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ittybittydragonfox · 4 years

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Mental Illness is Not Psychic Power

That’s a doozy of a title, ain’t it? But it’s true, and it reflects the lies I was told by my earth-and-spirit-loving pagan and witch communities growing up. For those that don’t know, I’m a lifelong witch of 25 years from a generational family that’s been practicing witchcraft for 200 years. My parents are also pagans. My father is a legal, ordained High Priest.

And despite all that spiritual education, I still grew up hearing these two phrases: “Mental illness doesn’t exist. All you need is to connect with nature and your spirituality.” “You’re not mentally ill, you’re psychic!”

Sounds a lot like “You’re a wizard, Harry!” And just like Harry Potter is a pile of fiction, so are these statements. Let’s talk about it.

I don’t talk about my personal demons too much, but I suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID). These two things combined have resulted in two very real symptoms that the pagan and witch communities like to attribute to psychic awareness: hallucinations (”Visions”) and erratic, unpredictable, sometimes strange behavior that is complete uncharacteristic of me (”Channeling”). Those that live with me (my partner and, in the past and near future, roommates) have gotten to see me do some truly odd things in an attempt to hide my illness, but the things I do when I can’t hide it anymore are even more strange. I’ve hidden in sheds in my pajamas in -20 F weather because I thought my hallucinations couldn’t follow me there. I’ve spoken in a heavy accent from a country I’ve never been to. I don’t answer to my name. I ask people I’ve known for years, in homes I’ve lived in for months “who are you and where am I?”

Growing up, I showed a lot of these odd symptoms. I do have psychic abilities, and so, when I started hallucinating at the age of 14, my parents wanted to believe my Sight/Clairvoyance was just showing me “new things”. But the fact was, my PTSD had been so bad, and untreated for so long, that I was seeing things that truly weren’t there. These are not spirits. They are my fears incarnated into visuals and sounds. The more terrified I became, the more my pagan parents, our churches, and covens would tell me that “everything is alright. These are just spirits. You know how to banish spirits. We’ll help banish them. You’re just getting more powerful. You’re just becoming more aware.” And no matter what I did, no matter how powerful the High Priest/ess in my church, no matter how in-tune the witch in my circle was, they could neither sense these spirits, nor banish them. They assumed that because my psychic senses are overdeveloped anyway, I was seeing something invisible even to most powerful psychics. The truth was, I was just a frightened child being followed around by a grinning, white monster created by my own mind specifically to scare me. And the constant sound of doors being slammed or dogs growling that only I could hear was keeping me awake every night and ruining my straight-A performance in school.

I’ve had DID since childhood, and my parents were used to my erratic, uncharacteristic behavior. They shrugged off my not answering to my name, and my friends seemed to just accept that I called myself by 20 different names. The truth was, I was dissociating, and an alter had taken my place. And no, I couldn’t control it. I still struggle with control. DID is not something I get a choice in. It’s not fun and it makes my life extremely difficult. I don’t enjoy waking up after 3 days to find that my friends have been trying to call me, I didn’t attend my doctor’s appointments, and I may have done any number of things, none of which I can remember. And that’s if I get lucky and wake up at home. My pagan and witch communities believed I was channeling, because I am a spirit worker, and they believed I was one of the best at it, save for the fact that I couldn’t control it. They believed when they spoke to me as my child alter, that they were speaking to the Young God, or a child spirit, through me. But they weren’t, and they refused to believe otherwise. They never questioned that they were talking to God or a fairy or what have you.

This comes from a misguided belief that mental illness isn’t real. Or that it can be treated with some herbs and yoga. Because of this, I spent 10 years struggling with my mental illness untreated. Everywhere I went, people looked at me as something to Be. “A powerful psychic who sees into a whole other world.” They viewed me as dramatic or gatekeep-y when I said I wouldn’t want others to have this “power” or that I wouldn’t teach them to see. But the fact is, I was incapable of teaching anyone anything about these skills. Because I didn’t have them. I had a mental illness, and my brain was rebelling against me.

This absolute denial that mental illness exists leads to people attributing illness with power. It’s not healthy, and it leads to a really harmful culture where people with mental illness can’t see that they need help, and they don’t get the help they need. Often times we end up with people with illnesses leading groups, sometimes working with the “visions” (hallucinations) they’re having. Or worse, we end up with this toxic idea that taking the medicine someone might need is hindering their awareness, which is some ableist bullshit I still fight with all the time in psychic circles.

I’m not saying that clairsenses don’t exist. I have them, and I believe in them, but there must also be a balance of discernment in the pagan and witch communities. We have to learn to accept the science: The brain is an organ, and it can malfunction just like any other organ can. Mental illness is an illness, and it often needs the help of doctors and therapists to treat it. Loving ourselves and building a better community means it’s time to examine this ableist bias, and do what’s right, so that we stop passing these gross ideas down to the next generation of magic-inclined folx.

My psychic community meant well, but in their effort to erase illness, they made me sicker and used that sickness as a reason to both uplift me and spite me. They gave me undue praise and anger for a thing I can no more control than someone else can control their diabetes. And worst of all, they blinded my family into not getting me help before these illnesses very nearly took my life. My parents almost lost their son to the depression that comes with PTSD. And it took them almost losing my sister too for them to understand that while we may have psychic abilities, we are also sick, and we need help. My parents have since become an active part of my and my sisters’ recoveries. They support us, where once they had been afraid of us losing something if we took these steps, and do their bests to uplift us. We’re both better. Neither of us want to die anymore. I’m on anti-psychotics and an anti-depressant now. I still have hallucinations but they are manageable. I’m in talk therapy, and I’ve learned how to decipher what’s the difference between me seeing a spirit, and me hallucinating. I still do spirit work, but I understand that my alters are not spirits possessing me. They are fragments of my mind, and I am reflected in them. I’m learning to come to terms with that and trying to go through integration. It’s a long road. I still see spirits. My medicine did not take that from me. I still talk to deities. My medicine didn’t take that away either. But my medicine does help me approach them without fear, and with certainty that they are real, and not a figment of my ill mind. And because of that, I can have a meaningful, fulfilling relationship with spirits and deities, built on trust and love instead of the innate fear of “not knowing”.

So for anyone out there who needs to hear it, because it’s important: You are not a failure in your faith or spirituality because you realized you are ill and sought help. Taking care of your mind does not make it, or you, weaker. Let’s change the narrative, and learn as a community that seeking help is how we grow stronger.

Jake

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lifecounselingorlando · 3 years

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Marriage Counseling Orlando and Relationships

Marriage counseling Orlando, seeks to look at systems of communication and patterns that have been going on for several years that no longer are effective or is causing increased conflict and discord. These systems over time tend to continue and play out in relationships causing more and more anger and frustration. Marriage Counseling in Edgewood is very beneficial. What Marriage Counseling Orlando is Not: A place to embarrass the other partner in an attempt to get the therapist to “take sides”. Geared toward the story line but rather the patterns that continue to repeat. Rehashing old stories that felt painful does not help to move forward. An opportunity to get a professional to “back you up” and say that you are right and the other partner is wrong. Both are equally part of the problems and the solutions. Marriage Counseling Orlando Counseling for couples is about restoring balance, both partners feeling appreciated and validated. Listening and seeing how each other can not only improve the relationship but improve themselves as a whole. All too often a couple has forgotten to get back to the basics of what attracted them in the first place. They are caught up in the blame game that seems to go nowhere. As your therapist it is my job to help each couple take ownership and responsibility for their part in the issues that brought them to therapy. To work towards learning healthy patterns of communication so each feel appreciated, heard and validated. Marriage Counseling Orlando and the Baggage We Bring In Adults bring years of their own experiences from past relationships. Family of origin issues and their own belief systems about relationships. With these expectations they try force their opinions on the other and change that person. They have set unrealistic expectations on their partner and/or themselves. They find they are disappointed, anxious, angry and distraught when these expectations are not met. Rediscovering each other for the first time is key to learning a new method of reengaging in the relationship. This builds a strong and lasting bond. Most couples, similar to family counseling rarely come into therapy both highly motivated and ready to work on improving their relationship. One is felt dragged into session. It becomes a last ditch effort to save the marriage. It’s important for me to remember that much like family therapy, I am looking at systems of communication and patterns that have been going on for several years. The patterns that no longer are effective or never were in the first place. Marriage Counseling Orlando - Individual and Together Some therapists want to meet individually with the clients and then have them together at certain times throughout therapy. I believe the best work with couples is done with both involved and present at the first session. There are the exceptions of course. Signs of emotional, physical or verbal abuse from the other partner. Also if one of the partners is dealing with deep wounds from the past and are unable to move ahead without individual therapy to work on past family of origin issues. These issues do not relate to the present relationship but are affecting it.

#Marriage Counseling Orlando

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dadolorian · 4 years

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Just like me- Part 2

A/N: Some Light Angst because i am an Angst WHORE Credits: Thank you @oloreaa for being my Beta reader/editor !

Title: Just Like me Fandom: Prospect (2018) Ship: Ezra/Reader Warning: Reader is an Amputee, talk of injuries/recovering. Hinted PTSD. Arguments. Canonical death mentioned. Angst? Word count: 5K + (Ahhhh this one is almost double the last one in length but there was nowhere to stop) Master List Request status AO3 Link Previous part Next part - coming soon

True to his word, Ezra was quick to find you again, an enthusiastic man you had come to notice as he was knocking at your door the next morning. He had that big, charming smile plastered on his face and apparently had been eagerly awaiting an appropriate time to come seek you out. The second he had finished his morning meal with ‘Cee’ he had excused himself to come find you he later informed you. You hummed happily, inviting him into your quarters, delighted by his eagerness, for you mirrored his enthusiasm. From that point on he had integrated himself as a permanent part of your routine on the journey home.

Unless one of you was busy, you could be found together somewhere on the ship. Most of the time it was in your quarters, but that didn’t stop the two of you venturing out to the observation deck, the mess hall or any small alcove along the many hallways so you could wrack each other’s brain. Most of your conversations were sharing your opinions on the books you started to read together, laughing as he would use his way with words and expressive vocabulary to add and improve upon the work, something he said he was inspired to do from his ‘Little Bird’. He on the other hand enjoyed listening to your ideas and the way you interpreted the pieces, thoroughly enjoying listening to you as you tried to explain what you believed certain things meant. And just as you had offered, you helped him with dealing with his amputation. During your first few days getting to know one another you explained different prosthetics, and helped him narrow down his choices based on his needs, for when the time came. He wanted something advanced enough to allow him individual movement of his fingers rather than a basic one that would only clench all of them, something that allowed him more control and finesse. You steered him in the direction of a limb similar to your own, something vacuum sealed that would allow him to wear it without the need for too many straps. “You truly have made this process far less daunting,” he had told you as he took messy notes with his left hand and flashing you that smile once more. He began to subject you to many annoying arm puns, his vocabulary resulting in some of the most creative and long winded puns you had ever heard. You wanted to smack him each time you saw that shit eating grin but you just couldn’t stay annoyed at him for long. ‘Keeva,’ you thought ‘Is this what it's like when I do it too?’

While you weren’t as skilled at such creative language, you had experience on your side, giving him simple but classical leg puns quickly in return. His boisterous laugh each time warming your heart.

His little notebook was soon filled with all the advice you had given him on keeping his stump healthy, and one evening, just a few weeks after you had met he even trusted you enough to begin speaking about his nightmares with you. It was clear he showed a tremendous amount of trust in you at that point already, as he bore his deepest fears to you and allowed himself to be so vulnerable in your presence.

You had sat by his side on your bunk, stroking his back in comfort as he trembled and confessed what was haunting him. In return, you began to share the more personal stories of your recovery, telling him of painful therapies, numerous surgeries and horrifying nights alone in the hospital. He was able to provide you with your own comfort you had been denied for so long.

From breakfast till nightfall, every day for months you two were in each other's company, conversations with Ezra were far from boring, but as the two of you grew closer you both felt comfortable enough with each other to not constantly fill the silence. The day the two of you spent just sitting in your bunk each reading a book in complete silence together was the day you felt like you could truly call him a friend, not just someone you knew. He had even introduced you to Cee, his ‘little bird’ he had mentioned when you had first met, she was weary of you at first, not that you blamed her after everything she had gone through. But you made a genuine effort to gain her trust, and you weren’t close, but she began to relax around you during your short interactions. Ezra told you he had made it his personal goal to make sure Cee would be taken care of now that she was orphaned, when he first started to trust you more he had explained to you the full tale of how they met. Curled up on your bed, side by side, he expressed deep sorrow in being the reason Cee was now an orphan as well as some hidden resentment towards her father for what he had attempted to do to him, but more importantly, the life he had forced Cee into. You listened to Ezra rant on about how Cee should never have been taken to the Green. How a child her age should not have been forced into the life of a prospector. You could see quite clearly that Ezra had a connection with her, he cared for her and wanted to do right by her. That just endeared him to you more. The contrast between a hardened, cynical prospector and a soft, genuine man made him seem more human to you than any other person you had met.

He was the complete opposite of you, in terms of affection, he did nothing to hide his thoughts and admiration of you, even from the start, constantly complimenting you and making any excuse to touch you. He was always watching for any sign that it was unwelcomed, and he did nothing to hide his adoring smiles when they weren't. You on the other hand weren’t quite as expressive as him, you wished you had the confidence he seemed to have, because you wanted so desperately to return all his affections, his compliments, his casual touches. He would casually brush some hair from your face and you wanted to lean into his touch, to feel the warmth of his hand on your cheek. When the two of you sat together, curled up on your bunk as you often were, one of you reading out loud from one of your precious books, you wanted to rest your head on his shoulder and embrace him. He would casually put his arm around you as you walked, you wanted nothing more than to lean into him and wrap your own arm around him in return. But no, every time he spouted beautiful monologues complimenting you,admiring you, praising your mere existence to the heavens you kept quiet, somehow convincing yourself Ezra was just being nice.

It was amazing and terrifying just how important he had become to you in just a few short months. Your feelings were an uncomfortable cocktail in your stomach, you were wanting to bridge whatever gap was between the two of you and become something more, but were fearing the risk of losing the friendship you had. And a cynical, depressing, part of your mind wanted to push him away, knowing deep down once you departed the ship you would lose everything regardless. It was some desperate attempt to shield yourself from the pain that was to come.

But as he spoke about some other thought that had escaped his beautiful mind you pushed those ideas away, burying them deep so you could enjoy your time with him and deal with them later. It was not something you would be able to keep up forever.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A week before you were scheduled to land back on central, you were curled up with him on your bunk as usual, his one arm around you, leaning back against the wall with a content smile and his eyes closed as he listened to you read aloud. You were lost in thought, reading the words aloud on instinct, not really paying attention to the words you spoke as you thought. You had been avoiding it for a while, but now, a week until you landed, you were finding it increasingly impossible to distract yourself from what plagued your mind. You had never kept up a friendship or relationship at all once you parted ways with someone. You did not have his affinity for words, you couldn’t just ask or communicate your thoughts the way he could, so you continued to push it away. You had a tendency to do so, that was why it took you so long to properly deal with your own recovery, it took wanting to help him for you to accept that. And had picked up on it, he truly was an observant man because he always noticed when you were trapped in your own mind, overthinking every little thing when something was bothering you. Even as you read aloud, he noticed it. “Angel?” He asked, a pet name he had taken to calling you after he joked for the umptheenth time that you were Heavensent. “What is plaguing that extraordinary mind of yours?” He asked, opening his eyes to look at you, brow quirked in question. You glanced at him. “Nothing,” you lied, trying to be nonchalant, giving him a one shouldered shrug, to which he huffed. “Please, do not attempt to lie to me like that,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you in suspicion. “We have far established that I can tell when something is bothering you. You are usually so expressive when you read to me, a fact I thoroughly enjoy as I listen to your angelic voice." He paused, brows burrowing, looking at you.

"You are distracted and monotonous as you speak Angel, something is troubling you."

His voice softened until it was barely above a whisper, "You are nothing if not patient and understanding with me in aiding me in my troubles. Please grant me the same trust I do to you?” He had a point, he trusted you in telling you of his nightmares, trusted you at his most vulnerable, surely you could do him the same courtesy? You sighed, trying to think of a way to best express your thoughts into something he could understand. “We land in a week,” you started, crossing your arms in self comfort, and he simply looked at you, cocked his head, unable to see what was so significant about that fact. You continued when he didn’t say anything. “I have never maintained any sort of relationship once I have parted ways with someone. I have never run into the same partner again, or managed to keep a friendship once I have left. I’m too much of a drifter.” A soft, understanding smile drifted across his face. “And you fear we will drift apart once we are done with our endeavors?” he asked, giving your shoulder a gentle and affectionate pat. You nodded slowly, avoiding his gaze. “There is a simple fix to that, Angel, we must simply keep in touch once we depart!” he said cheerfully, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. “I would love for it to be that simple, Ezra.” You sighed “But once we land I'm going to look for work as soon as possible. I’ll take the next sling out to whatever planet I can find to continue prospecting. I’ve been so desperate to get back on my feet, literally, that I'm not even going to stick around central to enjoy my spoils from this job.” He thought about that for a moment. “I suppose I do not blame you for that,” he said, rubbing his patchy beard for a second in further thought. “I am certain when the time comes for me I will be finding myself in the same position. But, we can try to keep in contact!” His optimistic and playful smile trying to ease your anxieties. “Once we land I will be making my way with Little Bird and finding a home. Get all the legal stuff sorted, and get her into a school. Keeva knows she has no desire to stay stuck in the life of a prospector and I am not inclined to force her. We can arrange for a means of communication between us before you leave again,” he said, removing his hold on you to give you a comforting pat on the knee. You gave him a skeptical look. “You? Setting down roots?” You asked skeptically, not believing it for a second. He was more of a drifter at heart than you were, you knew for a fact he had no desire to settle yet and wanted to get back to exploring the galaxy as soon as possible. “I’m afraid so.” He sighed, a sad but hopeful, wistful look in his eyes. “There is no way any sort of sane official will let me become Little Birds legal guardian without a stable home. I am not connected to her by blood after all and I have no rights to drag her over the galaxy for my own dreams as her biological father felt the need to." He sighed again at that, gaze becoming far away, a small frown settling on his face. "She will be happier with the chance to settle down and experience a normal life, I intend to give her that.” “Thats…incredibly selfless of you, Ezra” you mumbled, once again endeared to his soft nature he kept hidden under the hardened exterior he often tried to convey. “It’s… The right thing to do,” he said, shoulder slumped. “I am the reason she is without a father after all, I can't just abandon her to the mercies of the universe after what I took.” “Please tell me you aren’t doing this out of guilt?” you asked clanging back at him with a small frown. “Taking care of her as some penance what happened on the Green is not the only way you can do right by her-” “I know that!” He interrupted, hand held palm up to stop you. “I am not doing this as some form of self inflicted ‘punishment’. I have been having many serious conversations with the Little Bird when I retire from your company each night,” he explained pinching the bridge of his nose as he revealed his plans. “Our original plan was to track down some distant relative, or put her into government care but neither of us were satisfied with those bleak options. I have grown close to her, she is a remarkable child and i want to make sure she is taken care of, given the best life she can possibly get." He took a deep breath, looking distressed. "She will not get that from some government official, or some strange family member she has never even met before, who takes her in simply from biological obligation. Someone who holds no love in their heart for such an amazing child. Who would possibly have any desire to be raised by that?"

Ezra looked at you, expression earnest. "I am taking this upon myself, because I want to. I resent any notion of not seeing her again, just as I hold in my heart the fear of not being able to see you again either.” Your heart melted at his words. “Ezra,” you sighed, leaning forward on the bunk. “I can’t make any promises, you and I both know prospecting isn’t a lifestyle that allows long term relationships to last….” “Then I shall make it my goal to keep in contact with you!” he said, optimism clear in his voice and sparkling in his soft eyes. “I’ll send out transmissions every single night to you if i have to to keep our friendship kindled! Just to keep some semblance of you in my life, and I in yours.” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, that will keep up for what? Six months before you get bored?. Until someone more interesting comes around and i become an afterthought in your day-” “Angel, just where are you getting these thoughts?” he interrupted, shaking his head. “How could you possibly think I would forget about you for even a second? My thoughts have been consumed by you from the moment we met!” He got closer, but did not touch you, hand clenching in obvious frustration. “Experience, Ezra,” you sighed, pushing yourself away from him a little. You had not intended to start an argument, but you wanted him to understand that once you parted ways, you had little hope for what was between you to continue. The annoying, toxic little thoughts that had been creeping in the back of your mind for a while started spilling out. You had learnt the hard way that your life would not allow for something so permanent. When you had met him and offered your ear, your help, you did not believe it would extend past landing in Central. You hoped to give him enough help until he could find permanent support. But you became enthralled by him, your friendship had blossomed into something you would cherish for a lifetime, something you knew could not be maintained and fall apart just like every other relationship you had ever had. “Then let’s experience something better!” He pleaded. “I am more than willing to put in the effort to keep in contact with you! Whatever it takes, Angel, I'll do it!” Desperation clung to his words, his brows furrowed as he looked at you, jaw working, visibly holding back on his words. “Your optimism is just going to get you hurt,Ezra,” you sneered, “I should have brought this up weeks ago, before we got so close-” He cut you off. “You wish to have cut our friendship off before we became close? Angel, I would not have allowed such a thing-” You got up off the bunk in an annoyed huff, away from him, he just didn’t get it. “Do you really believe it could work, Ezra?” You asked him with an exasperated sigh, gesturing at the distance between the two of you. ”Have you ever been able to successfully maintain a relationship of any kind once you said your goodbyes?” His brow furrowed, shoulder slumped once more and his gaze drifted down to the ground. “N-no…I have not, Angel,” he sighed. “It might have been for the best if we had just cut this off before anything started. That way neither of us would get hurt,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself in comfort. “I believe that's a cowardly way to shield your heart, Angel” he said, lips pressed tightly together. “Have you ever heard the quote ‘tis better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all’? I value the friendship I have found in you, and even if we do not see each other after we part ways, even with the heartbreak I am positive I shall experience. I will hold onto the memory of you and our friendship with a deep love and admiration. I will not regret even for a second choosing to get to know you and becoming your friend because I was afraid of getting hurt.” His voice was low, pain an audible undercurrent in it. “Well, I wish I had your mindset.” You sighed, shaking your head. “I learnt a long time ago that it's just easier to not get involved so much.” “ ‘Easier’ “ He scoffed. “That’s just cowardice and we both know it. How is the woman I met this guarded? This afraid? You are a dazzling and radiant creature. Such a brave and kindhearted woman, I had no inclination you could be this cold about something.” “And here I thought you were logical enough to understand the reality of long term relationships as a prospector!” You snapped, pointing a finger at him. “You said so yourself that you have never maintained one in this life-” “I’ve never wanted to before!” he almost shouted, panic rising in his voice. “I have never dreaded saying goodbye to someone the way I dread saying goodbye to you-” “That’s why we should have ended this weeks ago!” You shouted back, curling into yourself, getting away from him, fists clenching. “No! That's exactly why we should work to maintain what we have!” He said desperately getting up off the bunk so he was more eye level with you. Stepping into the personal space you were trying to expand. He wasn’t having any of that. “It won't work! It never does!” You said, you could hear your voice rising in pitch, as it often did when you got emotional. “Just because you have been unlucky in the past does not mean we should give up on a good thing!” he said, reaching for you cautiously. “Angel, please understand, I will do whatever it takes…Please do not cut me out. I fear being forced from your life will do more harm than naturally drifting apart over time would do. Do not force me away,” he murmured sadly, taking your hand in his, impossibly gentle. You bowed your head so you didn’t have to look at him. “I’m not going to be responsible for you sitting at home, every night, waiting for some kind of response from me. I don’t want to give you false hope-” “It’s not false hope if there's a real possibility of you answering,” he said quietly. “And what happens if I don't? “ You asked, pulling your hand away. ”This is a dangerous profession, we both know that. What happens if I get hurt, or worse? And you're sitting in your home every night, for months? Years? When do you give up after i'm gone?” “Please don’t talk like that Angel.” He sighed. “Why? Too much of a reality check?” you taunt, biting back even more poisonous words “I think you are just looking for more justification in pushing me away,” Ezra said. He hesitated before he continued. “I understand you have been hurt in the past, but your notion that cutting things off, and shielding your heart from others will do nothing to ease those pains. I will worry about you every night regardless, even if I am not granted the pleasure of hearing from you daily. I will still worry about you no matter what, and I will not give up on hope of hearing from you again, so long as you do not forcibly push me away.” You turned away from him, ashamed of the hurt you would no doubt cause this man. “You should focus on Cee ” you sighed, words bitter in your mouth. “She needs you, and she’ll be around permanently for you once you get things sorted. An adoptive daughter is something much more important than a drifter you met and became acquainted with.” “ ‘Acquainted with?’ “ he asked with an exasperated sigh. “Angel, we are friends, good friends. Please do not devalue the relationship we have built. You are the most trusted friend I have ever had-” “I don’t want to hurt you, Ez-” “Then don’t cut me off!” He pleaded, running his hand through his hair in distress. “Make the effort and I will too!-” “I don’t want to get hurt either! I don’t want to risk it!” “This is bullshit!” His breaths were becoming a little rapid. “ It’s going to hurt no matter what you do! Is it not worth the risk to you?” “No !” you shouted. “No, it never is! I hate the heartbreak and I should have stopped this before it got too far!” “Angel, please-” He pleaded again, voice desperate. “NO! No, Ezra just go.” you sighed, slumping in position.” Please. Our friendship was nice while it lasted. I didn’t mean for it to go this far….” He made a hesitant step towards you, face heartbroken , he tried to take hold of your hand with his own again but you pulled away quickly. “Just go,” you sighed again in exasperation, mind running at lightspeed. He tried to plead with his eyes, searching your gaze, but you just looked away again. “I am sorry I have caused you so much distress,” he said, sorrow thick in his voice and he made his way to leave reluctantly. “I will cherish the time spent with you, I am sorry you will not look back on it with the same fondness,” he added before he finally left, door shutting behind him, achingly final You had not realized, in the time you had gotten close to him, just how much he had sunk his way into your soul.

You had enjoyed his company so much but ignored just how much his presence had wormed its way deep into your heart. You had been blind to the reality of what would happen once you had made friends with him. And you wished, wished you really had cut things off before it had gotten this far, because the heartbreak racing through your being was far, far worse than anything you could have imagined. It tore away at your insides and you tried to process just what was causing it, the pain of cutting him out, the pain of hurting him, or the pain that told you he was right? You loathed yourself as you realized the only reason you were currently feeling so disgusting was because of your own stubbornness. You felt your knees grow weak as the sorrow crept up on you, the acidic cocktail of pure shame swirling in your stomach, you staggered over and collapsed into your bunk, which still smelt like him. You could not hold your tears back as you cursed yourself for ever letting him get so close to you. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ezra did not show up at his usual time the next morning, and you were unsure if you were pleased or not with that. His absence just made you feel worse and you stubbornly doubled down on the belief that that proved you should have cut him out sooner, rather than accepting he was right.It was easier to delude yourself that admit completely that you were wrong. Hiding from the truth like a frightened child. For the remainder of your journey it felt like he was actively avoiding you, because you had never once seen him in passing whenever you left the safety of your quarters. The night before you landed, a knock at the door roused you. Your heart betrayed you as you felt a rush of elation course through you, he had come back to see you despite everything you had said to him! “Just a minute!” You called to him from your bunk as you rushed putting your prosthetic on. You scrambled to the door unable to hide the relief you felt as you opened the door and saw…Cee. “Uhm, hey," the girl said, looking awkward, "Sorry about this, Ezra wanted to return a book he borrowed but he didn’t want to ‘disturb’ you.” She handed you one of the books you had leant to Ezra. ”But that’s code for ‘too chicken to come see you’. Turns out he’s a bit of a baby like that,” She continued with an enigmatic smile. “Ah, thank you,” you said, deflating , taking the book, disappointment apparently clear on your face. “I’ll tell him you were wanting to see him,” she said a little playfully as she slinked off. You tried to call out to her to stop but she was quick to disappear into the dark halls and ignored you. With a heavy sigh you closed the door and went back to bed, throwing the book onto your packed belongings as you did so. His absence had done nothing but distress you more. Perhaps it was pride, or stubbornly sticking to your belief that kept you away, but more than anything you were just too afraid and ashamed of how you had acted. He had called you a coward, you were beginning to believe him. You glanced at the book from your position on your bunk, and wished he had returned it himself. But at the same time you were relieved he didn’t. You had planned to be up early, the next morning, so you pulled your leg off so you could settle down properly. Wanting to depart the second you landed, able to avoid seeing him that way, if possible. You couldn’t deny to yourself now that you wanted to see him, but you were stuck in your belief that it was better not to get too close for fear of getting hurt even further. Seeing him again, as much as you wanted to, would just hurt you all over again, because you still believed it wouldn’t work. It was a storm of feelings inside you, each of them battling each other. This was why you kept people away. It was easier.

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You were up and early the next day, having packed everything that remained and cleared out your quarters. You elected to hide in your bunk, rather than the foyer that would no doubt be packed with people raring to get off, just in case he was there. But, despite your efforts to hide, he was there anyway. Waiting on the boardwalk outside the departure doors, Cee just a short distance away off to the side, minding her own business. Annoyingly, he stood dead center in the middle of the walkway, hand on his hip as he scouted you out. The stubborn, cowardly part of you wanted to return to your quarters. You could attempt to sneak past him but that just felt childish. The crowd had already dispersed enough now so it was just a gentle trickle of people leaving the ship. So you kept walking , head held high, not looking at him. He caught your wrist anyway, fingers curling around it firm, but gently. “Please let me go Ezra,” you whispered, not meeting his gaze, clutching your bag closer to yourself. “Angel, please, do not do me the disservice of not giving me a proper goodbye. I will never be able to forgive myself if I do not say farewell to you properly.” “Ok, goodbye,” you said, trying to pull out of his grip. “Angel, don’t be childish” he chided, not willing to let go of his hold on you until you relaxed, so you relented reluctantly. He was right, you were being childish. He pulled you into a hug as best he could with one arm, chin resting on your head. “I have missed your company this past week, as I would like to imagine you have done so with me,” he started, holding you tightly to his front as if scared you would take flight.

“It has given me a taste as to what life will be like now without you and I can ascertain that it is not something that i enjoy. However, I can not deny that despite our time together being so short, I have thoroughly enjoyed what time I have spent with you, and I do not regret one second I spent getting to know you. My only regret is that we cannot continue this, as much as i wish we could. I will not force you to partake in something you do not want, as much as it pains me to say goodbye. You are an amazing, beautiful and kindhearted woman, your help in dealing with the most difficult part of my life will forever be appreciated, and I truly believe your kindness has saved my life. I wish to go on only looking back at our brief friendship with fondness, which is why I wanted to say goodbye properly,” he said, his voice tight. Your eyes were tearing up. If only you could be so open with how you felt, telling him exactly what is going on inside your head, and once again you found yourself jealous of his way with words. You felt them, trapped in your throat, you wanted to express every thought and emotion he had managed to conjure up in you, to tell him of your confusing feeling that had been consuming you. To just tell him that you were sorry and that he was right, because that part of you that cared about him knew that if you just admitted you were wrong there would have been no need for any of this.

But you couldn’t. You weren’t him. You were far too stubborn for your own good and you couldn’t express yourself as easily as breathing as he could.

All you could manage was to choke out a muffled “Goodbye Ezra” as he held you.

He begrudgingly let you go, pulling you closer for a brief moment to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“Goodbye, Angel” He said. “If…if you ever change your mind, I wrote my contact number in the cover of the book Little Bird returned.”

You finally looked into his eyes, his own reflecting the tears that welled up in yours, pain and sorrow looking back at one another.

You turned your back to him, and with that you were gone.

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TAG LIST @oloreaa @chaotic-noceur

#my fic #JLM #prospect #prospect 2018 #ezra #ezra from prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x you #ofc #pedro pascal

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c-ptsdrecovery · 4 years

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Adults who suffer from developmental trauma may go on to develop Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or "cPTSD," which is characterized by difficulties in emotional regulation, consciousness and memory, self-perception, distorted perceptions of perpetrators of abuse, difficulties in relationships with other people, and negative effects on the meaningfulness of life.

How Does Developmental Trauma Impact Identity Formation?

Identity formation is an important part of normal development, and takes place across the lifespan. Identity — including one's sense of being good enough, integration of emotion and intellect, basic awareness of emotional state, feeling secure and coherent as an individual, and even the basic experience of who one actually is — is disrupted by developmental trauma, because basic survival takes precedence over, and uses resources ordinarily allocated for, normal development of the self. Early trauma shifts the trajectory of brain development, because an environment characterized by fear and neglect, for example, causes different adaptations of brain circuitry than one of safety, security, and love. The earlier the distress, on average, the more profound the effect.

The task of identity development in adulthood, challenging enough (though rewarding) for those with a secure, safe, and enriching upbringing, is especially fraught for those grappling with the aftermath of developmental trauma. Because of developmental delays and the adult consequences of trauma, which often include substance abuse, eating disorders, depression, higher risk for many health problems, behavioral issues, and difficulty in personal relationships and professional development, identity development gets stuck.

Identity for adults with unresolved developmental trauma is often organized around being a survivor and maintaining basic safety in relation to others, leading to re-traumatizing and disheartening repetitions, preventing growth-oriented experiences. Individuals in this situation become highly identified with a "traumatic self," at the expense of a more inclusive, flexible sense of self. People with significant developmental trauma dissociate from their environment and from themselves early on — a last ditch survival mechanism — and may remain disconnected from themselves throughout childhood, adolescence, and early adulthood, only recognizing what has happened when there is no other choice but to do so.

With these considerations in mind, I am highlighting key ways that identity tends to be shaped by earlier traumatic experiences. Understanding these basic themes, which are often a result of dissociative effects on the traumatized personality, can help people recognize areas of difficulty so they can begin doing the work of recovery, repair, and personal growth.

1. Loss of childhood: "I never really had a childhood" or "I can't remember much from growing up."

People who experience a very distressing childhood often can't remember large swathes of their early life. They may remember particularly vivid moments, sometimes called "flashbulb memories," which don't have any context to them. They often don't have a clear story of themselves as a child, up through adolescence, early adulthood, and sometimes even later in life. This autobiographical sense is called a "coherent narrative" in attachment theory, and can be absent, underdeveloped, false, or oversimplified. Many people have told me that they feel like their childhood has been stolen, and without such a foundation, adult identity is compromised.

2. Missing parts of oneself: "I've always felt like something was missing, but I don't know what it is."

With chronic developmental distress, children often disconnect important parts of themselves in order to survive, a form of dissociation. They may come to rely on one major persona in order to have stability and make it appear as if everything were OK — such as being an exemplary student — while having little or no real personal life. Later in life, they may feel like parts of themselves are missing. Through personal growth and therapy, they may rediscover and even create anew these missing parts. Sometimes they are there, stowed away for better times if you will, but younger-feeling than their everyday persona. It's common for these missing parts to be associated with particular emotional states and memories, and reuniting leads to a fuller sense of identity.

3. Attraction to destructive relationships: "I'm the kind of person that always dates people who are bad for me."

It is not uncommon for people traumatized by key caregivers to end up with friendships, romantic relationships, and even work settings which are not good for them. They find people who fit their traumatic identity, even when they are trying to make different and better choices, leading to re-traumatization through repetition of the past.

They may end up being around emotionally unavailable people, abusive or narcissistic people, or end up trying to rescue and fix people they date. Consciously, they want to find someone who can provide what they intellectually know they need and want, yet unconscious influences lead them down unwanted, familiar paths. Frequently, there is a powerful "chemistry" with new relationships, which makes it seem like the relationship will be different, only to learn with disappointment that it is all too familiar. When friends try to warn them, it's not unusual for them to pick the new romance over a trusted friend. Repeatedly getting into destructive relationships can be disorienting and confusing, leading one to question one's self-understanding and locking one into the old identity, while preventing new identities from taking root.

4. Avoidance of relationships: "I'm someone who is better off alone."

Alternatively, people with negative developmental experiences involving intimate relationships may opt to avoid closeness and isolate themselves. Sometimes this starts early on and sometimes later, as an attempt to break the cycle of harmful relationships. But healthy relationships with other people are crucial for personal development, presenting opportunities for growth and change. Missing out on them in adulthood as a self-protective measure further impairs development of a fully adult identity, solidifying a self-perception of unworthiness and self-condemnation. There are many exceptions to the feeling that we are too flawed for others, who deserve better. Most of us have the capacity to offer more than we think we do, and thereby become more appreciative of ourselves. It's too complicated for here to talk about hope, faith in oneself, and how a long process of recovery unfolds. It's worth noting that sometimes we unconscious push people away, appearing to ourselves be a threat when we do not so intend.

5. Avoidance of oneself: "I don't like to think about myself; it only makes me feel bad."

Especially when childhood trauma was a defining component of key relationships — parents, siblings, and other important people — any reminder of those experiences may lead to efforts to manage painful emotions and experiences through escape from oneself. Taken to the extreme, this may lead one to self-destruction.

Connection with oneself, as with others, is a powerful reminder of prior trauma, activating memories and emotions which are often too much to handle. Self-care is impaired, and one learns to live apart from oneself as a matter of habit. They may not be able to reflect upon themselves at all, and flee from any encouragement to do so. Sense of self is often characterized by disgust and essential badness, reflecting a rigid traumatic identity.

6. Difficulty integrating emotions into one's identity: "I'm not the kind of person who has strong feelings about things."

When feelings had no place in one's family of origin, emotions become split from identity. They continue to have influence, leading to confusion and an unstable sense of self, because one is unable to predict, let alone manage, strong emotions. We need that emotional data to be fully ourselves and to make decisions. Emotional dysregulation leads to problems with impulsive decisions and gets in the way of forming healthy relationships with others.

People may experience a sense of emotional numbing or (paradoxically) feel they don't have any emotions at all. They may experience a limited range of emotions or feel muted emotions. They may, for example, only be able to feel vague emotions, such as frustration or boredom, or they may block out dissatisfaction until anger explodes. They may only feel negative emotions about themselves, such as disgust and self-loathing — and recoil from anything or anyone presenting a positive view of them, feeling uneasy with gratitude from others, "not knowing how to take a compliment" or feeling mistrustful when people express kindness. They may adopt an overly intellectualized identity, acting stilted or awkward around others.

This leads to difficulty in personal relationships, as emotions are required for intimacy and shape career choices, while often limiting advancement. Identity is narrow and flat, and re-integrating emotions into one's sense of self, while rewarding and necessary for growth, can be very challenging, full of fears and difficult learning experiences.

Moving Forward

While it can be disheartening to read about the effects of developmental trauma in adulthood, and daunting to contemplate doing the work of recovery and identity formation beyond that of the traumatized self, therapeutic efforts are effective. Addressing these issues pays off, though the fact that there are no guarantees is a therapeutic opportunity as well as a point where a lot of people get stuck.

Recovery, grieving, and growth often take place over a longer time period than one would want, and re-connecting with oneself has many layers. Developing a sense that long-term goals are attainable and worth working toward is important, even if it doesn't feel possible or true. Working toward getting basic self-care in place is a vital first step, as is working toward feeling comfortable seeking help when trust in caregivers has been broken. Developing compassion for and patience with oneself can be difficult, but useful.

#ptsd #c-ptsd #developmental trauma #recovery

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dieverdediger · 4 years

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The Worship of Depression

Hot take: We as a Western society like depression. We like darkness. We like the “broken” guy. Take a look at shows like Rick and Morty, BBC’s Sherlock (to some extent), House M.D., Bojack Horseman, Doc Martin, and many others. We always like to see how this “weird” but “smart” guy struggles with his relationship and struggles to be a better person.

That’s all well and good... IF we keep in mind that he is the abnormality. Not us. The problem lies in him, not me. Where he represents some universal condition, it is not necessarily an inevitable one.

The lead characters of all these shows tend to have a pessimistic view of life. Take Dr. House especially. “Life is pain”, he says. And so he drives almost everyone away. They think the universe is meaningless and godless (literally and figuratively). We would be stupid to take their advice. Clearly there is something wrong with them. House has an addiction and tries to solve his loneliness through work and prostitutes, Morty is alcoholic and also lonely, Bojack is depressed, Martin has anxiety. Healthy people have none of these. So what they say should be taken with a grain of salt.

Two shows point to a better world. Sherlock starts out like the guys above: cold, analytical, unappreciative of relationships. But we quickly realise - and Sherlock himself quickly realises - that he is the one missing out. There is some healthy view of the world that he, in all his genius, never realised. In Season 3 there is this one scene where Sherlock and his brother Mycroft have a little game. They try to one-up each other by analysing a stranger’s hat:

(See the vid below)

Sherlock: A quick sniff of the offending bobble tells us all we need to know about the state of his breath.

Mycroft: Brilliant! Elementary.

Sherlock: But you've missed his isolation.

Mycroft: I don't see it.

Sherlock: Plain as day.

Mycroft: Where?

Sherlock: There for all to see.

Mycroft: Tell me.

Sherlock: Plain as the nose on your -

Mycroft: Tell me!

Sherlock: Well, anybody who wears a hat as stupid as this isn't in the habit of hanging around other people, is he?

By the third season Sherlock has grown, and this has helped him even in his intellectual pursuits. He could have stuck to his isolation and obsessiveness, but he didn’t. He opened up and really started to care for John and the others. It was through his empathy that he recognised the stranger’s isolation. That’s good. That’s growth.

The other show, which is even better, is Lucifer. On the surface Lucifer is everything that’s bad about our obsession with the anti-hero: violent, destructive, has orgies, ignores important problems, hides his feelings... But the creators of the show always keeps it very clear to the audience that Lucifer is the one with the issue. Lucifer has the “daddy issues”. Lucifer himself often admits this. In fact his entire therapy thing is an attempt to deal with a recognition that he has the problem. Not Cloe, he. We should not emulate him. We can study him, and laugh at him, and cry for him. But not copy him.

The point of everything is this: depressed does NOT equal depth or intelligence. What is sad is not necessarily true. What is pessimistic is not necessarily realistic. Quite the opposite usually. We have a tendency for taking the sad guy to be the one with the right view of life, and the happy guy to be the one with the naive and stupid view of life. Why? What is the rational reason for this? We do so because we think in our heart of hearts that life really is meaningless. But if it is NOT meaningless, then of course the happy man would be the right one. We shouldn’t mock him.

Now, of course if the universe is meaningless then we should agree with Dr. House. And if it has meaning, we should agree with Dr. Wilson. But suppose we don’t know whether it is meaningless or not. If we don’t know the facts, then shouldn’t we chose the healthier option? The view that is conducive to happiness, relationships, and love? Isn’t it the more “fitting”?

I think linked to the “depression equals depth” assumption is the idea that happy people are naive. That they do not know pain. The idea that everyone who really knows pain would be cynical and depressed. But surely the facts don’t show that? All the great people in history have known suffering. Most of the happy people you know might even have suffered more than the rest. In fact, it is usually those with the most pain in life who somehow manage to be the happiest in spite of it all. And we envy them for that.

It is easy to be sad. You simply let your sadness overwhelm you. It doesn’t take effort. You just allow it. But to be happy is difficult. To be grateful is an exercise. To overcome and see past your own pain is a skill. It takes effort. And we don’t like that.

One fictional character that encompasses an awareness of suffering, and yet stays happy, is Father Brown. You might have heard about him. He is a creation of G. K. Chesterton. He appears has a kind of detective priest who solves crime by looking at the characters of people.

In Chesterton’s autobiography he explained how the glory of Father Brown lies not in him being some naive priest, but rather in a priest that is more aware of evil than others, but doesn’t let it overwhelm him. He transcends it. He based Brown on a person he knew in real life: Father John o’Connor:

I mentioned to the priest in conversation that I proposed to support in print a certain proposal, it matters not what, in connection with some rather sordid social questions of vice and crime. On this particular point he thought I was in error, or rather in ignorance; as indeed I was. And, merely as a necessary duty and to prevent me from falling into a mare's nest, he told me certain facts he knew about perverted practices which I certainly shall not set down or discuss here.

I have confessed on an earlier page that in my own youth I had imagined for myself any amount of iniquity; and it was a curious experience to find that this quiet and pleasant celibate had plumbed those abysses far deeper than I. I had not imagined that the world could hold such horrors. If he had been a professional novelist throwing such filth broadcast on all the bookstalls for boys and babies to pick up, of course he would have been a great creative artist and a herald of the Dawn. As he was only stating them reluctantly, in strict privacy, as a practical necessity, he was, of course, a typical Jesuit whispering poisonous secrets in my ear.

When we returned to the house, we found it was full of visitors, and fell into special conversation with two hearty and healthy young Cambridge undergraduates, who had been walking or cycling across the moors in the spirit of the stern and vigorous English holiday. They were no narrow athletes, however, but interested in various sports and in a breezy way in various arts; and they began to discuss music and landscape with my friend Father O'Connor. I never knew a man who could turn with more ease than he from one topic to another, or who had more unexpected stores of information, often purely technical information, upon all.

The talk soon deepened into a discussion on matters more philosophical and moral; and when the priest had left the room, the two young men broke out into generous expressions of admiration, saying truly that he was a remarkable man, and seemed to know a great deal about Palestrina or Baroque architecture, or whatever was the point at the moment. Then there fell a curious reflective silence, at the end of which one of the undergraduates suddenly burst out. "All the same, I don't believe his sort of life is the right one. It's all very well to like religious music and so on, when you're all shut up in a sort of cloister and don't know anything about the real evil in the world. But I don't believe that's the right ideal. I believe in a fellow coming out into the world, and facing the evil that's in it, and knowing something about the dangers and all that. It's a very beautiful thing to be innocent and ignorant; but I think it's a much finer thing not to be afraid of knowledge."

To me, still almost shivering with the appallingly practical facts of which the priest had warned me, this comment came with such a colossal and crushing irony, that I nearly burst into a loud harsh laugh in the drawing-room. For I knew perfectly well that, as regards all the solid Satanism which the priest knew and warred against with all his life, these two Cambridge gentlemen (luckily for them) knew about as much of real evil as two babies in the same perambulator.

And so, to end my much too long post, I will make my point clear: there is nothing necessarily deep in being sad. And there’s nothing necessarily superficial in being happy. Don’t be depressed because you think it is deep. Don’t envy those who are clearly unhappy. Don’t mistake joy for foolishness.

P. S. I am not making any comment on depression as an actual psychological disease. I understand that this is not always a choice. But this just reinforces my point: clearly depression isn’t healthy. So we shouldn’t emulate it. We should pity and help those who have it, but we are idiots if we think people who suffer from it are somehow “deeper” and “more profound” than our happy Christian neighbour. There’s something this neighbour - who has the same problems us we - realise that we don’t.

vimeo

#depression #media #pop #culture #shows #sherlock #house #rick and morty #philosophy #Christianity #sad #depressed #health #series #Hugh Laurie #mental health #suicide #addiction #addict #abuse

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romefm · 4 years

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i’m like 95% sure i have an assignment due tomorrow and it’s already midnight ........ so naturally i’m procrastinating so my world title of Captain Dumbass doesn’t ever come into question 👸👸 this is recycled bc i’m chronically incapable of effort but tl:dr he’s literally the embodiment of every shitty dude u have the misfortune of running into at the bar :/ but he’s held a door open for an old lady 1.5 times in his life so all is forgiven 😉

𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 here and do i have the tea for you . rome is back on campus , which is surprising considering the threatening note i left them . yes , i know all about him crashing his car while drunk and attempting to flee the scene because of their pride. imagine the tabloids and how the pierce family would feel for such information to come out , not to mention the reputation of pike because of their actions . at this rate , he is better off staying put in atlanta , georgia and living off that 500m family net worth. what’s the point in studying psychology with plans to play in the nfl , is it worth it with what i know ? anyways , they may want to continue to be protective & lion-hearted because the irascible & machiavellian attributes make me want to spill .

𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊 : roman gabriel pierce

𝖆𝖌𝖊 : twenty - one

𝖉𝖔𝖇 : june 15th , 1998

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 / 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖘 : he / him

𝖘𝖊𝖝𝖚𝖆𝖑 & 𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 : 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙: 6‘2″ 🤡

𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊: having graduated from the title of white man’s wh*re , he is now cordially referred to as the white man’s beefcake . he treats gym sessions like a therapy visit , clocking in at a friendly 220 lbs . like all gym rats w/o a personality , he keeps his hair short on the sides n longer on top , a la this look . he has a scar running along the inside of his right arm from when he broke it , and another that splits his left eyebrow from his eighteenth birthday

𝖔𝖈𝖈𝖚𝖕𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 : resident waste of space , quarterback for the hollingsworth mumbles ( update : it’s panthers ... they’re the panthers ) , least favorite son of the year recipient 1998 - 2019 .

𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖔𝖜𝖓 : atlanta , georgia .

ii.

second son of hall of fame ex falcons qb , miles pierce , and entrepreneur and daughter of a famed manhattan - based art collector , amélie pierce – rome’s future was pretty non - negotiable since day one . as soon as they could stumble around enough to pass for walking , miles had his sons enrolled in as many football programs as he legally could .

when rome was young , he loved it . the attention , the praise he received for his quickness despite being one of the smallest kids on the field . plus , going to his father’s games and being recognized as miles pierce’s kids was also fun . soon came time for the inevitable retirement on the heel of a downward - trending career , and after that things … changed .

suddenly , it was less praise and more demands . earlier practices , with his father making rome and his brother run drills until they were sick . suddenly , things that were previously good weren’t good enough , despite how much better his sons continued to be .

as anyone with half a brain could guess , these pressures eventually began to take their toll . with interests in anything else repressed by his father’s insistence that football is and always will be the most important thing in life , rome began to emulate his father’s aggressive attitude , first bringing it to the field and then , more notably , to his personal life . failed relationships , fights at school , sneaking home late absolutely blitzed out of his mind – none of the behaviors were healthy , but they were enough to take the weight of his father’s hands off of his shoulders , if only for a moment . until papa helicopter parent found out , that is .

tw abuse : despite his sons catering to his every will , miles’ incessant anger began to worsen , and soon a lot of the verbal abuse had started to become physical , too . sure , rome knew that it was wrong , but he also thought that maybe if he’d been better in the game last night , or worked harder at practice , maybe he’d stop .

he made varsity his freshman year of high school and took his team to the state championships , expecting his dad to finally approve of something he’d done . instead , he came home to the news that his mother was leaving – that his parents were splitting up and that this had been a long time combing . safe to say this mama’s boy ass bitch was devastated.

tw death : his dad only sunk deeper into his madness , but all that anyone else could see is that rome was throwing further , moving faster , and making better plays . a non - football related injury left him with a broken arm , and it was on the way home from the hospital that his father received the call that his ex - wife had taken her own life . devastated part ii , coming soon to a theater near you !

tw drugs , alcohol , general debauchery : the partying worsened . rome had entered a phase in his life where he was looking for something – anything to completely wipe his mind of any and all thoughts . the drugs , the alcohol , it was all a coping mechanism , but it definitely wasn’t a healthy one . soon , his brother left for college thousands of miles away , and rome found out that that fifth of rum goes down a lot easier after doing a few lines beforehand .

he chose to go to college in cali not because he wanted to , but because his dad knew that hollingsworth was a great school for scouting attention . in his midst of an extended bender compounded by having training now twice a day everyday on top of college courses , he decided to join pike – and he absolutely loves it .

he chose to major in psych because he wants to understand why his dad hates him so much skjfjks dumb b*tch .

also last summer he may or may not have allegedly accidentally wrapped his masterati around a telephone pole and gotten a dui . in reality , it was his brother’s accidental doing after a rather... heated argument between the two , but roman told him to gtfo and he’d take the fall because his bro finally managed to escape his dad and rome didn’t want him to suffer the same fate . it made headlines , but his dad pulled approximately 6 billion strings to get him conditionally reinstated to the team .

spent the summer before his junior year chillin in rehab , but he relapsed shortly after . consistency is key here , kids.

still bender - adjacent , but he’s kept it more lowkey because the nfl draft is coming in hot .

iii.

he really ………….. kinda sux , objectively sfdkjsdfjk . personality-wise and bc he has a southern accent .

he has so , so much pent up frustration and anger directed at his father and himself that it manifests in some pretty shitty behaviors .

he’s definitely controlling ( as a consequence of having v v little control over his own life ) , and he’ll manipulate any situation he deems worthy of his effort just to assure that he isn’t in any state of vulnerability .

i know yall get it , he vapes , but he’s definitely the kind of guy to try to keep the party running til 5 am and get pissed when people tell him that maybe he should stop .

he will provoke anyone and anything ( even inanimate objects ) if found in a self - destructive enough mood .

has a notoriously short temper , but what kind of gym rat doesn’t .

manages to still attain a 4.0 ( and in his words , psych is easy ) , so that’s another thing that makes it difficult for him to understand that his lifestyle is … per se … problematique .

10000% has sent a plethora of u up ? texts

kinda gets a little .. hm .. sad sometimes but that’s only after everyone bails from the party n he’s left alone in a dirty ass frat house sdkfsdjk

definitely an irredeemable trash bag and pls don’t think of him any other way

is definitely fiercely loyal to the 2.5 people who can tolerate him .

currently in an uber ride to hell , but 10/10 hit the option so that his uber driver can’t talk to him 🤡

#listen IIIIIIIIIIII didnt even read this when writing it so i honestly don't expect yall to either ksnfsnkdf #holling:intro

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friedesgreatscythe · 4 years

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this post is basically my way to tell the goblin in my brain to shut up about my current preference for queer male ships, and why i personally feel more comfortable with it at this point in my life due to recent mental health healing efforts. content warning for rape trauma.

in the past i worked really hard to take comfort in writing male/female romance or erotic relationships. it was a healthy exploration of my sexuality, which had been significantly stunted after years of abuse, after a rape, and after men (and women) taking advantage of my body and using me sexually. indulging in m/f romances was my attempt to engage with one half of my bisexuality and engage in a sexual development that i never had, and felt ashamed of wanting since i was a teenager.

in recent years--since 2017 i want to say--i’ve been leaning more towards queer male relationships, both in writing and in fandom interests, because that was the year i started therapy. it was the year i had to confront the idea of bringing up my rape trauma in therapy. the effect of that was to gradually eclipse my m/f romance interests and comfort, which brings me to today. 2019 is really where this took off, after the far cry 5 and rdr2 fixation faded. now it’s to the point where i do have m/f ships and story ideas, but for the most part i am far more comfortable, content, happy, and inspired thinking of queer male romances. this is entirely because my current phase of therapy has moved into finally tackling my rape trauma.

i cannot and do not feel safe thinking of m/f romances while my brain is also trying to dismantle years of trauma and destructive fears and fury. in the past, when i did all i could to not think about my own excruciating, unwilling experiences with sexual contact, i could keep it at a distance. but now that i am having to rip open the wound and look at all its rot and dig it out, my brain cannot handle the task of writing stories featuring m/f couples. it’s too scary. the wound is open, and raw.

queer male relationships are so appealing to me because i will never be a man. i will never know what it’s like to be in a man’s body, never know what it’s like to be a queer man. all i can do is take the good, healthy ideas i have about romance and sex and try my best to imagine such scenarios. i will not have my own experiences intruding; i will not have to think of a boy raping me, or boys forcing themselves on me, of holding me down and laughing when i start to panic; i will not have to think of waking up and having a female friend sticking her hands down my pants and groping my chest; i will not have to think of girls taking advantage of my trauma, coercing me to trust them and open up about my sexuality, and then turning around and using that trust as a way to demean me. i will not have to think of girls stalking me, men following me for blocks and cornering me to tell me they think i’m gorgeous. i will not have to think of male strangers sending me nudes and demanding i do the same in return.

writing about queer male relationships are safe for me. they’re safe. what’s more, i can take heteronormative concepts of romance tropes and dismantle them by applying them to queer romances. i can take what is so ubiquitous in m/f romances and frame them in queer contexts, giving my community something we don’t have or don’t have enough of. i can explore toxic masculinity’s effect on men and boys and heal them as best i can. i can show men and boys being vulnerable and finding healthier outlets for their tenderness than anger and violence. i can use their anger and violence as a way to protect--vicious tenderness; monster romances; enemies to lovers, etc.

can i do that with m/f romances? sure. can i do it with f/f romances as well? of course. but the experiences of being a woman are so... brutal and horrifying and terrifying and traumatizing and damaging to me that i cannot, at this point in time, engage with them creatively. not until the wound starts to scar over.

#krist.txt #cw rape #i wanna heal

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brightsun-and-darkmidnight · 4 years

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Changes to Find the Middle

TITLE: Changes to Find the Middle

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Oneshot

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-darkmidnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki helping you through a new medication regimen.

Image meeting Loki at the really "good/high" end of a mental illness (like bipolar).

RATING: Teen

NOTES/WARNINGS: Mental health. Bipolar disorder. Manic to depression. Sexual relationship. Mentions of sex but no explicit content. Character not being herself.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Please be careful and take care of yourself. This might be a little triggering due to what I know of Bipolar disorder. Extreme highs (hypomania) and extreme lows (depression) are shown in this but thankfully this has a happy ending I wish everyone could experience in real life. Mental health is so important and People who have mental health issues often can not control themselves due to a chemical imbalance or traumatic experience in their life. Their behavior is often NOT their fault. Seek professional help if needed.

Song Muses: (Addicted by Saving Able) (You don't know by Katelyn Tarver) (Rescue Me by Onerepublic) (Inner demons by Julia Brennan) (Paralyzed by NF)

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

LENGTH: 2,413

*FINALLY..Read the warnings. Once you agree you can handle it...

~ ~ ENJOY ~ ~

"How has your energy been? You look good."

I sat down enthusiastically in front of the doctor's desk, "really good! I have the energy to catch up with things now that a couldn't even think about doing a few months ago."

"That's very good. Are you hanging out with your friends again? I remember our last visit you said you missed them."

"Yeah I took your advice and told them. Only two of my friends are close now but they took me out of my house occasionally and I am feeling more confident with myself because of them."

"I am happy to hear that." The doctor smiled at me.

I talked really fast because my doctor needed to hear more, "Their friends got me into one of Stark's parties and it was… amazing. I met this new guy actually."

"You guys do anything fun?"

"We met at the party and things really sparked. Like REALLY sparked and we see eachother everyday." I did not leave the suggestive tone out of my voice.

"That's good. Go on dates?"

Excitement lit in me at the thought of all the amazing sex we had… but other than the few drinks he bought me and the takeout dinner…

The doctor glanced at me, their look shifted… something shifted and I already knew what was wrong.

"Umm… well.." I rubbed my thigh out of nerves just THINKING about it. Just the thought of the gynecology appointment for STI testing I should get done. I cleared my throat as I awkwardly answered, "there's more… action going on than casual conversations."

My face flushed with heat when they asked,

"You mean sexual intercourse?"

I nodded my head.

I knew. Everyone that actually knew "normal" me… All of us KNEW I never have sex with anyone until a month a serious dating, at least. The type of dating where discussions were deeper things than food, half watched movies, and how our outward appearances looked naked. I never sexted when I couldn't actually meet the other.

The doctor carefully asked the famous question, "Have you used protection?"

I tried to laugh but it came out broken. "No. Once again I felt invincible, overconfident, and had the sex drive of a rabbit."

The doctor started to discuss my sleep that was nonexistent. Then the amount of food consumption that was high and all I have been eating was cheap takeout. I haven't been eating like my usual self who tried to keep eating healthy. Even through depression I ate frozen fruit. It was on my list every time when I absolutely had to drag myself to the store to get necessities. I explained how I have been the person who, "helps everyone out with extreme unrealistic enthusiasm" as I always said to be annoying during my normal window of mind set.

I went to the store to pick up my prescription for a mood stabilizer. I went home and as much as I REALLY wanted to answer the phone when seeing Loki's name. I just didn't. I forced the thought from my mind of...a really pleasure filled night. My body filled with the desire to be touched by another's body.

The phone stopped ringing and so did my sinful thoughts.

As usual there was no voicemail.

In normal circumstances there should have been one, with a declaration of loving longing or a stupid question in a way to just get me to get back in contact.

I stared at my phone. My mind was at war and the part fueled by my bodily behavior was winning. It became a game in my head that was unfavorably tipped towards my body's desire. He texted me if he could come to my place and the game was over. I hid the medication in the cupboard after taking my first dose.

I woke in an odd way… something was different.

I groaned as I moved and felt the bed still warm under my body. I opened my eyes as I inhaled at a similar scent. I was unsure if I was glad he was gone or upset he seemed to have just left. He usually stayed till I woke. I felt the sensation between my legs and knew I needed to make a gynecologist appointment before I had to go to work, praying I could get in after my shift tomorrow.

I made the appointment but it was not for a few days and Loki kept in contact. However I worked on letting him go slowly with not responding immediately and was to the point of making sure not to respond to him unless there were so many number of attempts to contact me.

I stared at my phone as a new text message appeared.

Loki asked a simple question, "Are you ok?"

I laughed and laughed till I could no longer bare to do it.

It WAS a simple question but no one ever wanted the real answer. No one wanted the burdens of another placed on their shoulders from SMALL talk. The truth was deeper and more time consuming than anyone could predict. So I sent the simple one worded lie and left my phone alone again, but silenced it.

It was a while before I checked my phone due to falling asleep to the discovery channel.

I was fully prepared for no new notifications.

I was surprised to see 2 new messages.

I wanted to throw the phone before I looked but the idea was squashed by excitement and curiosity.

Both of the messages from Loki.

"Do you want to meet up?"

Hour after the last message, "talk tomorrow. Goodnight."

I didn't answer back because my stomach tightened in an odd way. I was used to feeling good about a God wanting me but now...

I used positive self talk to encourage myself to not give in on my final day before my tests but that coping skill is easily the hardest to master. I found myself open the chat with him, start to type something arousing and had to delete it. I was pissing myself off. I hated the stage between "normal me" and "ill me" because my mind was constantly at war.

I decided to ultimately block Loki's number in an attempt to stop contact.

My test results came back that I was still healthy and relief washed over me..

Eventually those supposed friends stopped talking to me as they usually did because I was not "fun" anymore.

I was becoming my "normal" self again, thus putting in the efforts of a healthy schedule again.

However, the loneliness from staying in by myself. Not having anyone to talk to. Ofcourse, I had my coworkers that have always openly laughed at poor tastes of mental health jokes. I was losing interest in everything because, "why should I care" and "what's the point?"

I had to look presentable for work so while I was "public eye" ready, I did my shopping then. By the time I got home on the days of the extremely scarce necessity shopping, I was exhausted but my body was wide awake. I would toss and turn trying to sleep but it would not welcome me.

Then other times, I put the cold stuff away and went straight to bed without getting anything to consume. I would often cry myself to sleep, then wake too tired to do anything.

On days off I would lay in bed and do nothing until the desire to use the toilet became too strong.

I would weep and mourn my favorite past times. Not actually my interests and hobbies but how much I could not will myself to just do them. I left the discovery channel play on the TV just for the sake of something familiar. When a little fact I knew would be mentioned it was like a smoldering campfire was stirred.

A little life breathed into me from time to time and due to the doctor's recommendation, I got back into therapy again. It helped but the talks were hard and seemed to weigh heavily on me more once I was home. There are skills I should be using and strategic tips to get things done. However, sometimes I just could not pull the will into my grasp to participate in the knowledge of a healthy lifestyle.

My phone rang with an unknown number. I answered it due to expecting a response from my doctor.

"How have you been?"

I knew that voice… but I could not pinpoint it.

I answered, "I'm ok. But who is this?"

"Loki."

"Oh…" I scrambled for words but nothing came. How was I supposed to explain this to him, my current state in everything and the fact I blocked his number?

"Are you home?"

"I was just about to leave." It was a lie.

A damn terrible lie. I had no plans of removing myself from my couch. It had everything I needed in arms reach because it was essentially my comfort fort now.

The doorbell rang and I was extremely tempted to act like I was not home but the person on the other end of the phone knew.

I sighed with dread ringing in my chest much like the damned sound of company at my door insistent on not giving up.

I opened the door slightly to see Loki standing there.

His eyes met mine.

"You do not seem ok." Echoed from my phone before he ended the call.

I looked past Loki because while it might have once been excitement, I felt anything but that currently.

I tried to push my words out louder than a whisper, "What are you doing here?"

"I have been trying to contact you.. more regularly as of recently."

"I have no intention of being a booty call anymore."

His eyebrows scrunched and he blinked.

I went to shut the door as I said, "goodbye Loki."

Loki's hand shot out and kept the door opened. "You were never."

I huffed in annoyance as hope rose slightly in my chest. Then the doubts from depression took that hope and buried it 20 feet further than before. Tears pricked my eyes after the past hour of seeming to be gone and dried.

Loki's face was of concern when he asked, "may I come in?"

My face felt like it contorted into pure agony as I tried to hide the sob erupting from my aching heart. I tried to swallow the huge lump in my throat but it caused further pain. Then finally from the pain that emitted from deep within me, the tears fell.

I was in the hurricane of emotion from having a visitor.

Joy from not being alone then, to the horror of having to explain.

There was too much to explain... My reason for treating him so vastly different since we met. My emotional state. All my emotions. My appearance of myself and my house. The medication on the counter that had purpose. My illness and why once again I was crying harder. Trying to explain what was WRONG with me and why I needed the medication.

Loki sat beside me at the messy and cluttered kitchen table.

"What do you mean you were 'too good' at the time we met?"

I sniffed but still had to wipe my nose. "It's a symptom of bipolar disorder. I can literally feel too good at some points of my life. I had unbelievable amounts of confidence and optimism. It's called hypomania. That's not who I am. I am much-MUCH more responsible than getting drunk and having unprotected sexual intercourse with someone I know nothing about on an intellectual level."

I watched Loki's tongue swipe his lips as they pressed together and eyebrows scrunched again in thought.

Finally he spoke, "Your vast knowledgeable facts from our FIRST conversation have been playing on that TV throughout our conversation. I can see several things that show your bright mind. The very mind I fell for."

My eyes glanced at him once again. "My knowledge does not change. Just the optimism, focus, and desire for it."

Things seemed to be clicking in Loki's mind. He looked at the medications once again and did not take his eyes off of them. "If you continue your treatment, you will be what you deem normal?"

A small smile pulled my lips as a puff of air escaped from my amusement. "Yes. What I deem as normal. Not anyone else meaning I will be back to my healthy self... If I could remember to take my medicine."

"I am going to help you because I want to see the happy medium that you keep mentioning. It seems that I have seen you at all of your worst moments." He gave me a side glance with a smile pulling at his lips, "I assume there is something I must like out of your normal."

I began to smile but a frown quickly placed it. "There is no telling when I will be normal again."

Gold shimmered over my medication.

"Perhaps now it will become easier to stay on your medication regimen."

I grabbed a bottle and examined it once there was no longer gold around it. "What did you do?"

"I will know where these containers are and be able to move them. I will also know when you open them." He got the spare phone out of his pocket, "should I not be able to contact you again through phone, I will simply move these containers to you."

I felt a little happier as I teased, "I guess simply blocking your number is not going to work anymore?"

Loki smiled, "There are plenty of other numbers I could use."

Loki did help me. There had to be a little adjustment to his plan of keeping track of my medicine. He bought a specific little container made for sorting pills into daily doses. He would help me fill the daily spots for medication and he put another enchantment on that one as well.

Everyday he would come to my place and help with things that needed to be done. He would compliment me when I needed it. He would hold me when medication would make me drowsy. He would urge me to eat when I did not want to. He helped me make healthier choices when I wanted to devour the whole house.

He actually took me to nice restaurants when I felt decent enough to get out.

He would always know everything about my medication and with him being able to literally hold it in my face at any point in the day… well there was no longer the option to forget.

Loki was the constant supply of water to my thirst for knowledge. Due to that type of relationship we really connected. Like really connected. We talked about everything to varying levels of importance and on both ends were voicemails with ridiculous ways to entice the other to call back.

Sometimes I would purposely ignore his calls just to see what the next stupid thing would be left in my mailbox… I listened to the recent one just left on my phone a minute ago.

"I know your games by now, so call me back. ...My declarations of love can wait until you tell me what sweet thing I am craving. I am at the store, so do hurry up before I decide to buy 5 of everything in the candy isle." There was a faint sound of the typical background noise in a store. "Please hurry… I fear I am going to need a bigger cart."

#changes to find the middle #brightsun-and-darkmidnight #oneshot #loki

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violentviolette · 5 years

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You're married right? How do you keep a partner long enough to even consider marrying them with having ASPD? I currently have a partner and whilst I like them ofc (I'm not even sure I feel love), I am quickly getting bored of them. So how do you keep the spark alive?

therapy and polyamory

no but like the real answer is much more nuanced. there is no "spark" for us. weve been together 10 years and it's a concious choice to be in one anothers lives and we do the daily work to make that possible in a way that's healthy for both of us because weve deemed it worth it.

so firstly, I dont get bored of my wife because I dont view her as entertainment. I view her as my equal first and foremost, shes a person who exists outside of me who has qualities I enjoy and admire that have nothing to do with how she treats me. that being said, I do get bored of our relationship sometimes and that's when polyamory comes in clutch. because the puppy dog stage of a new relationship is fun and exciting, and after 10 years my wife and I will never have that again, nor do I want us to, our relationship is past that and I love it for those reasons, but so it's nice to be able to still have that in new relationships while still maintaining my old one. best of both worlds and all that jazz.

next she also knows about all my disorders, because she knows about everything in my life. one of the most important conditions of our relationship is that i do not lie to her, ever. it was really difficult and a long road to get here but I genuinely dont anymore. I am completely open and honest with her about my limitations and she doesnt expect things from me that I cant give. I'm totally free to say "I'm sorry but I dont have the energy to empathize with that rn" or "I'm in a really irritable mood today and cant handle socializing so I'm gonna hide out in my bedroom pls dont bother me unless its important" and she respects that. she is also free to do the same with me. this kind of honesty makes it easy to stay together because were both having our needs met in exactly the right ways and nobody has to stress about doing the right/wrong thing.

but I mean at the end of the day all of this is possible because I find her to be worth all the effort. and I genuinely do. my wife is intelligent, well spoken, creative, insanely hot, kind, caring, sarcastic, cocky, adventurous, althetic, nerdy, and honestly most importantly she has seen me in my entirety, she knows me completely and truly, has seen the best and absolute worst of me, and has loved me anyway. imo theres not much more I could ask for out of a person.

so yea, it is definitely a shit ton of work, and its not always easy and we do disagree and get on eachothers nerves sometimes cause were only human, but for me the benifit to cost ratio makes it more than worth it, so I make the effort.

also just to be fully transparent this took a Very Long time to come to and for the first 3 years of our relationship I horrifically abused her to the point that she attempted suicide and after that we broke up, got tons of individual therapy, got back together and did tons of couples therapy, and literally rebuilt our relationship from the ground up. so when I say this isnt easy I highkey mean it.

#jack.speaks #sorry that got stupidly long #but it is a long and complicated answer #aspd #aspd tag #romance tw #long post #anon

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missmentelle · 5 years

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Hello, need your advice on sth. I have a good friend from different (more conservative) culture. So he s a nice friend but he keeps fighting with me regularly for small petty things and it got me already. Point is he always claims that I offend his culture when I say opinion on sth or just joke around. You can just say sth universal 'u should not punish a child for failure' and be called disrespectful to culture in the end :/ And there it starts, (1@)

he accuses me in being shameless, blames me for hours and hours, and no matter how I try to avoid it, stop him, no matter I break in tears, cry or even excuse myself - he never stops. He keeps this awful cycled fights on some culture issue or opinion for 6+ hours, overnights, even if I just keep saying ‘ok, I don’t care, calm down’, claims I am to blame it started and my excuses are not sincere and this repeats over and over like every week. I started to suspect he takes every petty personal offence for culture disrespect (?) I honestly already don’t know anything. I used to be very positive and sensitive person, I used to be proud of my tolerance and attempts to find approach to everyone, I used to feel joy giving hope to others and now. Now I just don’t feel like doing it anymore and even don’t feel anything, like I resist to say opinions on sth and in general I don’t feel any sparkle in my soul, if it makes sense. I just feel worn out, depressed, talk to others autogeneratedly, lost any motivation and don’t resemble myself in general. when he starts his quarrel again I just don’t have motivations even to think to myself who s right or wrong, I just honestly want him to shut up and leave me in peace (but he doesn’t and I end up crying overnight and feeling guilty and miserable). I am lonely person, I have to live in certain inevitable social isolation and I treasure him as friend but I started to suspect that all those blamings I got from him broke sth in me and I sorta miss myself before I met him. I dunno am just shifting responsibility for not managing myself well onto him, maybe I just got older and that s how u r supposed to feel in ur late 20s? Thing is I can’t afford any therapy nor consultation so I wanted to know ur opinion if it s possible. Does it look like he harms me and it affected me or am I just exaggerating and this is a culture gap and

This goes way beyond cultural differences - it sounds like this person is a toxic and abusive friend, regardless of the culture they come from.

When two people from different cultures have a friendship or romantic relationship, both people have an obligation to respect the other’s culture, and to deal with their differences. The person from the more “liberal” culture is not obligated to put in 100% of the effort to tiptoe around the more conservative culture; the person from the conservative culture has an equal responsibility to learn about the other person’s ways and consider their point of view. Cultural differences need to be worked around or worked through in a way that is respectful to both people, and differences should be treated just as differences, and not as one person’s moral failure. If one person doesn’t eat pork for religious reasons, the two people should go to a restaurant that has non-pork options on the menu, and the person with dietary restrictions should not yell or shame the other person for eating pork if they choose to. If one person’s culture requires a particular form of modest dress and the other’s doesn’t, the two people should not shame each other for what they choose to wear. This isn’t difficult stuff - millions of people around the world have figured out how to have respectful, happy relationships with people who do not share their religion, culture, upbringing or first language. The issues that you are having with your “friend” are not a sign of a cultural gap; they are a sign that he is a rigid, controlling, inflexible person who lacks the emotional maturity to have healthy friendships with people who don’t share his exact worldview.

I honestly don’t think it’s a good idea to continue a friendship with this person. The ultimate decision is yours, but I’m struggling to see what you even get out of this friendship - interacting with him is destroying your mental health, affecting your relationships with others, affecting your sleep, and ruining your overall wellbeing. No friendship is worth that, and nothing - not even a cultural or religious difference - gives someone the right to make you feel that way. A true friend decides that the friendship is worth working through any temporary discomfort or culture shock - they do not stay up all night berating you for who you are. You deserve friends who accept you and make you feel loved, and it is absolutely okay to let go of friends who don’t do that. Best of luck to you!- Miss Mentelle

#Anonymous #AnsweredByMM

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metalandmagi · 5 years

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March Media Madness!

Hello and welcome to the post where I talk about all the movies, books, and TV I consumed this month in my seemingly never ending quest to shout my feelings into the void. And oh boy all the winter anime is ending so I feel dead inside.

*puts on sunglasses* Let’s do this.

Movies!

Bohemian Rhapsody: The one about Queen Freddie Mercury. And it’s pretty good. It’s a little weird seeing a biopic of a band with literally no struggles getting into the industry, and I wouldn’t say it does wonders for the negative stereotypes about bisexuals...but who cares because if you’re watching this movie, it’s because you just want to sing along to some Queen songs and see some big hair! 8/10

How to Train Your Dragon- The Hidden World: The third and final installment in the How to Train Your Dragon trilogy, in which Dreamworks pulls a Butterfree on us, but at least we get a happy ending. This franchise holds a special place in my heart for so many reasons, and I’m glad that this one stuck the landing. Each movie has its own specific feeling and message, and they all advance the story in unique ways. Apart from being beautifully animated and hilarious, it also packs the big emotional punch we all were expecting and ends on a satisfying note overall. But it’s still not perfect. The other riders are at their most useless by far, and this is coming from someone who never really minded them before. They’re a lot more irritating if you’ve watched the tv series and can see how they can be useful. And Astrid really only provides emotional support instead of her usual ass-kicking. The villain was...fine...but he didn’t really pack much of a punch. And I really wished they had kept some sort of continuity and embraced the television series (I NEED A DAGUR CAMEO)! But these are mostly small things. If you haven’t given this franchise a try yet, please give it a chance! 9/10

Ralph Breaks the Internet: The poorly named sequel to Wreck It Ralph, in which Ralph and Venelope must travel to the internet to save Sugar Rush and keep the game characters from becoming homeless. It’s a fine follow up, but it definitely doesn’t have the same impact the first one did. There’s a heck of a lot going on in this movie, and it feels like it tried to do too much in terms of plot and character arcs in favor of sacrificing the humor from the first movie. And I really miss Felix and Calhoun. But there are a lot of good things about it too. Everything the Disney princesses do is pure gold, Shank is amazing, and there is a ton of effort put into building the world of the internet. I’m sure it will be pretty dated in a couple years, but it’s not just a quick cash grab full of name dropping and references (even though Disney seems like it wants it to be). It’s still worth checking out. 7.5/10

A Quiet Place: A family must survive in a world where deadly alien monsters that are attracted to sound have invaded the planet. I am the world’s biggest wimp when it comes to scary movies, and even I was interested enough in the premise to want to see this movie. And yes it’s amazing! The performances are all incredibly moving and believable, we get good representation of a Deaf character, the sound design is so creative it should be used in film classes, and it tells a thrilling and heart wrenching family story in only an hour and a half. I think I liked it because the focus wasn’t on the monsters just going around killing people. It’s about a family and what parents will do for their children. People like to say there’s a ton of plot holes, but if you actually think about them for more than five seconds, you’ll see there’s really nothing to pick apart because their decisions all make sense in the end.

My only question is about the cochlear device the daughter (Regan) uses. Was the dad (Lee) trying to make a new cochlear implant? Did Regan already have the internal component implanted in her cochlea? Had she been using one since before the monsters came? Did it break earlier because of the monsters’ connection with electromagnetic waves? Because if not...CIs don’t really work like that. I’m just confused about that situation. But that’s kind of nitpicky when this movie is still amazing. Even if you hate horror movies, I’d highly suggest it simply because of how creative its production is. 9/10

Mary Poppins Returns: It’s exactly what it sounds like...Mary Poppins returns to help the now adult children of the Banks family with the help of Lin Manuel Miranda. It’s fun, but it definitely goes on too long. Though I appreciate Emily Blunt putting her own spin on the character. Odds are if you like the original, you’ll probably like this too. 8/10

Fantastic Beasts- The Crimes of Grindelwald: The second movie in the Harry Potter prequel-verse, where Grindelwald basically becomes wizard Hitler and Newt is more concerned with winning Tina back then saving the world. Okay...this movie is not great. Structurally it’s a mess, the fun is being sucked out of the wizarding world, the characters make decisions that don’t align with previous behavior and make no logical sense, and there really is just the bare bones of a plot. There are also several characters that don’t need to be there and are just thrown in for fanservice (for now anyway). I found myself constantly saying how things don’t work like that and asking why things are happening. But even so, there are still good things about it. Visually it’s...fantastic. Jude Law makes a good young Dumbledore, and even Johnny Depp embodies what I always imagined Grindelwald at the height of his power would be like...I just wish it wasn’t Johnny Depp. I also wish it had more humor, because what was there was funny. It’s really just a transition film, which proves this franchise should never have been five movies, and Rowling should have focused on a Marauders era series or on young Dumbledore and Grindelwald. You just have to form your own opinion. 6.5/10

Maquia- When the Promised Flower Blooms: An immortal girl becomes a teen mom to an orphaned baby after her clan is killed. It’s basically a high fantasy version of Wolf Children. I honestly don’t know what to think about this movie. It does the family relationships so well and really drives home what it means to be a parent. However, its setting really throws me out of the movie because it tries to focus so much on the politics and background of this world without really succeeding. And because it is about a baby growing up, the pacing is so fast it will give you whiplash. But it is beautifully filmed and animated, and I would have bawled my eyes out at the ending if I wasn’t so distracted by how much I didn’t like the other characters and things that were happening at the castle. So...yeah, it’s a well animated, hard hitting movie that will probably mean more to parents overall. I just wish it was a TV series or a trilogy or something other than a two hour film. 7.5/10

Free Solo: A National Geographic documentary covering Alex Honnold, a man who is attempting to climb up the 900 meter side of El Capitan at Yosemite national park...without ropes or safety equipment. Yes, this is an incredible feat and the actual climbing portions are gripping and super intense. But personally, I found who Alex is as a person much more fascinating...and not necessarily in a positive way. Honestly, he can be a jerk. This sounds horrible to say considering he’s a real person and he’s doing something amazing, but seriously watch this movie and tell me this man is not one step away from being a sociopath. It’s completely understandable why he thinks the way he thinks, but it’s not exactly healthy for the other people in his life. I would be just as interested to see a two hour therapy session with him as I was with his climbing. Anyway, if you love gorgeous scenery and butt-clenching thrills with a side of psychologically interesting perspectives, watch this on the biggest screen possible. 8/10

The Matrix: REALITY IS AN ILLUSION, THE UNIVERSE IS A HOLOGRAM, BUY GOLD BYE

Yeah I’d never seen The Matrix, but I really didn’t expect it to be EXACTLY like the Oto arc in Tsubasa Chronicles. It’s too long, Neo’s an incredibly flat protagonist (but I feel like that’s on purpose to serve some sort of self-insert fantasy), and it seems like a YA dystopian fantasy series from 2013...but in an endearing sort of way. And hey it’s got a lot of cool slow motion fighting and neat body horror if you’re into that sort of thing. 7/10

Books!

Dry by Neal and Jarrod Shusterman: What happens when California literally just runs out of water one day? A group of teens go on an apocalyptic field trip to find some of course! I’ve only read one other Neal Shusterman series before, but I’m sensing a pattern of how well Shusterman can propose a theoretical question and then build an entire world around it. And this duo knows how to cover as many bases as possible because every time I ask a question about how something world work, the authors answer it almost immediately. This is a great story with very well written characters, and it even has a small hilarious twist in the end that makes you completely rethink everything about one of the characters. Most importantly it doesn’t follow the Scythe series’ formula of terribly written romance. However...it’s definitely a major bummer. It’s very interesting to think about, and it’s a roller coaster of a story...but the roller coaster only goes down and makes you want to scream all the time. If you like books that make you question human behavior and society, definitely check it out, but get ready to start hoarding all the water you own. 8/10

Jackass!: Okay this one’s a manga, but I’m still counting it. Honestly I don’t even know how to describe the plot...there’s two boys...there’s pantyhose...there’s a fun side character who is openly gay and doesn’t take shit from anyone...there’s introspection about how to deal with developing feelings and realizing you care about someone. It has the most awkward premise ever, but it’s unfairly good I promise. The less you know going in the better. 8.5/10

TV Shows!

The Umbrella Academy: A family of seven children with super powers who were “adopted” by an eccentric billionaire become child superheroes. So naturally, they all grow into jaded adults who are now tasked with saving the world from the inevitable apocalypse. And it’s...amazing. Like, this should be the new Stranger Things amazing. It’s a Netflix original based off the Dark Horse comic series, and it has one of the most binge worthy plots I’ve ever seen. It is capable of pulling off some very weird things because it just leans into it. The setting and aesthetic is very similar to A Series of Unfortunate Events where different time periods seem to collide, and it works pretty well. It has (mostly) likable characters, interesting and/or empathetic villains, great use of music and editing, and Emmy worthy performances. The only thing I don’t like (aside from them killing off a perfectly interesting character for no reason at the beginning of the show) is the romantic relationship between two of the siblings. Because naturally they had to put a romance in it, and it just sort of conforms to the idea of “adopted siblings aren’t related so it’s not weird.” But even they have some great scenes together so I can’t be too annoyed. It’s amazing. Please watch it. 10/10

Ducktales (2017): The reboot of Ducktales, in which the three nephews of Donald Duck go on mysterious adventures with their obscenely wealthy uncle. I’m pretty sure we all know this as the cartoon where Scrooge McDuck swims in his giant pool of money. It took me a long time to get to, but I like it! Webby is an amazing character, and even though the boys can be annoying, at least they all have their own personalities. I just wish Launchpad was a little less...stereotypically clueless. I’ve never seen the original series, so I can’t compare them, but I’d recommend it for everyone who likes Gravity Falls style mysteries and satisfying story arcs. 8.5/10

Carmen Sandiego (2019): The Netflix original animated series that focuses on a master thief who travels the world stealing important artifacts before an evil organization can get to them first...AND HOLY CRAP WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THIS!? I don’t know anything about the original Carmen Sandiego franchise, but dang this revamp is awesome. Carmen is a great character who banters enough to be a Marvel protagonist, there’s unique animation, some mystery, and its own twists. The side characters may not be for everyone, but I like them...well, most of them. Apparently the purpose of the original franchise was to be educational, so they do sound like they’re reading the Wikipedia page for every new place they visit in the beginning of each episode, but at least the cultural things they mention always come back into play later. If you liked the new She-Ra or shows with great heroines, PLEASE WATCH IT! 9/10

Queer Eye (season 3): The third season of the ridiculous makeover show where five fabulous gay men rocket into people’s lives to boost their self confidence and keep them from living in filth. I hate that I love this show so much. I don’t like things that try to be overly emotional, but dang it, this show will just make you feel happy...and then sad...and then happy again. 10/10

Honorable Mentions

THE LAST SEASON OF STAR VS THE FORCES OF EVIL IS AIRING! Stop sleeping on this gem people!

Netflix finally released the rest of Arrested Development season 5

I started watching Yu Yu Hakusho because it’s a classic and the dub is hilarious.

I also started watching The Librarians. It’s...something that’s for sure.

And I’m currently reading Reign the Earth which is basically Avatar the Last Airbender set all in the desert.

#bohemian rhapsody #the matrix #free solo #maquia: when the promised flower blooms #fantastic beasts #the crimes of grindelwald #mary poppins returns #a quiet place #ralph breaks the internet #how to train your dragon #the hidden world #dry #jackass manga #queer eye #ducktales #the umbrella academy #media madness #long post #carmen sandiego

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caroline-min-max · 5 years

Text

Two Timer

Caroline and the twins are in Arkham. An individual the three know all too well is also there and seems to have made serious progress in rehabilitation.

Supposedly it was a lovely day outside. Clear blue sky, warm weather, and some light breezes. It sounded like it would be a shame to waste it by staying indoors.

Caroline had no choice.

Good old Arkham Asylum again. Trapped inside until she could figure a way out or make an honest effort at rehabilitation (ha!). It was her home away from home that she hated to get accustomed to. She yearned to be free, away from the cramped cells and unwanted company of her fellow inmates.

Bunnies needed plenty of room and mental stimulation to stay happy and healthy. The staff should know this by now. Normally a hobby that she loved, Caroline was glumly putting together a puzzle during the time she was allowed outside of her cell. Thanks to her last escape she likely wouldn’t be allowed outdoors for a very long time.

At least they got her a new puzzle... This one should hopefully have all of the pieces. She sighed as she combed through the pieces in the box, pulling out the frame ones to put together first and setting them on the small table she was seated at. No matter the puzzle her approach was always the same.

“Hm?!” Caroline was startled by the sound of chair being placed in front of the table. She looked up, even more surprised by who was joining her. “Mr. Dent!” she exclaimed.

“Caroline,” Two Face replied with a nod. He knew that the two empty chairs that resided close to Caroline were being saved for two particular individuals.

A delighted smile spread across Caroline’s face. Two Face had been calling her by her first name regularly these days, an event that used to be quite rare. Thanks to his therapy sessions it seemed that the “Harvey Dent” side of Two Face was winning the battle between his split personalities.

She could feel it in his presence as well. His body language wasn’t so stiff, he hadn’t crossed his arms, and his eyes seemed softer as he looked at her. He was almost the man that she’d met all those years ago when he tried to put a case together for those responsible for turning her into a rabbit.

“I don’t suppose you want to help me put this together?” Caroline asked as she set the box on the table. She was only kidding, her relaxed ears popping up in surprise when Two Face grabbed a pile of pieces to root through, noticing what she was doing. “You’re in a good mood,” she said happily with a smile.

“Grace is coming to visit me today,” Two Face answered as he placed two frame pieces he found in the middle of the table. Once he’d decided to stay in Arkham to truly take steps to push back his ‘Big Bad Harvey’ personality her visits with Bruce Wayne had become weekly. “They think that I’ve made enough progress in therapy to have surgery.”

To get rid of the Two Face personality? Caroline wanted to ask. She knew that the Two Face side of him had sabotaged a surgery attempt before and she didn’t want any careless words to upset him.

“For...?” Instead Caroline pointed at the side of her face that corresponded with Two Face’s “bad” side.

Two Face looked over at her, nodding when he realized what she was asking.

“I’m really happy for you,” Caroline said genuinely. It had been years now since the accident that made him like this. It had to be hell for him... She couldn’t even imagine what it was like to have two personalities fighting for control of one body.

Harvey Dent had done so much harm as Two Face Caroline wondered if he’d even be accepted back into normal society, if people could understand it wasn’t really him who committed all those atrocities. It was lucky that Grace and Bruce Wayne had stuck by him; otherwise Caroline wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get through all this alone.

“You should make use of your therapy sessions,” Two Face remarked.

Caroline sighed. “I thought those were supposed to be confidential.”

“You have to actually say something in confidence first.”

Typical... Those sneaks were trying to use Two Face to make her spill her guts, huh? They sure liked to keep track and monitor the relationship the Gotham Rouges had with one another.

“This seems a little odd coming from the man who largely made me who I am today,” Caroline replied with a small snicker. Her smirk faded when she saw the guilt that washed over Two Face’s features.

“I wasn’t the one who did that, Caroline,” Two Face replied.

“I suppose not...” Caroline acknowledged. The voice that was coming out of the man seated in front of her wasn’t the gruff, gravelly one she’d grown so used to. It was softer in tone and had a hint of warmth to it.

...Maybe she was going to miss Two Face when all was said and done. She sadly realized he’d been a part of her life even longer than Harvey Dent was.

“So let me give you give you some better advice now.” Part of reforming for Two Face was while he understood his violent personality wasn’t who he really was he still had to take responsibility for those actions. Trying to set Caroline on the right path was his way of trying to make amends with one of his biggest mistakes. “Start opening up in therapy. Tell them what happened to you. Let them help you let go of all that anger and live a normal life while you wait for them to find a way to fix you.”

“I haven’t gotten my revenge yet and I don’t need to be ‘fixed’!” Caroline snapped, scowling. “YOU had a good life before your accident. I was getting my ass pinched at a scummy nightclub for their pocket change and then, after this happened,” she said as she grabbed one of her ears for a moment for emphasis. “Just as I thought things were looking up I found out I couldn’t even be a veterinarian because apparently how I smell freaks out most animals now. I have no reason to start trying to be a good girl again.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed.” It was a miracle that she hadn’t been already. Despite her small size she was bold and reckless; it was bound to get her into serious trouble someday. “Is it because of those idiots?” Caroline seemed to call the shots in their relationship but he worried if Min and Max pressured her committing crime sprees. He’d come to know them as the money hungry duo too stupid to pull off any major thefts on their own.

“No, and please don’t call them that,” Caroline answered sharply.

“If they cared about you they’d get jobs and let you stay at home.” If Caroline didn’t want to work there was no reason why the twins couldn’t support her. Maybe they even had enough cashed stashed away where it wouldn’t be an issue.

“I suppose I’ll sound just as delusional as Harley but they care about me more than you’ll ever know. We’ve been through so much together and, if I did want to go straight, they’d go along with it. We’re good as we are, Mr. Dent. Focus on your own recovery and leave me be. I appreciate what you did for me but I don’t need your guidance anymore.”

Caroline turned her attention to over Two Face’s shoulder when she notice two more familiar faces, completely identical to each other, approaching the table. They were hesitant to do so, walking slowly and stopping when they were right behind Two Face. They looked to Caroline for guidance on what to do. They’d noticed she seemed to be having a rather serious conversation with him.

“Have a seat, boys,” Caroline welcomed.

Min and Max continued towards the chairs Caroline saved for them. They pulled them back to sit down on, each taking a turn at giving her a quick kiss once they had. They’d missed their rabbit just as much as she’d missed them.

Two Face shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the sight. Caroline could do so much better than his former lackeys. It was yet another thing he blamed himself for since he caused Caroline to meet the twins.

“Are we interrupting?” Max asked.

Caroline shook her head. “Dad was just lecturing me.”

“How old do you think I am?!” Two Face asked as he thumped his fist on the table, making the laid out puzzle pieces bounce slightly.

“Oh... I don’t know...” Caroline pretended to think about it. “Fifty? Fifty-five?” she teased with a grin.

“You little brat...” Two Face replied before chuckling. If Caroline ever did start down the right path again he hoped that the confidence she’d gained as the White Rabbit would stick with her. She’d never have had the guts to joke with him like this before.

Min and Max glanced across Caroline at one another. What was going on here? Two Face was... Laughing? And smiling? They’d never seen their former boss like this. It was true that his friendship with Caroline had been completely mended for awhile now but he’d never behaved like this when they’d talked in Arkham.

One of the guards approached their table.

“There’s visitors for you, Harvey,” he said.

“Tell Grace I say ‘Hi’,” Caroline said as Two Face started to stand.

“Why don’t you tell her yourself?” Two Face offered. Grace hadn’t seen Caroline in all these years. Maybe having their connection rekindled would help in the younger woman seeing things his way.

Caroline’s ears fell as she smiled sadly. “I don’t think that would be fair to her.” She’d never say it to anyone but she was shocked that Grace had hung in there for all these years. Dealing with all of Two Face’s relapses couldn’t be easy and the last thing she wanted was to stress Grace out even more by showing her what she’d become. “I really do hope that you’re well on your way to stop meeting me like this.” She extended her hand, which Two Face reached forward and grasped in his.

Two Face looked deep into Caroline’s eyes and saw the fierceness of a woman who wasn’t done fighting. All the kindness, gentleness, and fear she had when she was younger was nowhere to be found. While his Harvey Dent personality wavered in and out the Caroline White he’d initially met seemed to be completely gone.

“Goodbye, Caroline...” Two Face said rather sadly.

“See you around, Mr. Dent,” Caroline replied, a little confused as to why his words sounded so final. She let go of his hand.

The trio silently watched Two Face be escorted away by the guard.

“What’s with Two Face?” Min asked, bewildered.

Caroline took a moment to respond, mulling over exactly what she wanted to say. “He’s finally getting his personalities sorted out,” she answered. “It’s good for him but it’s why I’ve warned the two of you not to say a word to the shrinks when they force us to meet with them. They WILL get inside our heads and start to influence how we think. We’re fine as we are.”

“Sure, Caroline!” Max replied.

“We don’t tell them nothin’!” Min assured.

Caroline was glad to hear it. She’d been worried about the sorts of doubts and ideas the therapists here would try to instill in the twins. She especially hated how they liked to use their relationship with her as a weakness.

There hadn’t been any therapy appointments for awhile, not since Caroline decided to mess with them and use the plots to books she’d read to lie about her life. She’d been found out and the profiles the psychiatrists had painstakingly put together were all thrown out.

“Well then...” With that sorted out Caroline felt it would be ideal to change the subject. “Did you boys go outside at all? I hate that I’m grounded; I heard that it’s nice out.”

“There’s a storm that’s starting to roll in,” Min replied.

Caroline seemed happy to hear that. “No loss, then! Have you two heard anything interesting while cooped up?”

The three continued to chitchat as the twins started to help Caroline with her puzzle. It was what they usually wound up doing, enjoying the time they were able to see and touch one another before it would be back to their cells again.

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Boredom taking hold of her in her cell, Caroline was dozing. She’d been laying on her back, gazing up at the ceiling on her bed, once again wishing she could be at home. Still without a solid plan to escape her eyelids had begun to droop. Just as sleep was hitting her she was startled by the sound of her cell opening.

Caroline shot upright, shocked to see Min and Max standing in front of her cell. Max had a key card in his hand and his eyes on her while Min was watching their backs for any guards with a gun in his hand. Seeing what was going on, the other female inmates were begging to be let out as well but the twins felt they had no time to help them.

Before her cell had completely opened Caroline ducked under the rising door.

“How did you two-” Caroline began, being cut off by the sound of an escape alarm going off. She winced from how loud it was.

“Later!” Min answered as he started running forwards, urging her to follow him and Max.

Caroline should have known better there wasn’t time to dawdle. She’d just been so surprised that the twins had managed to bust her out of her cell seemingly through their own volition rather than something she’d thought up.

As she followed them she became more and more puzzled as to how they’d pulled this off. As they ran past the hallway that led down to the men’s ward she noticed some incapacitated staff members on the floor starting to be tended to by other Arkham employees. This sort of destruction and havoc didn’t seem like something Min and Max could do by themselves.

They dashed out an emergency exit door that had already been busted open. There it started to make sense to Caroline when she saw Two Face in the process of hot wiring a car he’d broken into but led into another puzzlement.

“Mr. Dent, what are you doing?!” Caroline exclaimed as she ran up to the driver’s side just as he got the engine started. “I thought that you were going to-”

“SHUT UP AND GET IN THE CAR, WHITE!” Two Face thundered, some of his spittle hitting Caroline’s face.

“B-but...” Caroline stammered as she stepped back in alarm. What had happened to the man she’d recently shared such friendly moment with?

The twins needed to gently guide Caroline into the back seat with them; she was frozen in place from how scary and furious Two Face looked. It was a wonder that he’d even sprung Min and Max when he was in such a state.

Min had barely shut the door when Two Face floored it, a sharp turn making his passengers slam into one another as they were thrown to the left side of the vehicle.

“Are you you alright, Caroline?” Max asked as he quickly scooted back.

“Yeah...” she answered as the three of them quickly buckled their seat belts to avoid that happening again, Two Face showing no signs of slowing down. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d been smooshed in-between the twins but it was never so forcefully. “Mr. Dent, why are you breaking out?!” she tried again.

“It’s like you said, White...” Two Face replied gruffly, keeping his eyes on the road as they cleared the Arkham grounds, foot still glued to the accelerator. “I have to get my revenge and I don’t need to be fixed!”

“Wh...” Caroline’s brow furrowed in confusion. Did something happen? Or was this... Was this her fault? “Is this because of Rupert Thorne?” she guessed.

“They thought they could trick me and stab me in the back! I’ll show them!” Two Face was talking more to himself than to Caroline, fixated on how he was going to get back at his former best friend.

Although she was still in the dark Caroline wasn’t going to let Two Face throw away all the progress he made. Maybe it wasn’t too late. She unbuckled her seat belt and lunged forward, grabbing at the steering wheeling.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Two Face shouted in alarm.

“Stop the car!” Caroline begged. She wanted to swerve the car into a ditch but couldn’t budge the wheel at all. Two Face was much stronger than her. “Please!” she said desperately.

Two Face roughly elbowed Caroline in the face, making her yelp and recoil back into her seat. “Keep her back there or I’ll throw all three of you out!” he shouted back at the twins.

The twins said nothing, looking over Caroline’s face instead to see if there were any visible injuries. Two Face struck her cheek which would likely wind up swollen and bruised later but it could have been worse. Their former boss was back to how they remembered him.

“Min,” Caroline whispered. “Your gun...” If Two Face wasn’t going to listen maybe she could make him stop by force.

“No way!” Min whispered back. “He has one too.”

“He already hit you, Caroline,” Max replied, re-buckling Caroline’s seat belt for her to keep her somewhat restrained.

Both Min and Max were furious that Caroline had been injured but being inside a speeding car wasn’t exactly the best of settings to fight back in. They felt it was best to comply with Two Face this time for their own well being and to avoid Caroline being hurt anymore.

Once they were back in Gotham Two Face stopped the car in an area he thought would safe for three recently escaped Arkham patients. No was around and he remembered the White Rabbit had a hideout around here. He ordered the three of them out of the car and took off again immediately.

“What happened?!” Caroline quickly asked, grabbing on to Min and Max’s sleeves.

“We don’t know!” Min answered. “He attacked the guards, grabbed his gun, and a key card. My cell was right next to his so he let me out and gave me card. All he said was ‘Get White and your brother fast; I won’t wait for you’.”

“You don’t have any idea where he’s going?”

The twins shook their heads.

Caroline turned to look in the direction that Two Face had driven off in, shoulders slumped and ears flat. “Then... I guess all we can do is be glad he decided to spring us too. Poor Mr. Dent... I wish I knew why...” It couldn’t have all been because of her, right? She’d made it clear their circumstances were different. She had encouraged him to return to his own life.

The twins placed comforting hands on Caroline’s shoulders.

“Lets go home, Caroline,” Max said gently. “We should get ice on your cheek.”

“Yeah...” Caroline reluctantly agreed. That’s all they could do for now. Maybe later they could find some of the men Two Face liked to recruit and see if they knew anything at all.

Regardless, it was another failed attempt. Caroline felt in her heart it was likely Two Face’s final chance after all these years. If he could come that close just for his other personality to win again all hope seemed lost.

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eldritchsurveys · 5 years

Text

153.

[[ Random Survey Questions // By x-hallie-x]]

1. Have you ever been in an unconventional relationship (long distance, polyamorous, same gender, age gap, etc)? if so, what challenges did this relationship present, and were they worth overcoming? >> I’ve been in all of the examples presented. The challenges remain the same across the board -- communication errors and competing access needs.

2. Would you ever consider something like a poly relationship, assuming everyone involved was alright with it? What are some things you think you would or wouldn’t like about it? >> My relationship is already non-monogamous, although neither of us is actively seeing anyone else in meatspace currently. (”Polyapathetic” is the word I use for it sometimes, lol.) There isn’t anything I don’t like about it.

3. What is the most unhealthy relationship (whether friendship or romantic) you’ve ever had? What made it so unhealthy? Do you still talk to each other? >> Probably the one with the creator of this survey, incidentally. I used to not say anything for the sake of “not causing drama”, but I see where I did myself a disservice in the attempt of doing him a service, one that I don’t necessarily owe him after what he put me through. People can make their own decisions about whether to be friends or lovers with him, after all, and it’s not like I’m running around telling people not to be friends or lovers with him. By all means, if y’all get along, I’m actually glad. He’s sorely in need of healthy interaction, he just definitely can’t get it from me. It was unhealthy because for me he was excessively clingy, demanding, and emotionally manipulative, whereas my attachment style is distant and avoidant, and neither of those styles work well together except, I’d imagine, in unique cases (probably aided by therapy, tbh). He made great demands upon my time and energy and made me feel like I wasn’t allowed to reclaim that time and energy. And so on and so forth. 4. Have you ever been abusive in any way? Were you able to change or make amends, or, in general, what do you think people should do to make amends in that situation? >> I don’t think I’ve been abusive. I know I’ve been accused of being such, and I wouldn’t argue with it because that... doesn’t solve the problem. But from my point of view, having repeatedly educated myself on what abusive behaviour looks like, I can’t see myself fitting into that model. I’ve been unhelpful, reactive, aloof/distant, and callous -- but not abusive. I think the best way to make amends for abusive behaviour is to change one’s behaviour. And change it consistently. And, most importantly, realise that the person you hurt is under no obligation to forgive you or let you back into their lives. If they do, great -- do not squander their forgiveness. If they don’t, that’s their right. You still owe it to yourself, and the people who are in your life, to be better.

5. Have you ever forgiven someone for being abusive or allowed someone toxic back into your life? Did this person change for the better or not? >> Yeah. No.

6. Do you feel like your age matches your emotional development? If not, what age level or maturity level do you feel best represents where you’re at? >> I don’t know, because I’m not sure how that’s measured. I just am where I am, and am doing my damn best. 7. Do you feel like you’re lagging behind your peers in terms of development or do you feel that you’re more ahead of the bunch? >> I think I’m supposed to see myself as “lagging behind”, but that’s all bullshit. I just am where I am, like I said. 8. What is one thing about your personality that embarrasses you, but you can’t seem to change it no matter how hard you try? Have other people called you out on this embarrassing thing? >> I don’t know, really. It embarrasses me to want attention and reassurance and solace, but I don’t think that’s like, a personality trait that needs changing. I’m just embarrassed about it because I was taught to be. 9. When was the last time you did something “meant” for children? Do you think it’s okay for adults to do these things (ie. watch cartoons, have stuffed animals, dress in cute clothing, etc), or do you think there’s an age beyond which it becomes unacceptable - and if so, why? >> Man, I do and enjoy a lot of things that people who’ve bought into the bullshit would say is “for children”. If you seriously believe it’s unacceptable for an adult to do something as fucking benign as watch cartoons or sleep with a teddy bear, then your opinion ain’t worth squat to me anyway. 10. What was the last thing to “trigger” you (as in, in a true mental health sense, I’m being serious here) and how did you cope with it? What kinds of things do you tend to find triggering? What do you do either avoid or face your triggers? >> I don’t remember. I don’t often acknowledge my triggers when they actually occur, which is a separate issue. 11. If you’re diagnosed with anything, do you feel that it accurately represents what you’re experiencing? >> I don’t know what my diagnosis is. I’ve been diagnosed as a number of things over the years, either because of incompetent mental health professionals or a lack of transparency on my part (but most often an awful combination of both). I think any “disorder” I have would have to be a developmental or neurological one, because a lot of who I am has been like this for as long as I can remember (and has only been exacerbated by events that happened later). 12. What is a complaint you have about the mental health industry or about the type of treatment you’ve received from a mental health service? Have you ever had any particularly bad therapy experiences? >> One complaint is that a lot of mental health professionals don’t... like, do the work. They’ll just see someone once or twice and go “oh you clearly have [x]” just based upon some cursory questioning and observation. That’s not logical or ethical to me. I’ve had so many negative experiences in MH that at this point I now have trauma related to that -- which makes it a fucking riot to try to go to therapy! “Hi, first you’ll have to work through my trauma related to therapists before we can get down to the actual therapy.” Ha! 13. When was the last time you realized you might be the source of a problem and NOT someone else? >> Actually, I usually take that possibility under advisement (it’s an awkward but sometimes useful side effect of having been treated as a scapegoat). Unfortunately, sometimes I’m not the problem, and I have a hard time really convincing myself that no, I didn’t necessarily do anything to deserve the treatment I got.

14. In an average week, how often do you leave the house? Generally, how many miles would you say you travel in that time? >> Usually on the weekends because we go grocery shopping and down to Wayland to do laundry. During the week, maybe once or twice, on a good week. There’s really just nowhere to go. 15. Have you ever made a mistake or did something you were too embarrassed or ashamed to tell anyone else? Did you eventually tell anyone? Did their reaction help you feel better or worse about your secrets? >> Probably, but I don’t remember any specific examples. 16. Do you think you’re easy to open up to or do people confide in you often? >> No, I’m apparently not easy to open up to because people generally don’t. I guess. I don’t know how any of this shit works. 17. When was the last time you felt accomplished? When was the last time you felt like you failed at something? >> I don’t remember the last time I felt accomplished. I mean, I remember the last time I did something that I needed to do, but I didn’t feel better once it was over. I guess that’s part of why it’s so difficult for me to do things I need to do but don’t want to -- I don’t get the reward feedback from my own brain afterwards. >:| 18. When was the last time you worked really hard on something only to have it get ruined in some way? Did you start over and try again, or did you give up entirely? >> I don’t remember. I haven’t put that much effort into anything lately. 19. What are some minor physical discomforts that really bug you (eyelash in your eye, a wedgie, rumpled socks, etc)? >> All of the above, and also dry skin and chapped lips. 20. Are you prone to talking during shows? Does it bother you if other people talk? Is there someone you know with a television-watching style so different to yours that you can’t stand to watch with them? >> I’m not prone to it, necessarily, but if I’m with someone who doesn’t mind it or also does it, then I’ll do it. I can go either way. Except when it’s a show that requires a lot of focus, then I need it to be quiet. And I don’t like watching things with people that just like to make negative commentary like they’re a movie critic or something. 21. Are you ever afraid to admit to liking something because you’re afraid other people will judge you for it? What is the worst that’s ever happened as a result of you liking something different from the crowd? What about the best thing that’s come as a result of a unique interest? >> I mean, being judged for things I like has been happening for so long that I’m mostly just used to it. But sometimes if I’m really excited about something, or in a certain mood, I won’t talk about it because if someone says one negative thing I’m going to fucking explode on them, lmao. Let people fucking like things, god damn. I don’t know what the worst thing is, but this is kind of funny in retrospect (but in the moment it was hella aggravating): when I was in high school I was really obsessed with the band Creed, and as we all know, Creed was Nickelback before Nickelback existed as far as popular opinion goes. So on the school bus, the kids at the back of the bus would sing that song Higher in the most exaggerated voices possible to heckle me. SMH. 22. If someone judges you, are you more inclined to react defensively, offensively, or indifferently? Do you often judge other people in an overt way, or do you keep most of your judgments to yourself? >> I’m either defensive or indifferent depending on what mood I’m already in and who the person is. I actually make an effort not to judge what other people are into or what kind of people they are, because I feel like it’s an improper and rude way for me to spend my time. Also, Golden Rule. 23. What kind of image, if any, do you hope you project to the world? Like, what qualities do you hope other people are able to see in you? Do you ever feel like you’re coming across all wrong? >> I don’t know what kind of image I want to project. I’m not sure I care about that as much as I care about being valuable to individuals that I want to be valuable to. And one person might value one thing about me while another person might value a completely different thing, so I can’t just pick a trait or two and say “these are the valuable traits”. It’s all relative. And yeah, I feel like my intentions and my actions don’t match up a whole lot, mostly because of the 5966589 layers of trauma-based behaviour I’m operating through. But, you know. It be like that. 24. When was the last time you felt like someone was completely misunderstanding your feelings or intentions? Were you eventually able to explain and clarify? How do you react when you feel seriously misunderstood? >> Constantly, lmao. I don’t remember the last specific example, though. Sometimes I get an opportunity to explain and clarify, but honestly, a lot of the times I don’t even bother because I assume the person either doesn’t care or won’t understand. I usually shut down or withdraw when I feel intensely misunderstood. 25. Have you ever remained good friends with an ex? >> I tried it, it didn’t work. Only with Anubis, who I only dated for like a month and a half anyway. 26. What was the last reason you decided you didn’t want to do something? >> Probably poor executive function, as usual. Or low confidence. 27. What is something about you that makes you feel very different from other people (and I don’t mean like a food preference like pineapple on pizza, i mean core level different, where you can’t find this quality in many others)? >> You know, I’m not sure. Because I do feel intensely alienated and not at all like other people sometimes, but all my traits and experiences taken individually are traits and experiences I’ve seen elsewhere. I know other people who have shared consciousnesses, and even people who interact with their inworlders similarly to how I interact with mine. I know that my terribly broken attachment style and inability to connect is not uncommon, especially among other people who were also emotionally neglected as children. And I know that the feeling of alienation, of feeling Very Different from others, is equally common -- many of us feel that way, and we all have well-worked-out justifications for that feeling. But, really? I really believe that’s just part of being alive and sapient. And it’s a foundation for art -- trying to find a means to connect with someone, anyone, when we don’t feel like it’s ever going to be possible. 28. Do you have a negative view of mentally ill people, or are you mentally ill yourself? Do you ever call others crazy, insane, etc? Do you ever call yourself those things? >> I don’t have a negative view of mentally-ill people, although I unfortunately am often driven to have a negative view of myself for being mentally-ill. Stupid brains. I do call myself crazy and insane but “mad” is actually my preferred adjective. I try not to use those terms for others unless they’re explicitly okay with it and I’m fucking around with them or something (which is still an iffy thing, but you know). 29. What is one way you often put yourself down? What is one compliment you often give yourself? Do you think you compliment or insult yourself more? >> I put myself down about being an intensely lonely and vulnerable person, because that makes total sense, right? SMH. I also put myself down for being sensitive to noise and light and all that other stuff that I really can’t control even though I wish I could. And for other random shit that I can’t remember just now. I don’t usually compliment myself a lot, but Can Calah does that work for me, which is one reason why I’m intensely grateful for him -- someone’s gotta do it in order to teach me how to do it to myself, and he seems more than up for the task. It’s a pretty common thing inworld -- I berate myself for something, and he counters with impeccable logic and compassion. Never fails. 30. Does it bother you to have people comment on what you’re eating, or do you not care? What are some comments that would bother you, if any? Do you ever comment on what other people are eating or make assumptions about their intakes? >> People don’t usually comment on what I’m eating. I’m not even sure what someone could say that would bother me -- maybe making fun of me for not cooking full meals all the time, or something, in which case fuck right off. I don’t comment on what other people eat, that’s none of my business and I actually don’t even fucking care. Eat whatever you like, it’s your life and your body and your business.

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