#never-in-my-life-would-I-have-believed-I'd-do-this
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rmfifthcircuit.bsky.social
We laid dad to rest on Friday. Here is the euology I gave.

Thanks to you all for giving somewhere to grieve in words. It's really helped.
Thank you for all coming today and being with us as we grieve my father, Hovsep Melkonian. When I was a boy in the suburbs of Washington D.C, and I had my first public speaking project in elementary school, I was nervous. After all, I’d just learned how to speak English, and I wasn’t sure how I could do it. My dad saw I was nervous, and told me in his distinctive voice, both formal and warm: “My Son; imagine the audience is all rows of plump red tomatoes.” And that’s what I did. And now, decades later, I often speak in public for a living, in Court, and I’m not nervous anymore. But on this day of all days, I look out in the rows of this lovely church and see nothing but tomatoes arrayed before me, many of you I’ve known all my life. I know many of you knew my dad well, so I thought I would tell you some things that perhaps only I know. Let me start with his love for his us, his children, and for his wife of 47 years, my mom Marie. Growing up in the 1980s, my dad was sometimes a stern and intimidating father, driven by his determination that we would take advantage of the incredible opportunity we had been given in America. But we never doubted for a moment his unconditional love for all of us, his absolute devotion to us and his willingness to do whatever we needed whenever we needed it. But even then, sometimes the joy and contentment he felt in his family life would peek through that exterior. Let me give you a small example. When we were small, my cousin Alex would visit us from Toronto for Christmas. And my dad would sneak away from Christmas Eve dinner, get dressed in the most amazing Santa Claus outfit, and then show up at the door with a bag of presents. And not just for my cousins and I, but for the neighbor’s kids as well. Those children, now middle-aged men like me, still remember those magical days. That inner core of love and happiness really flourished in his last ten years of retirement in Houston. For the past decade, I’ve watched him inte… than he thought a European with the same qualifications would have gotten. It wasn’t about money. It was about the equal dignity that he believed every person had no matter where he was from and what nationality they were. My mom says she was terrified that our dream of America had been turned down. But the next day, a note arrived from the World Bank. He was right. He’d been given a raise. And finally, my dad could say yes. We came to Washington, and America fulfilled every promise to us and to him that it had made. A second story, my dad told me two years ago. As many of you know, my dad went to college in India. He found a scholarship to the university of Bombay from the Armenian community there, he bought a suit from the local undertaker, and left his family to India, to a place he had never been to study in a language he barely knew. He succeeded there. And one day, he went with an Indian friend to take a swim at a resort hotel run by the British. They wouldn’t let them in. Not because of my dad, but because of his friend’s skin color. My dad made such a stink that the American football player, the Hall of Famer Jim Brown came out of the hotel to find out what was going on, and eventually helped get my dad’s friend into the pool. I know that’s hard to believe. I didn’t believe it. But I found an article in a newspaper saying that Brown was in Bombay at exactly that time at exactly that hotel shooting a movie. That’s the kind of man my dad was. A man who the extraordinary just sort of happened around. Finally, my dad was a true scholar, a man of great and deep learning. Many of you know he was a principal of an Armenian day school in Beirut. Some of his students I understand are here today. When I was a boy, my dad’s devotion to his Armenian faith and to our ancient language led him to volunteer his time for years at the Armenian Sunday School in suburban Maryland. But in his retirement especially, he devoted his time to thinking and writing and …
December 14, 2025 at 8:11 PM
recoverypartners.bsky.social
Our lovely volunteer Rhiannon has shared some reflections with us on setting goals and looking to the future.

#RecoveryPartners #recovery #mentalillness #mentalhealth #peersupport #mentalhealthawareness #mentalhealthrecovery #mentalillnessawareness
An orange background with a graphic of two women sat chatting in the bottom right corner. Title text reads, '"Where do you see yourself in 5 years?"'. The main body of the text reads, 'My therapist asked this question with curiosity and enthusiasm, with which I didn't quite know how to respond. I had goals, but I'd never named them as something I actually planned to achieve. I was so unpredictable with mood swings that the next hour could have me spiralling downwards and nothing would stop me. I had it in my head that relapsing was just a part of my life that I would get used to. When I think about that judgment now, in this moment, it makes me sad. Not sad because it's basically been how my life has gone so far, but because I believed it would never change and I had lost the hope of recovering someday. I tried to bring myself back to the moment. I was getting stuck in my head, going around in circles.' An orange background with a graphic of a flower in the bottom right corner. Text that reads, '"5 years?" I sighed and shifted in my seat as I prepared to make up a whole story of being discharged from mental health services, living independently, managing bills and finances, being in a healthy relationship and having positive friendships. That moment passed through my head, and a tear trickled down my cheek. I hadn't answered yet, but the thoughts got me going deeper and deeper as we sat in silence. "I think I'd just like to be better than I am now. I'd like to feel like I'm giving my all in life, trying my hardest and building a strong foundation for my future. I guess I would like to see myself mentally stronger and stable without a cycle of relapsing. I want to break the cycle and maintain good mental health." That moment changed how I viewed my future. I didn't need things that money could buy. I just wanted to feel I was doing enough to support myself in my recovery journey. The cycle needed to change. A new direction. A new focus. A strong grip on the life I wanted and a determination and drive that I couldn't let go of. ' : An orange background with graphics of flowers and a butterfly in the top right corner and flowers in the bottom right corner. Title text reads, '*5 years later*'. The main body of text reads, 'I'm sitting in my one-bedroom house, aged 30. I feel loved, supported and stable. Not the kind of stable where I'm just surviving each day. No, I'm actually living my life. I'm thriving! I'm engaged to the love of my life. I have strong friendships and no longer seek validation for every decision I make in life. I actually achieved 5-years risk-free today too. And I am celebrating with a trip to London over the new year of 2031 to experience watching the fireworks as the year moves to the next and the clock strikes midnight. I am working now since I got my qualification in community mental health and psychiatry and my psychology diploma, but still also enjoy blogging and sharing my writing with charities that can reach so many people who relate to what I’ve gone through and just need that little bit of hope and proof that life can get better. "I’m ready!" I tell myself internally. I say it firmly as if I am commanding that there is no backing out of it... no other option. You’ve got this! Let’s see what 5 years bring!'
December 1, 2025 at 10:01 AM
sunburst.at.app.wafrn.net
The worst part about this job is waking up early #never-in-my-life-would-I-have-believed-I'd-do-this #ghhhggh #so-tired
September 9, 2025 at 10:42 AM
runehallow.bsky.social
adra's vows btw (we exchanged them during the ceremony)
Honestly, I never thought I'd have a day like this. I especially never thought it would be with the man who ambushed me one night in the middle of the forest. I truly believed, maybe foolishly, that we would complete our mission together and then go our separate ways. Of course, I'm grateful beyond measure that I was wrong. I've been so grateful every day, in fact, since you decided to settle into my life. Since you declared that you would stay, whether I liked it or not. And no matter how much I've fussed and grumbled since then, I liked it. I loved it. I love *you*. Thank you for being there for me. For taking care of me, even when I didn't want you to do it. For carrying me home when I'm too tired to walk. For staying with me when I'm too sick to stand. For reading to me when I can't hold a book - or when I just want to listen to you talk. I promise to protect you as you protect me. To cherish your heart as you've cherished mine. And to carry you as you've carried me - in my spirit, if not necessarily in my hands. For the rest of my life, I promise.
June 22, 2025 at 7:19 PM
msfrostfeathers.bsky.social
I'm determined to rip off the bandaid of this 87.5k word SnowCrow fic I've been working on for 3 months.

It'll be on AO3 by the end of the year, because if I keep poking at it looking for mistakes I'll never put it out. For now, here's the first little bit...

#LoveandDeepspace #SnowCrow
“S-Skye? What, ahh… what a surprise to see you….” I'd known for a while that Sylus had a habit of keeping tabs on me. My life was dangerous, given my job as a Deepspace Hunter that had me constantly leaping head first into danger fighting wanderers, so that didn't surprise me. Sometimes I even appreciated knowing someone watching out for me, though I had enough pride to never tell him that. Still, this was my day off and I knew HE knew that. It was also strange to see this normally nocturnal man out and about at this time of day, outside the N109 zone's eternal night to enter Linkon City proper, where Sylus the Leader of notorious criminal organization Onychinus becomes Skye, the humble Fruit Seller. Even so, under normal circumstances it might not have bothered me to “accidentally” run into him. However, the reason why I was using every single ounce of self-control to try to suppress the full wild spectrum emotions racing through my mind right now was Zayne’s calm and composed presence standing just a few feet away. “Mmm yes,” Sylus/Skye hummed as a knowing smile curled at the corner of his lips. “A very pleasant surprise…” I glanced out of the corner of my eyes at Zayne. His back was turned, so all I could see was his long brown brown coat hanging crisply over his shoulders. He was completely engrossed the day’s macaron selection in the desert counter. He took his sweets and deserts VERY seriously, and so far he didn't seem to have noticed the very tall silver haired man striking up a conversation with me. I did my best to regain composure. “It’s my day off today,” I managed to say “I've been busy… VERY busy.” I stared daggers at Sylus, too close to Zayne to be able to say what I was thinking: What are you doing here? Sylus towered over me; he seemed to be doing his best not to actively loom, though with his size that was difficult not to do.  He raised an eyebrow, still smiling, “Of course. With your line of work, it’s important to enjoy yourself when you can,” he paused, gesturing with his chin in Zayne's direction for emphasis, “and I see you've got company.” "Yes, I do," I repeated forcefully, "I DO have company." I had really hoped Zayne was still too preoccupied with weighing his choice between the 27 macaron flavors available that day to notice the large and imposing figure chatting and totally-not-looming over me. However, I heard a familiar whisper-tone voice call my name, and I turned to see his green eyes locked onto me… and on Sylus. He raised his eyebrows slightly, “Is this man a… friend of yours?” My heart skipped a beat. There had definitely been a small flash of something in Zayne question, emphasizing the word "friend" as if it were an accusation. I knew that Zayne sometimes had a protective, even jealous side, but I hoped that maybe, just this once, I was imagining things. In spite of how long we had known each other Zayne was sometimes hard to read, even though I’d gotten better at discerning all of his subtle tells and micro expressions over the years. We were close as kids, though I'd lost touch with him for a while when his family moved away. Once we reconnected about a year ago we seemed to fall comfortably back into place, even if it was simply a doctor and patient relationship at first.  I’d always been drawn to Zayne, even before I fully acknowledged to myself exactly why, and after many months of pining, playful teasing and flirtation, I'd finally managed to break through his shell and build a different kind of relationship with him. I probably still might have stayed in that slow burn equilibrium forever, cursed to tease and flirt with an iceberg as it slowly melted, until Zayne and I had shared an uncharacteristically passionate night (or so I h… He hadn't been the only one who had attracted my attention - and vice versa. If he had, perhaps none of this would have happened. I had known for a while that I needed to make a choice between them if things grew too serious. I HAD to. Both of them had come into my live at a time when I needed someone exactly like them, each for completely different reasons. I might have even called it fate, if I believed in such things. While Sylus was wild, passionate and exciting, Zayne was safe, consistent, and dependable. Sylus’s strength was like a warm rolling fire, while Zayne’s was a mountain. But I knew I couldn’t simply keep both of them, could I? I had kept putting things off, hoping one or the other would grow tired of me and make the decision for me but as time went by, the fires lit between me and each of these unique and passionate men had only grown. Things had gone too far NOT to choose.  To do otherwise would have been greedy, I had quietly told myself so many times. Selfish and greedy.  I’d had the conversation already with Sylus, barely two weeks ago, when the ache in my stomach and the guilt and self doubt in my head had finally overwhelmed me with voices screaming that I couldn’t continue to allow these two men to keep chasing me. This was wrong. I HAD to make a choice. “Sylus, I’m sorry, I…” He had tried to kept his composure through the entire agonizing conversation - my confession, really - but the look on his face had betrayed him. It was one of agony and loneliness, defiance beaten down by inevitability, the loss of something priceless, and of something he’d longed for that some part of him told him he shouldn’t have and didn't deserve. It had turned me inside out to see it, knowing I was the one who did that to him by putting this off for so long. He’d sat quietly for a long while, clearly trying to compose himself and choose his words carefully, not wanting to lash out in pain or frustration and hurt me, even while his heart was breaking.  I had be… “Sylus…” He turned to look at me with an expression full of concern and love and so much pain. He forced a smile while he put his hand on my cheek, his thumb lightly stroking my cheekbone, like he had expected something like this was coming eventually.. “It’s OK… At least I know you’ll be safe. And… happy.”  He paused, and his hand slid off my face to gently rest on my forearm. His eyes followed where his fingers lightly touched my skin as if they might not get the chance to do so again. “Does this mean you… won’t come see me anymore?” I shook my head. “No! No, I… Sylus, I’m not going to just disappear. You know I couldn’t…” “Because of the link?” He raised a single eyebrow at me. “That’s not what I meant.” He shook his head. “You know I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to, sweetie. You’ve always been able to make your own choice. I just thought, maybe…” he trailed off, letting whatever hope he’d held onto die in his throat. “I still care about you, Sylus. I just can’t-” He interrupted me with a sardonic chuckle. “Do you?” It had slapped me across the face, though judging by his reaction it had hit far harder than he’d meant it to. “Sylus, I have to choose.” I looked down at my clasped hands, warm and sweaty in my lap. “I care for you both, genuinely, but this has gone too far,and I just CAN’T… I can’t be that greedy…” He raised an eyebrow at that. He cocked his head to one side and shifted in his chair, looking at and into me with burning red eyes. “What do you mean?”
December 21, 2025 at 9:29 PM