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least-carpet · 4 months

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No, no, but now I want to read your ideas about how wwx is set to an implosion in 1-3 years. How do you get him there? In canon, he needed jyl's death, the wen siblings death, the world against him

Another neglected anon! Sorry for the late response and happy new year!

I actually think what we saw in terms of Wei Wuxian's devolution after Jiang Yanli's death qualifies as an explosion rather than an implosion, i.e. the force was directed outwards from the centre and killed whoever was in the blast radius. I don't think he'll do that.

I do think we see him implode earlier than that though, in the post-war period, where he drinks excessively (to the point that Wen Qing comments on it), he's unreliable, his moods are volatile, he self-isolates, etc.

To be fair, a certain amount of this is related to not having a golden core and practising demonic cultivation. However, I also tend to read it as a reaction to his war trauma, since self-medicating is a pretty normal response to surviving horrifying events?

Let me be clear that I don't think he always used alcohol like this—I think his partying as a teenager became a problem in adulthood. I think that was always a risk for him for a variety of reasons (we know that he survived becoming a homeless orphan and doesn't remember big chunks of his childhood, which tends to indicate trauma) but I don't think we see it happen until after the war, during which he saw and did some buckwild shit. I also don't know that he ever developed a physical dependence on alcohol, just that his post-war alcohol use looks pretty dysfunctional given its context and all the other choices he was making.

So. Given what we know about:

his behaviour in the post-war period;

his behaviour immediately post-resurrection, specifically that we see him desperately trying to avoid people, places, and situations that make him remember traumatic events from his first life;

his partner, specifically that Lan Wangji doesn't have a real barometer for what "normal" drinking looks like, and also has a tendency to enable Wei Wuxian;

where his partner lives, the extremely calm and controlled Cloud Recesses, where everything is on a strict schedule, therefore predictable and regular, and many activities Wei Wuxian likes are just not allowed—

We have a scenario where a person who thrives in exciting situations and likes working under pressure is living in place that is quiet, regular, and predictable. He is not supposed to drink there, but has a spouse who's willing to smuggle in as much alcohol as he wants. He has thus far throughout the story distracted himself from processing a long series of very traumatic events, and has only been willing to be in relationship with people who can't or won't hold him accountable. All of those feelings are waiting to explode out of the closet he's stuffed them in and fall on his head. And now he's often in a place where there's nothing fun to do...

Like, I think that it might take a minute, since the euphoria of new love will at least provide, you know, some positive feelings, which are their own distraction. (Plus all the sex! And night-hunting!) And Lan Wangji has many qualities that make him a real support to Wei Wuxian, and that might get him through that inevitable post-honeymoon period of quiet where all his feelings pop out and come for him. But I don't think that's going to be a fun experience for anyone?

TL;DR I think eventually he will have to stop running away and actually think about what he's lost, and we know what he does with Bad Feelings he doesn't want (excessive drinking, avoidance, withdrawal from loved ones). Grief and shame are gonna get you every time!

#anon asks #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #mdzs +#least-carpet thoughts #asks

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dollsome-does-tumblr · 1 year

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quick ramble about today’s ep; a post entirely devoid of coherence or sense--

not me being like “THE DRENCHED THING IS BECAUSE TED ICONICALLY SPAT SPARKLING WATER ALL OVER HER, AS REFERENCED EARLIER THIS SEASON!!!!!!! THE WHITE KNIGHTING!!!!! BEING HENRY’S STEPMOM!!!!!!!!” (i can’t actually remember specifically what was said, my brains are too scrambled.)

i can’t believe they brought psychics into this, making cryptic probably-romantic pronouncements, and now i have to suffer for the rest of this season and possibly my life

I DON’T KNOW HOW TO GO ON

I ALSO DON’T KNOW HOW TO GO ON IF THEY DON’T HAVE A SCENE TOGETHER SOON OF SOME EMOTIONAL SIGNIFICANCE. maybe next week because 1.04 was such a big episode for them?? i don’t know! i don’t knowwwww anymooooooooore!!!!!

(also, my bf was wondering if rebecca might be pregnant from her relationship with sam and now i’m terrified. it’s been too long since they were together, right?? i’m a little unclear on how much time has passed since they broke up. and i’ve still got my gilmore girls ayitl residual trauma over this subject.)

also this episode was good and full of compelling stuff in general, it’s just that i can only be driven to actual words about this show when i’m having my ted/rebecca anxieties!

also i can’t believe that michelle is dating their old marriage counselor and i really need ted to tell rebecca this because i think rebecca would be GREAT at being REALLY PISSED OFF & INDIGNANT on his behalf. please! i need them to become divorce buddies already! please!!!!!!! i’m wasting away over here watching ted go through all of this without her!!!!!!!

(at this stage, a weird little part of me is like, “did ted and rebecca have some sort of drunken hook-up in between seasons 1 and 2 and the show just never told us and that’s why they’re so removed from each other onscreen?” or is ted maybe hanging onto some resentment or discomfort over rebecca’s original evil plan? does the show just think they’re not interesting enough as a combo of humans to have scenes together and they’re like ‘yikes, better not give them any substantial screentime together’? is that why they’ve pivoted so far away from having them have the kinds of scenes they shared in s1? WHAT IS IT??????? i feel like there must be a reason, but not knowing the reason for such a long time is really tormenting my shippy psyche. can’t believe i’m on this rollercoaster again until may! HELP!!!!!!)

#dollsome's deep thoughts #ted lasso #ted lasso spoilers #ted x rebecca

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bihansthot · 3 months

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My little ham is being extremely cuddly tonight and I am very here for it, I was very sad earlier because I can’t remember what Jäger smells like anymore. I find myself smelling Denny often hoping I won’t forget him too. For some reason I’ve been thinking a lot about Jäger’s final moments lately which prompts trying to remember what he smelled like, what he felt like and I just can’t remember, all of those memories are wrapped up and laced with so much sadness and trauma I just can’t separate them. I don’t know what’s bringing these feelings back up lately, maybe because I haven’t been feeling well and have been unhappy because I feel unwell. I need a nice distraction and neither of the guys I’ve been seeing are providing it. Maybe I need a hobby? Writing seems too constricting lately and not fun. I’ve been thinking about crocheting again but a) I have to learn again which no biggie YouTube taught me when my niece was born 15 years ago, it can teach me again, b) I have no clue what to make? I’d make something for Denny but he has so many clothes lol I guess he can always use more? Maybe cute hats like Good Boy Ollie has? Denny deserves all the cute clothes and hats, he’s such a good baby. I don’t deserve him.

In non depressing dog stuff I made some video game resolutions for the year that I’m not sure I’ll accomplish. If you’ve followed me for a very long time you know I also love Soulsborne games, I’ve beaten DS3 and Elden Ring but my resolution is to beat the DLC for DS3, I want to beat Malenia and Placidusax in Elden Ring and finally play Bloodborne. I’ve never played Bloodborne despite absolutely loving it. The problem is I haven’t touched DS3 since I beat it so I can’t remember how to play it and Elden Ring I’m reasonably confident I can beat Placidusax but Malenia woof waterfowl dance am I right? THB I had enough health to tank most of it if I could avoid at least one but it’s her stage two form scarlet rot dive bomb that killed me. Admittedly I’ve only tried Malenia 2 or 3 times, my partner got Let Me Solo Her themselves to beat Malenia for them. I don’t know where to start though, I have to restart them all from the beginning because I’m on PS5 now, I guess I should go in order? So Bloodborne first? I’m so scared though everything is so fast 😭 I’m a big dumb, clunky over level and use the biggest axe in the game type player and I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep up. I don’t know if I can do the DLC I don’t know if I can beat Lady Maria or the Orphan of Kos but I guess I’ll try. Wish me luck y’all, I’m not embarking back into Soulsborne until I 100% Season of the Cryomancer though and of course this will have no bearing on my MK lust/content or anything, I don’t really have Soulsborne husbandos/waifus though I guess there’s boy Anri and Vicar Amelia (yes I’m a monster fucker, deal with it) oh oh and my precious stingray boyfriend Lorian, I don’t write for any of them or self ship with any of them so there will still be lots of dumb egg jokes. Don’t worry I’m in no way taking a break from MK I’m just indulging in another franchise I love deeply too, multitasking. So I guess just a heads up that there may be an influx of rage posts about Soulsborne bosses lol Or me professing my endless love for Greirat and Boc lol Will I ever go back to Baldur’s Gate 3?? Who knows! Probably not tbh I don’t like anyone other than Gribbo and Scratch not to mention I’ve seen my partner put just hours into it. I’ve seen the game and maybe I’m just bad at it but it’s just not fun for me which is why I’m going back to Soulsborne games lol I’ll tag my posts with “Soulsborne” if you don’t wanna see my rambling about the games though but like I said I promise I will still be all MK all the time after all it’s my true love ❤️

This has been a pointless Sol rambles, thanks for reading 🩵

#dogs are the best #tw pet loss #we don’t deserve dogs #soulsborne #new year resolutions #gaming #sol rambles

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bougiebutchbitch · 2 years

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Just saw your post about Kakashi secretly resenting Gai for sacrificing himself in the 4th war. If I may throw an idea your way (because I adore your kakagai content!):

Maybe you've addressed this arc in the past before and i haven't seen it but. I actually think a similar conflict would've come up much earlier in the series- namely when Gai vowed to kill himself if Lee died from surgery during the chunin exams.

It's been awhile since I've watched so I can't remember if Kakashi was even aware of Gai making this vow in the first place. But if he knew about it...

Wow. WOW. Imagine how freaking betrayed Kakashi must've felt, having Gai practically force himself into Kakashi's life throughout their adolescent years. To have opened his heart to another person despite the endless losses he'd suffered only for Gai to (potentially) throw his life away. Not in battle as a shinobi, not to save a comrade.. just. To honour his student. And this is not even touching upon the potential parallels that can be drawn between Gai and Sakumo in this scenario.... big yikes.

I think it would've been an absolutely HUGE turning point in their relationship. I'd really love to hear any additional thoughts you might have on it, if you're interested. No pressure to respond though, haha. :)

OW!!!!!!!!!!!! OW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you, I needed to cry today.

First up - you are 1000% correct. Gai's plan to commit suicide if Lee dies... buddy, that's not okay. I know he and Lee are supposed to be like... this jokey exaggerated spoof of dedicated Master & Student who are way too fired-up and passionate about everything, but c'mon, holy shit.

Gai has such an interesting relationship with self-sacrifice as a form of nobility and mAsCuLiNiTy and devotion - whereas for Kakashi, anyone else's self-sacrifice is a source of trauma and horror. But his own? He's more than willing. He's still wayyyyyyyyy too eager for die for others, even at the start of Naruto and throughout Shippuden.

Yet there's something numb about his sacrifices. From pleading with the kids to run away and leave him at Zabuza's mercy, to his literal death in the Pain arc, to him throwing himself in front of Sasuke to take Kaguya's attack without any hesitation... It's not big and dramatic and showy. It's in-the-moment choices, quick and decisive. I get the sense he's almost always ready to die for someone else - perhaps as an immensely fucked-up way of assuaging his own survivor's guilt, or because he still genuinely sees himself as someone who has inherently less human worth than everyone around him.

In contrast, Gai greatly idolises his father, to an unhealthy degree when it comes to following in his footsteps. For him, the ultimate display of love is dying for someone else - a philosophy that is equally as fucked up, in its own unique way.

But when we consider Kakashi and Gai's differing yet similar relationships to the concept of suicide and sacrifice... Isn't that what it all boils down to? Their fathers?

You have Sakumo, whose son found him slumped over, drenched in blood and moonlight, slain by his own hands because he couldn't face living anymore. And Dai, who went out in a brilliant conflagration, saving his son and proving all those who looked down on him wrong.

Doesn't that pose some interesting questions?

Is there ever a 'good' way to die? Is any form of suicide inherently less tragic, more noble? Or are they all just as messed up as each other?

Maybe it doesn't matter. After all, those are questions that can only be answered by the people left behind.

But I like the idea that out of those people left behind... Gai sees a difference there. Kakashi doesn't.

Which is to say: I cannot imagine Kakashi ever being cool with Gai offing himself if Lee hadn't survived his operation. I think he'd be pretty fucking worried about Gai - and even more so when he reaises Gai isn't suffering with depression or self-loathing or a lack of self-worth (all of which Kakashi is intimately familiar with, and could empathise with and understand). He just... thinks suicide is an ay-okay way of showing your love for someone. And that uncorks a whole barrel of trauma for Kakashi to deal with.

Did Gai not want him to kill himself, when he was in ANBU? Or did he just not want Kakashi to kill himself without a 'good purpose'?

I want Kakashi to ask that point-blank to Gai's face - and, perhaps, for that to be the point that makes Gai question his own convictions about what entails an acceptable reason to die.

#kakagai #gaikaka #kakashi #maito gai #might guy #hatake kakashi #just to say: I don't there are CORRECT answers to the question of When Self-Sacrifice Is Good #that's what makes it an interesting question #self harm #suicide #not trying to make any statements about suicide being positive or negative here #just prodding at concepts

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just-an-anxious-little-mess · 1 year

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Plural community, I need your help

(This is going to be a long post but please, I would really appreciate it if you took the time to read through it. Thank you very much, continue)

Hey, hello. I'm reaching out to the D.I.D/OSDD/Plural community in general, I need you guys' help. I have a slight suspicion that I might be an OSDD 1-b system but, my mind just keeps hammering in my head that I'm faking everything, that I'm just actively pretending to have all these symptoms and red flags just so I can sorta "fill the void" of feeling extremely lonely. It wouldn't be the first time I did that to myself- making me think I have a disorder when in reality it isn't true.

So I just need to know... how did you figure out you were a system? What signs should I be wary of? How can you even tell at all? This specially goes for systems with little to no amnesia barriers, since that's my case.

Some of the symptoms -or I guess things I've noticed that made me second guess- are:

I've been through childhood trauma (starting at age 8).

I can't remember my childhood/pre-teen years, specially from ages 10 to 12, only some bits and pieces. That time is a big ass blurr.

I've always referred to myself as "we" ever since, well- I can't really remember when.

I've had times in which I sort of turn into a child, but I can remember everything that happens. Is like there's two versions of me at that moment- the "child" me who's currently in control of the body, and myself, who's always in the back fully aware of what's happening and ready to jump in if anything occours. I thought that was age regressing, but I'm having second thoughts.

I've had times in which I feel like I was some characters of media I like, and I fully feel like I'm... Them. But again, still can remember everything that happens. I recall this one time when I was really distressed about something and suddenly, bam, felt like I was a character and I completely calmed down.

I've had these voices in my head for the longest times, I call them parts of myself. Like one of them particularly is keen of keeping me stable, grounding me if I'm having a panic or anxiety attack, reassuring me everything's gonna be okay, etc. Another part likes to argue about everything I do, having more of a negative outlook of things (this part is actually the one that keeps telling me I'm faking everything). Another part is the child one I was talking about earlier, I can feel her anger and pain and confusion about everything that happened to me.

I am so used to having internal arguments about everything, and I mean everything. I talk myself through my issues by discussing with these different parts.

These past few days, every time I try to do some research about OSDD I feel this awful feeling that I shouldn't, this feeling of panic.

Some reasons of why I think I'm faking everything:

Again, no dissociative barriers between almost everything that I've listed so far.

I have to kinda force myself or force my brain to be able to "listen" to these voices, and they quiet down when I'm focused on something else or I completely forget about them. This leads me to believe I'm imagining it all. If it were truly some sort of dissociative disorder, I would not have control of when I hear them.

If I am truly a system, wouldn't I have noticed it earlier? All of my life I went along living like a singlet, never questioning if I heard voices or not, never showing a symptom. Sure, the whole POINT of a system is to never let the host know, but still.

When I was about 13 I started doing my research on D.I.D (because I'm a huge psychology nerd), and I convinced myself I had that disorder. Even going as far as pretending to have it online. Yeah, I know, I was an asshole. That's why I'm worried I might be doing the same here.

Because of personal reasons, I lost my friend group and ended our relationship with my previous partner. That's why I feel extremely lonely, and that loneliness might lead me to make myself believe I have someone in my head, anyone. That way I won't be alone.

Not proud of this one, but I have to admit... I wanted to be a system when I did my research back in the day. The thought of not being alone anymore, of having someone else to step in like no one did for me when I needed it, of having someone else by my side... I really wanted that. And I'm afraid that desire is clouding my vision of whether I have a disorder or not.

If you got this far, thank you. It means the world. Please, I am open to any answers or advice you wanna give me, I'm desperate at this point. I just really wanna know if I'm faking it or not.

Thank you, sending love.

(Ps. sorry for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes, English is not my first language)

#d.i.d #d.i.d system #osdd #osdd 1b #osdd problems #plural system #alters #mental health

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matan4il · 1 year

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Hello Alice,

it’s miya again :) I hope all has been well with you. I really loved your meta this week & it made me realize the reason I appreciate your analysis so much. You write about buddie but you write about them as buck AND eddie and not like they are one combined single unit. buck and eddie are their own people with different personalities and i think people forget that sometimes when it comes to talking about them together.

I love how the focus of your analysis was eddie and his clear childhood/adolescent trauma dealing with traditional parents who believe in only one way of doing things. I feel like people kinda missed that when talking about eddie & his performing. i know people interpreted the performing line as literal but it’s much deeper than that and you pointed that out very well. it all goes to show you we look at things through so many different lens but i love your focus point so much. you honestly make me want to get better at my own writing and analysis for this two lovers.

I wanted to ask you though on your thoughts about buck downplaying his brush with death. He never has explicitly said out loud “i died” & I do think that moments coming soon. I just found it interesting that everyone keeps reiterating that to him & i wonder if he’ll snap the next time someone says it. Buck has not processed or accepted that his trauma happened. him referring to him literally dying as “an accident on the job” breaks my heart cause you can tell he wants people to stop making a big deal of it, despite it being very serious. he is suppressing his trauma which i understand as someone with ptsd. anyways sorry for my rambling. buck is my favorite & character i connect to the most so i tend to babble a lot lol. hope you have a lovely rest of your day/evening/night whenever you see this ❤️

Miya, you darling! :D I'm always so happy to hear from you! I've had a very challenging week (which is not yet over... when you read this, I'll probably be recovering from another double shift), but the feedback on everything that I was most stressing out about has been amazing, so I'm exhausted, but very satisfied! How are you? Well, I hope!

Awww! Yes, that's exactly it! I think I even explained it in one of my earlier weekly meta posts, that I'll be writing about Buck, Eddie AND BuckandEddie. So I'm glad that's something you not only noticed, but also enjoy! ^u^ Thank you SO MUCH for the kind words! And I'm particularly please to learned you liked my POV on Eddie in my 614 meta. I know I've spoken to a very perceptive friend of mine back when... I think it was still s3 airing? Or possibly start of season 4, and despite how smart and insightful she is, she had missed the bit about Eddie's conversation with Bobby back in 217. So yeah, I think a lot of people might have? We all miss something, since 911 serves us with so much goodness. And I'm glad if in this case, this is something I can add to the table.

I fully agree with you, Buck is not really coping with what happened, given the fact that he's not yet said it out loud, and other characters have to remind him of it repeatedly. I also wondered this week if his PT scores being low is also a reflection of him still struggling with the lightning strike and how to recover from it. Because remember in 301, when he was coming back from the fire truck crushing his leg? He still aced his re-qualification exam. Even after he also suffered a pulmonary embolism during that very same period of time AND survived (and rescued others during) a tsunami, we never got any indication that his physical ability to bounce back had been diminished. So that suddenly changing? It could be a sign of the gravity of the matter, and how this is different, and Buck has to wrap his head around it, but because he hasn't yet, his full recovery is also stalling. I don't wanna get too much into spoilers, but based on the little that we do know about the finale, I feel like if this isn't addressed before the end of the season, then it should be in its very last ep. The themes seem like they would easily lend themselves to it, in any case. I hope that's what happens! If it also leads to some breakthrough with Eddie, one of them finally, finally ADMITTING what the other one means to them, I would be ecstatic, but I would absolutely take the win if we simply see Buck starting to actually face the trauma he had just been through.

Thank you again for your wonderful ask! I hope you're having a great day. As always, my ask tag. xoxox

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chamomileteainabuttercup · 1 year

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I am once again doing what I shouldn’t do and getting distracted from my ongoing WIP fic by an alternative, although in this case at least it’s about the same characters. I initially wanted to do a Stranger Things 3 rewrite to add Eddie to Scoops Troop due to a misunderstanding (he thought the whole secret Russian base thing was LARPing and went along for fun, while his willingness to take the game seriously made Dustin think he believed in it) but it was getting to be too much like hard work, deciding what to keep consistent with the original and what to change and how this would join up at the end, so instead I recycled parts of it in a Steddie story about Eddie meeting Steve and Robin earlier in the summer of 1985, well before Dustin came back from camp, and you can just assume things went differently later on because of the pre-existing relationship without my doing any further work on it.

My original idea was going to be that Eddie’s “oh” moment about Steve came from seeing how he welcomed Dustin back and realising that he’s a tremendously silly dork, which I still think would be super cute and fun but doesn’t work with the change of timing. He’s getting more of a gradual change of feelings than a big turning point.

The funny thing about writing 1985 Eddie, because the only other things I’ve written about him have been post-S4, either fix-it or make-it-worse, is occasionally remembering that a) any sort of trauma, grief or guilt he has to deal with is from totally mundane causes like family problems or being a queer weirdo and b) there’s nothing wrong with his body! He doesn’t have extensive injuries or scarring, he’s not a vampire or at any risk of becoming one, if he does have any scars they are, again, from mundane causes like accidents with sharp or hot things. Feels odd!

#steddie #you know what else I like about writing various AUs that always feels cheaty until I remind myself I can totally do it?#when you make something up to fill in a detail not given in canon #like someone’s birthday or middle name or a previously unspecified job #YOU CAN MAKE THEM ALL DIFFERENT #it feels like getting to cheat it’s lovely fun!#oh Steve couldn’t be a Taurus last time because it was inconvenient? BAM he’s a Taurus #mad with power and it’s only changing MY OWN decisions

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shembl · 1 year

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Moby Dick FNP Chapter 22 - Merry Christmas!

Posting this here our of order compared to the other stuff for a couple of reasons. The first reason is it’s Christmas, so merry that, for all who celebrate or observe, and the second reason is that Whale Weekly has absolutely blasted past our pace and I think we should probably stick with the zeitgeist a bit I think.

We’ll still be pasting chapter by chapter, but here’s a little christmas treat; the sight of me desperately clinging to the discourse in an attempt to piggyback off Whale Weekly’s popularity.

We have more chapters in the bank which I’ll get around to posting soon, but in the meantime, Merry Christmas and please enjoy this slightly reworded, list-bulleted version of Chapter 22 of Moby Dick, now for Normal People

🐳 🐳 🐳 🐳 🐳 🐳 🐳 🐳 🐳 🐳 🐳 🐳

Chapter 22: Merry Christmas

There were a few last things to be done on the ship before we got going, mostly this was Charity, that nice lady from earlier, she was dropping off various gifts and nice things for the crew, including a nightcap (the hat type, not a drink) for this guy called Stubbs who was the second mate and also her brother in law, and also a spare bible for the steward, who’s name and familial links I am hazy on.

Then, Peleg and Bildad came out and stood all official-like.

Peleg turned to the chief mate and said “Now, Mr. Starbuck, are you sure everything is right? Captain Ahab is all ready—just spoke to him—nothing more to be got from shore, eh? Well, call all hands, then. Muster ’em aft here—blast ’em!”

“No need of profane words, however great the hurry, Peleg,” said Bildad, “but away with thee, friend Starbuck, and do our bidding.” I don’t know why, but Bildad always seemed to phrase things in the most ominous way possible.

Talking like a pair of big important order-givers weren’t they? At least for people who weren’t actually going out to sea with us! Don’t get me wrong, they probably know their stuff, but really shouldn’t Ahab have been the one up here shouting at everyone? Then I thought about it and remembered that his leg was bad, and that even if that wasn’t case, some captains just like to get drunk in their cabin, I’ve seen plenty of that in my time on boats, so really it was all okay. I relaxed a little. Not for long though, because just then Peleg started yelling at everyone.

“Aft here, ye sons of bachelors,” he cried, as the sailors lingered at the main-mast. Everyone over there started running around, wild-eyed.

“Strike the tent there!”—was the next order. I’d thought it was odd that there was a tent on deck to start with, so I suppose that taking it down was like a ritualistic re-boatening of the vessel, because tents don’t go to sea.

“Man the capstan! Blood and thunder!—jump!”—was the next command, and the crew did all these things.

The ship was getting under way, and anyone who knows ships knows that under way means it’s time for singing. Now, Bildad was never much of a party man in my experience, and he showed that at this time by singing some sort of boring religious song and tutting at the sailors who were en-masse, raucously roaring the hit shanty of the time “The Girls of Booble Alley.”

I found myself somewhat comforted by this bizarre scene, there was us on a ship made of bones, with heads full of dark prophecy and a crew singing rude songs, but somehow this pious little paragon of virtue called Bildad, maybe we weren’t all totally damned, if someone like that could put up with us, could have a stake in all this, then surely God wouldn’t fuck us all up, would he?

By now I had stopped moving the capstan and told Queequeg to do the same, I can’t really think and do manual labour at the same time and I had quite some pondering to do.

My leg almost exploded with some outside blunt force trauma slamming into them. I looked around and saw Peleg’s own leg dragging back across the deck towards him. He was swearing at everyone and especially at me. That was my first kick of the voyage.

“Is that the way they heave in the marchant service?” he roared. “Spring, thou sheep-head; spring, and break thy backbone! Why don’t ye spring, I say, all of ye—spring! Quohog! spring, thou chap with the red whiskers; spring there, Scotch-cap; spring, thou green pants. Spring, I say, all of ye, and spring your eyes out!” And so saying, he moved along the windlass, here and there using his leg very freely, meanwhile.

“Captain Peleg must have been drinking something to-day. Methinks!” I quipped hilariously as my leg went completely numb.

Finally the anchor was up, so were the sails, and the ship was moving. It was almost enough to make you forget that today was Christmas, nobody had gotten me a present, but instead of a little to open, the world itself lay open before me, truly the greatest present of all. And in that world there were whales waiting for me to hack up!

It wasn’t exactly a white christmas, no snow or anything like that, but it was bloody cold and bloody wet and you know what that means, weather fans, that means it was icy!

Massive icicles were forming on all the ropes and bones about the place, hanging down like big cold daggers ready to take your eyes if you look the wrong way, for a seasoned sailor like me, it was just business as usual. Business on Christmas Day.

The winds howled and the sea splashed at us but all the time, right on the front of the ship, steering us through was weird old Bildad, singing a merry, optimistic and religious tune, cutting right through all the weather-related atmos.

“Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood,

Stand dressed in living green.

So to the Jews old Canaan stood,

While Jordan rolled between.”

I wasn’t fully sure what he was actually talking about, but that’s art for you isn’t it, it’s not about the content, it’s about how it you feel, and I was taking some time out from all that backbreaking labour to have a stand around and a feel. Losing myself to the music I felt optimistic, I felt like it wouldn’t be long before I was off running and rolling around in verdant fields with a happy sky and loads of lovely food within easy reach, I let myself go there in my mind, away from this damp and cold body that imprisons it, away from the ship made of bones and the guy who kept yelling at me and kicking me. For just a moment I was free. I was optimistic.

Eventually it was time for Bildad and Peleg to leave. They’d gotten us out of the port, so it was time for them to head back to land. Their little sailboat pulled up and they got ready to go. Peleg seemed alright but there was something odd about old Bildad. He clearly didn’t want to leave, it wasn’t just a boat, here is a list of things it also was to him;

-A ship set for a very long and perilous voyage

-A ship with thousands of his dollars invested in it

-A ship with an old (almost as old as he) buddy in it (the captain) who was set to revisit all the all the terrors of the pitiless jaw

-A ship with everything important in his life contained in it

To express this anguish, poor old Bildad lingered long and;

-Paced the deck with anxious strides

- Ran down into the cabin to say goodbye a few more times

- Came back on deck and looked windward, at the wide and endless waters

- He looked towards land

- He looked aloft

- He looked left

- He looked right

- He looked everywhere

- He looked nowhere

- He wrapped a rope around its pin

- He wrapped his own hand around Peleg’s

- He held up a lantern so that his face could be seen, and he wasn’t crying.

- He and Peleg stared at each other for a bit

- He said “Nevertheless old friend Peleg, I can stand it. yes. I can.”

Peleg took it all a little bit more sensibly, like a philosopher, a philosopher who isn’t afraid to cry.

And with that, Peleg offered a few words of support to his old pal “Captain Bildad—come, old shipmate, we must go.” he whispered before going full yelling-mode at the rest of the ship; “Back the main-yard there! Boat ahoy! Stand by to come close alongside, now! Careful, careful!—come, Bildad, boy—say your last. Luck to ye, Starbuck—luck to ye, Mr. Stubb—luck to ye, Mr. Flask—good-bye and good luck to ye all—and this day three years I’ll have a hot supper smoking for ye in old Nantucket. Hurrah and away!”

“God bless ye, and have ye in His holy keeping, men,” murmured old Bildad, almost incoherently. “I hope ye’ll have fine weather now, so that Captain Ahab may soon be moving among ye—a pleasant sun is all he needs, and ye’ll have plenty of them in the tropic voyage ye go. Be careful in the hunt, ye mates. Don’t stave the boats needlessly, ye harpooneers; good white cedar plank is raised full three per cent. within the year. Don’t forget your prayers, either. Mr. Starbuck, mind that cooper don’t waste the spare staves. Oh! the sail-needles are in the green locker! Don’t whale it too much a’ Lord’s days, men; but don’t miss a fair chance either, that’s rejecting Heaven’s good gifts. Have an eye to the molasses tierce, Mr. Stubb; it was a little leaky, I thought. If ye touch at the islands, Mr. Flask, beware of fornication. Good-bye, good-bye! Don’t keep that cheese too long down in the hold, Mr. Starbuck; it’ll spoil. Be careful with the butter—twenty cents the pound it was, and mind ye, if—”

“Come, come, Captain Bildad; stop palavering,—away!” and with that, Peleg hurried him over the side, and both dropped into the boat.

Ship and boat diverged; the cold, damp night breeze blew between; a screaming gull flew overhead; the two hulls wildly rolled; we gave three heavy-hearted cheers, and blindly plunged like fate into the lone Atlantic.

#moby dick #whale weekly #ishmael #bildad #peleg #herman melville #moby dick for normal people #christmas #holidays #ships #lists #merry christmas

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templephoenix · 1 year

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I posted 574 times in 2022

That's 219 more posts than 2021!

42 posts created (7%)

532 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@stvrwar

@scarecrowcoffee

@pusheen

@speedfreak01

@daily-deliciousness

I tagged 27 of my posts in 2022

#transformers - 3 posts

#maccadam - 3 posts

#murder she wrote - 2 posts

#chocolate guy - 2 posts

#amaury guichon - 2 posts

#megatron - 1 post

#idw2 - 1 post

#brian ruckley - 1 post

#anna malkova - 1 post

#tfnation - 1 post

Longest Tag: 41 characters

#looks great but tastes like dog chocolate

My Top Posts in 2022:

I worry that we're all about to meme an even Morbier sequel into existence

46 notes - Posted May 24, 2022

I think it's time to demand a Tasting History with Max Miller/Dylan B. Hollis Cinematic Universe

48 notes - Posted May 7, 2022

No offense to the mighty Æsir but if I were caught in an ever-tightening web of apocalyptic prophecy and immutable fate I would simply get out of it

87 notes - Posted November 29, 2022

A thread of stuff I remember from Brian Ruckley's IDW2 retrospective panel from TFNation this weekend, in no particular order:

• Brian scoured the TFwiki for all the female TFs that he could use; he was very clear on presenting them as a normal part of TF society from the start, no weird 'explanations' needed

• He planned out the main story beats he wanted to hit in his head, but didn't make extensive notes or anything

• If it hadn't been truncated, the Exarchon plotline would have - pending Hasbro approval - dealt with the Quintessons and their region of space, cut off from the rest of the universe. They wouldn't have been involved with Cybertron's origins

• He praised the work of all the artists but in particular Anna Malkova, who he considered the best thing to come out of IDW2 and particularly impressive for moving from artwork to comic storytelling

• Flamewar was an obvious favourite, one of many characters without much existing fiction which allowed for more freedom

• One of the main themes of the series was trauma, embodied in characters like Cyclonus and his ghosts

• Geomotus and others showed that neurodivergence exists in Cybertronians; he wanted to show that there was a variety of ways in which characters could see the world

• The Technobots annual was condensed down from a full story arc which would have featured the Terrorcons; the Technos were chosen as Brian's favourite combiner team

• He didn't want loads of combiners running around too soon, hence the Enigma being thrown into the sea; it would have resurfaced eventually

• He considered one of his biggest weaknesses to be that he didn't make individual issues read as well on their own rather than 'in the trade'; he hoped that he had gotten better at it as the series went on

• Favourite TF character types included female transformers and teleporters; he wanted Skywarp to be a trickster-type figure

• As the series went on Starscream would have remained neither a true Decepticon nor in any way an Autobot, trusted by no one and yet charming/threatening/maneuvering them into keeping him around

• A continuing theme would be the gap between how Cybertronians see themselves and how other species view them; organic planets would consider these giant robots terrifying

• He doesn't consider himself good at big shock reveals and doesn't like bait-and-switches, so tried not to do either during the series

• Despite the long-form storytelling aspect of the book, his personal favourite issues were the one-shots that divided each story arc, like Wheeljack on the moon

• The senate attack that kicked off the war in earnest was originally meant to come earlier in the series

• He didn't originally know that the continuity was being rebooted when he was asked to pitch for a TF comic; there was a lot of back-and-forth at the start as Hasbro kept adding requests

• The series would have gotten to humans eventually, although Brian wanted the TFs to encounter them already in space rather than on Earth

• He enjoys writing comics more than novels, and would happily do only the former if given the chance

• He needed a science-related TF to be the initial murder victim; he sent a shortlist of names to be approved and they chose Brainstorm

• Hasbro did not want too many original characters created for the series; the ones he invented were all done so because they were integral to the narrative

• Once they were told about the license being lost, Brian made a conscious decision not to kill a bunch of characters off before the end; he thinks that it would be too cynical, and that deaths have to serve a contextual and narrative purpose to be meaningful. He also recognises that every character is someone's favourite, and now they can imagine the adventures they might have in the future

All in all, a really interesting and honest panel! Thanks to Brian and all the artists for my favourite TF continuity ever; RIP IDW2

457 notes - Posted August 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

468 notes - Posted November 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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theartistknownaslymond · 2 years

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💬

Thanks for the ask, Katherine! <3 In response to this post, 'a quote from my own writing that I’m proud of', I'm choosing the last posted chapter of the band AU prequel (which will have more chapters one day, I promise!).

It's very much not my normal style at all, but I'm pleased with it as a scene-setter and something that summarises the passing of time - which I'm so lazy about writing usually, I get distracted by the minutiae in individual scenes and feel lost thinking about how to describe the bigger picture. So this chapter is something I'd like to be able to do more of. It's also kind of a manifesto for the band AU in some ways, thinking about the way myths are built up around people and how the industry of providing entertainment chews individuals up and celebrates the narrative of suffering while ignoring or burying actual abuses or traumas. It's about what Francis is fighting against, if you will, both the worst impulses of the industry he's in and his own worst impulses, built on the narratives and myths he's been fed and inspired by growing up, too.

Apparently the year was a nostalgic one. It glanced back wistfully at the memories of punk and glam, and wished they had not died so young. It pulled out old favourites and dusted them off for the charts; it took solace in things that had been successful before (number 1 in May, first released a decade earlier: Suicide is Painless, the theme from M*A*S*H).

Moving on would be difficult: how could it be done without attracting words like derivative, lazy, unoriginal? Much safer to remember the genius that had already been, rest assured that at least we would always have that. There was more happening, of course, newness in every record store and club, but it was a bubbling, nebulous, contradictory mess of scenes, because the past is easy but the present confounds.

We like to tell ourselves that origin stories are special. Legends are forged through hardship, and heroes can only rise to their true potential once they have passed through suffering. Look at that guy in his thin coat on the cover of The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan; think of desperate people at cross-roads, think of life-changing choices. Live for the music or you may as well not be alive. You can’t be a troubadour if you don’t wander and you can’t be a bluesman if you don’t get your heart broken. Youth is impatient, and it will demand these experiences from life: now, because I must earn the future. Because this is the only way.

But origin stories are tidied up in the retelling. They are life as a series of montages, taking only the significant hardships and leaving out the daily trivialities: the blisters on those wandering feet and the weakness in the legs of a hungry man. You can’t give away too much when you tidy it up for public consumption, because if you stopped to remember the details you might ask yourself: was doing it this way really worth it?

Then again, at the time there did not seem to be another way. The sound of a back-door slamming shut is an irrevocable thing: metallic and large, big enough that for a second it dwarfs the whole city. It can be a portal from one life into another — but probably only in the retelling. At the time it’s just a noise loud enough to make your teeth rattle, its vibrations enough to shake a dusting of snow off the gutters above.

Really, it was a year in flux, like every year is when you live it — but people get introspective around zeros. They want to know what it’s all for, just in case this is the last one. And you can’t know until later, in the telling.

Francis Crawford did not leave the venue in search of answers: he had been telling himself it was all for the music for so long that he didn’t know what that meant any more. Wasn’t music just another thing that Margaret Douglas owned? He left to get away from answers. To find other questions to ask. To take himself out of himself, peel away the skin and see what emerged.

In the case of Lymond’s missing year, the details would — for the most part — remain as tantalisingly opaque as he chose to keep them. Who could say how he was able to disappear from the public eye overnight, vanishing into the frozen air? Only one other person, and he had his own reasons for remaining quiet. Unchallenged, Francis slipped into the city shadows, dropping into lives deemed unlawful; unsavoury; unimportant. He was an immigrant amongst immigrants, haunting scenes of furious creativity where the crumbling past began to give way to a cynical new future.

He would certainly never speak of the way his first year of professional musicianship culminated in a thick fever and a bone-aching cough, soothed and nursed by one who only returned at unsociable hours between precarious jobs. How he lay weakened on a narrow mattress, shivering in layers of someone else’s coats and jumpers, watching powdery snow try to reach the streets and fail — swirling in gusts around the twelfth story window instead.

As he answered for his hard living and avoided thinking of what had been lost, the outside world woke up to an intriguing new mystery. How was it that Lymond, last seen bumming cigarettes off fans and signing their cassettes in the cold outside the venue, could have simply disappeared? He was not a household name in America, but surely even in Downtown Manhattan people would notice a topless man with a bright blue guitar wandering the streets?

Then again, it is relatively easy to go missing in New York, and the city is a maze that traps and ensnares the unwary. The worst had to be assumed as apologies were made and bookings cancelled. It was the north-east. It was winter. Temperatures were unforgiving, the streets were a desperate tangle of struggling lives, and bodies were often never found. When a man with nothing but the jeans on his body and a useless instrument goes missing on a November night, and the weeks pass, and the silence stretches, what more can be said?

Margaret Douglas tried to downplay the worry, the tragedy, to soothe the people who thirsted for a story. She claimed a half truth: he had taken a break for the sake of his health. She omitted the effect of lessons she had taught him, like how to preserve consciousness in a state of exhaustion with the right cocktail of drugs, and how to prioritise the pleasure of the body over long overdue rest. She omitted the details of his contract, and the argument and the blame that had been cast. She did not mention the unfamiliar, personal sting that his absence brought her.

However, the world was accustomed to Margaret Douglas giving firm answers when she had them, and it was rapidly clear that this was not a situation she had any control over. Lymond’s life was no longer one she could mediate, and the hysteria of the rumour mill swelled. Weeks passed, and public certainty eclipsed her hedging statements. Records flew off shelves: Lymond now had a cult following of professional mourners and misery vampires. Lennox Records profited.

His new fans looked back on his album and they saw his pain: the song about the graveyard, the yearning, the references to people passed and places lost. The public rewrote the terms of his life, lined up his disappearance next to his sister’s and nodded sagely with understanding. Too wise for this world. Too much feeling. Too fragile and brittle to make a stand in the face of all that pain.

His family said nothing: one statement requesting that their privacy be respected; reiterating Gavin’s feelings towards his son following the loss of Eloise. Sibylla was not heard from, never seen without the large, square sunglasses that covered half her face. Richard would be swept aside by one of his father’s aides if he looked as though he might say something ill-advised. The Crawfords closed ranks, keeping the memory of Eloise protected within, and leaving the memory of Francis out, open to the public for reinterpretation.

Privately, Margaret Douglas fought hard to maintain the habit of a lifetime: she would not second guess her decisions now. Not ever. But she had thought him a clever one; the disappearance shocked her. A sliver of electric heat struck her chest when she thought of him, and she wondered at the suddenness of the loss. He had not seemed the type for self-destruction — but then again, all that coiled energy had to be released somehow. Through some emotional outlet he had kept from her, perhaps. Who knew what had gone on behind those thirsty blue eyes, after all?

She stayed awake late, standing at her hotel window, smoking into her own reflection, contemplating the cold river and thinking of the fragile body of a boy. She did not open the window to sample the wind’s bite: she was no romantic, and could imagine suffering quite well enough without needing to share in it. She listened to his record again and felt the burden of wasted potential settle on her like a heavy cloak. But she had a responsibility: his legacy. She would scrape together what demos she could. Find some live recordings. A second album could be made, even without the artist.

#ask me and i will play #writing meme #band au: prequel #every day i write the book #<- if only that tag were true ahaha

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thatwaywardwolf · 2 years

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Well, it's been quite a while, hasn't it? 2022 is trickling to an end soon, thankfully, and a lot has happened.

First, I'm still here. I haven't gone anywhere and I'm surprised that I'm still getting foot traffic here. It's sparse, but it's there. So, for all the new comers, welcome. For all the old timers, thank you for still sticking around. I haven't posted much at all this year and I'm not sure when I'll make it a thing to post regularly again in spite of my earlier comments that I'd put in a bigger effort.

This year has been monumentally rough and because of that, I've taken a big gap with my practice and I can't really remember the last time I've engaged much with it. I actually made my first offering in what I think has been a few months just half an hour ago. It feels nice, especially with the rain. It's something I would like to do more often, but having a new cat has made it hard since she's taken a serious liking to the altar and we have to keep her from climbing on it - which has been stressful on my end.

I'm doing my best to get by, which I guess is all that matters and I know this is something that we as a community talk about a fair amount when it comes to spiritual burnout and the importance of making your needs a priority. The Gods aren't going anywhere anytime soon, so take time to focus on your own healing - they understand.

I feel like with where I'm at, I feel my relationship with the Gods has matured enough to a point where we can exchange glances from across the room and it be enough. The whole "Hey, I see you and we're good" thing, which feels more natural with Thor to me than anything else. I'm listening to a general devotional playlist I made again for the first time in months and it feels nostalgic in a way, like the warmth of a nice cup of coffee and a knit sweater. It's also a bit strange because songs that remind me of them (especially Thor) has been spread out more.

I mentioned it months ago with how sometimes, I'll look at a certain friend and somehow, I think about the gods; like how her mischievousness is the delight of Loki, her passion for art and music would make Odin and Bragi proud, her protective and loyal golden retriever energy is so much like what I've found in Thor, how fiercely badass she is and loves others (including her own healing) feels like Freyja, her love of life and compassion with death feels like the presence of Hel, and so on. That whole thing.

So now, if I hear a certain song that I connected to Thor over, I'm also reminded of her and how important she is to me. It's indescribable to be able to have that level of a connection to someone or something, and how it feels like overtime it's just aged like a great wine - and it's going to continue doing that. I hope that, if I'm able to, I can bridge those old connections again with the gift giving cycle and do more to get out in nature. I haven't gone on a long walk in a while and getting lost in the woods by our creek sounds nice now.

All that aside, this year has been full of change and stress: some of it good, some of it bad. It's been a tedious and intense process with doing all kinds of processing and recovery, and I don't think I'd be where I am now without her and my good friends to help me keep my head above the water. I'm still struggling, but they've been so patient, kind, and affirming with me - even if things like paranoia tell me they aren't, and they've said they notice an improvement in me that I'm learning more and getting better. It's basically been a lot with trauma recovery, getting diagnosed with PTSD, (likely) fibro, and I should be getting a call back this week regarding getting tested for ADHD.

Yeah, 2022 has been a lot. It's had so good though, quite a bit, actually. I've worked on more art this year alone than I have any other, I've made so many friends and built up a found family, I, of course have a new cat, and I'm hoping to have my top surgery consultation next year after struggling with coverage and paperwork problems for two years.

But, I'll leave things at that for now. I hope that everyone stays safe the rest of the year and if things haven't been going well, that the next two months treat you well. For those that celebrate it, have a great and safe Halloween, Día de los Muertos, and Samhain with those you love - even if they've departed. Just in case I don't get to say it in December, have a meaningful winter / summer solstice wherever you are. May 2023 treat you kinder than this year has.

Until next time,

Adam.

#adam rambles

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foggyparadisecandy · 5 months

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[tw: tough topics ahead … not worth reading .. should not be read if you are not in a good space … honestly shouldn’t be read by anyone .. I’m venting them because this is my space and I’ll use it how I want… the warning and the break are so you don’t have to read it.]

I apologize for my previous post (since deleted). I’m in a slightly better space.

I know why I’ve slipped back into depression.

I’ve been reading up on trauma … so I can better understand my ex … and I can better understand me.

This has opened up a lot of stuff in me that I’ve held on to for … oh … forever. Starting with the most recent stuff …

I love my ex. I believe I do and that’s all that matters. I care about her. I’m worried about her. And she is not safe. And there is nothing that can be done.

That makes me feel so powerless. Big shock: I’m a control freak. I’m a domineering, control freak and to be powerless to help someone I love? Pretty fucking powerful negative emotions crashing into me.

Worse? I’ve realized I love her like a daughter. Which … maybe the dd/lg thing has a bunch of that baked into it plus the sexual aspects which makes it “hot” and kinky … idk.

I’m pretty fucking much a n00b in the bdsm space - at least as an active participant. I need to dig into the dynamics and see if most “daddies” feel like actual fathers to their lg’s.

All I know is that I’ve come to realize that is how I think of her. And I have this overwhelming sense of “keep my baby safe” that is killing me. I realized earlier .. “keeping her safe” was always an illusion.

I can’t keep her safe. Even if I was with her every second of the day, keeping someone else safe from all life throws at them is a … dangerous mindset. So. I can set that down. And if I find I pick it back up, I need to remember this and set it back down.

I also have been ghosted by her. This is tougher for me. It dings my ego and belief that I’m some sort of savior that she needs. No. She clearly doesn’t *need* me. She’s a fully functioning (although saddled with some serious trauma of her own) human being. We were together and shared some beautiful experiences. She doesn’t *need* me. So I can set that down too. She has decided she doesn’t need a savior and that’s her choice, not mine. I respect that even if it bugs me.

And she doesn’t owe me anything. Although, admittedly, I find that last bit hard to swallow because I know she loved me deeply even up to the end. Shit, if we don’t owe our loved ones common courtesies, I just don’t know what the fuck is up with the world. She’s young. She doesn’t have my perspective on loving relationships. Also true: my own perspective is probably (haha definitely) screwy from my own bullshit.

The ghosting hurt also because I didn’t get any proper closure or explanations. In the end, she was sending so many confusing messages at me. But this one, as hard as it is, is just what it is. I know she wasn’t thinking clearly about her own safety and well-being in the end. It’s impossible to think she was ever going to give either of us good closure. So I need to set that down too. The closure is to be found on my own. And I think … appreciating what she brought me and shared with me … which was extremely lovely and enjoyable.

I worry about her future potentially being diminished. But it’s not mine to worry about. She’ll either get it or she won’t. I know this. I keep forgetting. She’ll either survive her mission or she won’t. I can’t keep her safe from that and I can’t bring her home.

Set it down. Set it down. Set it down.

Ahhhhh sometimes talking these things out is useful. I’ve repeated this stuff so many times, it’s getting easier to get there each time. Instead of getting stuck in depression, I need to remember the lessons and set these things down if I find I’ve picked them back up.

These aren’t burdens I can carry anymore or should carry. As tough as it is to admit, I’m not a god. Many days I’m barely a functioning human lol.

Then … setting all that down .. I think I see my real problems … my childhood shit. I’m not sure I can even consider it at the moment without spiraling so I’m calling it a night on this venting.

I wrote that little song the other day which was pretty spot on imo. A friend told me it was kind of fucked up how painful it was to read. Yeah. I get it. I lived it.

lol some of y’all are masochists if you keep reading these things. I’m so so sorry … I just need to work these things out and there is a comfort in imagining another human is reading my stuff and feeling my emotions.

It’s nice to imagine a connection with others when we are hurting. It feels better than dumping this to my private journal.

Thank you fellow humans.

#catharsis #self care

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greenstarmotivation · 1 year

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I see love.

I shared this earlier on Facebook. I’ve edited it a bit from its original post because I mis-remembered. Still...

Once upon a time, I was me... authentically and completely. And, I failed to see those around me for who they were and how they lifted me up to my highest good. The past ten years have been challenging beyond measure. I've spent the past three in trauma and grief therapy just to function in a healthy capacity. I see a photo of me and my younger sister and I remember this time of great peace in my life and the support despite the traumas I endured with divorce, job changes, grieving the loss of the life I wanted for my children, along with the challenges of working fulltime and trying to navigate life on my own for the first time. It was made easier by my sister, someone who loved me unconditionally. At the time, she offered me help when I felt so alone in the world. She was there this day when my finalized divorce papers arrived in the mail. A few months earlier, she was gracious and took my lovely dog, Keela, when I had to rehome her during my divorce. It broke my heart but gave me joy knowing she went to love. Sadly, Keela escaped homes often and was later rehomed to a farm and killed by a motorcycle upon one of her escapes (the driver survived the accident, thank God). I can't even imagine the hardship my sister faced with this situation. I don't know if I ever thanked my sister for stepping up for me in this way and so many others in my life. She was my rock, despite our challenges, I could always count on her to be there to laugh, sing, talk, or cry it out. So many times, I think she let me think I was doing her a favor by taking on my burdens. I remember she loaned me money during my divorce, and said she wanted to help me. Looking back, I don't think she really could have afforded to give me anything but she did. Not too many years ago, she took my kitten for me. Originally, I got the kitty (not thinking through our travel plans) to help me deal with my aloneness as an empty-nester. Realizing we had to travel, my sister offered to "kitty-sit" for the few days we'd be gone. When we got back from our trip, she nonchalantly said she was in love with the kitty and would keep it forever. So, I gave her the kitty thinking it would make her happy. We also had another upcoming trip, so it was a "win-win" in my mind. The kitty eventually grew and became violent towards her. I felt so responsible every time I heard about how the cat would attack her. Another one of those times, she was looking out for me but I thought I was actually doing her a favor because I thought she wanted the kitty. I don't think she really did, and certainly not after he became such a terror. Ugh. I suck at big-sisterhood. Tragedy seems to have followed me most of my life. I don't say this as a "woe is me" but more of a simply truth. I feel like I've endured more than my fair share of pain. Lately, with so much alone time, I am haunted by the tragedies of the past and broken relationships caused by my inability to value others through my own brokenness. I've caused so much pain to those I hold dear. I see my part in it all, and I do the work to forgive myself and to hold space for the healing I hope will someday come. I wish I could turn back time and undo all the things I've been told I did to cause harm to the people I love dearly. Will they forgive me for being human? For being broken? For being blind to their needs? For all the known and unspoken ways in which I caused harm? Maybe. Maybe not. In the meantime, I see this photo and I remember who I came here to be. It was not to be broken. I grew, thrived, and overcame so much to be in this now moment as an expression of love and hope. I see me. I see her. I see love

#tammyblackday #healing #chasingyes

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lonelier-version-of-you · 2 years

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I did like Harriet from Emmerdale and wanted her to get some sort of storyline but then it was "oh I don't love the guy I'm with but won't break up with him even though I'm in love with my ex and am trying to get him to break up with his fiancee to get back with me" which I just found a bit annoying but it's Emmerdale so.... and now she might die and Kim might die but Amelia and the baby will probably be fine despite it being way too early because it's soapland where people can regularly give birth at 7 months or less pregnant and both them and the baby are completely 100% okay with no health issues whatsoever.

She's always been my favourite character - she feels like a sort of character who's very unique for soaps, y'know? Especially since she's never really had a big family unit around her in the way most other characters do. She's really just got Dawn, who only came in a couple of years ago and isn't even biologically related to her. Her isolated-ness compared to other characters has always been interesting to me. And I find her relationship with her religion fascinating, too.

But the writers have really been doing her dirty for years. The main reason I stopped watching for ages in the first place was because I was angry that she FINALLY got a big A-list storyline where she was the focus (the Malone thing) only for the show to first neglect the storyline for weeks at a time, and then resolve it quickly without doing any real justice to her trauma or her mental health. There was so much to be explored there and it ended up being wrapped up after a couple of episodes. She was so ill and then suddenly she was just fine?? And at first it really seemed like they were going for an OCD storyline - her repeatedly washing her hands, saying she felt unclean, the compulsive praying... I was re-reading some of my posts about that storyline earlier and got reminded of that line she had when Dawn found her at the place they'd buried Malone: "I need to keep checking on him. You know, make sure he's okay. And I pray for him. And us." That is just TEXTBOOK OCD. But nope, it was swept under the rug after a couple of months when it could've been such a good storyline. Ugh. And then after she miraculously (no pun intended, lol) healed from her trauma, she just stopped appearing entirely for ages. Like, we'd be lucky to see her once a month. I don't think she had a single episode in June 2021. Hence, I stopped watching and have only got back into it now for the anniversary... at which point they now seem to be killing her off!

The whole Dan/Harriet/Will/Kim love square is just... sigh. Especially if it's her last storyline - going out as she lived: almost only ever getting storylines if they were about her relationship with a man. (I know the Malone stuff was technically also about her relationships with men but it was different enough IMO.) It's not really OOC or anything because Harriet has always been hopelessly self-destructive when it comes to relationships, so annoying as it is I can't say I'm surprised she's pining after the bloke who literally tried to kill her even though she's in a relationship with Dan, a decent guy. But it's just... sigh.

In some way, it would be depressingly fitting for the first time the writers let her be properly involved in one of the Big Event Weeks to culminate in them killing her off. -_-

And YEP about Amelia and the baby. That sort of thing in soaps always drives me mad. I remember when Chelsea in EE gave birth last year when she was... only about 6 months in, I think? And she and the baby were both perfectly fine and she could take him home within a few weeks and he doesn't seem to have any lasting health issues. ://

#asks #anons

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