Out Out Brief Candle

it's not just "worrying a lot" or one dramatic flashback scene. anxiety can be constant background noise, or it can hit in sudden physical waves, racing heart, nausea, feeling weirdly detached from your own body. PTSD is the nervous system staying on high alert long after the actual danger's gone. ask what the specific triggers and symptoms are before you write it, bc generalized anxiety and trauma-based PTSD work in genuinely different ways.

⤷ panic attacks are physical, not just emotional. chest tightness, dizziness, tingling hands, a feeling like you're dying or completely detached from reality. a character having one for the first few times might genuinely think something is medically wrong with them, not just "oh no i'm scared." it's not just breathing fast and looking spooked, it's the body convinced it's under attack.

⤷ triggers are rarely obvious or dramatic. a specific smell, a certain tone of voice, a particular time of day, fluorescent lighting. trauma responses often get triggered by mundane sensory details that seem to have nothing to do with the original event on the surface, and the character themselves might not even understand why they just shut down. don't limit your triggers to "seeing something that looks exactly like what happened," the brain makes connections that don't have to make sense to anyone watching from outside.

⤷ hypervigilance is exhausting and constant, not a dramatic beat. a character with PTSD might automatically scan every room for exits the second they walk in, sit facing the door out of habit, flinch at sudden movement or noise. this isn't them having A Moment, it's background behavior they've stopped even noticing themselves, bc it's just how their body operates now.

⤷ avoidance isn't cowardice, it's self-protection. a character refusing to talk about something, changing the subject, leaving the room, that's not necessarily weak-willed. avoidance is often the nervous system's own attempt to prevent a flashback or a panic response before it starts. writing forced confrontation as the only real path to healing is a common trope, but it's not actually how most healing works.

⤷ recovery isn't linear and doesn't end with one cathartic scene. a character can do real, genuine trauma work and still have a bad week months or even years later. writing healing as a single breakthrough moment after which the anxiety or PTSD is just "resolved" undersells how long and nonlinear this process actually is for most people, and honestly can make readers who are living through it feel like something's wrong with them for not being "fixed" already.

do the research, and if you can, read firsthand accounts from people who've actually lived through this rather than just other fiction that's already gotten it wrong.

⟢ The youngest member of the group gets sick and tries to hide it because they’re scared of being left behind, so everyone quietly adjusts the travel plan and pretends it was already decided.

⟢ The leader always eats last, and one day the newest member notices and puts food directly into their hands before anyone can argue.

⟢ The quiet one remembers everyone’s tiny preferences: who hates bitter tea, who needs silence after a fight, who sleeps badly near windows, who says they’re fine when they absolutely are not.

⟢ Someone gets injured and expects to be yelled at for slowing the group down, but instead the others start arguing over who gets to carry their bag. T

⟢ he group finds a safe place for one night, and nobody knows how to act because surviving together is easier than resting together.

⟢ The most reckless one gets grounded by the entire group like a misbehaving child, even though they are technically a full adult with weapons.

⟢ Someone accidentally calls the group “home” and immediately tries to correct themselves, but everyone heard it and nobody lets them forget.

This image captures the Tarantula Nebula in all of its cosmic glory. Astronomers study nebulae like this one to learn about how elements form and disperse throughout the galaxy, seeding space with planetary building blocks.

Clouds of dust and gas called nebulae speckle our galaxy. Some are ferocious cosmic factories that churn out baby stars by the hundreds of thousands, while others are grave markers of stars long dead. Astronomers study them to learn about how stars and planets form, and how ingredients are recycled in space.

But all that dust is difficult to see through, and nebulae are often so large that today’s most powerful space telescopes can only realistically study tiny patches of them. That’s where our soon-to-launch Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope comes in.

Alnitak, Alnilam, Mintaka

These three little paintings were created for my annual participation in a charity exhibition and sale organized by a non-profit organization supporting people struggling with addiction.

The exhibition and sale of these postcards, together with hundreds of works by other artists, will take place in November–December in Zaragoza, Spain.

And, as always, I absolutely love the idea behind this project: the artist’s name is not shown on the front of the postcard it appears only on the back. So when choosing a piece, you don’t know who created it. You simply choose the artwork that speaks to you ,with your heart, not by the artist’s name. 💙

I truly love participating in projects like this charity exhibitions, auctions and fundraisers where art can become something more than something beautiful.

Art should help.

Wonders of the Universe © Chandra

The Veil Nebula Unveiled

pick a normal name

google it "does this name mean anything weird in another language"

it means "goat disease" in Norwegian

start over