#it’s horrendous enough people self diagnosis | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heymacy · 5 days

Note

hi! i haven’t seen mickeyless seasons so i wanted to ask if ian ever has issues about being bipolar like he did with mickey? like him breaking up in s5 for not wanting to see mickey hurt and s10 when he asks if he’s crazy for wanting to be with him! i think i read somewhere that caleb? maybe had a talk about self love or whatever to ian but that dude was horrendous ( not that trevor was best for what ive seen ) so im not sure that counts ahah

hi anon!

yes, ian grappling with his disorder is a very very big theme throughout seasons 6, 7, 8, and 9. in fact i would argue that aside from him becoming an EMT, the bipolar storyline is his most significant one (i typed out my response and it got very long so i'm going to put it below the cut 💛)

in s6 he is fresh off of the diagnosis, the breakup, and coping with mickey going to prison (and he was definitely trying to cope, he still loved him and seeing someone you love locked up is immeasurably hard. i feel like we don't talk about this enough). he feels very aimless and it isn't until an incident (he's a bystander to a car crash and rescues a woman from a burning vehicle) that he finds his new path (becoming an EMT, which he does by the end of s6). caleb was absolutely awful in so many ways but the one good thing he did do was encourage and support ian in finding a new life path, which is the only credit i will give him. there's also a deleted scene in s6 that is so, so important re: understanding how mentally ill people are viewed and treated in society and of course ian's monologue about how he's good at his job because of his illness, which is one of my favorite scenes in the entire show.

in s7, he's getting healthy again and taking his meds, but it isn't without struggle. there's a very poignant and important scene (part one, part two) with lip where he expresses his struggles with his disorder and how hard it is for him to cope with taking his meds and listening to the warning signs for episodes (he was behaving in ways akin to a hypomanic episode/showing signs of slipping into an episode just before the conversation happens). by the end of the season, after he leaves mickey at the border, he's still relatively stable, but the emotional triggers of leaving mickey behind + monica's death start to take a toll on him, which we see in s8. there's also the trevor of it all in s7, but that's a whole other issue. trevor did not have a positive impact on ian's self-esteem whatsoever and even went so far as to demand ian forgive monica and "move on" after knowing 0.1% of the history between the two of them. that scene in particular makes me unfathomably angry and i just know it was deeply, deeply triggering for ian to hear that from someone he cared about.

in s8, we have the gay jesus storyline, which i absolutely detest and hate to discuss, but it's part of his story and it needs to be acknowledged. he's taken advantage of a lot this season, propelled towards some sort of fucked up end goal with very little control over his circumstances, and it quickly spirals out of control. while the writers never explicitly state that ian is hypo/manic during this season, you can watch the progression happen if you pay close enough attention. despite not being given a lot to work with, cameron did a great job at playing the nuances of bipolar disorder this season, showing ian's descent into hypo/mania as the gay jesus movement grows and warps.

in s9, he's in prison for the first time and is noticeably manic. after being released, he starts seeking out meaning and purpose in religion. eventually he's forced to face the consequences of his actions and pleads not guilty to arson by reason of insanity, not only defying the wishes of the gay jesus followers (they feared him going public with his diagnosis and pleading insanity would delegitimize the movement) but also finally choosing to really acknowledge his disorder, reckon with it, and make peace with it, in a strange sort of way. it's a very important and pivotal moment for his character and cameron absolutely delivers during his plea monologue.

if you've see s10 you know how his self-worth takes a hit regarding the marriage storyline, and how he's so terrified of marrying mickey because 1) he doesn't know if he's capable of being a good partner because he doesn't feel like he had good examples of healthy marriage standards growing up and 2) he isn't sure mickey knows what he's signing up for re: his disorder and everything it entails. which, of course, is not the case, because mickey doesn't love him in spite of his disorder, he loves him completely, and his disorder is just a part of that. he wants all of him, always, and that's a huge plot point in s10 and s11 ("i gotta worry, you're my husband" scene my absolute beloved).

anyway. the short answer is that yes, ian spends a lot of time grappling with his disorder and the realities of life as a bipolar human. he deals with issues regarding his self-worth, his purpose, and his relationships. speaking as a bipolar individual, i can say with absolute certainty that coming to terms with your diagnosis is a long, arduous process that takes many years and a lot of commitment to achieve. it's not easy, and though the writers dropped the ball on a LOT of storylines in the show, they did a pretty damn good job of showing how hard it is to cope and live with the realities of bipolar disorder and everything that entails.

if you ever want to see more of his journey, gallavichscenes on youtube has playlists of all of ian's scenes in season 6, season 7, season 8, and season 9. i highly recommend watching the show in its entirety but if you don't want to do that, i recommend at the very least watching the rest of ian's storyline. it colors so much of his story and mickey's and it's hard to fully comprehend the extent of their relationship without understanding that storyline. i hope this answered your question! sending tons and tons of love 💛

#i hope this provided some clarity on his mindset and storyline!#if you have any other questions feel free to drop in any time 💛#macy babbles #anons

11 notes · View notes

dragonofthestone · 2 years

Text

general mental health related trigger warnings apply. feel free to include more or exclude those facts / test results that take too much time or don’t apply, you can check out this list for more personality-related quizzes to include!

Putting under cut because this is very long and also cause you know lots of potentially triggering shit so no one has to see it unless they choose to.

quick facts

diagnoses: none, It’s early 1900s even with their advancements at best he’s a ‘clumsy child’ and ‘weird’ or something. Modern (or even going off his mainverse) setting: Adhd and or autistic, ptsd, c-ptsd to definitly if only cause of what happened to his lil bro lab stuff aside, does Insomnia count?? I guess that’s more symptom, anxiety, quite likely depression to an extent. He’s got a lot going on okay. Also like being some where on the Ace/Aro spec probably would have been considered a disorder or something back then so lets throw that it too. triggers: Literally anything to do with doctors, hospitals, heavily medical stuff, anything that reminds him of the lab (Needles are big one), the smell of like antispectic/ that sterile clean smell, Alchemy- when/if used near and especially on him. Nope, nope never again. He will jump back fast and try to distance himself from it. Depending on who it is and how it’s done touch. Can’t stand anything snug around his neck- even his scarf is always, always pretty loose. BLINDFOLDS/anything that completely takes away his sight. Having lost part of his vision losing it all TERRIFIES him. Loud noises- like gun shots (Because heightened senses and animal instincts that keep you on edge are FUN ) positive coping skills: Pfft at best he might open up and talk to a friend but he hates worrying and bothering people soo.... negative coping skills: Trying to just ignore it all and hopes it goes away and just trying to bury it down, When alone and espcially if he hasn’t slept well his mind might spiral a bit (and then tries not to think about that either). Just puts on a smile and tells everyone it’s okay not wanting them to worry. attachment style: (Personally I’d say somewhere between Avoiding it and perhaps a bit clingy and very protective if he allows himself to get attached) Disorganized / Fearful-Avoidant love language: (Personal thoughts is all of the above but dependent on the person) Basically all of them- With the thing he loves the most is simple quality time and physical touch, touch is very very dependent on the person tho. Recieving gifts is his lowest love language which I can agree on he loves being given things but honestly he’d value the persons time more then any gift. Just having them in his life is enough for him. myers briggs / mbti: (Is that that weird letter one always confused me tbh - idk I know it’s one I’ve heard of and don’t think I’ve ever bothered with so)

history exploration

are their diagnoses formal ( via a doctor, therapist, etc. ) or informal ( self diagnosis, a hunch, unrealized, etc. )

At best it’s informal but honestly not all. Look his folks love him and his dad may be a doctor but like.. he’ll be the first to admit he doesn’t know much when it comes to psychology. Considering people think/thought he’s strange enough as it is perhaps it’s for the best- It would also involve Tim opening a massive can of worms he’s all but trying to ignore.

Besides it’s 1914 probably better off without it lest he get thrown in, if you excuse the phrase ‘the loony bin’ and probably have more horrendous test and things done on him only making the trauma worse.

have they ever been treated / medicated?

Nope- besides what ever was done to him like his fellow Chimera/ experiements but I don’t think that counts. And most regualr medicine doesn’t tend to work well with his bizzaro body anyway. Only thing that has somewhat been treated was his father managed to find something that could help with his Insomnia but it’s not perfect and doesn’t always work.

have they ever been hospitalized or treated on an inpatient basis?

Not happening. He’d fight tooth and nail even in a modern setting on going.

how old were they when they first started experiencing / realizing symptoms?

Realizing?? Does knowing that he’s different count?? He’s always known he doesn’t fit in and everyone thinks him... Odd. But uh call it deep denial

do they have a family history of mental illness?

Maybe?? Not that it’d matter for him as he’s not even blood related

how was mental health handled / discussed in the family?

I mean his dad tried to help best he could - although can’t say it was really talked about. Mistakes were definiley made (grandfather sure as hell was no help) even his folks realize there are things perhaps they could have handled better but not for lack of love.

what are their thoughts on mental health / their diagnosis?

Uhh, some combination of aware of it and that people are affected by these things (and he’s pretty open and happy to accept people as they are) but in some amount of denial that HE has these things/ if not fully unaware. Like anythting that happens he just considers his normal and doesn’t question it (and Being at the Nest has made him wonder if maybe he isn’t so weird, different or may have just enforced the idea of he’s weird but has fold people who are just as odd now so that’s okay )

in what ways has their diagnosis shaped their life or experiences?

Just a bundle of anxious nerves, terrified of being alone, forgotten. Of hurting anyone who gets close. Wants to be close to people of scared of getting close and losing them. Kept him from making friends, close connections.

symptoms

bold all that are present, italicize those that are resolved or in the history.

depression. anxiety. panic attacks. dissociation (maybe???). derealization. depersonalization. suicidal ideation. self harm. homicidal ideation. psychosis. auditory hallucinations . visual hallucinations. delusions. mania. hypomania. racing thoughts. hyperactivity (But less in a physical way and more mentally hyper active). attention difficulty. flashbacks. nightmares. hyperarousal. hypoarousal. hypersexuality. hyposexuality. psychopathy. risky behavior. catatonia. somatic / bodily concerns. mutism. phobia. agoraphobia. hoarding. obsessions. compulsions. body dysmorphia. hair picking. skin picking. amnesia. illness anxiety / hypochondria. sensory loss (does his loss of vision count?? idk). speech difficulty. comprehension difficulty. communication difficulty. tics. defiant behavior. irritable mood. vindictiveness. aggression. pyromania. kleptomania. paranoia. attention seeking. narcissism. avoidance. dependency. pica. rumination. food restriction. food binging. purging. soiling the bed. insomnia. fatigue. sexual dysfunction. delirium. developmental delays.

note that all of the above are, on their own, normative and typical aspects of human functioning. they become “symptoms” when they last longer than “normal” or when they pose a significant impact on someone’s life / functioning.

explanations / elaborations on any of the above symptoms

A lot of italicized stuff I either consider as maybe things (ideas I’d never considered but make sense given what he’s been through and stuff he already experiences. As well as a lot of things he dealt with in the past (but also may still crop up now and again in his adult life. Everything else you can almost guarantee stems from being “born” and for a time raised in a lab setting as well as his more recent uh stint there. Though some of it is just probably more naturally what he is but to any person would be seen as uh not normal. - The Homicidal thing- he’s a good guy would never actively hurt any one unless pushed but there’s definitely been moments where his mind has wandered the path of what if. He has all this strength now after all and they were the ones who wanted a monster in the first place so what if he... (I can promise he’d never act on it unless pushed and put a position where it was an option then... maybe..) If asked he’d probably deny it

Phobia: He has ALOT Most notably terrible Clausterphobia (as well as like doctors/needles/ being restrained/ loss of vision ect..)

Auditory Hallucinations: Well that gets complicated considering he frequently hears thye screams and wails of the damned animal souls used in his creation- so to anyone else it might come across as him having audittory hallucinations- that being said on rare occaisions he probably does/ has experienced actual hallucinations (but chalked it up to oh he was just imagining it or something)

Visual hallucination I’m letting stay in itallics cause honestly I just don’t know. Like I couldsee him having dealt with them but never really thought about that one - although given his whole host of other issues I mean not out of the realm of possibility

His Hyposexuality in part are probably just his ace/aro spec- obvs they aren’t the same I know and even if he got treatment for them he’d be just as ace/aro spec as before. But honestly yah never thought about it until now but that’s def something he’s got going on

Developemental delays and just anything to do with learning all relating back to him being a lab experiment and basically havbing a very oddly wired brain that trying it’s hardest to function as humanly as it can allow with the animal bits getting in the way. Just another piece of his messy confused puzzle.

The Sucidal/risky behaviour thing is a big iffy maybe?? Like he’s never thought about actually doing it but the thought of who would miss him if he disappeared or if he did this thing would anyone care? has crossed his mind. Espcially early on in his time at the Nest when he waws pretty convinced no one would really give a damn if something happened and might have been more wiling to do something stupid and consequences be damned

Psychosis- eh not frequent if he does have/show it. I’d say mostly might manifest after rather abrupt wake from a nightmare where for a bit his mind is rather muddled and sometimes has a hard time coming out of it

Not on the symptoms list but uh he’s got some questionable amnesia/memory issues as well. Like it’s been an always thing but his most recent trauma’s has kinda made it..worse

Most notably is uh for better or worse he doesn’t remember his little bro is actually uh dead.

Stolen Tagged in spirit by @bidotheuncanny

And just if you see it and haven’t done it consider yourself tagged (Never know who has or hasn’t been tagged you know and hate to be a bother)

#;dash games #Lab Report || about Tim #It's long and incase it could be like tirggering to anyone #gonna be honest for symptoms some of the itallicezed are maybe cause I just never thoguht about it but I could see it as something #he did or does deal with #This whole this is one big tw for a lot of triggering stuff #depression tw #doctor tw #needles tw #ptsd tw #suicide tw #might try some of the other quizzes later and post the results but I'll stick with that for noq #Got any further questions/curiousties pls feel free to send an ask #all caps tw

5 notes · View notes

kirksfattitties · 3 years

Text

asks you can smell the privilege and internalized ableism radiate from

(tw for ableism and other bigoted implications)

i’m bad at reading tone but even i understand that this is 100% you being condescending and trying to cover it up with smiley faces and false sincerity. and i don’t appreciate that.

before i get into deconstructing your shitty ableist argument, i want to explain the reasons i believe in self diagnosis (self-dx):

even professional diagnosis doesn’t start with a doctor diagnosing you. there has to be a reason for seeing the doctor. some people see a doctor in their adult life because they’re struggling, some people are taken by their parents, some people are referred or suggested that they see a specialist. whatever it is, you don’t just see a doctor and they magically give you a neurodivergency. people have neurodivergencies before they see doctors and even if they NEVER see a doctor.

the psychiatry system is flawed in MANY ways and to say that it isn’t means you’re denying the experiences of people with less privledge than yourself. also like psychiatry isn’t gonna suck your dick. you don’t have to be a bootlicker lol

in many places (hi hello i’m from america where our government tries to indirectly kill us by not providing us with adequate healthcare! i and many other people have many issues we can’t get fixed because simply our government cares more about the economy than us), seeing a psychiatrist or a therapist or going to a mental hospital or WHATEVER is INCREDIBLY expensive. and to assume that everyone has access and enough time/money/energy/transportation/whatever to do all of that is classist and elitist.

ANYTHING medical (including mental health) is biased towards white cis men. most studies are done on white cis men/boys. because of this, people who aren’t white cis men (or people who aren’t perceived as white cis men) are often not diagnosed. the system is racist. the system is sexist. the system is transphobic. people don’t know how to diagnose autism or adhd or personality disorders or other neurodivergencies or even mental illnesses in black people and other people of color, in women, in trans people, etc. and GOD FORBID someone be in multiple (or all) of those categories. saying “just go get diagnosed :)” is a privileged statement to make.

shocker! the psychiatry system is also ableist. if you’re already diasabled (whether it be mental or physical) and you see a doctor about ANOTHER disability? the doctor is most likely going to shoot you down. or at least be weary about someone having mutliple disabilities.

also most people who diagnose are neurotypical. they have never and will probably never experience neurodivergency so they can never fully understand it. they operate off of stereotypes of neurodivergent people and usually only stereotypical behavior of neurodivergent white cis men (which, as i mentioned before, is problematic for anyone who isn’t a white cis man). neurotypical diagnosers don’t know the neurodivergent culture and aren’t trained to recognize very common things (like masking for example).

a professional diagnosis can also be weaponized. not everyone can get a professional diagnosis because there are some neurodivergencies (such as autism and personality disorders) and mental illnesses (like depression) that can have legal and medical respercussions to have in your record. trans people can be denied medical and legal transition for being professionally diagnosed. people can lose custody battles for being professionally diagnosed. a professional diagnosis can be used as justification for taking away someone’s body autonomy (especially if that person is also physically disabled).

a LOT of neurodivergencies also have some type of symptom (or symptoms) that make it difficult to interact with people. troubles recognizing facial expressions, troubles understanding certain phrases and types of speech, paranoid about people, audio processing issues, being nonverbal in an environment that doesn’t accommodate for it, overstimulation, extreme social anxiety, discomfort in new situations, problems with eye contact, and a lot more. because like. for many nd people, interacting with people is very difficult and stressful. and hey. if you want to get a professional diagnosis? take a WILD guess what you have to do? FUCKING INTERACT with people! LIKE?? JEHDJJDKEKKDKDKDS. do you know how many professionally diagnosed nd people i know who made their appointment COMPLETELY on their own without help from a parent or family member or friend? LITERALLY ZERO! and i know A FEW nd people who have professional diagnoses! so if someone has social issues that prevent them from doing tasks like calling and making an appointment, showing up for an appointment, talking during the appointment, etc and ALSO doesn’t have familial or friend support (because newsflash! people who are friends/family of disabled people can still be ableist)? almost impossible to get a diagnosis! plus, the diagnosis process is TIME CONSUMING. not everyone can focus on a task for that long and not everyone can miss work/school for that long.

so those are the reasons i support self-dx. (although there’s probably more that i’m forgetting but i have adhd and it’s hard for me to remember things!)

so hopefully you now understand my reasons for believing in self-dx, and perhaps even you’re pro-self-dx now because before you were just uneducated on these issues and how they impact people who aren’t you.

but in case you’re still anti-self-dx and probably hate already-marginalized neurodivergent people, let’s talk about this horrendous ask (series of asks, actually) that i got sent. i feel like i can feel the self hatred and internalized ableism OOZING from this ask and into my inbox, so thanks for that i guess /s

“Sometimes people who self diagnose can take away from those who are actually nd, even sometimes from themselves.”

starting out strong with the ableism on this one by separating people into “self diagnosed” and “actually nd” people. self diagnosed people ARE actually nd

there’s not a limited number of nd resources. this isn’t a math equation of only x amount of people can be nd because there’s only y amount of resources. more people realizing they’re nd will actually MAKE more resources for nd people and will bring more awareness to being nd

even IF someone self diagnosed, and they go back on it later, what harm was done? they learned some coping mechanisms? they made some nd friends? neither of those are problematic and i think they’re both actually very helpful. i think nt people SHOULD learn more about nd people and stuff because i think that will lead to WAYYY less misunderstandings and WAYYYY less ableism

“There are many people who fake nds for attention,”

hey anon, what fucking world do you live in that nd’s are cool enough to fake having? because i would LOVE to live there. like, i literally had a post about my personality disorder (which i will not be specifying) i had to delete because people were sending my anons about how i was “scary” and “threatening” now that they knew i had the personality disorder i have. last year i left a discord server because the ableism i was recieving from not only the members of the server, but the mods as well. there are very few people i know irl who i tell about my personality disorder, but when i tell people about my adhd, they start treating me different. they infantalize me and make fun of me and use “jokes” about stereotypical adhd behaviors to alienate me and they even TELL OTHER PEOPLE without my permission. i was SEVERELY bullied throughout elementary and middle school for being nd. i have been refused job and educational opportunities as well as literal medical attention for being nd. people aren’t “faking” being nd, and if they were they probably wouldn’t be doing it for long because it’s not something that’s EASY to deal with.

kinda ironic that you’re saying people can’t diagnose themselves but that YOU can tell when someone is faking their diagnosis. that’s both hypocritical and a double standard.

masking exists. if you think someone isn’t “acting nd enough” they’re probably masking because they’ve been fucking bullied and harrassed. also you’re probably basing whatever you think nd is on stereotypes. not every nd person is sheldon cooper lol.

this is a side note but can we talk about how you’re literally just taking transmed rhetoric and molding it to fit nd people? like. you really come onto MY NONBINARY NEURODIVERGENT blog and expect me to validate your recycled “but what about the REAL [insert group] people?” ??? like grow up, elitist. you’re not better than anyone else just because you lick some boots 🥾 👅

“and claiming that self diagnosis (and this is just what I interpreted) is just as valid as professional diagnosis”

it is 😌

the only difference between self diagnosis and professional diagnosis is that a professional diagnosis can also get you medicine. not every neurodivergency needs meds and not every neurodivergency can be treated (at this time or even ever). for example, my pd (self diagnosed) doesn’t have a specific treatment but multiple symptoms of the pd (all professionally diagnosed) have specific treatments and medicines that work, so patients are given/diagnosed with/prescribed those instead. also, medicine doesn’t work for everyone! and sometimes people are allergic to or take medicines that will conflict with any new medicine.

“can really devalue the account of someone who actually has a disorder”

here we go again with that “self diagnosed” vs “actually nd” bullshit. literally just say you hate poor people n minorities and leave lol

someone having a different experience than you isn’t devaluing you, but if you’re the one who always has the spotlight maybe you should use your privledge uplift other marginalized people instead of feeling angry when everything isn’t all about you 100% of the time

“I have a second ask”

i don’t want it

“Plus it can be damaging for a person if they self diagnose wrong.”

how? what if they learn information that they wouldn’t’ve otherwise known like coping mechanisms that help them with their own neurodivergencies? that’s definitely not a bad thing

i think it’s funny that you bring up that people can self diagnose wrong and don’t even MENTION that doctors can diagnose wrong. like. you know. the people who GIVE OUT MEDICINE to people. i think it’s MUCH more dangerous when a PROFESSIONAL diagnosis is wrong. what are self-dx people with wrong diagnoses gonna do? read up on nd tips? maybe smoke some weed? drink some coffee? that’s about all they can do with a self-dx. but if a MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL gives you an INCORRECT diagnosis, they can ACTUALLY fuck you up.

“I was recently diagnosed with PTSD, a disorder which I would have never considered I’d have.”

that’s great about your professional diagnosis! i don’t know you but i’m glad you’re finding out about yourself and getting the help you want and/or need /srs

sorry if this sounds blunt, but honestly i’m not surprised you never considered you could have PTSD. based on your asks, you sound like you have a lot of internalized ableism you need to work through and a lot more research about neurodiversity you need to do. being anti-self diagnosis is a common belief among a lot of people with internalized ableism and a lot of these same people are the ones who have no issue with and even SUPPORT auti$m $peaks. many nd organizations that are run BY nd people (like asan) actually support self-dx.

“If I had of diagnosed my own symptoms and then started treating myself or taking precautions based on my self diagnosed "condition", it could of really hurt me.”

how? taking precautions to preserve your mental health is NEVER a bad idea. i’m not ptsd, but someone i care deeply about DOES have ptsd and has shared a lot of the precautions and coping mechanisms for ptsd with me and honestly they’ve been incredibly helpful. it’s almost as if different neurodivergencies and/or mental illnesses have overlap and that’s why there’s a whole community for us to be able to share these resources and information with each other!

the same person was rejected a formal autism diagnosis because of their ptsd, plus the fact that they’re transgender and the fact they have symptoms of adhd. it’s not really my place to talk about their experience with professional diagnosis, but i’ll send this post to them and allow them to add on their experience in a rb if they’re comfortable with that. but it’s almost as if their experience with the professional diagnosis process was unhelpful, harmful, ableist, and transphobic 🧐 and unfortunately this is a pretty common experience

“Also, by self diagnosing, I devalue the account of a person with the disorder l assumed I had.”

how? if someone thinks they’re nd, they have a legitimate reason for thinking so. either they have another neurodivergency than the one they thought they had, or they’re neurotypical and need to figure themself out and have a need for support. either way, they learned more about the specific neurodivergency, more about the nd community, and more about themself. i don’t see how that’s a bad thing.

if you think self-diagnosed people’s experiences inherently have less value, that is straight up ableism. especially considering that other marginalized identities and minorities have trouble getting professional diagnoses, you might also be bigoted in some other way. or at the very least, refusing to acknowledge your privilege.

“only one more I promise”

i don’t want it

“I understand that doctors are expensive and professionals can get it wrong,”

okay. if you understand this, then dm me your information so i can bill you for the cost of my professional diagnoses, the cost for my therapy sessions, the cost for my medicine, and the cost for transportation to and from all these places. PLUS the cost of the work and school i’ll be missing for these sessions. 🤲

“but self diagnosis can be really harmful to yourself or others.”

nah, you’re just ableist and a gatekeeper lol

“If you feel like you have a disorder, go see a psychiatrist, you may have it.”

[remembers when i went to a psychiatrist who diagnosed me with two major symptoms of a personality disorder and said i had other symptoms of the pd as well but refused to diagnose me with the actual personality disorder because i was a minor at the time and he told me “kids don’t have personalities so they can’t have personality disorders”. i understand being weary about diagnosing children with personality disorders because they aren’t fully developed but this dude straight up told me that i didn’t have a personality. this man literally only worked with children so that means he literally never diagnosed personality disorders. this man was literally just lazy and didn’t care about his patients. this man also refused to believe me when i told him the medicine he prescribed me made my symptoms worse and even made me hallucinate. he ignored me and refused to change my medicine so eventually i just changed psychiatrists and they put me on a new medicine that DIDNT make my symptoms worse and DIDNT make me hallucinate. also i looked it up after our session and apparently ONLY people with my pd and related ones experience hallucinations on that certain medication. it’s almost like his refusal to diagnose me and ignoring my symptoms/concerns harmed me. this man also constantly misgendered me and told me that homosexuality and transgenderism should’ve still been in the dsm. like golly, it’s almost as if being queer and neurodivergent in an extremely conservative state is harmful and dangerous. and that psychiatrists aren’t immune from being homophobic and transphobic and ableist.] but yes :) perhaps i should see another psychiatrist in this conservative state :)

“I don't want to undermine anyone's actual experiences, but it can be dangerous.”

then stop undermining people’s actual experiences :)

no ❤️

“If you feel like something's wrong, go see a professional.”

the whole point of the neurodiversity movement is that there IS no such thing as a “normal” brain, so saying that neurodivergent people have something “wrong” with them is ableist.

💰 🤲 hand it over

“I don't want to offend, I just don't want anyone to get mislead or hurt. :)”

you absolutely meant to offend. you literally said that self-diagnosed people’s experiences aren’t valid and have less value than people who have professional diagnoses

i know more people who have been (and personally have been) mislead and hurt by professionals than by simply existing as a self-diagnosed person

also i want to say that being pro-self dx is NOT being anti-professional/formal diagnosis. i think that people should absolutely get a professional diagnosis (if they are able to without negative repercussions)! being pro-self dx is more inclusive of marginalized people (like people of color, women, lgbtq+ people, people with multiple disabilities, etc). pro-self dx is simply just saying that professional diagnosis isn’t the only option

(neurotypical people and anti-self dx people don’t add anything; pro-self dx neurodivergent people are allowed to add with their experiences if they want)

#asks #long post #nd adventures #ableism tw #sexism tw #racism tw #transphobia tw #misgendering mention #medical abuse mention #not star trek #homophobia tw

61 notes · View notes

scripttorture · 4 years

Note

Do you have advice on portraying mental disorders to the public in a way that makes sense? How does one portray multiple disorders at once while making it clear they’re the result of torture? Do you usually name them in the story? I can portray disorders + symptoms that come with mental health problems resulting from torture, but I feel like I’m battling public ignorance before even getting to debunking myths about torture. I have the information, but I don’t know how to portray it organically.

I can tell you what I do, but I think that whether that will work for you or not partly depends on how you approach writing.

If what I say doesn’t fit with your writing style that isn’t a failing and it doesn’t mean you’re ‘doing it wrong’. I don’t think there is one sure fire way to write a complex topic well. And honestly the fact that you’re putting in the time to research and practice is probably more important then any advice I have to give.

I don’t always name mental health problems in my stories. I appreciate that some people think you always should. Usually because they say if you name a disorder the readers can’t deny it or pretend it’s something else.

I have a friend in one of my writing groups. He’s writing a wonderful adventure story with a Deaf protagonist. He repeatedly describes the character as Deaf and all of her communication is in sign language.

He has still had feedback from people six chapters into the story saying they did not realise the character was Deaf.

Here’s my take away from this: While it is important to try your best with anything you portray it is also important to accept that some people just Will Not Get It despite your best efforts.

Shout out to the person who thought I was discussing trans people when I spoke about historical pre-pubertal eunuchs.

Start by thinking about who you’re writing for. What does your ideal reader look like? Whose feedback do you hope for?

Because I think there’s a big difference in how we approach the story/conversation when we’re expecting to talk to people with experience vs people without.

Most of the time I’m writing for trauma survivors. I hope I’m writing stories that other people will enjoy. But I accept in the writing that a lot of people without experience of these things might not… quite connect the dots.

It sounds like you want to write for people who aren’t survivors. To educate. That is just as valid and valuable. It’s a very different approach though.

When I think about naming a mental health problem I think about how that name fits into the story. The main character in my current story is about 11-13. She’s spent a fair amount of time with two adult survivors. But I’m not sure if she has the knowledge or vocabulary to label what she’s seeing and I’m not sure if anyone else would say it to her.

So I put those mental health problems in to the way these characters behave and the way their daughter talks to her friend about her parents.

That approach may not work if the majority of your intended audience have no knowledge about mental health.

And for me in this story that’s part of the point. I expect that a lot of readers will be taken aback when they find out what these characters have lived through and realise that what they’ve seen up to now are symptoms not ‘quirky character flaws’. I expect that to prompt some thought and questioning*.

Linking these illnesses to torture was easy in this particular set of stories because the readers will (eventually) see the characters before and after torture. The change happens in front of them.

Generally I think that’s a good way of establishing the link: explicitly showing the character before and after trauma and highlighting the changes. That can be directly as part of the story, but it can also be done through other characters talking about the past (which can help establish relationships and characters) and by having the survivors themselves reminisce about ‘before’.

It’s also important to remember that you can show symptoms developing without showing torture itself. There’s nothing wrong with choosing to show quiet moments with the character in a cell, even if we’re told they’re cliché. Use every moment that you can make powerful.

There’s also nothing wrong with jumping around in the time line and telling a story in a non-linear fashion. My general point here is that there are a lot of ways you can bring up the character’s past and how they’ve changed.

You can also have a character explicitly state that these symptoms are expected, normal responses to a horrendous situation. Any characters who are doctors, mental health professionals or some types of social workers would be good fits for that. Depending on how you structure the story religious figures (who may be involved in anti-torture work or helping survivors) could work.

If there are other survivor characters then having a discussion between them about what it changed could be a good organic way to bring that up while bringing the characters closer together.

Circling back to writing mental health problems- I do think sometimes a lack of an explicit label can help communicate the experience. I think sometimes people get so caught up on the diagnosis and what they think it means that they don’t engage with anything that goes against that preconceived notion. But… whenever you don’t make something explicit in the text you’re leaving it up to the reader to decide how to interpret it. You’re taking a risk to trust this stranger who picked up your story.

I get the feeling the main thing here is writing it all organically and the fear of messing up.

That’s understandable. Any writing already asks that we juggle. Adding in torture and mental health problems and committing to doing them well adds a lot more implements into the air.

And I guarantee that practice will help. It always does.

Personally I’ve been writing mental health problems for so long that a lot of it has become instinctual. It’s an ingrained part of how I write (for better or worse). Making symptoms an organic part of the character is about making them a part of every aspect of a character’s life.

Which sounds harder then it is. It’s about thinking things through and filtering them through the character’s personality/motivations.

Because as much as we can hope to get a message across primarily we are telling stories. And everything needs to serve that.

Let’s have some examples. I’m going to use two characters from two different stories, Kibwe and Ilāra. Kibwe made a full physical recover from torture. Ilāra ended up with a single below knee amputation. And while there is some overlap in the symptoms I chose for them they’re very different people.

Kibwe’s long term symptoms are memory loss, intrusive memories, hypervigilance and chronic pain and I’m toying with the idea of adding in inaccurate memories as well.

His memory problems are an integral part of his character arc and motivation through the stories he’s in. Despite knowing intellectually that they are a normal response to trauma Kibwe sees them as a personal failing. They made it impossible for him to bring charges and that fed into feelings of guilt and self-blame.

Which is what drives him to stand up for other people.

Every heroic action he takes in the story, every time he puts himself between someone else and harm, is coming out of his own experience of memory loss and possibly inaccurate memories. It’s all because trying to do the sensible thing and report what happened to the police left him feeling useless, powerless.

His intrusive memories feed into this as well. They serve as constant reminders that strengthen his resolve.

In the parts of the story from his perspective all of these memory problems and the effect they have are obvious and there inclusion is natural. Because they colour every single thing he does.

In the parts of the story that are from other perspectives it’s less obvious what the problem is but there is still clearly A Problem.

His intrusive memories are pauses in the middle of doing or saying something. They’re the moments when he screws his eyes shut and breathes deep and has to ask the other characters to repeat themselves. They’re the way he flinches at ordinary things and the way he flies off the handle anytime someone brings beer into his workplace.

His chronic pain is in the days when he can’t do his job. When his hands shake and he snaps. When he takes his frustrations out with the wrong words to the wrong people. And in the distant, awkward way he tries to make amends afterwards.

Internally he barely acknowledges his hypervigilance. But externally he always positions himself so that he can clearly see anyone else in the room. He can always see the exits. He twitches, he turns his head a lot to keep other people in view. And if he can’t see everyone, can’t see a way out then his speech starts to get biting, his anger leaks through.

In contrast Ilāra is very very aware of their own hypervigilance.

They track the people around them and the terrain and rationalise it as sensible. As a precaution. As keeping themselves and others safe. So a portion of any part of the narrative from their perspective is about that: Ilāra's internal paranoid risk assessments.

They also have learning difficulties, which are more obvious from outside perspectives. Because Ilāra has a proud streak; they’re not stupid, they can get by just fine. They’re just letting their friends/found-family help out because it makes them happy. Ilāra does not actually need help.

Contrast with the perspectives of the other characters who are very aware that Ilāra can’t manage a budget. Without help they really can’t manage their own money well enough to keep themselves fed, housed and clothed. Because they never learnt how.

And again this comes up organically because it’s a big part of Ilāra's relationships. There’s a strange push-pull: Ilāra's hypervigilance internally rationalised as protecting these few valued people and those same people stepping in to do the things Ilāra can’t.

They also experience chronic pain. Though I’m unsure whether this is primarily because of torture or because they lost a limb. And in a way the distinction doesn’t matter. Regardless of the cause it is there.

They’re actually a lot better at dealing with it then Kibwe, because they’re much better at lying, acting and disguising their own distress.

Ilāra's other symptoms are less immediately obvious in the narrative but again, they underpin everything.

Ilāra struggles to relate to people, to really value them as people and they are incredibly socially isolated. Their entire social circle is essentially their family and their work colleagues and there is a lot of overlap in that Venn diagram.

They don’t know how to honestly relate to other people. They play parts, putting on masks to get by.

And this comes into the story with every interaction they have. It’s the contrast between their attempts at calculation around outsiders (and how often they’re rejected/dismissed) and their incredibly intense attachment to this small circle of people.

I’m not sure what the end point of Ilāra's character arc is yet. But one of the things that keeps coming up is the question of who they are away from this small circle of valued people. And whether they can value their own life when they can’t ‘protect’ the people they love.

Writing all of this out has made me realise something: it’s a lot easier to bring up symptoms organically when those symptoms become an intrinsic part of the character.

And that can be difficult to grasp at the first attempt. Or the tenth. Or the hundredth.

We are taught to assume health, be it mental or physical. That people have two legs and functional pancreases and don’t relive violent attacks every time they smell beer.

Part of writing these things organically (for me anyway) is breaking that internal image. It’s… building a mind that’s a different shape.

For both of these characters their symptoms are tied to important parts of the long term plot as well as their everyday experience.

Kibwe would be a different person without his memory problems. They inform what he values, how he acts and the ethical lines he draws for himself. His intrusive memories impact his daily life and so does his chronic pain and hypervigilance. And this in turn impacts his relationships with the other characters, some of whom are more forgiving/understanding of his ‘moods’ then others.

Ilāra is driven by their isolation and struggle to connect to others. It leads to them putting incredible weight and value on the few relationships they do have. And that drives them to act, to take risks. Fundamentally they fear loss and however calculating and cunning they can be that fear makes them do some idiotic things. Things that effect the plot and every other character.

Hypervigilance and learning difficulties are their everyday experience. The tension they feel in crowds. The way they assess unfamiliar environments. The way they’ll hand over their pay check to a daughter-figure with a joke and tell themselves that she’s just fussing. The way they’ll get up in the middle of the night and count every item of food in the house.

Writing mental health problems in an understandable way is like writing any other disability. It’s making it part of the character without it being the whole of the character. It’s recognising how any condition limits a character and having a clear view of when those limits are internal (ie the condition itself) versus external (societal, behavioural expectations, other people etc.)

Including these things naturally means constructing scenes that are working at multiple levels. If symptoms impact how the characters relate to each other then they fit naturally into any important relationship moments. If symptoms impact the character’s everyday life then it’s natural for the character to consider them before taking an important action.

When symptoms are related to a character’s long term motivation then it doesn’t feel jarring that they’d come up over and over again. In the same way that bringing up a character’s big-brother figure feels right when you’ve established they have an important, character defining bond.

It takes practice. Writing is work and it takes a lot of skill to make it look effortless.

Right now I think the most important thing to take away is this: keep trying. Write and write and write. Don’t let the fear of getting things wrong stop you from getting better.

I hope that helps. :)

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

*Yes I expect a lot from my readers.

#writing advice #tw torture #writing survivors #writing torture #writing recovery #writing symptoms #choosing symptoms #mental health #mental illness in fiction #disability

52 notes · View notes

nicostolemybones · 4 years

Text

3 Days + 1: Day 3

Solangelo Spring Ball 2020 collaboration with @solangelover

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4

We've been working on this together for a while now and we finally get to post!! I'm linking all the parts together so make sure you reblog them when the links are up and running! You can also find this on my AO3 and FF.N for my collab partner!

@solangeloweek

Nico couldn't sleep. He'd tried- and by tried, he meant closed his eyes for two hours, but his thoughts wouldn't stop racing. It was finally hitting him what a diagnosis of a chronic pain condition would truly mean. It meant pain wasn't temporary. It meant he wouldn't recover. It meant he was disabled. And that wasn't a bad thing, or a new thing- but it changed how he viewed his capabilities. He'd always had aches and pains in general, from fatigue and malnourishment he was sure, chronic nausea too. He knew he'd need more tests to determine the exact condition- there was a fair amount of damage to his limbs from the various injuries, nerve damage that flared up, and aches from the constant fatigue made worse by the damp, but his back had started to really hurt more over time, especially in the mornings. It was a deep, dull ache. His back and hips and shoulders ached and his dumb eyes were prone to inflammation and light sensitivity and blurred vision and his posture was terrible but honestly some days his pain stopped him getting out of bed of a morning.

He reached across his bed for the notes Will had made, skimming them. There were vague notes about watching out for fusing vertebrae and fractures and curvature and further breathing issues and future heart issues- something to do with the aorta and a risk of the valve- something going wrong with it, and that Arthur thing old people get in their joints (arthritis) and some other thing Nico wasn't even going to pretend to understand. Will's writing was terrible, and Nico was confused about ankles and spores written on the page (it did not, in fact, say anything about ankles ankles and spores, just that Will predicted it may have been ankylosing spondylitis, but he'd to run way more tests because onset was usually early adulthood and he couldn't rule out other conditions yet).

Nico put the notes away- he could barely understand them, and honestly, he didn't really want to. Especially because he'd barely been here a few days and Will couldn't accurately diagnose something that fast. He rolled onto his side, although rolling onto werewolf scratches was apparently horrendously painful, so he rolled back onto his back with a huff, gave up, and sat up in bed. Insomnia was here to stay and Nico craved death.

He reached for his water, ecstatic to find a small collection of pills- he didn't bother checking what they were- he just hoped they took the pain away. He stared at the wall, contemplating his life from now on. Maybe he'd have access to mobility aids that would help him get around easier, but also he might have to cut down on his training. He didn't know what to think. The idea of finally having answers appealed to him greatly, but he wasn't sure if he was going to get the answers he truly wanted. That wasn't anybody's fault, though. He decided not to dwell on it until he knew more.

Given the fact he'd be awake a while, he decided to make his way to the bathroom to take a long shower- and he realised he didn't even remember the last time he had showered, or really even stripped his clothes off completely for more than a few seconds. The water was so warm on his body, yet the patter of water was an intrusive sensation he wasn't used to. He was used to sink washes and river washes and bucket washes by now.

His skin was grey. Grey with patches of clean skin where he'd scratched, but otherwise otherwise a flaky grey brown tinge masked the olive skin beneath. He knew his hair was badly matted, and regretted that he'd most likely have to cut it out, both out of shame and pain prevention. He remembered the time when he was a little younger and his hair hadn't been brushed for a while, and it took five hours and a lot of crying to get his hair smooth again.

Nico was shaking. The dirt was so ingrained in his skin that this was his third time soaping himself up, flannel white with dead flakes of skin, trying to make his skin as clear as possible, although he was beginning to suspect that some of the mottled grayish tone over his olive brown skin was more to do with poor health. He'd been in the shower for so long his legs were aching and he was shaking despite the aid of a shower chair, and as Nico cupped his hip joint in his hand, he let out a shaky sob at the realisation that he'd lost weight. He felt fragile, weak, scared- because this wasn't healthy, he wasn't healthy, and he'd been so caught up in the trauma of war that he hadn't noticed the toll it was taking on his body.

He wanted to be healthy. He wanted his skin to return its usual healthy rich tan, he wanted the dull shade of pallor to fade. He looked like a ghost, or like a fresh corpse, drained of colour like there was no blood beneath the darker melanin of his skin. He was paler than he had been as a bouncy kid, sick.

As soon as he was clean enough he exited the shower, looking in the mirror whilst he leaned against the sink to catch his breath. His eyes were sunken, the delicate flesh below looking almost bruised in its grey/purple discolouration, and he looked… normal.

It surprised him.

Because he was so sure his distress was obvious, but he could only really see it in the dull pleading expression he wore in his eyes, the rest of his face neutral, maybe angry at best. He experimented with a pained expression, one so deeply ingrained into muscle memory that it almost felt more natural than resting, and almost cried when he saw he looked angry- or at least, what people told him angry was supposed to look like. He slowly closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath before towelling himself off and picking up his clothes.

His clothes… now they were off his body and his sinuses were full of steam and the pleasant aroma of carbolic soap, he was finally able to detect that his clothes smelled like sour milk at best. The pits of his shirt were stained and particularly pungent, and Nico felt so ashamed that he hadn't noticed. The shirt was stained with various foods, months old, and there were small holes everywhere, like it was mothbitten or badly worn. His jeans smelled like eyeball dissections, a weird smell that whilst not exactly intense certainly wasn't pleasant by normal standards, a slight smell of rotting fresh too- and Nico supposed his skin had been flaking and rotting, confirmed by the inside of his jeans, which was coated liberally in dead skin cells that seemed stubborn to shift despite the copious amounts that fell to the floor. The denim was shiny and worn in some parts, and he decided not to give any more thought to the state of his jeans after thinking about all the lack of sanitation and choice that came with tartarus and the jar.

Nico never wanted his clothes to be discovered. He never wanted anybody to see the state they were in, the stains he didn't want to think about, or the smell of bad hygiene. He scrubbed them furiously in the sink, but he never wanted to wear them again, too small and too worn and too tight and too dirty and too traumatic- he'd endured so much trauma whilst in these clothes. He threw them in the bin, pulling off as much tissue as possible to shove over the top of his clothes in the bin, hoping the weight of them wouldn't raise suspicion.

And then it dawned on him that almost everything he owned was now in the bin so he scrambled to fetch them back out and scrub them until his skin was irritated, but he could swear that he could still smell every unpleasant stain and every unpleasant sweat patch and every unpleasant smell from the garbage. He hadn't realised that the blur to his vision was significantly worse, hindered and impaired and impeded by the hot rush of tears and panic as he pulled on his wet clothes.

He eventually sat back in the bed, cold and wet and hair still matted, his curls damaged and matting worse after months of no care and Nico using the wrong soap. He was shivering violently, but the cold felt almost comforting, a chilled relief he never had in Tartarus. It granted him some relief from the encompassing heat spreading through his body at patchy memories of Tartarus, but he had so much racing through his heads that it wasn't even a prominent thought or a flashback.

The cold soon became insidious, like the cold of the shadows, the dark, the sensation of fading, numb, intangible. His focus still didn't pick just one thought, but now he was hyperaware of them- from the burning throat from the waters of the Phlegathon to the icy nothingness of shadows, to the intrusive thoughts of graphic violence and horrifyingly strange acts of self mutilation to mental bombardment with his triggers.

He felt like existence was this room, was the bedsheets he voila numbly trust and a door with a light void upon the other side. It felt like the rest of the world didn't really exist, like it couldn't exist, because he couldn't perceive, interact with, or process and comprehend that it was real. It felt like he wasn't real, dissociated, seeing and suffering but not there, like he was in a dream or a coma. Was he?

He didn't have time to dwell on it, the sudden nauseous drop in his gut and the lump in his throat and tightening in his chest signifying the start of a panic attack.

The problem was, Nico was either terrible at controlling them, or did not outwardly react at all. The first option usually involved lots of zombies and dead plants, whilst the second usually meant people trying to hug him and talk to him during sensory overload. This time, Nico was alone and he needed to scream it out, but when he tried, he found himself non-verbal.

Everything felt off and it was too bright, too loud, too dark, too clinical- although he'd lost his sense of smell and taste, so thankfully, the clinical scent of antiseptic and blood couldn't assault his senses. But that didn't stop the shrill metallic beep of the heart monitor from giving Nico sharp jolts of pain, the small lights on the various monitors far too bright whilst the electric buzzing of the electrical outlets filled his head- and they all sounded different, because of different devices, which made it worse. And it was blindingly dark in the room now, which made the shadows whisper in a way that had his head pounding, trying to process if they were even real, and it was all just too much-

He clamped his hands painfully over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut so tightly that he could feel the strain in his cheeks. He tugged at his hair, not even a distressed whimper or a cry for help able to escape, trapped by his own lack of voice in a time of distress.

His brain was shutting down and melting down, the racing thoughts unable to process like a browser with too many tabs open, nothing pausing but nothing closing, frozen with plenty of horrifying podcasts and videos playing with no pause at the same time, only it felt like they could touch him, and he couldn't shut them off.

He had nothing left to comfort himself, no way to voice his distress, only able to rock back and fourth in a vain attempt to soothe himself as the onslaught continued, and all he could do was sit there and cry hysterically for hours, hours of distress until…

How long had he been… staring at the wall for?

Nico shivered, emotionally and physically drained. He knew he was still non-verbal, so he didn't call for help. He briefly considered the panic button, but he didn't want to be a burden over a now resolved emotional breakdown of some kind. There had been flashbacks and sensory overload and he was pretty sure he'd experienced some kind of meltdown or shutdown, but he wasn't exactly a stranger to them.

He sat in his bed until the sky began to turn blue and the smallest hints of light eased the crawling feeling of the insidious, suffocating dark of a confined space, a closed door room, a claustrophobic nightmare.

Much to Will's chagrin, he woke to find several of the infirmary's plants officially dead, although as his sleep induced haze lifted with the stabilising buzz of caffeine to help organise his thoughts, he processed that Nico must have had a bad night. He grabbed a quick breakfast and some for Nico and rushed there as quick as he could.

Nico most certainly hadn't slept, his face puffy with both exhaustion and crying. He took a moment to observe, and Nico didn't seem to notice his presence, dissociated. It wasn't until Will moved his hand and little too fast that Nico suddenly snapped out of it, his hypervigilance kicking in as he flinched harshly, looking just about ready to put up a fight.

"It's okay," Will began gently, backing away slightly to show his intentions weren't to violate Nico's personal space boundaries. He waited until Nico visibly relaxed enough to hunch his shoulders before he proceeded to step fully into the room and take a seat on the chair besides him. Nico looked up at him with what looked like hope, or maybe a pleading expression- maybe something mistaken for anger in different circumstances, and whilst Will struggled to read people's emotions sometimes, he'd begun to learn Nico's, folding his expressions away neatly in a mental schema full of flowcharts amend checklists designed to accurately mentally code for different emotions.

Will had certainly observed levels of hypervigilance in Nico, but the way he would glance between the door and the shadows had Will distinctly concerned for his mental wellbeing- he appeared paranoid, skittish, and Will had on occasion poked his head around to find Nico mumbling to the shadows. Will had no way of knowing if that was because of genuine shadows or some form of psychosis that Nico seemed familiar with handling well on his own. He'd considered asking Hazel, but she may not have the exact same powers as Nico, and may not have been able to reliably tell Will whether the whispering shadows were normal or not if she didn't experience them herself. He'd have to ask Hades somehow. But not right now.

Will also didn't need a professional to tell him that Nico was severely depressed- he'd experienced it enough himself to know how to recognise it, and given the trauma that Will already knew about Nico, there was no logical way that Nico could be okay.

Most demigods presented with symptoms of PTSD, and he recognised the most similarities between Percy and Annabeth and Nico's symptoms and severity, most likely because to some degree they had the shared trauma of Tartarus. Some demigods with traumatic backgrounds had gone on to develop some form of psychotic disorder, or OCD or eating disorders, and there were a few traumagenic systems at camp who Will had gotten to know personally. So Nico having C-PTSD wasn't a surprise. Of course, Will needed a lot more time than a few days to accurately assess and diagnose Nico, but he was fairly confident that Nico was presenting with many symptoms of PTSD and likely had been long enough to officially meet the criteria for a PTSD diagnosis.

And then there was Nico's overall neurodivergence- of course, the ADHD and dyslexia were confirmed, but Will suspected that Nico could be on the spectrum, like Will was. Autism wasn't uncommon in demigods either, sharing many similarities to ADHD. They were practically brain cousins.

Will pulled himself out of his musings, focusing on how to talk to the trembling boy before him. His clothes looked wet, and Nico made as if to speak before looking sadly down, shrugging and offering a half smile greeting that Will had become familiar with during Nico's quieter days. Nico struggled anyways with communicating and expressing his emotions, and he was even worse at reading them- as a general rule, unless he knew you well, Nico didn't appear to pick up on body language cues indicating someone's distress unless they cried or explicitly stated how they felt. Yet, once Nico was clued in, and was able to rationalise the situation by drawing parallels and drawing from his own personal experiences, Nico tended to grasp a very nuanced and deep understanding of exactly how somebody was feeling, allowing him to better empathise- what was Will's point again?

Will let out a frustrated huff, wishing his brain to just do the focus thing on his patient. And then he realised he hadn't taken his meds in a few days and oh. That explained it. Will realised he definitely hadn't showered in like- at least a week, and he definitely needed a shower but his usual soaps were in his cabin and he couldn't be bothered to get them- but he could use that deodorant, the musk one with the cinnamon and citrus undertones in the black spray can or he could just use old spice but what about his strawberry shampoo would it go-

Will took a deep breath, looking back to Nico. Right. Doctor, patient, mental health- Will absolutely needed to suddenly start a full on a case study project- no, never mind, focus. Somehow. Please. Right. Okay. Breathe.

Will gave Nico a gentle smile, taking out his stim putty to squish in his hand to ground himself and focus better. Nico usually would have spoken by now, so Will figured that he must have gone non-verbal- and now Will's focus to do that case study project was gone forever, great, well done, you're a failure Will, oh great, now your mood's dropped, just great- Nico must have had a meltdown maybe, although that didn't explain the damp clothes.

"Hey Neeks," Will began gently, "do you want some fresh clothes?" Nico looked at him pleasingly, before curling in on himself with his knees bunched up and gripping his shirt as though it was a comfort to him. It took Will a moment to decipher, but he figured Nico wanted dry clothes but was reluctant to part with his clothes.��

"I can get you some pyjamas," he said softly, quietly- he didn't want to overwhelm Nico if the guy had just had a meltdown, because sensory overload sucked. "You could put your clothes on the chair to dry." Nico seemed to consider that, before giving a slight frown and pout, but a slight smile. He was considering it, but still reluctant.

"The pyjamas are cotton," Will continued, "with the labels cut out, and the seam is sewn down so it isn't scratchy." Nico nodded jerkily, and Will smiled reassuringly, standing up slowly with a determined look in his eye. "I'll go get those for you, we don't want you catching hypothermia now, do we? You don't need pneumonia with the state of your lungs right now."

Will fetched the pyjamas and granted Nico the privacy to change whilst he quickly took his meds- which reminded him to set about figuring out a treatment plan for Nico going forwards- then returned to see the pyjamas fitted well and Nico looked comfortable, discreetly rubbing the soft fabric against his cheek, eyes closed. Will liked the smell of the fresh linen more than he liked the feel of them, but Nico appeared to be touch sensitive, perhaps explaining why he was so easily overwhelmed by touch. Will had a sense of smell like a sniffer dog, and hearing that left him unable to find silence or sleep without loud music blaring through his headphones.

"Does that feel any better," Will asked, and Nico nodded, turning pink and smiling slightly. "Is it okay if I ask you some questions and you can nod or shake your head? Nod if yes, shake your head if you need some time first, it's okay. Nico nodded gingerly, and Will gave a gentle smile.

He went through the standard questionnaires first, looking for markers of depression and anxiety levels, and finding, unsurprisingly, that Nico was at crisis point. Will briefly considered keeping Nico in the infirmary, but he didn't see Nico as particularly needing that kind of treatment. Nico would be better coping in comfort.

Nico gradually became verbal again, and finally Will was able to investigate deeper. Nico was slowly beginning to open up, and Will was more than happy to listen, perhaps a little intrigued.

"It feels like… I'm not here, like I don't exist. Like I'm just… observing, but I'm not… feeling. It feels like I'm in warm heavy water, and I'm stood outside, and inside is bright and colourful, but I don't have the energy to move my limbs and step inside. Sometimes I'm able to say hello but I can't move when I'm invited in, I can only stand there. And I want to, I want to go inside. But I can't, and instead of coming outside to me, people carry on the party, and I'm just… outside, creepy. To them, I'm a disembodied voice, and ghost in the dark. An apparition with a slightly off centre smile and an unsettling artificial expression. I'm in an alley and I beckon them and they freak and run. I'm like something from The Magnus Archives to them, like the Angler Fish episode. And I don't feel empty, I feel… heavy, but like I'm on cotton wool. Everything feels off, all of the time, too dark and too bright all together, like shining objects in low light. I want to scream for help, and I am screaming, but nothing comes out. And when I scream I scream loud and their eyes turn in and their ears fold back and their mouths seal shut and their hands become bound and they carry on as though everything is perfectly normal, like I never even existed in the first place. They turn a blind eye because I make them uncomfortable, not realising how uncomfortable they make me too. And it buries me in a warm coffin, scratching to be let out whenever somebody uses me."

Will didn't know how to respond to that. There was no sane way to respond to that. Partly because Will had a vivid imagination and now had a horrifyingly graphic mental image in his head that was guaranteed to give him nightmares tonight. But Will loved horror, so he ended up distracted thinking of Nico as a horror podcaster. Occasionally his voice took on a velvet husk with a slow manner of speaking that made his voice perfect for horror. The other times, it was horribly squeaky and breaking. Then Will remembered that he was procrastinating assessing Nico's mental health. "You should be a horror writer," Will said, to buy himself some time to process and respond.

"I wanna do scare acting or horror podcasts," Nico replied, "so people are supposed to find me creepy. It hurts when I'm not trying to be creepy and people find me creepy. But if I'm intentionally creepy, I can make it fun, and maybe, when I reveal the real me, it's such a far cry from my scaresona that they don't register me as creepy."

"Scaresona-" Will repeated, trying to fully process that like it was a cursed post on tumblr.

"Yeah," Nico replied casually, "maybe a zombie because I feel like one. I wouldn't be a ghost, because I'm already invisible."

"You're not invisible to me, Nico," Will cemented in ages firm but gentle tone. "You matter, I'm listening to you, and I believe everything that you are saying to be true. You're not faking or attention seeking- actually scrap that, the term should be support seeking- I believe that your struggles are valid and I would like to support you through this."

"Thanks, Will…" Nico began, mouth open as if to say something when the infirmary doors burst open. There was yelling, and Will's pager beeped not soon after, and he had to prioritise the medical emergency first.

"I'll try be back later, definitely in the morning, okay? Take care, death boy!" And with that, Will switched to clinical cold emergency combat medic. Didn't mean he was quite used to the bad smells, though. Nobody ever really was. He vaguely remembered the joke spray liquid ass was used by the military to train combat medics for the smell of the battlefield, and with one last thought to the ironic hilarity of that, Will was at the side of the patient and ready to save a life.

86 notes · View notes

aion-rsa · 3 years

Text

Shameless Season 11 Episode 9 Review: Survivors

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This Shameless review contains spoilers.

Shameless Season 11 Episode 9

“The only thing that’s permanent is impermanence. Change is the only constant…”

Change is not an easy thing. This entire farewell season of Shameless has functioned as an examination of change from many different angles, but the characters have reached a point where they have to stop running and confront these developments now that there are only three episodes left in the series.

“Survivors” is a busy episode that puts every character outside of their comfort zone and in the middle of transformations of various severities.

Kevin taking over parenting duties for an afternoon or Carl’s transfer to another police department are hardly as drastic as Vee’s mother moving from Chicago or the ultimate fate of the Gallagher home, but they all light a fire under everyone in the same way. The Gallaghers are a resilient family of lovable cockroaches, but “Survivors” pushes the message that if you don’t move with the changes then the changes will definitely move you.

The past few episodes of Shameless have largely been preoccupied with the sad decline of Terry Milkovich, which has also functioned as a strong counterpoint to the Gallaghers’ own situation with Frank’s health. Terry is now gone, but his spirit heavily lingers in “Survivors” and it drives forward some of the episode’s most rewarding material. Mickey casually echoed the sentiment, “family is family,” a few episodes back and Terry’s death has prompted Mickey to truly stand by these words. It leads to some growth that surprises Mickey more than anyone and he’s constantly at odds with the confusing and raw feelings that bombard him all episode.

Mickey is typically one of Shameless’ broader characters and this season has thrown him into several caricature-like situations that take advantage of his no filter attitude. Sincerity is not typically the character’s strong suit, yet Mickey’s free floating grief over his dad is actually compelling, new territory for him. He and Ian involve themselves with an earnest and sweet story that does manage to humanize Terry in a way and almost act as an “origin story” for his despicable racism.

Some of Noel Fisher’s best work from the entire series is in this episode as he wistfully reminisces over horrendous moments from his childhood. It becomes a little repetitive, but Ian’s deadpan reactions to Mickey’s “precious moments” all land and it’s a refreshing change of pace to have Ian act as this grounded foil. Mickey’s turn as the sympathetic one in this adventure is also the right approach. Mickey and Ian’s characterization was a little questionable at the start of this season, but it’s comforting to see these past few episodes really hit the sweet spot of their relationship.

Frank launches into an important chapter from his past just as Ian and Mickey get to learn more about Terry’s younger years. Frank’s plan is considerably more maudlin than Terry’s elegy over unrequited love. The idea that Lip is selling the house stays in Frank’s head long enough that he launches a scheme to get the necessary money to just purchase the house himself. Frank has been involved with lots of ridiculous shenanigans over the course of Shameless, but none have been as deluded as a plan to rob the Art Institute of Chicago. This would be a near impossible task for even an accomplished thief, so a severely impaired Frank doesn’t seem like he has the best odds of turning this scheme into a reality.

“Survivors” has some fun as Frank tries to get the (literally) old gang back together, but this wild pipe dream transforms into a morbid reality check for Frank. He’s surrounded with signs of decay and he’s unexpectedly forced to come to terms with how he’s also at the end of his rope. Frank gets caught up on if he’ll still have an effective wheelman for his art heist when he should appreciate that he somehow still has people in his corner that care about him. Frank’s family is infinitely more valuable than some treasure.

Some of the most interesting moments from this season of Shameless involve Frank’s frailty and how everyone treats him after they become aware of his diagnosis. It gives each of his interactions a little extra impact and pathos. “Survivors” chips away at the idea of Frank’s legacy in yet another interesting fashion, yet in the end it seems like he was somehow able to pull off this art heist entirely by himself?

Speaking of crime, Lip was fully at odds with Brad in the previous episode and ready to take things into seriously dark territory, but now they’re pulled together more tightly than ever before. Their volatile situation becomes even more combustible after they learn that their former employer has deep ties with the mafia because it seems like 90% of Chicago is corrupt according to this season of Shameless. The awkward Godfather-esque music cue that’s used when Lip and Brad meet the crime family also doesn’t improve upon the scenario in the way that the episode thinks that it does. It’s a very unusual way to seemingly resolve the heavy danger that’s followed Lip for a quarter of the season.

On the other side of the law, Carl’s reckless act of altruism with the vice squad reunites him with his former partner on the eviction squad. It’s nice to have Joshua Malina back in this nebbish role and it seemed strange to just have him pop in for a single episode before. His new zen attitude about destiny raises some superfluous questions for Carl, but the character doesn’t feel that different from before and this material fails to amount to much. Carl’s work for the police has made for rewarding character development, but his constant rotation throughout Chicago’s police departments is beginning to feel repetitive and aimless.

Between Carl’s work on the eviction unit and the prospect of the Gallagher house going up for sale there’s a lot of focus on whether the lack of a home means the lack of a family. Vee finds herself in a situation that oddly parallels the Gallaghers’ current instability when her mom moves away from Chicago and tries to establish new roots in Louisville. Vee is mostly critical that her mother’s actions are impulsive and that they won’t last. She worries about losing a connection with her mother and it becomes another situation where everyone is so caught up on what they might lose that they lose stock of what they already have. Veronica’s maturity with her mother gets juxtaposed with Kevin’s complete regression and failure to parent for less than 24 hours. It does not go well and it’s slightly misguided that this parental disaster ends as a punchline and not a cautionary tale.

Vee’s mom has a fancy new house in Louisville, but Liam is still left worrying if he’ll have any home at all if the Gallagher residence goes on the market. In perfect Liam fashion he attempts to resolve his paranoia over the future in a manner that’s more professional than every other Gallagher. There’s an inherent comedic nature during Liam’s attempts to get put into a foster home or become adopted so that he’ll have a place to live after his house gets sold.

They’re exaggerated moments, but Liam’s concern is very real and it remains impressive to see how self-sufficient he’s become. He continually thinks rationally about the future while his siblings ward off the mob and pray that they don’t have any sexually-transmitted diseases. Honestly, put Liam in charge of the family and they’ll be thriving within six months.

All of the chaos in “Survivors” begins and ends because of Lip’s stubborn attitude over selling the house. Lip’s insistence to force his family to move just because his life is imploding is still super problematic, but thankfully everyone finally just talks to each other and gets their fears and doubts out in the open. The final moments of “Survivors” are genuinely nice and it’s long overdue that Lip actually communicates and listens to the people that he cares about.

It’s really sweet that Lip promises Liam that he’ll be a part of his home and that the family’s sense of community isn’t going to change, even if their living arrangements do. However, this is also something that should have happened at the same time as Lip’s initial proposal to sell the house rather than the renegade sledgehammer that went through the wall. It’s led to a few episodes of unnecessary drama, but the Gallaghers are at least on a collective front now as the series heads into its final three episodes.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

“Survivors” is a confident step forward for Shameless. It figures out how to balance the series’ more tender sensibilities with the wackier antics that were more prominent during the show’s earliest seasons. Characters operate as functional units and finally listen to each other before they’re left with fractured relationships that no longer feel like a family. There’s still a lot of growing up to do, but not that everyone’s on the same page and working towards a common goal it actually feels like Shameless might end in hugs rather than heartbreak.

The post Shameless Season 11 Episode 9 Review: Survivors appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3c7WTT3

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

1 note · View note

mamaladykt · 4 years

Text

Quarantine Q&A

I was tagged by @queenrisa14 which whaaaaaaa!? God when will the Sally Fields "they like me!!!" feeling go away when ever I am tagged in anything? Does it ever? I'm always stunned people are aware of my existence. Thanks girl! Anywho!

Are you staying home from work/school?

Soooooooo, about this. Hehehe. I was working. I was considered essential. To the point that my 4 day a week job turning into 7 days a week, 12 hours a day for TWENTY days straight. It took a toll. On me and my kids. So, because my kids are now out of school for the rest of the school year, my schedule not allowing for any flexibility or a leave of absence, I put in notice last week and my last day was Monday night. I felt really good about it, felt free, came home tuesday morning and filed for unemployment on grounds of childcare needs (which was immediately flagged 🙄😭) and slept. Today was a new day, started cleaning my house for the first time in over a month...... and it went down hill from there. Horrendous night and not feeling great about the uphill battle that will be getting my kids (and husband) back on track. TL;DR yes I'm home, it's a mess.

If you're staying home, who's with you?

That would be my 5 children, my oldest daughter is 11 (dear God tween hormones are no joke!) and my 4 sons, who are 9, 7, 5, and 3. My husband is still working and I miss him during the day and wanted to boot him out tonight. Sigh.

Are you a homebody?

Yes!!! I'm an introvert. If I was well and truly alone, I would never need to leave my house. I have no issues with the idea of ordering groceries online, I just ordered my first ever iPad online and I'm trying to navigate buying glasses and contacts online (PM me with links of websites if you've done this and had a good experience). I just need Amazon to get their shit together and ship my stuff! This isn't the 90's it doesn't need to take a month to get me something. Gah! Also, if I could figure out how to get my ADHD diagnosis from home via telemedicine that would be greeeeeeeeat. Seriously never want to leave my house again.

What movies have you watched recently?

Hahahahahaha!!!!!!! Omg you think I watch movies... That's adorable. Yea, noooo. The last movie I watched was Frozen 2 when it hit Disney+ a month ago. I am, however trying to gear myself up emotionally for watching Avengers Infinity War and Endgame this Sunday. It's been a year..... I'm still not ok. And I haven't watched since that fateful day in the theaters. No seriously, I cried last night just hearing the opening notes to the IW TRAILER! The trailer y'all. "There was an idea....." 😭😭 Ugly sob.

Shows?

Umm, I was watching Outlander at work. I binge watched the first four seasons in like a month back in January. Couldn't wait for season 5 and lost all steam once it started. I dunno. I think it's the Brianna story line. Other than that I honestly throw on Downton Abbey or Victoria again when I need something to watch. (can you tell I have a thing for accents...) I'd love to binge watch in order from the beginning The Big Bang Theory! If anyone knows where I can get the series to stream, let me know. I've watched it out of order for years and years and love it so much but seeing it start to finish sounds like a perfect quarantine activity.

What event was cancelled that you were looking forward to?

My kids going to school on a daily basis?? Lol. No, you know what's funny. I've never gone, didn't have plans to go, but I actually shed a tear when they cancelled Comic Con 2020 in San Diego. I was hoping to go next year so it was a mix of disappointment over not streaming this year's panels/the historical significance of there not being one and feeling like next year is now unattainable because all the 2020 ticket holders will get that one? It's weird and all hypothetical and stupid. Honestly I'm a mom and I don't get to do anything. The most exciting thing on my "to-do" list that was postponed was the Black Widow movie. I have waiting 10 goddamn years for my girl to get a solo movie! TEN YEARS!!!! I needed this to distract from the 1 year anniversary of losing Tony Stark Endgame. Gah. I'm also holding my breath that Sailor Moon Crystal the movie doesnt get postponed from September to God knows when. And my October trip to Orlando for Girl Scouts USA Convention isn't canceled. I'm going to Disney World!! If Florida isn't stup.... Yea ok. 😑😒😞

What Music are you listening to?

My Seiya playlist. I have a playlist of music that I think Seiya would sing. Cuz I love him and he's cheeky and in my head he's a weird mix of Adam Levine and Brendon Urie and that's what the playlist is full of. And this one song by Dermot Kennedy called Outnumbered that is just, IMO Seiya's parting words to Usagi. That and I'm kind of obsessed with Dance Monkey by Tones and I.

What are you reading?

Other than articles about the CARES act regarding unemployment benefits, reviews of cases and accessories for my new iPad Pro (it's the 12.9 and I had no idea I bought the big one and that it's basically a touch screen iMac and I'm overwhelmed with trying to find something to protect it from my children....) or homeschool tips and tricks for kids with autism.......

So help me God, I am reading The Unintentional Seduction of Chiba Mamoru if it freaking kills me. It's been on my to-read list for freaking ever and I am dying that I haven't read it yet. And kind of hating myself. Come on KT, get your ish together sis!!! I'm sorry @floraone !!

What are you doing for self-care?

I quit my job for one. That was the ultimate self-care move. That and for my kids.

Also, Online shopping? I have purchased things for myself that I have never done before. Makeup which is so fun. Like I bought the whole Sailor Moon makeup collection from Colour Pop. I got my first Morphe palette. And big girl concealer from Tarte. Yaaaaas! My iPad and all the pink accessories I can find. A pink throw blanket because my kids have a million blankets but we have no throw blankets for the couch. What the hell? And my favorite thing, I bought a bunch of stuff from teepublic with my profile picture on it from the artist @briannacherrygarcia (seriously her work is amazing! Go check her out, I can't get enough) that created it. I mean, how cool is that. I'm usually too poor to support the content creators for which I am so grateful for. After working three 84hr weeks, I figured I deserved to splurge on something that wasn't in anyway shape or form a need. A pure joyful want. Cant be excused as anything else. It felt so good. I got stickers and an art print and a coffee mug (because coffee mugs are my favorite thing and I somehow do not have enough of them so if anyone wants to send me pretty coffee mugs!) And a hoodie!! I'm so excited.

That last question is amazing. I was feeling so down and overwhelmed by just how bad my home and everyone in it was doing after I was working so much. I am not exaggerating saying it going to take weeks to put this back together and help my kids get used to having rules and structure again. Because it wasn't gonna be a quick fix I was hating life. But listing all the ways that I managed to take care of me, something I never do, because that's what I needed the last month to literally survive, reminded me that I am in a good place and that I have time now to get this done. It took a month to get to this level of chaos it only stands to reason that it's probably gonna take a month to put it back. And shit it's not like we're going anywhere. What's the rush? ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Thanks @queenrisa14 for this! This was great and fun and so needed for my psyche. I tag anyone on my follows list who hasn't done this. Do it and say I tagged you.

MamaLK says take care of you and the rest will fall into place! 😘

#quarantine activities #self care #we got this #tagged

10 notes · View notes

konohagakurekakashi · 4 years

Text

Rinne-whoops: Who Died and Brought you Back Out?

Continued from here (As the 'Read More' option died)

@minaa-munch

@senjutsunade

Kakashi honestly hoped that his touch and words would put the man, Iie, Minato at ease; that it would root him back into the present and return the even intakes of air to his lungs. However, being an 'emotionally-numb' cactus meant that Kakashi couldn’t hope to find the right ways in which to provide comfort whenever it was most needed, no matter that he always had the best of intentions at heart.

He had seen it when he endeavoured to console Rin by telling her Obito’s secret: That he truly loved and cared for her and would be glad that she was the one that was safe; even though those words weren’t what the Kunōichi needed or wanted to hear, as they just made her tears swell and surge faster; her shoulders quaking with the weight of an added burden. He noted it when he attempted to console Itachi, by providing half-hearted advice and a semblance of support without really /knowing/ the gravity of the Uchiha’s situation. It was evident in the way that he so carelessly told Sakura that everything would return to the way that it was, if she would just hold out hope for long enough, sparing her immediate hurt, sure; but sowing the seeds for a deeper, more insalubrious resentment.

It didn’t matter that he wanted to believe all those words spoken just as much as the people he said them to. What mattered was that they were more damaging than the actions he wanted to protect the people, his people, from. In fact the words should never have been uttered at all—So, when those cerulean hues flickered back to his own, dilated with the vast amounts of confusion, dread and anxiety they needed to contain—Kakashi felt the spittle dry on his tongue and turn it to cotton. Because shit, he ended up being careless once again.

The echo of his words were met with the uncertain whisper of his name, like it was a cork tugged off a carafe cradling raw madness; for as soon as the murmur died on the blonde’s lips, his breath hitched before turning into new, uneven gasps. Kakashi paused, his hold on the Kage’s shoulders loosening while he turned to glance back at the hovering Chūnin. Kakashi wasn’t sure what his expression looked like, what it conveyed, but one blink had the Iryō-nin steeling her features afore she pranced forward with professional intent, hands already alight in the mint glow of the Mystical Palm Technique.

A stunted nod met her actions, before Kakashi’s duel-coloured hues flickered back to the juddering form of his mentor, wanting so badly to apologise. He wasn’t exactly sure what he would apologise for. For not being there on the night that the Kyūbi attacked and doing his part as Minato’s supposed “Right-hand Man”? For not playing a bigger part in Naruto’s upbringing or development as a Shinobi? For allowing a sordid terrorist group to turn the Hidden Leaf that the man literally /died/ to protect into a crater of dust and debris? Or was it for having such horrendous bedside manner?

Kakashi knew the Namikaze, knew that he was a man that strived toward fact and the logical. If the Kage’s prior answers were an indication, it would be that he remembered dying, remembered the murky depths of the Shinigami’s stomach that his last Jutsu condemned him to...so /bluntly/ stating the opposite would put the man ill at ease. If what Kakashi assumed happened, happened (because he would not be Kakashi , did he not at least have some sort of working theory) the man’s mindscape had to be a tangled, knotted web. Kami knew Kakashi was very confused when he woke up after his demise and he had only been gone for a few minutes, nothing compared to years, a bloody /decade/. Kakashi shifted, his lips parting to offer an explanation, before the tomoe in his left socket twirled, taking note of the urgent moulding of bright green chakra within the man’s coils, the green faintly tinged with perplexing red.

In an instant the Jōnin pushed away from the lip of the sarcophagi, his fingers curling about the elbow of the Iryō-nin who had her hands resting against the Kage’s ankles with the mind to start on her assessment of his condition. “Everybody down!”

His voice echoed within the ante-chamber, followed by the alarmed shriek of Hakui as Kakashi all but dragged her down to the dusty floor with him. A turn of his head revealed that both Kotetsu and Izumo (true to their shinobi nature and training) had dropped to the ground without further question, just as a sharp gust of wind pulsed from the Kage and through the cavern. A shower of musky, paper bits and linen revealed that the Elemental Chakra didn’t just slice through what remained of Minato’s binding, but managed to splice the top-most shelves of the archives, along with the files and scrolls that they contained. Izumo, realizing this couldn’t help but moan, forehead still pressed firmly against the cool Earth. “Oh man, Shizune-san is going to kill us, kill us!”

Kakashi didn’t pay his distress, or the downpour of shredded history any mind, sitting up to focus on the Kage who was now seated upright within his rock coffin, fingers folded tightly about the edge, whilst he attempted to reign in his chakra. “I’—“ Kakashi faltered as he inched forward, but didn’t rise, didn’t attempt to find the right words as the Kage’s arms rose to tug roughly at his own tuffs and scrape nails against his scalp. It looked painful and the Hatake hated how grossly ad-lib he was for the raw emotion emitting from the blonde in waves. What could he possibly say? What could he do? He didn’t want to risk making matters worse for the Kage...But then there was movement on his left as Hakui rose back to her feet, her young features soft and placating as if approaching a difficult patient.

“Etto...Yondaime-sama…?” The girl inched closer, but when it was clear that Minato wasn’t intent on stopping his self-damaging movements, the Kunōichi’s glowing fingers settled on the insides of his wrists, minty chakra seeping out in a well-controlled burst. The effects seemed to mirror that of the Kanashibari no Jutsu, as the Kage’s arms fell limply to his sides. "... Yondaime-sama... I'll start with your assessment now..." Hakui didn’t waste any more time as she started on the Eisei Shindan or Diagnosis Jutsu; though Kakashi thinks that he did catch her explaining her movements in a low whisper, while her hands hovered down the Kage’s seated form (he couldn’t be sure if it was for the blonde’s benefit or her own).

Kotetsu and Izumo watched the interaction with apprehensive eyes, coming to stand at Kakashi’s side once he settled back onto his feet. “Senpai…How can this be possible?” Kakashi, sighed, calloused digits rubbing at his lids. “Naruto mentioned that he spoke to the Fourth during his battle with Pain; I don’t know the specifics, but I reckon it had something to do with the eight-trigram seal. The fact that he’s here now…in the flesh instead of Naruto’s mindscape…can only mean that Pain’s last Jutsu probably responded to the Yondaime’s chakra imprint, or what was left of it after fixing Naruto’s seal. I can’t be sure…honestly…. I’m not as versed in Fūinjutsu as the Sealing Corps.”

Though Kakashi utterance of his thoughts rang clear the Jōnin had no idea if the former Kage could even hear/comprehend him due to his state. Hakui whom finally finished with her initial examination turned around with a furrowed brow. “I don’t note any depressed brainstem reflexes, deterioration or damage to any of Yondaime-sama’s internal tissue. Yes, his breathing is irregular, he shows no response to pain stimuli—but other than his enflamed chakra pathways, there’s no physical tells that he…that sixteen years have passed since his deat--uhm...the Demon-Fox Attack….his symptoms seem to be due to psychological stress.”

Kakashi's teeth worked on the flesh of his cheek, gaze cutting back in the direction of the slumped shinobi. “So, I can move him, Hakui-san?” With a curt nod as his answer, Kakashi then shifted, gloved palm rubbing at the nape of his neck. “In that case, I think it’s time we go see an old friend, Sensei.”

#konohagakurekakashi #Hatake Kakashi [The Scarecrow]#Namikaze Minato [Flake-sensei]#Senju Tsunade [Godaime Sake-sama]#Otherwise Known as: Sleeping Beauty™#AU Verse: Rinne-whoops #Ressurection AU #Read More option is a ROOT Agent Obviously #We need a seperate tag for all of this angst that I cannot handle.#Queued #Queue no Jutsu #Minaa-munch #senjustunade #The app and the site gave me so much trouble over this. QQ

3 notes · View notes

graciouslypure · 4 years

Text

Twenty twenty

It is 8th of January 2020.

Honestly, I cant feel the transition of the decade at all (if it was not for the count down on tv2).

Late December 2019 and early January 2020 saw us in such profound situations, an awakening to a humble start of the year, start of the decade.

Fire in Australia, bombing here and there, flood, pandemic, etcetera etcetera.

Through December, my sister suffered from a severe headache, that wont allow her to even stand up properly, affecting her whole head, down to the neck and right shoulder. She depended on painkiller to go through everyday. To make it worst, as a final year dental student, she could hardly attend to her patients. This went on for weeks and the GP suggested her to see a neurologist as they could not detect her problem. She kept on delaying coming back as she feels that she had a lot to complete and on the other hand, she had'nt prepared for any diagnosis.

As she could barely handle the continous and horrendous pain, she flew home and set an appointment with a neurologist at a private hospital (after several arrangements). At this time, I was lucky because my little brother was around, along with my sister's best friend to accompany us. She undergone CT scan and MRI, and was suspected glioma, with diffused hyperintense lesion on the right cerebullar cortex. As laymen, we were so worried with this condition, as the specialist suggested another MRI if the pain persist after some medication, thatvis after two months. However, ibu consulted our cousin and a family friend, and they asked to seek for second opinion.

Allah is great!

Ibu's friend suggested another specialist in a government hospital who subspecialised in neurointerventional radiology. He suggested that my sister come home again by end of that week as her condition may deteriorate fast and January would be too late. So again, she came back in the same month, underwent another set of MRA and MRI and it was confirmed right pica territory infarction. There were necrosis tissues in the blood vessels, inhibiting it to supply blood and oxygen to certain area of the brain. In simple term, its stroke! Stroke? Stroke, people! It's a mild stroke but if goes untreated, could cause paralysis. Condition is not reversible but can be prevented in other places. Once the brain cells are dead, they can not be regenerated. Naudzubillah min zalik.

I have to state that my sister is an active, healthy 26 year old. She goes gym at least twice a week and eats healthily. I mean: she cuts sugar, and drinks plain water most of the time too! What could possibly go wrong? So the specialist referred her to another neurosurgeon for the treatment management. Alhamdulillah, it wasnt a rare case, a lot of older people gets them, but in youngsters, statistically only one case per year.

Now, just as my sister flew back to her place, my son was down with a high fever. This was the last day of 2019. Just four days before, we went for a follow up with a paedatrician on his speech delay at another hospital (the last appointment it seemed, as fahim has overcome his problem, alhamdulillah). We went to our usual outing to the mall on the weekend before too. On the first day of 2020, we went to see a GP as Fahim's temperature didnt subside even after pcm supp. So the GP prescribed diclofenac sodium (NSAID) (yes, wait for it!) besides antibiotic and flu syrup. We happily returned home cause after one whole day, that's the only medication that made Fahim's temperature back to normal. So we continued giving him the supps up to day 4, having used 4 whole supps...

On Day 3, my husband then catch a cold too. His, was different. He could feel the heat and pain, concentrated on the head and eyes area. He shivers a lot and his cold sweats dampens our couch. So the next day, again we went to GP, and he tested my husband for Influenza.. And he was Influenza A positive. We were so sure that he got the virus from Fahim, so the doctor referred us to the hospital. At this time, my good old friend told me not to use the NSAID. And just minutes after, the news spread of acute encephalopathy associated with influenza in small kids and NSAID was everywhere! On whatssap, facebook, news, you name it! We freaked out and worried sick! Even at the hospital, (we chose another government hospital) the emergency department couldnt admit my husband and fahim, but politely gave us quarantine leave for five days and some medication for the whole quarantine time. She said at least 50 positive cases of influenza were referred there daily! Definitely an outbreak. But after 2 weeks if the symptoms still around or the condition worsens, we were to come back to the hospital. Even the supposed medicine for Influenza were reserved only for critical patients. We had to make sure Fahim and Fahmy drinks lotss of water and take PCM timely.

So, quarantine. Seems simple.

When you are in your second trimester, with a toddler and a husband with Influenza A to take care of, its farrrr from simple, ladies and gentlemen.

(At this point I am still contemplating to write on the challenges or not, seems ungrateful and as if I am the only one facing this, but as a wife and a mother, you learn every now and then, forever. So. Here are some for the memories.)

1. Your kid who lovesss medicine refuse to take medicine the time you wanted him to and I literally had to force him with a taek-wan-do white belt that I have. And pcm is 4 hourly.

2. His temperature would stay at 39 degree celcius. Come down around 37.8-9 for an hour, after an hour or 2 of pcm, than you feed him another round of pcm. Back to 1st point.

3. As temperature hardly comes down, you had to "jerlum" a loghat we learned from the emergency medical officer. And this boy refused to place a wet cloth on his head! Whats more, under his armpits or other parts of the body!

4. He refused milk. At one time I thought ok maybe "nak putus susu". I was glad too, but what I did, made him syrup drink in a 300ml bottle, and he survived on only that daily (and some liquid when we feed him medicine). When he woke up zillion times at night, he'll drink from that syrup too. No milk for few days. This worries us too, but 300ml better than nothing.

5. What is clingy again?

6. Your husband's temperature wont come down and he's not his usual self for few days was distressing.

I mean, its a different level of sabr altogether! Honestly, I didnt think I'll survive. Body ache, mentally and physically exhausted. I am definitely not one with the most patience on earth, I admit. Everyday praying for strength and an end to this episode.

Allahuakbar Allahuakbar Allahuakbar!

After a torturous yet meaningful week, Fahim and Fahmy recovered. Alhamdulillah. Thumma alhamdulillah.

This was a great kick start of our decade.

And Fahim started asking for his milk as usual.

So people, in 2020,

1. Listen to your body. Dont stress yourself too much. If you detect something unusual, no harm checking.

2. Stroke can happen to anyone, anytime. Lead a balanced life. At least it lessens the risk.

3. Drink plenty of water. Everytime. Better yet.

4. Get vaccinated. Cant stress enough on this. Flu vaccine's available. I had it during last umrah I think. Prevention is better than cure.

5. Sabar sabar and sabar.

6. Cant believe we are in Year 2020! Have a great decade! In sha Allah

2 notes · View notes

eirianerisdar · 6 years

Text

He shouldn’t be a doctor

So this morning, I had one of the worst experiences I’ve ever had in my six years of medical school, courtesy of the absolute worst doctor I’ve ever seen in my life - not knowledge-wise, or practical-wise, but the fact that this senior doctor is as of today the most horrible person I’ve ever met in medical care. Ever.

What makes it worse:

He is currently the consultant of palliative and end-of-life hospice care in one of the largest long-term care hospitals in our area.

Which means he’s in charge of patients that healthcare workers arguably need to put most care in helping: end-stage cancer patients.

But more on that later. Let’s get to how he showed how much of a jerk he was.

(As a note: I’m from Hong Kong. The public healthcare system here is almost 100% financed by the government, barring a few more-expensive things per department such as rarer targeted therapies.)

It started like this:

Twelve of us final-year medical students turned up at 11:30 on the dot for this doctor’s tutorial. He turned up, slammed his hands on the conference table, and barked at us to get around it.

There wasn’t enough space for twelve.

He didn’t care.

“I believe in humiliation therapy,” he told us. “I’m going to humiliate you in front of everyone. I’m going to get you to argue against one another until you know the stuff you’re supposed to know.”

Well, so he’s that sort of senior doctor, I thought.

Despite this, the tutorial started off okay. Until a classmate brought up the issue of financial burdens for cancer patients - how if patients came from wealthier backgrounds, they could expect to worry less about whether they could afford anything from non-subsidied medication to hiring extra carers at home. Something those with less wealth couldn’t afford.

The doctor was on him in a second. “Does that mean you think wealthier patients get better outcomes?” he sneered. “Do you think medical care is so bad here that wealthier people are happier than poorer people in the palliative ward?”

No, one of my groupmates (We’ll call her C) pointed out. We’re simply saying that despite the public medical system here being almost fully subsidised by the government, there are still a couple of rarer treatments in every department that are too expensive for the government to cover completely. Wealthy patients don’t always have that worry at the back of their minds about whether their family can pay for any extra things that slip past the well-subsidised net, while those on government welfare do have that worry.

The doctor pointed at C and told the entire group that she thought that wealthy patients got better care (which she obviously wasn’t) and how it didn’t matter if a patient was on welfare. “I saw a patient who was rich and had family who didn’t care for him at all,” he said. “and other who was poor but had family who cared. Who do you think was happier?”

Well, yes. Family matters. But pray, dear doctor, what do you mean by the other things you said?

Sure. Money doesn’t bring happiness, or a family that supports you.

But money lets you get that PET scan at diagnosis while the patient who couldn’t could only get a government-covered high resolution CT scan, so you know you have stage 4 cancer a month earlier than they do, at which point they realise that the CT didn’t pick up a minuscule cancer they had spread to a distant organ; by this point, they’ve gone through surgery, but the cancer’s grown larger elsewhere already. At this point, the patient with money’s already started their second round of chemo. The cancer’s responding nicely.

Money lets you hire that private carer so your daughter doesn’t have to change jobs to take care of you at home.

Money lets you do that plethora of rarer gene studies to see if there’s a horrendously expensive form of medication that may work for you if you were lucky enough to have one of those genes.

Money lets you go on one last lovely holiday with your family to a country you always wanted to visit, and to live comfortably at hospice in your home.

If you don’t have any of that, there you are in your 60 square foot box of an apartment with a wife who is as old and as aged as you, as she’s trying to scrounge up a few extra hong kong dollars (less than 1USD) so you can have meat instead of tofu for dinner.

You can’t afford to buy your granddaughter a peach for her birthday; the last birthday of hers you’ll see.

And here we had a consultant for end-of-life care telling us we were all ignorant idiots, and that money didn’t matter in end-of-life care.

My classmate, C, the girl who so bravely stood up to him and pointed out the illogicalities of his argument, started to cry.

She later told me she thought of something that happened to someone close to her, and couldn’t stop the tears.

The consultant looked at her and said, “Aww, now I’ve made you cry! It hurts me more than you to see you like this.”

Utter. Foul. Vermin.

The doctor told a male groupmate of mine to pretend to counsel someone. We’ll call this classmate F.

F got halfway through the sentence and started to tear up.

He usually doesn’t speak of it much, but we know that someone close to him in his family’s got a long term illness of some sort.

He fell silent, sniffing.

At this point I started crying.

Not because this doctor hurt me.

But because here were two of my friends, both deeply, personally hurt by this doctor, and I wanted to rise up and yell at him, to ask him what sort of person he thought he was to think he had to right to hurt his juniors like this, but I couldn’t say anything.

Because he’s one of the examiners for our exam this coming Wednesday.

Because he’s a consultant.

Because he wouldn’t let us speak.

Because he was still smiling as he said, “Ah, I have hope. You have more heart in you than I thought you did. This generation tends not to care as much.”

Why, I thought, as I continued to cry. We have more heart in any one of us than you. I’m crying because I empathise with my friends, who you have hurt. Every one of us in this room is seething. But we are cutting our losses and keeping our mouths shut.

“Aren’t I nice? I’m not a mean doctor,” he told us. “I know a guy who told his students that if they didn’t know this-and-this material, they weren’t worthy to be a doctor and should jump off a building. I don’t do that. And anyway, I know that guy, and he actually is very nice. He just had a bad childhood so he was used to hearing and dishing out words like that.”

No, doctor. (I won’t call you a good doctor because you shouldn’t be a doctor at all) Your friend not a “nice guy”. No person, traumatised or not, should ever tell anyone else to end their own life. Just as you, who we are supposed to look up to, should have more empathy in you than the narcissistic, self-important, heartless man you are.

He spent the next hour and a half waxing poetic about his own values, how patients loved his department so much, and (upon shutting off the fan that had been causing my crying classmate, C, to shiver for an hour and a half without him noticing) how that showed how NICE of a person he was.

I didn’t stop tearing up throughout the whole thing.

And the icing on the cake?

At the end, he looked first at C, then at F, then at me, and said, “I haven’t been mean, right? I haven’t been unkind to you two especially.”

And, as we looked into his smiling eyes, we did the only thing we could do, for our grades, our continued mental health, to avoid a battle that could harm our careers. We nodded, and said, “No. You haven’t.”

He smiled a self-satisfied smile. “Students always thank me afterwards,” he said.

Then he let us go.

C and I hugged in the lift lobby.

Let me tell you a little something extra.

I woke up at 5 am on the morning of this tutorial. My period had come. I was in unusual, excruciating pain. I spent an hour hissing in pain until I stepped up my own pain meds and fell asleep again still at a just-reduced pain scale of 5/10 (it had been 8/10).

And then I got up and went to the tutorial anyway.

And met him.

For you, the reader, I’m sorry for this lengthy rant. But if you’re a medical student, or any healthcare worker in the medical field at all, remember this man.

This man is scum.

But you know who isn’t? You. His department is still rated excellently by all the patients who pass through it at the end of their earthly lives. But it remains rated so because the nurses, the junior doctors, the clerks and the psychologists and the clergy and the other spiritual/religious workers and the medical social workers and the people in charge of cleaning the ward itself care for the patients far, far more than he does.

If there’s anything this man taught me - it is to remember that kindness is not about yourself.

It is about the other person. That’s what medicine was always about.

#med school #medical school #med student #medical student #doctor #long post #sorry for how lengthy this was I just couldn't not write something #personal #not sw #suicide tw #forgot to put that in there for that doctor's comment sorry

21 notes · View notes