#lashing out

[whumpshaped]

tw injuries, psychological whump, emotional whump, self-deprecation, lashing out, very wacky/distorted way of thinking

Whumpee came home way later than Caretaker had expected. They jumped up from the couch where they'd been curled up, ready to give their friend a big hug and ask where they'd been for so long.

"I just wanna sleep," Whumpee said before they could've done either of those things. "Please?"

Caretaker reached for the light switch. "I just wanna know–"

"Don't!" Whumpee snapped, making them freeze. "Please. Not right now. I can find my way around with my phone. Plus, the bugs will come in if you turn the lights on now."

"I... okay. Okay." Caretaker stepped back, letting their friend walk up the stairs without another word. It was strange, but they didn't smell any alcohol, or any other substance. Whumpee really just seemed tired.

The next morning, Whumpee was locked inside their room. Caretaker knocked softly, hoping to only catch Whumpee's attention if they were already awake. They heard an inquisitive 'mmm?' from inside, and they took a deep breath.

"Can we talk about last night?"

"I don't want to."

Caretaker nodded to themself. They had to be a little more stern. Just a little. "I do. And I'm worried. I'd just like to know if you're okay."

"I am."

Well... that didn't lead anywhere. "Please come out."

"Can I sleep some more first?"

Caretaker sighed. "Yeah. Of course. Please come out once you've slept enough."

It had been several hours when the door finally opened. Caretaker tried not to be pushy, but they had to at least poke their head into the hallway. Whumpee was way overdressed for the weather inside, and their hair was covering half their face. Caretaker frowned, immediately recognising it as Whumpee hiding something.

"You wanted to talk?" Whumpee asked quietly. They seemed... scared.

"Yeah. But you're not in any sort of trouble, okay?" They beckoned Whumpee over to their room and they hesitantly complied, sitting on the bed while Caretaker took the chair. "What happened?"

"I lost track of time," they said curtly. They were wringing their hands nervously, eyes darting around the room to avoid looking at Caretaker. "Sorry. And then I was really tired, like I said."

"Where did you get the bruises?"

Whumpee's eyes snapped up to them, wide and terrified. Bingo. Caretaker hadn't seen any bruises, but they just had a hunch. "Wh- what bruises?"

"The ones you're covering up now. It's hot inside, you would never wear this stuff otherwise. Is that why I couldn't turn on the lights either?" It was slowly dawning on Whumpee that Caretaker didn't actually know for sure, and they'd just given themself away with their reaction. They looked down at their lap. "Whumpee, I'm not mad. I'm concerned. Can I see?"

"I'd rather you not."

"Please."

Whumpee shifted a little, tucking their hair behind their ear with shaky hands. They had a nasty black eye. "Can we stop here?" they whispered.

Caretaker bit their lip, really wanting to push until Whumpee showed them all the injuries so they could treat them. But that wasn't what they needed right now. "If you don't have any that require immediate attention, yes."

"It's all just bruises."

Caretaker nodded. "No broken bones?"

"I don't think so."

"Okay." They leaned back in their chair, trying to figure out how to address the elephant in the room. "You get into fights a lot," they began carefully. Whumpee shrugged.

"I guess."

"You seem to like getting into fights a lot." Another shrug. "You seem to... it's like... you don't want to win them at all. You never have any chance of winning."

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"I want you to tell me why you go out there and provoke people into beating you up."

Whumpee tensed up a little, then just shrugged again. "That's a stupid accusation. I don't do that. I just get into fights because I have opinions, that's it."

"You know that's not true. You start fights and then let them use you as a punching bag. That's what you do. And I don't understand why."

"I don't either!" they snapped. "Okay? Is that what you wanted? I don't know! It's weird, it's pathetic, it's disgusting, it's stupid! Is that what you want me to say? I know all that! And I don't know why I keep doing it!"

"Calm down. I'm just–"

"It hurts!" They pushed up the sleeves of their sweater, revealing bruises left by people yanking them around a little too forcefully. "It hurts, it's not fun, I– I never know how to stop it. Part of me doesn't want it to stop. So I just don't say anything. I just let them do it until it hurts too much and I cry like a stupid baby. And then they laugh and leave me alone– or they get angrier and go even harder. 'Stop starting fights you can't finish!' I wish I could! Okay? I wish I could keep my mouth shut."

Caretaker stood up from their chair and walked over to the bed, sitting down next to their friend. They pulled them into a gentle embrace, allowing them to cry openly. "Why do you punish yourself so much?" they murmured. Whumpee shrugged again.

"I... I'm so scared. I'm so scared of being bad. I don't want to be bad." They took a shuddering breath, chuckling a little. It quickly turned into more sobbing. "I feel like... so long as I'm the victim... but, but only while I'm the victim, and a good victim, a quiet one... I can't be the bad one."

~

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpkinpie @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw

#whump #whump drabble #injuries #psychological whump #emotional whump #self-deprecation #lashing out #very wacky/distorted way of thinking

[feverdreamsanddelusions]

21

inspo by @whumpitlikeyoumeanit

[tw self-harm, self-deprecation, past trauma, implied past captivity, lashing out, anger as a trauma response, rocky recovery, argument between friends]

"This is so stupid," Whumpee muttered. "So fucking stupid. What the fuck is going on with this?"

"Whumpee, it's normal." Caretaker tried to take them by the hands to stop them from picking at their scars, but Whumpee flinched away before they could have. "Hey, it's okay. It's alright."

"It's not! It's so fucking itchy! Like– twice a year it'll get fucking itchy like it's brand new, for, for no reason! It's so annoying!" Whumpee kept scratching it until it hurt, feeling ridiculous that this small thing was making them lash out like that. "It's healed, it's fully healed! And not only is it ugly, it's itchy."

"You're going to make yourself bleed–"

"And? What's it to you? It's my body, isn't it? That's what you always say. Whumper never said that shit. They were upfront, they said 'your body is mine to perfect and mine to ruin.'" They made Whumper sound as stupid as possible just so they wouldn't have to deal with the tears. "But you're different, right? You're telling me my body is actually mine. I can perfect it and ruin it myself, right?"

"Whumpee..."

"No, no! Don't give me that! I can do whatever the fuck I want! I can most definitely scratch a stupid itch!"

Caretaker sighed and sat back, watching with a frown as Whumpee continued to rub their skin raw. It was a matter of principle at this point, and Whumpee was prepared to push it to the limits.

"I can do whatever I want," they repeated, quieter. "My ankle was flaring up earlier too. If I had enough one day and decided to chop it off–"

"Don't say that," Caretaker cut in, increasingly more nervous.

"Oh, now I can't even say shit. I can't do anything, I can't say anything. So much for autonomy. So much for–"

"Whumpee, don't... you're being ridiculous."

"Sure," they spat. "I'm being ridiculous."

"I don't mean that in a– look, I just... I want you to take a deep breath, okay? And just calm down a little. Clearly, you're not having a good day–"

"Yeah, I'm completely unfit to make decisions for myself. Because it's a bad day, and I'm fucking stupid."

Caretaker slammed their hand down on the table in frustration, and Whumpee finally stopped messing with their scars. Their eyes snapped up to their friend, fearful and shocked. They shouldn't have been shocked. They'd wanted to instigate, and now here was the fruit of their labour.

"Stop putting words in my mouth," Caretaker said as calmly as possible. "Yeah?" Whumpee nodded a little, still stiff as a board. "I'm sorry for banging on the table."

A small part of Whumpee wanted to go further. They wanted to make another comparison between their friend and Whumper, they wanted to push it, they wanted to see just how angry Caretaker would get. A much bigger part of them wanted to slip onto their knees and grovel.

They ended up doing neither of those. They stayed seated, unable to do anything but make a nervous attempt at wiping away their tears and shaking their head to signal it wasn't a big deal.

"Fuck, Whumpee..." Caretaker stood up and circled around the table, and Whumpee tried to push them away on instinct. "Whumpee... Hey. I'm sorry." They knelt down and finally took Whumpee by the hands, wincing when their eyes landed on the patch of raw skin. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so upset with you. You're safe, I promise. I would never hurt you."

"I don't actually want to chop my leg off," they choked out. They had no idea why that was the first thing they wanted to address out of everything, but it felt like the most urgent matter at hand. Caretaker nodded.

"That's good news."

"I'm not fucking dumb."

"I know you're not. I know."

"You keep treating me like I– I can't even joke about it, or get angry, or– I... I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't... it's... I shouldn't get angry with you. I shouldn't be saying these things."

Caretaker squeezed their hands a little. "I can't really... deny that sometimes it gets scary when you joke about it. Especially when it doesn't sound like a joke, or when you're... already upset and in a bad headspace."

"But I wouldn't do it!" they snapped, then immediately shrank back and murmured an apology.

"I can't read your mind. I just can't. And I know you're more than capable of hurting yourself." They sighed. "Listen... Bodily autonomy, and, and your right to– to hurt yourself if you want to... I... I don't know how to explain..."

"I'll never actually have autonomy."

"Please don't do this. Please don't ask this of me. To– to prove that I mean it by letting you hurt yourself. That's fucked up. Surely, you realise that's fucked up."

Whumpee didn't say a word. Of course they knew. But they felt like a dumb kid, trying to find out where the limits of their freedom were by constantly pushing back against their parents' rules.

"I want you to be safe. Ultimately, I can't stop you from... from doing anything, really. I can't stop you from hurting yourself, not if you really want to. But– but it's not about stripping you of your bodily autonomy. It's about... me, as your friend, wanting you to be safe and healthy. That's all. And it sucks so fucking much that you treat it like I'm– like I'm forcing horrible stuff on you, when I've never done that."

"I know," Whumpee whispered. "I'm sorry."

"It's not about apologies, okay? I know you're in a very tough spot. I know it's difficult. I just want to... I'm trying to explain my reasoning. I want you to understand where I'm coming from, since..."

"Since I'm so fucked in the head."

"Please, stop putting words in my mouth. Whumpee, I'd never think any of these things about you. Please, stop."

Whumpee wanted to curl up and die. They couldn't shut up about it. They couldn't stop putting words in everyone's mouths. All their brain did day after day was supply them with endless amounts of negativity their friends must've been thinking, even if logically, they knew it probably wasn't true. "I'm sorry," they repeated.

Caretaker let go of their hands and placed their own on Whumpee's knees instead. "I want nothing but for you to be happy and healthy. That's all I ever want. And this might sound rude as hell, but when you ask me to let you chop your leg off, it feels like you're a kid asking to eat two tonnes of candy and stay up for three nights in a row. I can't in good conscience agree to that. I know it's a bad idea."

Was that how people perceived them? Like a child, throwing a temper tantrum? They could feel themself checking out entirely, their mind refusing to grapple with all the things that had been said. I told you I didn't actually want to chop my leg off. "Okay."

"Okay?" Caretaker gave them a look of cautious and reluctant hope. "You understand where I'm coming from?"

"Yeah."

"Are you just agreeing because you're overwhelmed?" Whumpee hesitated, and it was enough to make Caretaker's hope shatter. "Well..."

"No! No, that's not... You didn't even let me answer!"

"I guess I didn't. Sorry. I just... I know when you're about to lie about stuff like this." They sighed and stood up. "Whumpee, I love you more than anyone in this world, okay? I hate to make you feel overwhelmed. Or like you have to agree with me. Why don't I get some cotton pads to clean that wound, and then we'll take a break from this conversation?"

The argumentative brat in them wanted to say no just for the sake of it. But they felt so exhausted all of a sudden, they just couldn't. They ended up nodding their agreement wordlessly, and then they sat in silence the whole time Caretaker was tending to them, letting their mind drift.

This was all so stupid. As they looked down at their many scars, they wondered whether they could even chop off a limb on their own. Had they been joking when they said it? Or were they actually considering it?

It didn't matter. As angry as Whumpee had been about restrictions just a couple minutes ago, they were quickly realising they at least made these thoughts kind of meaningless. It didn't matter whether they had it in them, because Caretaker said they weren't allowed do to it anyway.

"All done," Caretaker said all too soon. "Do you want me to leave you alone for a bit? Or do you want me to sit with you?"

"Sit with me," Whumpee said without thinking. The request sparked that sliver of hope in their friend's eyes again as they nodded and walked back to their own chair.

"No talking?" Whumpee shook their head. "Alright. No talking."

#whump #whump drabble #self-harm #self-deprecation #past trauma #implied past captivity #lashing out #anger as a trauma response #rocky recovery #recovery fic #res writes

[momentsbeforemass]

After God’s own heart

David is called “a man after God’s own heart” but what does that even mean?

With all of David’s baggage (trying to cover up adultery with murder, etc.), being perfect or never sinning? That can’t be what it means.

Today’s first reading shows us one of worst moments in David’s life.

One of David’s sons turned the people against him and is coming with an army to attack Jerusalem. Outnumbered, David and his soldiers flee for their lives.

The Bible tells us that as David fled, “he wept without ceasing. His head was covered, and he was walking barefoot.” What’s the point of this detail?

To show us that David is heartbroken at his son’s betrayal. This is how people mourned back in the day. David is grieving a loss, and anyone looking at him knows it.

Which means that what happens next is intentional and personal.

One of the cousins of Saul (the king that David replaced) sees them and starts cursing David and throwing stones at him.

He can tell that David is grieving – so he goes after David when he’s down.

What he says shows that he knows exactly why David is mourning. He’s trying to hurt David as much as he can.

In response, Abishai (one of David’s soldiers) belittles Saul’s cousin – then offers to kill him.

How David responds is a master class in dealing with those who are trying to hurt us.

You and I are so vulnerable – to anger and to depression – when someone goes after us when we’re down.

Here David not only has his own vulnerability, but someone encouraging him to be angry and also offering to defend him.

It’s everything David’s ego wants (and if we’re honest, it’s what our egos want) in a moment like that. Validation. Active (and violent) support. A revenge fantasy made real.

It would be so easy. All David has to do is say the word.

But instead of reacting – by lashing out in anger or by letting the curses crush him while he’s down – David refuses to be drawn in. And says to Abishai,

“What business is it of mine or of yours that he curses?”

David doesn’t lash out in anger. David doesn’t let the curses crush him. David doesn’t acknowledge the truth of what was said (and it’s all true).

David refuses to be drawn in.

And instead, David just lets the curses sit there. As if Saul’s cousin was shouting about a tree that he liked or what he had for lunch.

Wait. You can do that?

I know I can’t. At least not on my own.

Which is why the things that David says next are absolutely critical.

“Suppose the Lord has told him to curse me?”

“If my own son is trying to kill me, how much more might this cousin of Saul’s do so?”

There are two critical perspectives in what David is saying.

First, David looks at this through the eyes of the man who is cursing him.

David sees why he would do it. It makes perfect sense. Being cursed by someone like him is just as natural as June following after May.

And just as much of a non-event.

Second, David is not about to let this get between him and God. So David brings it to God.

God is the source of David’s peace and the source of David’s strength. Like Job, David understands everything that happens as being from God – the good, the bad, all of it. And this? It’s just something that happened.

Which means that there is no reason to get upset about it.

David decides to see it for what it is – a non-event. Then places it in the pile with everything else that happens. And turns his attention back to God.

Because David knows that with God everything works out – even if he doesn’t understand how in the moment.

This is what it means to be “after God’s own heart.”

Today’s Readings

#Reacting #Lashing Out #Anger #Depression #Drawn in #God #Jesus #Catholic #Christian #Church #Getting between you and God #David #Moments Before Mass

[howifeltabouthim]

All thoughts of revenge are born of the pain of helplessness. I suffer becomes You will suffer.

Siri Hustvedt, from The Blazing World

#revenge #vengeance #helplessness #lashing out #suffering #make them pay #quotes #lit #words #excerpts #quote #literature #siri hustvedt #the blazing world

[iwritewhump]

lashing out

day 8 of @whumptember

618 words

warnings: teenage whumpee, implied abuse, conditioned response, cursing

part one | part two | part three | part five | part six

---

Villain finally takes down Hero’s ‘we left, he’s with me now <3’ note off of the fridge and lays it on the counter, not quite ready to completely forget about what had happened only a month ago. He smiles softly and dials Hero’s number. 

Her voicemail runs and he nods along until the beep, “Hey, Hero! I’m just checking in on you and Vigilante. I know you’re keeping him safe and I don’t have anything to worry about, but I just want to talk with him if he wants to. Anyway…just get back to me, thanks!” 

He sets the phone on his table and swings the refrigerator door open and bends down to find something to eat. With a small, contented chuckle he grabs pizza from the shelf and takes a bite. 

Villain’s phone rings, Hero’s number is on the display. He smiles, sets the pizza down on a napkin and answers, “Hey! Glad you were able to-” 

“Villain?” someone whispers. 

After a moment, Villain recognizes the voice. Under the hoarseness and fear, it was Vigilante. “Vigilante? Are you alright? Where’s Hero?” 

Rustling comes from his end and Villain can tell he’s running. “I need you to come get me. I’m running to the lot behind the forest next to Hero’s base. Please.” 

“Y-yeah,” Villain stutters. “I’ll…I’m leaving right now. Hang tight.” 

Instead of an answer, the phone falls to the ground and Villain can hear as it crashes against something hard and breaks. Without wasting a second, Villain grabs his keys and jacket, pulling his jacket on as he runs down the stairs of his apartment building. 

He ignores the shouts from neighbors, and mutters apologies to the others in the hallway that he barrels past. The elevator goes too slow, so he gets off after two stories and flies down the barely used stairwell and makes it to his car in record time. 

The lot by Hero’s base has never been a welcoming place, and the sun going down and the new moon shining no light definitely didn’t help. Vigilante sits against a tree trunk with his knees drawn tightly to his chest, vigilantly searching for anything coming for him. 

By some miracle, he sees Villain’s car before he hears it, grateful that he took the time to take note of the keys in Villain’s coin dish by the front door. 

He almost laughs and stands up, stumbling to the middle of the lot where Villain parks the car. Villain steps out of the car and Vigilante collapses in his arms. 

“Thank you for coming,” he sobs. Villain cups the back of his head with a hand and uses the other to open the passenger door and guide him in. 

After buckling Vigilante, Villain pulls away and studies him in the low light. 

Bruises litter every inch of skin Villain can see. He has barely scabbed over cuts and scrapes. Swollen lip, black eye and a cut on his cheek where blood still trickles out. Villain reaches his hand out, pulling his jacket sleeve over his hand to wipe it away and Vigilante flinches back so aggressively that he hits his head on the headrest. 

“Oh my god,” he whispers. “What happened to you?” 

Vigilante stares up at him, eyes glazed over, and shakes his head. He pulls the door shut and hugs his knees to his chest. 

The ride back to Villain’s apartment is deathly quiet, Villain glances over at Vigilante every few seconds and every time he’s staring blankly forward. 

“Vigilante…”

“No.” he snaps. “No. You don’t get to ask.” pulling his knees closer to himself, he shakes his head. “It’s all your fault, you should’ve known. So you don’t get to fucking ask.” 

#whumptember #whumptember2023 #whumptember day 8 #lashing out #villain caretaker #vigilante whumpee #teenage whumpee #hero whumper #whump #whump fic #whumpee #caretaker #whump writing #my writing

[imagine-loki]

imagine Loki lashing out at you after a difficult, high-risk mission the both of you had gone on.

—

“You knew this would happen!” Loki roars, eyes ablaze.

Your eyes widened in shock, “What?! Of course not, Loki! Why would I put both of us in more danger than necessary?!”

Loki’s eyes narrow, “You just want me to die, don’t you?”

“What on earth are you talking about! No! What brought that on?!” You are utterly horrified at his words. You had truly never thought such things about him.

“You’re lying…Everyone wants me gone.” Loki’s says softly, and turns away.

“Loki!” You quickly dash in front of him and look into his eyes, “I don’t want you gone… I like being with you, Loki.”

#Loki #Lover #Angst #Imagine #hijauindah #lashing out #difficult #high risk mission

[sasuga-whump]

Glory Jane (2011) - episode 3

Edit: full Whump list here

#whump #whump gifs #fear #trembling #shaking #seizing #refusing help #lashing out #berated #korean whump #korean drama #kwhump #face grabbed #manhandling #heavy breathing #asian whump #whump blog #whump community

[whumblr]

Hurt begets hurt

"Leave me alone. I hate you for what you did!"

They saw the hurt on Caretaker's face, the disbelief and pain flashing over their expression, something shattering as Whumpee almost spat the word 'hate'.

Somewhere deep inside Whumpee, something stirred, responding to the clear hurt they caused. But it came from somewhere deep within, something that slipped between the bars of a cage that they’d locked away far, far behind it.

And their overwhelming feeling was a bitter satisfaction that almost made them smile. 'Good. Hurt. Hurt like I did.'

"Whumpee, please I--"

"I don't want you here." Repressed rage burned everything around them.

Another wince from Caretaker who was now on the brink of tears. "Please..."

"Get out," they said, trembling under the emotions they held back.

"Whumpee--"

"Get out!" They made their voice as hard and cold as possible. Watched as their partner stepped back, hesitantly and still searching their face for a hint of sympathy. But as they saw there was none, everything clouded by seething rage and hurt in return, they turned away. Their shoulders shook, their figure hunched by grief, but they didn't look back.

And while Whumpee was glad to see them leave, they didn’t understand why a single tear slipped down their cheek.

-

@firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @myst-in-the-mirror @whumpawink @painsandconfusion @villainsvictim

#whump #caretaker #angst #emotional whump #whump drabble #traumatized whumpee #lashing out #repressed emotions #whumplr #my writing #I had a dream about this and it fucked me up

[whumpshaped]

hallo! dunno if you're currently taking suggestions/asks, but-

current thing going through my mind right now: a scenario where Whumper is gentle (in that manipulative way) whenever Whumpee wakes up from a nightmare. Which means later, after the rescue and Whumpee is with Caregiver, Whumpee refuses comfort after bad dreams because it always reminds them of Whumper

(if that makes sense)

content: rocky recovery, past trauma, nightmares, lashing out, anger as a trauma response

"Whumpee? Wake up, it's just a nightmare, you're okay... Whumpee?"

Whumpee awoke with a start, almost punching their saviour in the face. It was odd, to be granted such free movement. Whumper never allowed that, for that same reason.

"Get away from me!" they shrieked, still in a half-asleep, yet adrenaline-fuelled frenzy. "Get the fuck away from me! Get away!"

"Hey, hey, Whumpee, calm down," Caretaker said gently, putting their hands up to show peaceful intent.

"Get away!" they screamed anyway. "Get away, get away, get away!"

Caretaker got off the bed and backed up, still calm as ever. "Whumpee, it's okay. It's just me. No one will hurt you."

"Shut up!" Whumpee curled up, not even bothering to wipe the tears away; more would come within a second. "Shut up, get out, get away from me... Please, leave me alone... Get out..."

They could hear Caretaker's heavy sigh as they finally relented. "Alright. I'll be right outside, if you need anything—"

"I don't! Go back to your room, go away!"

"Alright! Alright. I'm leaving. I'm sorry."

There was some awkward shuffling in the dark, then the sound of the door opening and closing. Whumpee could finally sob in peace, knowing they would not go back to sleep tonight.

~

this is one of my last drabbles here, please feel free to follow me on my new blog @sowhumpshaped

#asks #whump #whump drabble #rocky recovery #past trauma #nightmares #lashing out #anger as a trauma response

[momentsbeforemass]

The saddest Gospel

In today’s Gospel, the Pharisees are trying to set Jesus up. Again.

Jesus’ response to them? It’s a question, “Is it lawful to do good on the sabbath rather than to do evil, to save a life rather than to destroy it?”

You and I don’t have to know what the Pharisees believe to know the answer. We don’t even have to know anything about God to get this one right.

The Pharisees’ actual beliefs? “All cases of saving a life supersede Shabbat, and he who hurries in these matters is praised.”

Great! Just what we would hope for. No horrible, cruel version of God. No toxic nonsense.

We’re all on the same page here – you, me, Jesus. And even the Pharisees.

Which is what makes their response to Jesus so jaw-dropping.

Instead of owning their beliefs? Instead of admitting that they have some common ground with Jesus?

They say nothing. And start plotting to kill Him.

How does that happen? Hatred. It’s all about hatred.

For the Pharisees, their hatred for Jesus is so great that they would betray their faith before they would ever admit to having anything in common with Him.

Which means that their hatred has pushed God off the throne.

Oh sure, they still use the language of their (now former) faith to talk about their new god.

But what they’re really worshipping is one of the most toxic false gods there ever was. They’re worshipping their own hatred.

It’s one of the saddest scenes in the Gospels.

And it kicks off a series of events that will end with people who truly believe they’re God’s favorites screaming at the top of their lungs for death of God’s Son.

The Pharisees may be gone, but the worship of hatred is alive and well. And not just in the obvious places.

If you’ve ever seen “Catholic” or “Christian” social media (especially clergy) spewing hateful garbage about people they disagree with.

If someone you see in Church has a habit of treating people like things, especially people who sin differently from them.

Then you’ve seen this in action.

Something has crawled onto their throne. They’ve let it get into the place in their heart that’s meant for God alone.

Whether they mean to or not, they let hatred become their god.

Something to think about the next time you and I catch ourselves lashing out – in person or online – at someone or something we don’t agree with.

Today’s Readings

#Hatred #Toxic #God #Jesus #Catholic #Christian #Church #False Gods #Worship #Heart #Lashing Out #Pharisees #Moments Before Mass

[howifeltabouthim]

. . . people will say the most heinous things when they're trying to justify their own failures and madness.

Catherine Lacey, from Biography of X

#lashing out #justifications #excuses #on the attack #failure #madness #quotes #lit #words #excerpts #quote #literature #relatable #catherine lacey #biography of x

[whumpetywhump]

Are You Human, Too? - Ep. 15

#are you human too #kdrama #dizziness #stumbling #concern #refusing help #lashing out #support #hiding an illness #exhaustion #seo kang joon #gong seung yeon #whump #kwhump #asian whump

[mymidwestheart]

#defensive #protective #lashing out

[razreads]

We have the capacity to be cruel, if we let the pain consume us.

Juleah del Rosario, Turtle Under Ice

#razreads #juleah del rosario #turtle under ice #book quote #cruelty #pain #lashing out #strength #queue have a good day now