mix of phone, text and live chat spaces to help you when you need-> 

  The Trevor Project Call 866-488-7386 (24/7) Live Chat with the Trevor Project (Fridays 4:00 PM to 5:00 PM EST)

Crisis Text Line: Text SUPPORT to 741-741 (24/7). Our trained counsellors can discuss anything that’s on your mind. Free, 24/7, confidential.

thanks again for your important ask :) sorry if it was wordy and general or was a bit of a word jumble.of course i have experience with it so if you have more questions, or later questions at any point after you found your pathway and/or plan for care i will be willing to be more specific as i dont know your country and its laws of practice of course, and stay safe anon, seriously hope you the best ! x

You're writing is excellent! I love the romantic, expressive style. I was thinking about starting to write fan fiction myself, but I've never really done so (minus one crack fic for a friend and a treasure chest full of hand-written Indiana Jones stories from the fifth grade) and I'm shy about sharing my writing. Any advice?

hello, lovely! so i sent you a private message a while ago asking if it was okay to publish this question, because i think it’s a really thought provoking one, but i’ve not heard back so i’m just going to go ahead and have a chat! if at any point you’d prefer that we talk in private, just let me know!

so i’ll tackle this in bullet point form, just because it’s easier to get my thoughts in order, so here goes!

just do it. which may seem ridiculous, especially if you are shy about your writing or you’re unsure about your interpretation, or it feels like there are so many authors around, and how could what i have to write possibly contribute in any way? the answer is really very simple. just go for it. the thing is with writing is - like most if not all creative arts - the act itself is private, but the end product is public. unless you describe or detail every moment of the writing process, people will only ever know how you struggled over a single line or how you thought about this great metaphor or how you tried to incorporate this tiny detail……. and this is both a blessing and a curse. in terms of fan fiction, it can be a great tactic to focus on the end product as contributing to a larger body of work (i.e. the fandom’s fan fiction), and the writing of it as a process that is helping you personally develop as an author and a creative being. 

write what you want to read. i can really never, ever say this enough. if that means that you write another paris fic, or another first meeting fic - whatever, just go for it! you want to read it? do it! but if you have a wild AU idea, or an unusual oneshot in mind….. i highly recommend you just take it and run and see where it takes you. there is nothing more wonderful than being able to, 1. write something you are genuinely passionate about; and 2. to see other people react with equal passion. i have been in previous fandoms where people have come up with the most left field ideas that have rapidly become fandom classics - simply because they were the first people to think of the idea, and not only that, but to actually sit down and write it! when you are engaged with what you’re producing, it makes sitting down and writing a joy and not a task. which brings me to…

taking time to write. this happens differently for everyone. i can detail my own process, if that helps. i have made writing part of my every day routine. by this i mean that i am so used to sitting down and writing of an evening (my peak creative period, especially for the ~aesthetic of my work) that it feels weird when i’m not doing it. if for whatever reason (real life, uni shit, social obligations) i don’t have time/energy to write, i’ll substitute it by coming up with a new scene idea and jotting it down, or thinking about a tricky plot/character point as i go about my daily life. this way i remain engaged with what i’m writing, i’m using my free/busy time as effectively as possible, and when i sit down to write, because i’ve got 647643 ideas in mind, it’s just a matter of simply getting it down on the word doc! this will be different for you, and that’s good. the important thing is that you find what works, you stick to it, and you just push it as far as it can go.

demystify the process. writing is not some miraculous, sacred, all-consuming THING that must be bowed down to OR ELSE!!! it’s just writing. it’s just fic. that’s it. the sooner you get rid of the following issues, the easier the process will be. these are: 

it does not have to be perfect. in fact, it won’t ever be perfect! probably 50-60% of you write will be utter rubbish. some will be halfway decent (this will become the backbone of the final draft) - and the rest is golden, do not touch, this line is gorgeous. just accept that some things will be good, some bad, and some in between - and this is all okay! this is all brilliant! embrace it! what fun would there be if everything just came out without any revision?

it is a learning process. you are learning. unless you are a published author, or you are doing a writing degree or course, you’re learning. this is excellent. because what comes to you naturally will be honest and raw. let yourself enjoy the journey, the uncovering of the mystery, of what you’re capable of. just enjoy it. writing is a calming, expressive, fun, wonderful thing to do. when you start to publish fic rapidly, you will learn more quickly. you’ll figure out what works and you’ll figure out what bad habits you form. (* side note: i have figured out a bad habit of mine that i can tell you about if you like - it’s something i’m VERY AWARE OF but i’m pretty sure that once i mention it, you won’t know what i’m talking about). but you’ll never get to this stage unless you are writing in the first place!

nothing or no one starts out as well known/famous/whatever. i’m not saying that receiving accolades for your work isn’t wonderful - god knows i’m a slave for validation! but part of figuring out why you want to write is also about figuring out who and why you’re writing for. is it for an end goal? a friend? yourself? do you want to practice writing? want to be the next big fandom hit? want some downtime as you work on wip novel? figure it out and go from there. nothing is wrong or better than the other - it’s all about what you want to get out of the process. once you make fan fic a productive, enjoyable thing, it will be easier, and once it’s easy, it will simply come from you with little to no coaxing. that timeline will vary from person to person, and this is good and natural. 

WRITING IS NOT ABOUT BEING PERFECT. this!!! really bears repeating!!!!!! if it was perfect, why bother? if it’s easy, what’s the point? once you put work out there and get people reading and talking about your writing, you are contributing to your own process. you are learning what you can improve on, what works, what is your signature style. the public/personal interaction happens in conjunction with one another. so you will learn new things even as your readers pick up on stuff, and vice versa: someone may tell you things you hadn’t realized before, which leads you to reflect on just how you got to that point… it’s all organic. it’s slow. it just happens and you should enjoy it.

have fun! writing is about having fun. it’s about writing something you’re passionate about. it’s about sharing what you feel with other people. it’s a wonderful process that isn’t scary, impossible, or hard. it only feels difficult because of fandom/life’s obsession with being perfect. but when you spend too much time worrying about 1. what other people think, or 2. if it’s “up to standard”, you’re cutting your nose off to spite your face. you’re worrying instead of doing. publishing is a very daunting process. i know - it is. you’ll spend time refreshing the chapter, seeing the hit counter stay the same. you’ll have a conniption every time someone comments. or leaves kudos. even when it’s like “great work” you’re like A REAL LIFE PERSON THINKS THIS IS GREAT WORK. i’m not going to lie about any of this: i’m notoriously neurotic about the publishing/reception of my work. but i also write because i genuinely, deep down just love it. writing makes me so happy. it takes my mind off things. it is my way of expressing myself. i find myself writing almost all the time - sentences get stuck in my mind or i’ll think of a plot idea or a reason for a character doing xyz - that i have to rush to make a note of it. all the time i’m learning. and when people pick up on things or make a comment about something i thought only i’d get… that’s pretty damn special. that makes it worth it.

so really what i’m saying is that you’ll only know unless you try. i would so encourage and support you to go ahead and write a piece of work and publish it! you may very well surprise yourself. and that’s really quite a fantastic feeling to have.

Chapter 17: The Heart of the Problem

Fic Summary: “Everyone had a link with their soulmates, some could hear some of their partners thoughts, some had a tattoo that would appear with their partners name; for me, I knew when they got sick.” For a while Phil has thought that his soulmate might have an eating disorder and doesn’t expect to meet him in the restaurant where he works.

Genre: a lot of fluff, recovery, really fucking domestic, waiter!Phil

Warnings: eating disorders, anorexia, bulimia, hospitals, panic attacks, references to past abuse, mentions of suicide, a lot of awkwardness, small amounts of smut. This is potentially triggering so for your own sake, please think twice about reading if anything this might affect you.

Disclaimer: I don’t have personal experience with eating disorders, but have done some research. If I have anything about them wrong, feel free to send me an ask and I’ll sort it out.

Word Count (for this part): 4.7k

[Uploads will be approximately every couple of weeks! (hopefully)]

A/N: This was originally going to be included in last weeks chapter, but it seemed wiser to split it into two updates. Glad I did because I’ve been busy with school deadlines and preparing for my uni interview - hopefully I’ll have more time to write in a week or so.  Announcement - I have a new  sideblog, @philsdrill-updates, where I will post only about updates for this fic, so if you want a notification when I update, you can turn on notifications for the blog if you want! 

MASTERPOST

<= Previous Chapter

Dan’s POV:

My alarm woke me bright and early, it's annoying sound blaring near my ear. I turned it off quickly, feeling thankful that it hadn't awoken Phil. I could vaguely recall being in a sleepy haze, and him getting up and spending a while in the bathroom. He would need longer to sleep as a result.

Thinking about it, maybe it was just me drifting in and out of consciousness that had made it feel like a long time. After all, things before rather disjointed when you're half asleep. I'd ask him what happened when he got up. It can’t have been too bad, otherwise he would’ve woken me.

I had a phonecall to make, so I got up from bed and headed to the living room. I tested out my voice first to ensure I hadn't lost it overnight, before making the call. I was still a little early, but as I'd expected, the staff were in a little before the hour.

Being their first call of the day, the receptionist was able to offer a variety of emergency appointments. Phil's doctor wasn't free today, but mine was one of the ones they offered an appointment with, so I picked him. He did a good job whenever I went to see him, so I felt I could trust him with Phil.

The appointment was for ten thirty, so I'd have to get Phil up pretty soon. I wanted to give him time to take it easy, maybe have a shower if he wanted, whatever he needed to do. I returned to our bedroom and gently awoke Phil. He seemed a little bit dazed at first, but I told him about the doctor's appointment and he slowly started to waken up.

“How're you feeling?” I asked him, interested what difference a night's sleep had made.

“I don't know yet,” he said, “Currently, not too bad, but I haven't moved yet.”

“Were you in the bathroom for a while in the middle of the night or was that just me being half asleep?” I asked him, feeling that now was the moment to bring this up, “Were you sick again? You should've said.”

“Not quite,” Phil said, his cheeks turning a little pink, “Just the other thing that sometimes comes with being sick...you know…”

“Yeah,” I nodded, “It's okay, and I get it's embarrassing to talk about. Are you feeling a bit better now though?”

“Yup,” Phil said cheerily, “I guess I should get up though and see how the rest of me feels.”

Phil slowly pulled himself up and rested against the headboard, “I’m going to take things slow, and not get up too quickly.”

After a few minutes of sitting up, Phil got to his feet. I was standing by as a precaution, in case he didn’t feel so good, but he seemed okay.

“Do you want to have a bath or a shower or something?” I asked him, knowing that he probably felt in need of a wash.

“I don’t really have the energy to stand for a shower, so a bath I guess,” Phil said, yawning.

“Okay,” I said, going ahead of him into the bathroom.

I turned on both bath taps, and swirled the water around, adjusting the taps until what was pooling felt like the right temperature. I tipped in a little bubble bath and swirled my hand through it again. Meanwhile, Phil was slowly getting undressed behind me. As the bath was nearing the right level, he was now standing naked, and shivering.

“You want to get in while it’s still running?” I asked, rubbing his goosebumped arms.

Phil nodded and stepped around me into the bath. His shivering stopped a minute or so after he’d sat down, but I kept the water running until it covered his legs and most of his stomach. I grabbed a flannel from the towel rail and tossed it into the water next to Phil. I figured, that as he wasn’t feeling too good, I’d give him a hand and let him relax more. Phil didn’t try to stop me, which he probably would have if he was feeling okay. I used the flannel to wash pretty much all of him, and then set it to the side when I was done.

Phil let out a sigh, “Thanks.”

“We’ve still got plenty of time, so take as long as you need,” I told him.

“I think I’ll get out pretty soon, actually,” Phil responded, “It’s starting to get a bit cold.”

“I can put some more water in?” I suggested.

Phil refused the idea, telling me that he didn’t want to shrivel up ‘like a complete raisin’. When he was ready to get out, I got up to get his towel for the radiator so I could ambush him in a warm hug with it when he got out. Phil sat down on the bathmat while he got dried, and I fetched him some clothes from our bedroom. I figured he’d probably want to be in something comfortable, so a baggy hoodie was in order.

Phil and I headed to the kitchen to get breakfast, but as I sorted myself a bowl of cereal and  a coffee, Phil hung back. I knew that he wouldn’t be up for much, if anything at all, but I was going to encourage him to give something a shot. There’s always that stage in being ill when eating actually makes you feel better rather than worse.

“D’you want to try having something to eat?” I asked him, seeing his hesitancy.

“I don’t know,” like breakfast just seems to have been making me feel worse of recent.

“Right, let’s start with some tea,” I told him, flicking the kettle on, “That seemed to be fine last night. How about a couple of crackers? I find them okay when I’m not feeling too good.”

“Okay, I’ll have one and see,” Phil agreed.

When we both had our breakfast ready, we headed over to eat it at our dining table. Our routine and how we did things had changed a little with our new place, but we were beginning to adjust to things. I know that we sometimes might prefer having a lazy breakfast on the sofa, but we felt that sitting up straight was probably better for digestion, which mattered at times like this.

Phil left it at one cracker, and I respected his decision to not eat any more. I knew all about feeling too sick to eat, so I didn’t force him. The odd missed or small meal didn’t matter, but I’d learnt not to make it a routine.

Phil and I set off for the Doctor’s, me doing the driving and him sitting back and relaxing in the passenger seat. Phil had a bag in his pocket if things went downhill, but he didn’t seem too bad this morning. At least, he wasn’t feeling any worse.

It was weird sitting in the all-too-familiar doctor’s waiting room, but with the appointment being for Phil rather than myself. Phil was noticeably nervous, biting his lip and trembling a little in his seat. I moved my hand over to interlock our fingers and squeezed his hand supportively.

I was aware of a disapproving look from an older man at the other side of the room, but he quickly dropped it when I met his eye. What did he know? Phil could just be my friend who I was supporting through difficult times; we were at the doctor’s after all. It bothered me that there were homophobic people in the world, despite the laws of soulmates telling us that same-sex relationships were completely natural. It worried me that some people could be so homophobic that their children are scared of opening up to them; that was what was happening to Adam’s soulmate after all.

Phil rested his head on my shoulder and brought my mind back to the current situation. He was clearly tired, and I hoped this all went well so he could get home and rest. I turned my head slightly and gently pressed my lips to his forehead, a small action of intimacy, but also a silent ‘fuck you’ to the guy across the room.

I noticed my Doctor walk into the room. His eyes met with mine, and he glanced down at his clipboard in confusion.

“Phil Lester,” he called, after a moment.

Phil got to his feet, and I followed shortly after. As the Doctor saw both of us together, I saw realisation cross his face, “Ahh yes, I didn’t recognise the name at first, but I remember you from when you came in with Dan.”

Once in his room, the doctor pulled out two chairs for us to sit down. It would start as a consultation, but maybe once he’s spoken to Phil, he might examine him.

“So what can I help you with?” he asked, pointing the question at Phil.

“I’ve not been feeling too great recently,” Phil started, “For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been finding myself with a sore stomach after I eat, particularly after breakfast. Dan and I went out for dinner last night, and I spent most of the evening either umm… throwing up, and having a really sore stomach.”

“I was wondering if he was maybe allergic to something, and his mum agreed with me on that,” I told him, “But he hasn’t had rashes or sneezing or anything.”

“Okay,” the doctor nodded, making a couple of notes, “What do you eat last night?”

“Uhh, cheesy garlic bread, spaghetti carbonara and ice cream and a latte,” Phil replied.

“Right, I have an idea of what might be wrong,” the doctor said, “And what do you usually eat for breakfast?”

“A bowl of cereal, sometimes two, and a coffee,” Phil stated simply.

“Both with milk?” the doctor asked.

“Yeah,” Phil nodded blankly.

At the doctor’s mention of milk, I finally got onto the same wavelength as him… It was milk, wasn’t it?

“Okay, I’m not going to run any tests today, but it sounds like you’re lactose intolerant,” the doctor said to Phil, “We’ll set you up with another appointment for a week’s time. In the meantime, I’d like you to do your best to stick to a dairy free diet and see what difference it makes. If you feel completely better, then we have this figured out. If you’re still feeling dreadful in a day or two, come back in and we’ll have a further examination.”

“Does that mean a milk allergy?” Phil asked, “Like I can’t have anything with milk in it.”

“Not quite. Lactose is a sugar found in cow’s milk, and being intolerant to it means you are unable to digest it,” the doctor explains, “You’ll probably find that you can tolerate a certain amount, but what you ate last night was way over that. I’d recommend that you go and buy some lactose free milk, then you can still take your coffee and cereal and things more or less the way you like them.”

“Is there not a blood test you can do or something?” I asked, knowing that there were tests for most of these things, “Just to know for sure.”

“There’s not a blood test, at least in the way you’d imagine. It would require Phil to consume more lactose, which we’re not going to do because he’s already feeling unwell. If avoiding dairy is successful, then we won’t have to do that at all,” the doctor explained.

The doctor brought the appointment to a close, wishing us luck and telling Phil that he was to phone or come back in if he had any concerns. He left the room with us, to take us back to the reception and organise Phil’s follow-up appointment. Now that Phil’s appointment was over, he was free to ask how I was doing.

“How are you doing, Dan?” he asked, “I presume you’ve successfully switched back to your old medicine?”

“Yup, and I’m feeling a lot better as a result,” I told him, “Well, I still feel a bit anxious sometimes, but it’s not like it was.”

“Great,” he said, “And you’re still the eating disorder specialist and the mental health therapist?”

“Yes, but less,” I told him, “I’m down to an appointment every six weeks or so with the ED lady; just check-ups, they think I’m pretty much sorted or whatever, so they’re getting less frequent. As for the mental health, I’m seeing them too when I get a chance; I’ve been busy recently but I find it good to talk to someone other than Phil about my anxiety and body image, etcetera.”

“Sounds like you’re doing not badly then,” he concluded, as we reached the reception desk, “Right Phil, let’s get you an appointment sorted for next week.”

After the receptionist doing a little typing on the computer, she looked up, “How about next friday at two fifteen?”

“That should be fine,” Phil nodded, sounding a little hesitant, because he wasn’t completely sure what we’d be doing.

“Great,” she said, handing Phil a sheet with his appointment time.

Phil looked at the sheet, which showed an appointment with my doctor, the one he’d seen today.

“We’re keeping it with me as it’s a follow up appointment,” the doctor said, “But you’ll be back to your usual doctor next time presuming he’s available.

“Okay,” Phil nodded, “I guessed that was the case.”

As Phil and I left, I heard the doctor call out for his next patient. Phil let out a sigh and cuddled up to my side as we walked to the car.

As we stopped at the car, Phil turned into me and put his arms around me. For a second I was confused, until I heard a small sniffle and realised he needed comforting.

“S’okay,” I mumbled to him, bringing my hands up his back to hold him, “I know it’s hard to find this out, but you’re going to be okay.”

Phil’s sniffles turned into full blown sobs, and I could feel us attracting a little attention. Taking one hand off of Phil, I was able to open the door into the back seat.

“Let’s get in the back for the moment,” I said to Phil, giving him an encouraging nudge in the direction of the car.

I piled in close behind Phil, and shut the door after us. As soon as I was seated, he crawled into my lap and rested his head on my shoulder. I brought both my arms around Phil once more, holding him in a tight and loving embrace. For a little while he continued to cry on my shoulder, but it wasn’t long before he managed to pull himself together a little and turn the violent sobs back into soft sniffles.

“I’m sorry,” Phil mumbled, “I… it’s just a lot… I never thought… I love milk too.”

“At least you know what’s wrong now,” I said, rubbing my hand up and down his back, “I know it’ll take you time to adjust to this, but I’m here for you.”

“Thanks,” Phil said, sniffing, but sounding a little less sad.

“Do you want to head straight home or stop off to try and find this lactose free milk?” I asked him.

“Can we just go home?” Phil yawned, “I’m tired and we can just order it online later.”

“Yeah, of course,” I said, halting the back-rubbing, “I’ll go and get back in the front and drive us home; do you just want to stay back here?”

“No, I might get carsick if I stay in the back,” he said, “Especially as I’m feeling a bit weak stomached already.”

We got out of the back seat of the car, and into the front. I drove us home, feeling bad that Phil was sad and I couldn’t comfort him, but I had to keep some focus on the road. The stairs up to the flat used up Phil’s last little bit of energy, and he was trailing his feet as we entered our flat. I would’ve carried him, but I didn’t have nearly enough strength to do that.

Phil shed his hoodie and trousers and climbed into bed, without so much as an ‘I’m off for a nap.’ I sat by his side for a few minutes to keep him company as he went off to sleep, but then I got up as I had a list of things to do.

I took my laptop to the living room and loaded up the tesco website. Even if Phil wasn’t all that enthused about it, I was going to get my hands on some lactose free milk for him, as I knew the first time he wanted to have some cereal or a coffee, he would regret his decision.

In searching ‘lactose free’ in the search bar, I learnt that there were a whole host of lactose free products. I selected a few different types of milk for Phil to try: almond milk, goats’ milk, soya milk, and one just labelled as lacto-free.

I also saw lactose free yoghurt, chocolate milk, and a butter-like spread. I added all three of these to the basket, as it would probably take Phil a while to figure out what he could and couldn’t eat, and chocolate milk would surely make him happy. I tried to think of what Phil’s favourite snacks were that didn’t have milk. Popcorn seemed the obvious answer, being his all time favourite food. In looking at the ingredients, I discovered that some varieties seemed to contain milk, so I went for the ones that didn’t. Seven bags of popcorn may have seemed overboard to most, but then they didn’t know Phil. It would certainly cheer him up.

Realising I had a basket full of snack things that wouldn’t make a meal, I added a packet of raw chicken to the basket. We had eaten it yesterday, and I wasn’t quite sure what we’d do with it, but Phil was always full of cooking ideas. I suspected he would be well enough to eat by dinner, and I didn’t know what we had already that would be suitable. I selected the earliest delivery slot I could get, which was a couple of hours from now but would still be in time for lunch.

As I ordered the food delivery, a thought crossed my mind. I still hadn’t spoken to Phil’s mum about what we’d be having for Phil’s birthday dinner. In addition to me wanting to know for the sake of my mental health, I realised that there would likely be an issue with Phil’s newly diagnosed lactose intolerance. There was a fair chance there would be some kind of dairy in the meal, so I should probably let Phil’s mum know.

Remaining in the living room, so as not to wake Phil, I called his mum, with my question prepared. I knew she was going to ask me about how he was feeling, but I was going to put that off until after I’d asked about the food.

The phone rang, Phil’s mum answered, and I barely had the chance to say hello before she started bombarding me with questions about Phil, “How is he? Is he okay? Have you taken him to the doctor’s yet?”

“Yeah, he’s fine, we’ll get to that in a minute,” I interrupted her, “I was calling to ask you about Phil’s birthday dinner; I asked him what you’ll be cooking, but he didn’t know because it’s a secret. Could you tell me? Sorry it’s just I’d rather know if…”

“Of course that’s fine, just don’t tell Phil,” she cut me off, “It’s creamy chicken and asparagus pie. That’s okay, right? It’s all homemade and it’s low fat cream…”

“It sounds great, but there’s a slight issue…” I trailed off, thinking about my next few words.

“What?” she asked, sounding concerned.

“Phil,” I stated, “I said I’d get back to that… I took him to the doctor’s this morning and well… he’s lactose intolerant.”

“Oh,” a shocked noise left Phil’s mum’s mouth, “Oh gosh.”

She remained in stunned silence for a good thirty seconds before speaking again, “I guess it’s time for a menu replan then. No dairy at all?”

“Yeah, the doctor says he’ll probably be able to tolerate a little bit, but for the next week, he’s to avoid it as much as he possibly can and see how he feels,” I explained.

“Did the doctor do a test on him or something?” she asked.

“No, he said that although there are tests, that would need Phil to have some lactose and he  was already feeling ill,” I told her, recalling what the doctor had said, “And it all fits together, because Phil’s been getting bad stomach aches and whatever on and off for the last couple of weeks too.”

“Aww, I wish you’d told me that he wasn’t feeling too great then,” she complained, “But at least we know the heart of the problem now.”

“Phil didn’t want me to. At first, he was insisting that it was nothing to worry about. He thought it was just a side effect of being stressed about moving at first,” I explained, “He’d been feeling better since the move until last night. I think that would be because we didn’t go shopping and had no milk for a couple of days. But, yeah, I’m glad we know what the problem is now.”

“Alright, well I’d better go and plan a new menu,” she said, “I’ll call you back when I’ve decided on something new, but let Phil know it’s all under control. We don’t want him worrying about this on top of everything else.”

“Yeah, he’s having a nap at the moment, but I’ll let him know when he’s up,” I told her, “Thank you.”

I said goodbye to Phil’s mum and let her get on with her menu planning. I felt a little bad that she had to change it, but then there was nothing we could do. It was all just bad timing; these things happen.

Next on my list of things to do was to clean the bathroom. Phil had been ill, and I had to admit, it was a little disgusting. I’d used our second bathroom last night and this morning, but now that he was a little better, cleaning it would no longer be pointless.

I bleached the toilet, and leaved it to sit for a while. In the meantime, I decided to clean the other areas of the bathroom while I had the cleaning stuff out, even though they didn’t desperately need cleaned. After giving the bath, sink and mirror a quick clean, I returned to the toilet, now flushing it and using the toilet brush to finish off the job. I did a quick job with some disinfectant spray around the toilet, because although Phil wasn’t infectious, there was no harm in being careful.

Job done, I washed my hands and left the bathroom, which now smelt like lemons and chemicals, instead of the less-than-pleasant smell it had before. Phil was still fast asleep in our bed; I wondered when I should wake him up, but I decided I would leave it until nearer lunchtime. There was no reason to wake him up now; he would only be tired if I did that.

It was when the Tesco order arrived that Phil awoke. I took myself down the stairs to collect it from the delivery driver and I returned to find a confused-looking Phil in the hallway. He was wearing just a t-shirt and his underwear, his hair messed up in a style that was clear he was just out of bed.

“Tesco order,” I explained, pulling a carton of lactose free milk out the bag I was holding, “Got you some milk.”

“Ahh, I got woken by the buzzer and then I couldn’t figure out where you’d gone,” Phil explained, “Thanks for getting that though; I wasn’t really feeling like thinking about it earlier.”

“It’s no problem,” I told him, “You’re going to want a coffee sooner or later and I know you don’t really like it black.”

Phil laughed, looking noticeably better.

“You look better,” I told him, “How’re you feeling?”

“Not bad actually,” Phil told me, “Possibly even a little hungry though I’m not all too sure on that.”

“It’s about lunchtime,” I told him, “How about we go and have something to eat.”

While I made myself a sandwich for lunch, Phil didn’t want quite as much, so he had crackers spread with the new spread, and a slice of cold ham. He decided after eating it that he was happy to eat more, and followed it up with a banana and one of the yoghurts I’d just bought.

Phil finished his lunch with a smile on his face, “That wasn’t too bad. I feel a lot better now.”

Despite Phil feeling better, I still decided that he should take it fairly easy for the rest of the day. We did a bit of putting away and tidying, but spent most of the afternoon on the sofa together.

Phil and I made the dinner together, which might’ve been a first. He came up with an idea for the chicken in no time, and I was thankful for his creativity as it ended up tasting pretty fucking amazing. I don’t know how he did it - with a few herbs, some chicken stock, some flour and a splash of alcohol, he could make something downright delicious. Phil deserved to be a masterchef, rather than just a low-paid waiter, but even those with small beginnings can go far. I hoped Phil lived out his dream of being a fully fledged chef, and I was going to support him all the way, even if that meant eating the odd more unusual creation.

I spoke to Phil about his future plans after dinner, the thought fresh in my mind. He told that me that when he eventually opened his own restaurant, he planned to have the menu accessible for all. He was going to have several different portion sizes, both plainer and fancier options, low calorie alternatives, and most importantly, plenty of options for those with allergies or dairy or gluten intolerances. Phil’s eyes lit up when he spoke about this, and I could see his dream was building further. Someday, he would have it all planned out and I looked forward to the day where he put it into action and opened up his restaurant for the very first time.

I was excited for Phil, and felt myself starting to share his ambition. It was a thing with soulmates, that often one starts to feel the other’s ambition and excitement. I knew that I didn’t have much in the way of ambition yet, but that didn’t bother me. I was younger than Phil and still working out what I wanted to do with my life. I had an inkling that I might want to do something with video production, an interest that Phil and I shared, yet that was still only an idea that I didn’t know what to do with.

Phil would occasionally ask me what I was planning with my future, but all I could tell him at the moment was that I was going to try and get a part-time job soon. If I was going to have a future, I was going to have to fund it.

We spend a while snuggled up in bed together, before we went to sleep. Phil was still a bit more clingy and cuddly as a result of being ill, which I downright loved. He tried to claim that he was up for having sex, but I didn't believe him. It was clear from his cuddly nature that that was all he wanted to was curl up in my arms. Sex wasn't everything in a relationship, and I think Phil and I were a prime example of that. Yes, it was fucking amazing when we did do it, but that didn't need to be every night. As much as it made us sound like an old married couple, we were content with cuddles and sleeping in each other's arms.

Next chapter =>

Fitness is one of my goals for 2017. I’m not going to lie, it has been tough to get back on it. I used to be pretty sporty and then I just slowly lost the drive and passion. Like many (or maybe some), it is difficult to find the motivation after a couple of days into the new year. While I enjoy making goals for new years, I learned that it’s important to just go for it rather than wait for a fresh day, week, month etc.

TYPES OF EXERCISES

Figuring out what you like best to get fit is essential. It is so great that there are all sorts of exercises that you can give a go and then pick one up to establish as a routine. This may be tiresome and annoying. But keep your goal in mind and push yourself.

Hiking

Yoga

Gym

Outdoor

Cycling

Walking

Sports

I actually tried running outdoors around my neighbourhood recently and while it was fun getting lost, I did not enjoy the crazy humid weather. It was difficult to carry my phone too – I could get the arm strap but… Plus I don’t enjoy when there are lots of people around. This means I’d have to wake up super early to come back home in time to miss the going-to-work people. I’m definitely a gym kinda person and I really like seeing statistics in front of my eyes (like on the treadmill).

Hiking very quickly became something I thoroughly enjoyed when I was in the colder countries. The scenery, nature, animals are all so lovely. Being able to see so much of a city at once was beautiful. All of my hikes were all nice and steady, I didn’t even realise how far I had gone until it was time to turn back.

Yoga is another favourite of mine. I used to fear that I won’t enjoy it cause I’m so inflexible. I decided to try it in Uni and I loved it so much! I started doing Yoga with Adriene at home and it was amazing. I kind of took a long hiatus but I’m back on it again! She’s doing 31 Days of Yoga at the moment and I highly recommend it. Just start today.

ESSENTIALS

It can be painful when you’re just working out without anything to push you forward, push you to do just another set or lap. Little things will motivate you and make you feel good to begin your fitness routine and keep doing it.

Good pair of workout clothes

Comfortable pair of sports shoes

Favourite music

Interesting podcasts

I need music that I can lipsync to and choreograph a whole dance in my head. I probably won’t be able to listen to podcasts when I’m trying to run an extra 5 mins. But with music, I just have to think, “I’ll run until this song finishes” and repeat it until I’m really done. I’d suggest trying to set up a nice playlist instead of trying to skip each song until you get to the ones you want.

When you look good, you feel good too. It is no wonder that fitness clothes are all colourful and fancy. It is for nobody else but for you. However, you do not need super expensive ones but a good pair of shoes are super important. Your feet carries you so much when you are working out and they deserve the best.

THE REST

Quotes & sayings

Laying out your workout attire a day before

Join a community

I like visuals and maybe you do too. Have motivational sayings on your lock & home screens and every time you unlock your phone and you haven’t worked out for the day, you’d move it! With Instagram, it has become a lot easier to join a fitness community and help out each other. There’s also Pinterest to find routines. Start a fitness journey account and discover a lovely support group.

Good luck! x

How do you get motivated?

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Fitness Motivation Fitness is one of my goals for 2017. I'm not going to lie, it has been tough to get back on it.