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shihalyfie · 3 years

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“Dependable senior” Kido Jou

Continuing my thread of analyzing the Adventure characters in detail, today we’ll be talking about Jou, Adventure’s most famous disaster character whom most of us have probably started feeling may actually be the most relatable character in this cast. It’s hard not to love him, honestly, given how earnestly he works so hard at everything and yet has an unfortunate tendency to dig himself into a hole.

Let’s just cut to the chase and talk about Jou!

Jou’s family background

Adventure is of course known for its overall focus on family backgrounds, but Jou’s is fairly different from the others’ for a lot of different reasons. We never meet Jou’s parents in the series itself, only in a drama CD, but we do meet his brother, Kido Shin -- and in fact, Jou’s the only Adventure kid to have siblings outside of the group (two, in fact, although we don’t meet Shuu until 02).

Jou’s family is what’s often called an “elite” family -- one that pushes for its kids and family members to have a certain degree of “high status” through their career. Even those in non-Asian countries will probably recognize that academic achievement measurement pressure is endemic to the culture in general -- especially since Japan has standard entrance exams go all the way down to high school level -- but it is especially prominent in the case of the Kido family, and Jou’s father has been pushing all three of his sons to become doctors, largely because he wants one of them to inherit his clinic. (While it’s not as extreme as Sora’s problem with iemoto position inheritance, Jou’s position of being in inheritance pressure is not entirely dissimilar.) It also means that just being any kind of doctor isn’t enough for him -- it’s got to be one of the “dignified and prominent” kinds of doctors (heavily implied to involve surgery, given the mention of blood).

In addition, while it’s not strictly said within the series itself, it’s implied that Jou is feeling a lot of pressure in terms of being the youngest of three sons, when the older two have a huge age gap with him. Jou is only in elementary school, while his second oldest brother is in high school and his oldest brother already a medical student! (By the time Adventure is over, both brothers are in national university, which is a really tough achievement.) Within his family, Jou really is The Baby compared to two high-achieving brothers who are already “well on their way to great things”.

In order to be on the path of becoming a doctor, Jou starts off the series, only in elementary school, in the “prep school track” -- or, what’s basically a constant cycle of getting into a good school so that he can get into another good school so that he can get into another good school (et cetera). Again, Japanese schools have entrance exams as early as high school, so this is something he’ll be setting on very early. I also cannot emphasize enough that for anyone who has to go through this process, it is absolute hell. I have never met anyone who actually enjoys doing this; it’s a means to an end. It’s very hard to have your heart into this unless you want the final goal that badly -- vague promises of status alone don’t do it -- and even those who do want it often end up demotivated and going through the motions with their will broken partway into it.

And, unfortunately for Jou, he’d already had a good reason to not want to do this from day one.

Jou has severe blood phobia. (Formally called “hemophobia”, although I tend to avoid that term given that it’s one letter off from something else.) Shin even makes it clear in this scene from Adventure episode 38 that any doubts about Jou’s ability to become a doctor don’t have anything to do with his personality or abilities, but the fact is that this is, indeed, a very serious and concrete problem for someone who intends to become a doctor (or at least, again, the kind of doctor that his father wants him to be). It’s possible that Jou outright fainting at the sight of blood might be a bit of an exaggeration, but it’s definitely enough of a deterrent that he’s not feeling this whole thing at all, and convincing him to actually care about becoming a doctor is going to require a huge uphill battle. By default, the answer was already a huge, capital NO in giant letters before anything ever began. And yet, Jou continued to force himself to go through the motions.

It should also be made clear that while Jou’s father was pressuring him to become a doctor, he was also not trying to force Jou to become one. The drama CD where he appears had him actually outwardly encourage Jou to do whatever he wanted instead of forcing himself -- but it was also extremely clear that he was still personally very unhappy and dissatisfied with the idea of all three brothers not taking over his clinic. As much as the Kido brothers do seem to be concerned about their father’s disapproval, it’s less so out of fear of retribution and more that they just really worry about disappointing him. Hence, this is why Jou continues to follow the path even when he’s not really feeling it, and it’s important to understanding Jou as a character for the rest of this post: Jou has no personal interest in status or honor, but is motivated by his sense of duty towards other people.

Even so, “because my father really wants me to” isn’t exactly very motivating in itself, and, all in all, Jou starts off Adventure very jaded about his future prospects, and rather demotivated and uninterested in them. But come the events of Adventure, Jou, the aforementioned “baby of the family”, gets recasted as the oldest in the group -- which becomes a huge factor in how he ends up changing his view of himself and his personal goals.

Jou in Adventure

Jou starts off the series assigned as Mimi’s camp group leader, but even Mimi senses an aura from him that he doesn’t seem very “reliable”. In this case, the word “reliable” doesn’t refer to his Crest name (which did get a dub name of “Reliability”) but rather various words that effectively mean “able to be counted on”. Which, at this early point of the story, Jou is decidedly not. Once the adventure gets off the ground, Jou easily succumbs to stress, and especially the stress and burden placed on him from being the oldest in the group.

If you’re wondering if that one-year difference between Jou and Taichi/Yamato/Sora really is that big of a deal, culturally speaking: yes, it is (especially when everyone’s at this young age), and Jou isn’t just being stickler about it. You can actually see an example of how this comes into play once they return to regular society in Adventure episode 29, when the kids are allowed to go to Hikarigaoka purely because “a sixth-grader” (Jou) is with them. This is the kind of responsibility that society normally imposes on him, and this is what he carries even into another world.

In fact, Jou’s aware even from the get-go that he’s not exactly cut out for that kind of role. From the Adventure novels:

Jou thought about it. He, too, felt sorry for the younger boy… but it would be over for his leadership if he went back on what he’d already decided. Give them an opening and they’ll soon be walking all over him. He just couldn’t have that. Jou was all too aware of his own often indecisive personality. ... When they heard what had transpired between her and Jou, Yamato and the others glared coldly in Jou’s direction. What was this, a dictatorship?

As a result, he initially rubs everyone the wrong way because, in their view, he’s trying to impose his will on everyone like some control freak, but as it turns out, being a control freak is actually part of Jou’s stress response.

Said control freakishness manifests in Jou constantly spending the early part of the series by leaning back on “the rules of society” -- including the early series running gag of him insisting that there must be “adults” there, when this is clearly not the case to everyone else present -- because, for someone like him who easily gives into stress and anxiety and has a nasty tendency to become incredibly irrational, leaning on those “rules” is some degree of comfort to him. Now that he’s been dragged into another world, he’s desperately clawing at anything that can bring his sense of “reality” back -- hence why he keeps relying on the concept of “adults”, because the truth is that he himself isn’t actually that capable of handling the situation on his own, and he’s trying to convince himself that there’s Some More Reliable Thing Out There that they can fall back on.

The infamous “egg scene” in Adventure episode 7 is certainly comedic when Jou overreacts to everyone harmlessly listing off things they like on their eggs, but things quickly take a turn for the dramatic when Jou practically has a mental breakdown over it. In the end, Jou so easily succumbs to anxiety that even little things like “being a little out of order” stress him out to no end. The world is easy to understand and explain when everything is in the right place, and chaos has a tendency to completely disorient him.

But on the other hand, it’s also in Adventure episode 7 where we learn that Jou’s control freak behavior isn’t because he actually cares about any kind of status or honor for being the oldest, but because he truly, truly feels responsible for everyone’s welfare.

“Because I’m the oldest” is a statement that Jou means in the context of him having a duty to protect everyone -- beyond everything, the one thing that does make Jou passionate is how much he truly, truly cares about other people’s welfare, to the point he impulsively throws himself onto the Black Gear-controlled Unimon and tries to yank the gear out with his bare hands. In fact, said episode demonstrates that Jou can be recklessly self-sacrificial when he wants to be, because his failed attempts at dispute resolution lead him to conclude that he should be the one to take one for the team. For all it’s worth, Jou has the right idea when it comes to trying to take leadership, because he’s very much doing this for the welfare of others more than he ever cares about himself or the glory of the position -- it’s just that, being rather reckless, rather paranoid, and not very good at actually thinking straight, his way of going about it doesn’t tend to always land right.

But it’s undeniable that he cares, and he’s trying, and this leads to a shift in how the rest of the team comes to perceive him for the rest of the series now that they understand that his intentions really are for their sake, not because he’s trying to be a jerk about it.

And that comes out to be the one most prominent trait about Jou for the rest of the series, especially in Adventure episodes 23 and 36 -- as much as an unpredictable loose cannon as he can be, he’s so loyal to his friends and determined to protect them that he would even recklessly throw himself into the line of fire for them. That’s the basis of his Crest, which is something that’s been translated half a dozen different ways, but all boil down to the same principle: he has a strong sense of duty and responsibility to other people, and will always make do on his promises to others or his desire to provide for them.

After a few of their initial bad starts, the Adventure kids never treat him badly -- in fact, both Sora and Mimi respectfully call him “Jou-senpai” as if to acknowledge his position over them in school, something that’s stuck very well with the actual fanbase (more on this later). Of course, everyone tends to get exasperated at him or worry about whether he’ll actually pull through on anything he attempts, but the majority of the humor revolving around Jou in Adventure has very little to do with anyone insulting or tormenting him, and more that he tends to be so dramatic and high-strung that he kind of digs himself into a hole. (Like how he tries to angrily chastise everyone for spending their money on food in Adventure episode 30, only for the revelation that he’s starving himself to kick in and for him to sink into the exact opposite extreme.) Ultimately, everyone comes to understand that Jou’s working really hard for their sake, so they cut him a bit of slack.

In fact, while Taichi initially complains about Jou sitting out of their trip to Shibaura to find the eighth child for the sake of entrance exam studies in Adventure episode 32, the kids strike a compromise by dumping all of their phone call work on him. Of course, this is a bit of “revenge” for him not accompanying them, but it is effectively the other kids respecting his right to sit out and not have to completely give up on his real life obligations even in the middle of the eighth child search, by allowing him to participate in the search in a way that’s more convenient for him.

But despite diligently sticking to the motions, Jou doesn’t actually emotionally care about all of this. We even get a hint of this in Adventure episode 35 -- Jou gets what he calls “the worst grade in his life,” presumably due to all of the stress he’d been going through lately, having just gotten back from the Digital World and all. He also bounces back incredibly quickly, saying that he’ll have to call and inform his parents he’ll be back late.

In the end, Jou doesn’t really care about his grades or performance when it comes to cram school, even despite insisting on sticking to it, because he’s just not feeling it. He doesn’t even want to be a doctor all that much; he has no true motivation and no reason to care. (The only time Jou is ever portrayed as actually liking doing any kind of studying at all rather than doing it as obligation is when everyone’s listing off what they miss doing in Adventure episode 6, but it’s in a context where everyone’s talking about missing home, so it’s more of him missing his daily routine and what’s “familiar” to him than anything else.) He went through the motions, and was slightly disappointed about the grade, but the “ultimate goal” of becoming a doctor had no personal meaning to him, and so he shrugs it all off.

Jumping in physical danger to save someone’s life? That’s a no-brainer -- Jou would easily throw himself into the line of fire to do so, because he’s so passionate about protecting other people and taking responsibility for them that he’ll gladly sacrifice himself for anyone else in a heartbeat. But this whole thing about becoming a doctor and his future career is such a vague thing that he doesn’t even want that it’s arguably more of his “required daily routine” than it’s actually something he cares about all that much.

And so, we finally meet Kido Shin, in Adventure episode 38 -- he’s the oldest of the Kido brothers, already a medical student, and, ostensibly, the one closest to their father’s goal of having doctor sons. Yet his first appearance indicates that even he doesn’t have it all together, either -- he sleeps in the closet (Jou didn’t even know about this!), and somehow just slept through all of his surroundings being kidnapped. So even one of Jou’s apparent models is a bit of a disaster himself -- and, more importantly, Shin leaves some advice with Jou that sticks with him for the rest of the series.

Shin does not intend to be a doctor in the way their father wants him to be (remember, he specifically wants them to take over his clinic). This is Jou’s first time hearing about this, which is important because it means it’s the first time Jou is having such a major shakeup to his likely perception of Shin as a “prior example” -- and Shin knows this, because he promptly uses himself as an example of why Jou should also be free to choose his own path. Jou being the Kido family’s “baby” especially comes out in the novel, because Shin implies that he thinks Shuu would feel independent enough to not need any advice about this, whereas Jou definitely needs it.

We don’t get follow-up on this until after they return to the Digital World, and Mimi witnessing a handful of deaths and eventually Taichi and Yamato falling out brings her to her emotional limit; Jou decides to take responsibility for her, and while part of it is presumably because he’s had charge of her as her camp group leader since the beginning, it’s also clear that the recent events in the Digital World are weighing on him in their own way, as are Shin’s words about finding his own path.

What he wanted to tell her was this: that he didn’t see any likelihood of co-existing with the Dark Masters, and that they had no other choice but to fight them. Even a neutral country like Switzerland had a military. They would be invaded by enemy countries without one. It would be nice and ideal if they used the nonviolent resistance approach as Ghandi did. But that didn’t mean it was okay to just be killed without lifting a finger… But not even he could find a good answer.

QUESTION: Under what circumstances is it okay to battle?

That sort of question would never appear on a school test, and he’d never once thought about it before…

But on their way, Jou and Mimi encounter Ogremon and Leomon, and for the first time, Jou’s peripheral knowledge of medicine from his father starts having a practical use -- up until then, “becoming a doctor” had only been something that he’d been following for a vague sense of status that he didn’t even want, but here, Jou starts to see the connection between that goal and what it would mean for what he wants: to be able to help people right in front of him. Shortly after, when Leomon’s death turns out to involve injuries beyond that a sixth-grader can take care of with his limited supplies (”toilet paper won’t fix this!”), Jou is suddenly hit with a certain sense of reality: if Jou wants to truly help others, there is much more of a skillset he’s going to need to gather in order to do so.

So by the time of Adventure episode 50, Shin’s words now weigh so much on Jou that he’s even dreaming about them, and he finally internalizes those words of “everyone taking their own path”. In short, this is Jou acknowledging that fighting isn’t the only way to meaningfully contribute -- after all, Mimi has a severe aversion to fighting or seeing more casualties and thus can better meaningfully contribute by gathering allies to work together, while Taichi and Koushirou are directly in the front lines.

Jou, ostensibly, decides to go off and find Yamato, but there’s another layer under this: Jou admits that he’s not very strong, so much to the point that he doesn’t think Gomamon will reach Ultimate, and feels like there should be “something only he can do”. The full answer to what Jou started touching on here, and what he ends up doing thereafter, is stated in explicit words in Two-and-a-Half Year Break:

When we were in the Digital World last summer, many of the Digimon got injured and died. I couldn’t do anything for them, even though I was a doctor’s son. I don’t want to ever feel useless again! Not when someone is hurt in front of me. The Digital World doesn’t have a doctor. They need someone who’ll be able to heal them. Even now, I carry around a simple first-aid kit just in case the Gate opens again. Because of it, my bag is always crammed. And my arms are becoming muscular. [laughs] Really! By the way, I have a problem. Of course, I’ll be doing regular doctor studies, but I’ll be treating Digimon, you know? Don’t you think I’ll need to study veterinary medicine too in order to heal them?

And thus, Jou finds the all-important link that actually motivates him to want to become a doctor -- the one thing that had always been a constant about Kido Jou was that he could not leave people behind when they needed help right in front of him. Or in other words, he has a marvelous case of Good Samaritan syndrome (a whole eleven years before Kudou Taiki, at that!). “Feeling useless” is pretty much on the very, very top of the list of things he hates the most. And, by his own admission, “fighting” is not really his specialty, and he doesn’t even particularly like it himself.

But he wants to meaningfully contribute in some way, and now, here’s an option that isn’t fighting: he has the roots in a talent for treating the wounded and preventing casualties that way. All he has to do is hone it. And just like how Shin decided that he specifically wanted to be a doctor in a place where a doctor would be needed most, Jou also decides he specifically wants to be a doctor for the Digital World, because that is something he can meaningfully provide for instead of becoming a doctor for the status.

He’s still going to disappoint his father this way, but never mind that: he’s found something that he wants, and it’s his own path, like Shin told him to follow. And yes, that means even if he has to fight his own blood phobia to do so.

And this becomes very important to how he’s able to confidently help bring Sora out of her darkness-induced spiel in Adventure episode 51, where she -- who has a problem with a compulsive tendency to burn herself out in helping others -- starts falling into despair because she caves to the pressure of having to save everyone. Yamato and Jou, together, simply re-shift her frame of mindset: it’s not that being a Chosen Child is about trying and failing to fulfill a particular duty, it’s that there’s a situation happening and they are actively making the choice to do everything they can. Because, really, Jou himself understands it best -- he’s never been someone good at doing things because other people tell him to, he’s someone who’s gotten this far because of his own personal sense of responsibility and priorities being so strong, and that’s why he’s capable of pushing on with his own path and what he wants.

02 and beyond

Jou was, unfortunately, forced to sit out the events of Our War Game!, but as far as blaming him for it goes, it’s really hard to; he had no idea this was going on at all, and by the time the incident had hit climax, he was already in the test room and impossible to be contacted. (You can imagine he was probably quite upset about not having been able to help out afterwards.) As for why nobody tries to pull him out the way they do end up pulling him aside a few times in 02, it’s because this isn’t just a practice exam for prep school -- this is THE exam. Remember, this kind of lifestyle involves a chain of needing to get into a good school to get into a good school to get into a good school, and Jou is aiming for a national university like his brothers; this actually could impact the rest of his career, and given that the other kids respect how important this is to him, it’s also understandable that they’d be a bit hesitant to pull him aside from this.

We’re first properly reintroduced to Jou in 02 episode 5. Unlike Taichi, Yamato, Sora, and Koushirou, Jou does not attend Odaiba Middle School, which means that, assuming that the Adventure universe Odaiba is like the real-life one in which Odaiba (Koyo) Elementary and Middle are the only schools on the island, Jou regularly spends his school and prep school days off the island and quite separated from the others. Instead, Jou attends a private middle school (hence why he had to take an exam to get in), presumably one that’s intended to help him on the medical school track.

But despite that, his first major scene in the series is to ditch prep school to go help Gomamon. For someone who doesn’t know Jou very well, this probably would seem appalling -- that someone so studious would be so willing to ditch at the drop of a hat -- but anyone who does know him well would probably not be surprised; after all, “being a doctor” is still a far-off dream, whereas Gomamon needs help now, and the number one thing Jou can’t stand is to leave people in need behind.

Unlike with Taichi, Yamato, Sora, and Koushirou, who all have some degree of connection to the 02 juniors in some way (Taichi and Yamato being Hikari and Takeru’s brothers, Taichi and Sora having known Daisuke from the soccer club, and Koushirou having known Miyako from the soccer club), Jou is a complete stranger when he’s introduced to Daisuke, Miyako, and Iori, with Digimon-related work being the only connection they have to him at all. Despite that, the new 02 kids, being well-behaved juniors who really look up to their elders, immediately endear themselves well to him -- in fact (you can thank @takerusfedora for this observation), Miyako squishing Poromon in delight upon seeing him, and the context she usually does this in, hints that she might even see him as attractive. (Considering that he’s a prospective medical student from an elite family, this probably shouldn’t be too surprising.)

While the fact he’s medical school bound isn’t explicitly brought up in the series itself, the fact he’s well on that path is already pretty evident by his actions, given that he comes stocked with heating pads and other medical supplies, just in case. Takeru comments on him always being prepared -- because he’s constantly thinking of other people and how he can be useful to them.

This episode also marks the beginning of a particular relationship between Jou and Iori, which is quite an interesting one considering that we’re talking about the oldest and the youngest of the group of eleven (not quite twelve yet) Tokyo Chosen Children at this point. As many point out even within this episode, Jou and Iori have a lot in common, and it’s likely Jou sees a bit of himself in Iori -- someone who has a firm insistence on principles (even beyond the point of practicality), but also is protective of others and hates to see them hurt. Not only that, Iori had even gotten a similar lesson from his grandfather earlier in the episode about the importance of “making one’s own decisions” -- and so, the two share common ground in Iori having ditched his “duty” to practice kendo with his grandfather that day in order to help Gomamon, and Jou having done likewise via ditching his prep school classes. Because Iori will always have more kendo lessons, and this certainly won’t be the last prep school class Jou has, but these are effectively two kindred spirits who care so much about friends in need that prioritizing them over all else is non-negotiable.

Jou compliments Iori by calling him “dependable”, which is a huge compliment coming from someone who, at this point of the story, regularly attracts comments like “dependable senior”. 02-era Jou gets this kind of reference a lot in press materials and fan descriptions of him, because now that he’s matured a bit and isn’t as prone to making ridiculous, reckless decisions or being as emotionally high-strung, his on-point aspects like being very on-task and always keeping his word are much more visible.

Well, that said, he still kind of starts screaming loudly as soon as he hears his dad is supposedly in trouble in the middle of his exam in 02 episode 16, so he’s still a little emotionally high-strung. But never mind that!

As usual (especially since this is most likely a practice exam, one of many Jou will be taking for the next year), Jou doesn’t mind being interrupted all that much; it’s not like exams are any fun anyway, so of course Jou doesn’t really care about being pulled from it, especially when Daisuke and the others are literally suffocating to death at that exact moment.

Unfortunately, for Iori, this entire incident is a convergence of things totally eating away at his psyche; he’s still blaming himself for everyone being trapped down there, he’s just placed a burden on Jou, and his grandfather had just said that lying is the worst thing that one could ever do, so now Iori thinks of himself a horrible, undeserving person. But Jou is someone who empathizes with being so stuck on “principles” that you forget the big picture, and reframes it in a way Iori can understand: lies are bad when they hurt people, but in this case, not lying would have led to much, much worse happening, and both Iori and Jou share that common ground of absolutely hating the feeling of standing by and doing nothing while others are in trouble.

We also finally meet the third (or, technically, second) Kido brother in 02 episode 33, Kido Shuu -- and while we don’t see him interact directly with Jou (at least, not until the drama CD), what we learn about him contextualizes Jou’s situation even further: Shuu not only decided to leave the path of inheriting his father’s clinic, he’d also decided to ditch the medical school path entirely, switching to humanities because he was so fascinated by Professor Takenouchi’s work. That’s a pretty drastic shift, but, as Shin had said in the novel, Shuu is the type to be independent enough to do whatever he wants without Shin even having to advise him of this, and given that he made this decision less than a year after the events of Adventure, it was likely a huge motivator in Jou deciding that their prior “example” of being medical students wasn’t necessarily something he needed to follow when both of his own brothers weren’t even following that standard anymore to begin with.

And, much like with Jou, Shuu’s new chosen profession also brings him closer to the Digimon, except in an “understanding more about them” sense rather than Jou’s medical sense. So, just like Shin wanted, all three brothers found their own paths.

In Diablomon Strikes Back, Jou is thankfully blessed with being much more available to deal with the conflict; he starts off stuck in a long line to register for high school in the midst of scrambled records, but comes to assist Daisuke and Ken with a bike as soon as he’s able. This movie being quite the comedic one, you get to see a bit of his disaster tendencies slip back in as he scrambles to help everyone -- but, as always, he’s doing his best.

A lot of people have also pointed out that the movie spends an awful amount of scenes depicting him in the company of the girl he borrowed the bike from, which has led to a few amusing extrapolations, but at the base level implies that he at the very least wanted to make absolute sure that her bike was safely returned to her once everything is over -- after all, Jou would hate to be responsible for someone losing a bike, or in debt to someone. He’s someone who fulfills his obligations, after all.

By the time Jou actually is in medical school in Kizuna, he truly has become among the crowd too busy to participate regularly in Digimon incident tackling (similar to Sora and Mimi), but To Sora indicates that he’s still keeping tabs on everyone through their group chat and emotionally supporting them, and it’s made clear in both the short and the overall movie that the rest of the group is sympathetic to and understanding of how difficult life is to juggle with all of this. Not only that, much like how Jou stated back in Adventure that he was looking for a way to meaningfully contribute and help out besides just fighting, Jou plays an important role in using his position to tend to all of the Eosmon kidnapping victims.

At least, until he ends up becoming a victim himself and is actually dragged into the fight -- and, now that he’s actually on the spot and the conflict is right in front of him, he approaches it with enthusiastic gusto, indicating that he’s still able to be as emotionally high-strung as ever.

We get more info on Jou in his Memorial Story short, “Kido Jou: Medical Student” (which takes place at some unspecified point before the movie), where we learn that Gomamon is still worried about how much that blood phobia thing might impact Jou’s career, and “tests” him by having himself and Agumon pose as mock victims. Jou, very tired and not in a mood to play, snaps at him (rather understandably, given that Gomamon is kind of being a bit insensitive here), but when Gomamon is injured, Jou immediately puts everything aside to help him, even through -- yep -- blood.

Again, it’s not entirely clear how severe Jou’s blood phobia was back when he was a kid, but it’s at least put on the table that Jou’s figured out a way to push past that in order to fulfill his dream, and especially when it involves a loved one being hurt in front of him. Jou tires himself out pretty badly with the work, but hey -- he used to jump recklessly into physical line of fire for his friends, so of course that kind of thing is nothing to him. (But he still apparently is a bit lacking in the confidence department.)

Because Jou was lucky enough to be able to concretely decide on what he wanted to do as early as elementary school, Jou’s epilogue career is naturally the single most straightforward, and really just amounts to “you know that thing he wanted to do? He did it.” And indeed, he becomes the Digital World’s first doctor -- presumably not inheriting his father’s clinic, nor following a high-status expected path, but choosing to become a pioneer in a place he has a deep emotional stake in, in a place where he’s needed because there are no alternatives. And, of course, he’s depicted treating Ogremon, who was effectively Jou’s first “patient” all the way in Adventure, the first step in him realizing that this was his path, and his alone.

Meta

Jou occupies an interesting position in the Digimon fanbase in terms of memes, considering that there’s a fanbase meme of over a decade where anything relevant to him gets people spamming “JOOOOOOOOOOOOO” (with varying levels of Os). Being a comedic but lovable character who tries his hardest but repeatedly runs himself into a corner, he also happens to resonate much harder with the adults in the audience rewatching the series, because all of us as disaster adults can just so easily look at him and go “oh, that’s me.” He also seems to be inexorably tied to the word “senpai”, given that so many characters call him that (including the 02 kids, who never went to school with him); after a certain point it’s hard to dispute that he (especially in 02) exudes this kind of “dependable senior” aura, and, like with “Ken-chan”, the Japanese fanbase has a tendency to constantly use “Jou-senpai” all of the time to refer to him affectionately.

His Japanese voice actor, Kikuchi Masami, also holds the distinction of having been in nearly every Digimon TV series to date (the only exception, as of this writing, being Appmon), with him having been Jou (and Jou’s entire family of two brothers, his mother, and his father) in Adventure and 02, Dolphin and Grani in Tamers, Neemon in Frontier and Adventure:, Kurata in Savers, and Damemon in Xros Wars. (Him being the absolutely despicable Kurata in contrast to the endearing and lovable Jou has been cited as quite a shock to many.) There’s been many a joke about Kikuchi’s constant presence, but Jou is undeniably his most iconic role for the franchise, and you can also imagine it’s conversely gotten a lot of people to fondly think of him every time Kikuchi reappears.

#digimon #digimon adventure #digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #kido jou #jou kido #kizuna spoilers #shihameta #cw blood mention

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spencers-renaissance · 4 years

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Hear it in the Silence

Summary: A short, fluffy chronicle of Spencer realising in increments how in love with Derek he is, and navigating a real, beautifully sweet relationship that's not always smooth sailing, especially since he's been hurt before. (Based on Taylor Swift’s You are in Love.)

Tags: major fluff, angst, past abuse, hurt/comfort, fights, making up, falling in love, dev relationship

Pairing: Morgan x Reid

Word Count: 3.7k

Read on AO3 (detailed cw in notes)

They’re careful to arrive separately but unsurprisingly, subtlety is not Derek’s strong suit. Spencer has a good poker face -- although logically he knows that a cheerful, passive expressive is the best actual poker face due to its non-threatening nature -- but Derek absolutely cannot get rid of the smug, pleased smile he’s wearing proudly. It’s a good thing Spencer looks as unsuspicious as possible because as soon as he enters the room, Emily’s teasing him about the hot date he clearly had last night.

Derek might look smug but Spencer feels it: a soft swirl of satisfaction settling in his tummy, though he’s careful not to show it. He’s proud of himself for how smoothly the date went last night, much more comfortable than the first three, and he’s even happier that he can now call himself Derek Morgan’s boyfriend. He’d stayed the night for the first time last night and it couldn’t have been more special in Spencer’s eyes.

He may not be grinning like Derek is, but he’s filled with a happy sort of warmth completely unmatched by any feeling that’s ever occupied his body before. It festers and grows and develops even throughout the gruesome briefing, even when discussing the profile of an enucleator, even when looking at crime scene photos. Pretty colours still ripple through his brain, comforting him with the promise of more, the promise of purpose beyond his day job.

The colours only intensify when they walk to the jet together with Emily and JJ, chatting about their weekends in vague as possible terms. They’re nearly at the door when Derek looks at him like he did last night: like he can’t quite believe what, who, he’s seeing, like Spencer’s everything he’ll ever need to be happy. If anyone caught it, they’d be found out immediately, but they don’t.

It’s a look meant just for him.

He wants to bask in this moment for just a little longer, but they force themselves to pull their eyes away from one another and board the jet. At this point, he has no choice but to acknowledge that he will be working this case with his insides a messy, melted puddle of sentiment. And he’s not even mad about it.

⭐️

The insides of his eyelids don’t solely exist to serve their intended biological function anymore: they’re no longer just protection for his eyes but a cinema screen playing moments shared with Derek over and over again. Their first date, their first kiss, the first time Derek held him closely as he pushed slowly inside him. The looks he sends his way, the feeling of Derek’s hand in his, his broad chest and how it’s the perfect pillow for Spencer’s tired head.

Time moves too fast so Spencer has no choice but to play it back, over and over again.

“I’ve never been more jealous of your eidetic memory,” Derek chuckles when Spencer tells him this a little shyly on their next date.

At first he’s terrified his boyfriend is mocking him, not appreciating just how deadly serious he’s being, but the earnest, adoring look Derek is wearing across his features tells him otherwise. His expressive face is one of the things Spencer loves so much about him; social situations and cues are hard for him to read, but one look at Derek’s face and he knows exactly what’s happening, exactly how to respond and behave.

“It’s one of the few perks,” Spencer concedes, slipping his mittened hand into Derek’s. It’s late November and the evenings are cold, even in DC, but walking down the quiet street lit up by Christmas lights together after a delicious meal warms Spencer from the inside out.

They pause a little way down the street when Derek points up at a Christmas light decoration in the shape of a mistletoe. “It would be bad luck if we didn’t,” he says seriously despite the playfulness in his eyes.

“Can’t have that,” Spencer hums, and he plays with the wide buttons on Derek’s double-breasted coat as he leans in and connects their lips in a soft kiss, feeling Derek’s hands come to his waist in the way he likes far too much, feeling small in his boyfriend’s hold.

“An extra one for good luck,” Derek whispers as he leans in for one more after they pull away, brushing a lock of Spencer’s hair out of his eyes. “That’s how it works, you know.”

“It is?” Spencer laughs, eyes crinkling fondly at the look on his face.

“Mhm,” Derek confirms, moving his hand to Spencer’s lower back as they continue their walk back to Spencer’s apartment. “I’m a Christmas tradition expert. I know more than you, probably.”

“Sure,” Spencer grins diplomatically, leaning in closer to the warm body next to him, contentedness flooding his insides.

Derek only stays for an hour before driving back to dump his stuff and repack his go-bag for the upcoming week, but it’s sort of a good thing. A lot has happened in a very short span of time and Spencer appreciates having a bit of uninterrupted alone time to really think about what’s been going on.

They’ve had five dates by now: Derek had given him a little present to commemorate the moment, immediately making Spencer feel guilty for doing nothing of the sort, guilt which had quickly been assuaged by a gentle touch to the back of his hand. At first, he hadn’t known what to say. It was an understated necklace, a silver chain with a small triangle pendant on the end of it. He wasn’t a big jewelry person really, but on their first date, Spencer had talked at length about why triangles were his favourite shape (not his proudest moment) but Derek was so thoughtful. He could wear it all the time while easily concealing it at the same time, and it was just the most perfect gift he’d ever received.

He rolls it over in his fingers as he curls up in bed. He was falling in love with Derek, and he had absolutely no proof he was falling in love back; no proof, but he’d seen… something. Even just the present felt like statement enough. Maybe this was going to be it for him. Maybe Derek was going to finally give him the very thing he’d been craving all these years.

It’s a comforting enough thought to dampen the doubts and fears niggling at him, and it sends him to sleep with the kind of peace in his heart he’d written off as impossible a long time ago.

⭐️

Go-bags are packed, the case is wrapped up, and the team are saying their goodbyes to local law enforcement when Hotch gets the phone call.

He’s wearing a mildly irritated frown when he heads back over a few minutes later. “There’s been a problem with the jet,” he informs them, grimacing at their annoyed reactions, “so you can either drive home yourself or wait. Garcia’s re-booking the hotel for the night and I’m informed that the plane should be ready to go by the morning.”

Spencer shoots a look at Derek who immediately understands and nods in return. Columbus, Ohio is a 6/7 hour drive back to DC, and the alone time after being so close but so far for almost a week sounds like heaven. It’s only 4pm: they won’t even get home that late.

“It’s funny, isn’t it?” Spencer muses once they’re on the road, curled up in the driver’s seat with his trusty blanket tucked around him as he admires his sexy boyfriend at the wheel.

“What do you mean, baby?” he asks, looking over briefly.

“Well just last week we were talking about taking a road trip together and then Hotch not only gives us the opportunity but also provides the transport,” he says, thumbing the pendant around his neck. It’s become almost a self-soothing thing now: even if it’s usually hidden under his ties at work, just knowing it’s there settles something deep inside him.

Derek chuckles at that. “I’m not sure I imagined Hotch being quite so involved in our romantic get-away, but yes, it is one hell of a coincidence,” he agrees. “Although mark my words, I will take you on a proper road-trip one day. And I want to take you on a nice holiday, too. Paris, London, Florence. Bali, Thailand, maybe.”

Blush spreading across his cheeks, Spencer smiles over at Derek. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Derek grins over at him, “I’m gonna treat my pretty boy like it’s my job.”

“You already do.” He feels shy suddenly, a little overwhelmed at the emotions Derek is eliciting in him right now.

“Baby,” he says, shaking his head, mischief dancing in his eyes, “you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Spencer’s already thinking of counting it as their eighth date, but Derek seals the deal when he pulls off the interstate and onto a much quieter road as they near DC. It’s just gone 10 and the December night is cool and clear, but he still looks quizzically at his boyfriend as the engine shuts off.

“Trust me,” Derek says and gets out of the car. Spencer, of course, trusts Derek implicitly so obediently gets out of the car and joins him at the front of the jeep, leaning against the hood. “Look how beautiful it is.”

They’re on a country road, surrounded by wheat and barley fields, but Derek’s looking up. The night sky is littered with stars, constellations clear as day against the inky black backdrop of mid-December. “My favourite constellation is probably Cassiopeia, you know,” Spencer explains, barely observing the sky before looking to Derek to impart his knowledge. “She’s one of the only figures banished to the heavenly realm as punishment and not in honour, and it was because she flaunted her beauty too much, and her vanity--”

He’s interrupted by a hand on his forearm. “Spencer,” Derek says softly, catching his attention and slowing his info-dump. “Look up.”

Instead of thinking about all the intellectual and academic aspects of astronomy, astrology, and physics, he takes a good while to just absorb the beauty of the night, probably for the first time in his life. He lets himself rest in that moment, sinking into Derek’s side as they shiver a little in the frigid air, staring at the bright, twinkling lights smiling down at them.

For some reason, it feels like the universe’s blessing. The stars aligning, the inky sky approving, frozen air applauding. Derek leans over and kisses Spencer, holding his face in both his hands as their insides warm against the cold and in that moment Spencer knows. He still has no proof Derek feels the same way, but with one touch he knows that he’s in love.

⭐️

Spending Christmas apart is hard, but they make up for it with their eleventh date, Derek driving them over to the National Zoo and listening diligently to Spencer’s info-dumping. They spend the whole afternoon walking through all the exhibits and Derek buys him a pretty steady stream of candy-floss, hot-dogs and cuddly toys throughout their time there, keeping Spencer flushed and happy, completely in his element.

Derek cooks them dinner at his apartment afterwards, making Spencer’s favourite, a simple spaghetti bolognese with a healthy amount of homemade garlic bread on the side, and they eat at the cosy kitchen table, cheesy candles aflame as they chat easily.

They get ready for bed in tandem, brushing their teeth together, toothpaste spilling down their chins as they laugh wildly at each other in the mirror. It’s a comfortable sort of ease, a domesticity that feels far too natural for such a youthful relationship. It works though, and neither of them are complaining as they fall asleep folded into each other’s arms.

Spencer wakes up first but Derek isn’t far behind him, kissing his scrunched up nose almost as soon as he opens his eyes to find Spencer lazily curled up on his chest. “Breakfast?” he asks.

“Please.”

The toast Derek puts in ends up burning when they get distracted by one another, but Derek just laughs and puts it in the bin and drives them to McDonald’s instead. “I hope you know I’m keeping this shirt,” Spencer teases as they pull on loose sweatpants and trainers and hop into Derek’s car.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less, baby,” Derek says sincerely. “My entire wardrobe is open for your perusal. Seeing you in my clothes does things to me.”

“I know,” Spencer says, face full of faux innocence. “Why do you think I want to keep them?”

“You are such a fucking tease,” Derek smirks, shaking his head disapprovingly, “but you know I love it.”

“Mm, I do,” Spencer agrees, reaching across the console and resting a hand on Derek’s thigh.

“Oh, God, baby, you just wait until we get home.”

Spencer pulls his hand away, satisfied smile playing across his lips.

“Brat,” Derek mutters under his breath as they pull into the drive-thru. Spencer just smiles wider.

Spencer lets his guard down with Derek in a way he’s never done with anybody else and you’d have to be stupid not to notice, so of course Derek is fully aware of the responsibility on his shoulders. Later that morning, after a greasy breakfast, satisfying fuck, and a shared shower, they sprawl across the sofa, nestled into one another comfortably as the TV plays some hallmark movie in the background.

“My last boyfriend didn’t turn out so nice,” Spencer says when Derek brings up the topic of exes. It brings a heavier note to their light-hearted conversation, but he knows they’ll have to talk about it eventually and it might as well be now. “He got into it because he thought I was innocent and attractive, but when it came to actually spending time together and he found more out about me, he changed his mind.”

“Baby,” Derek murmurs into his hair, “dId he hurt you?” His voice is full of apprehension, afraid of the answer but needing to know.

“Only once,” Spencer whispers. “I left him after that. But he was kind of emotionally cruel before that and it compounded on a lot of issues I already had from when I was little, you know, with my dad and bullies and everything. It took a long time to rebuild myself, I just…”

He trails off, not knowing how to put what he wants to say into words.

“Sweetheart, I need you to know that I will never hurt you, not like that,” Derek says earnestly as he catches onto what Spencer’s afraid of deep down, caressing his arm softly. “I can’t promise I won’t make mistakes or accidentally say something wrong, but I will never hurt you like others have done in the past. You’re safe with me, pretty boy. And I am so proud of you for building yourself back up after trauma like that: you are absolutely the strongest person I know, and I don’t say that lightly, yeah?”

And, yeah. That feels like proof for Spencer.

⭐️

They keep it a secret for as long as possible, but Emily finds out in late March and Rossi follows shortly after. Even once it’s out to everyone, though, they don’t change their work dynamic, they don’t give into any kind of temptation in the field, despite not having to hide anymore. They know the only way they’ll be allowed to stay on the same team is if it doesn’t affect their actions and choices one bit. So even though Derek’s protectiveness is ratcheted up several notches, he swallows it down and doesn’t comment on dangerous situations Spencer goes into. He’s sure Spencer would find that pretty hypocritical anyway; he’s constantly chastising his own recklessness in the field.

Just because Derek bites his tongue at work, though, doesn’t mean he can’t comment on it at home. So after a particularly irresponsible decision Spencer makes in a hostage situation, seriously endangering himself, he holds it in until they step into Derek’s apartment and Spencer looks at him, confused at why he’s clearly stewing in something and not talking about it.

“What’s going on?” he asks as he toes his shoes off and makes himself at home in the same way he’s done for months now.

“What’s going on?” Derek repeats incredulously, raising his voice ever so slightly. “You were so fucking rash and reckless today Spencer, you could have died! And you ask me what’s going on? Are you fucking kidding me?” Really it’s fear manifesting itself as anger but right now the rage bubbling up inside him feels almost suffocating.

“I knew what I was doing,” Spencer says defensively, looking completely bewildered at the sudden outburst.

“You know that what you were doing was seriously endangering yourself, Spencer,” Derek argues, voice rising even more. “Yes, you saved a hostage today. But you also could have gotten yourself killed, and you have to understand that your life is not worth less than anybody else’s, okay?”

“Derek, I signed up for this life, she didn’t--”

“No,” Derek shouts. “No, don’t give me that. It would fucking crush me to lose you, Spencer, and it seems like you don’t even care about that. Do my feelings even matter to you?”

“What? Of course, they do, Derek,” Spencer says, still looking caught off guard and confused as he tries to figure out the situation and why his boyfriend is so angry. He tries to temper the unpleasant feelings filling his chest cavity, like muscle memory, fingers remembering a piece of sheet music played far too many times.

“Well then fucking prove it,” Derek yells. “You aren’t listening to me! You endangered yourself and that’s terrifying for me. Your life matters Spencer, and sometimes I feel like it matters more to me than it does to you!”

“Derek, please calm down,” he pleads, wanting to talk about this properly and not feel so ambushed. “You’re scaring me.”

That immediately catches Derek’s attention and the anger seems to leak out of him like a stopper’s been pulled out, draining him dry for only a moment before fear and guilt fill its place. “Fuck,” he mutters, sitting on the sofa and burying his head in his hands for a second before sitting up and making eye contact with Spencer. “I’m sorry, Spencer, I shouldn’t have yelled. I just… you scared me. You went against protocol today. You know that the FBI does not mandate agents putting themselves at serious risk of death or injury, even if it would save a life. Your life matters so much, to me, to the team, to your mum. People care so much about you, baby, and I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, okay? You put the fear of God in me earlier and sometimes… sometimes anger is the only way I know how to deal with those emotions.”

“I know,” Spencer whispers, and though it’s unsaid they both understand he’s acknowledging every part of Derek’s speech. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t think about how my actions would affect you. I guess I’ve gone so long as a solo act, only having to think about myself and with very little to live for, it’s just taking time to adjust to remembering that I have you and your emotions to consider now. I need you to know, though, that I can’t deal with it when you shout at me like that, if you have a problem I need you to discuss it with me because I can’t figure out what’s going on when there are lots of emotions and raised voices, it confuses and upsets me.”

“I will, Spencer, I promise. I’m so genuinely sorry I handled it so poorly this time.”

“Thank you,” he whispers gratefully.

“Come here,” Derek says, the beginnings of a smile playing over his lips. He pulls Spencer into a gentle embrace, relishing the feel of Spencer, alive, pressed against his body. His warm skin, beating heart, soft curls, all shared with him, entrusted to him.

“Next time I’ll stop and think about you, Derek,” Spencer says softly as he rests his head against his shoulder. “I’ll remember to prioritise us, remember that we can’t save everyone.”

“Thank you, baby,” Derek says. “And I’ll be more patient; remember that you haven’t had anyone to remind you properly of the worth you have in a long time. We’re good, though, aren’t we?”

“So good,” Spencer confirms, pulling back and smiling properly before kissing Derek softly. He moves down to nose at his neck slightly, pressing a few tender kisses there, too. “Shall we head to bed? You look exhausted.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Derek agrees before a cheeky smile plays across his features. “As long as you wear one of my shirts again…”

“Oh, what a hardship,” Spencer groans, winking at him in the lop-sided, awkward way he always does. “But I suppose I’ll do anything for you.”

Spencer stays up for a little while after Derek falls asleep, reading over some casenotes, a few consults, and figuring out a new angle for a research paper he’s working on. Quiet, methodical work -- no matter how gruesome -- helps him wind-down after the high adrenaline of a case and it feels extra necessary tonight after the argument he’d had with Derek.

He feels his boyfriend stir only a few hours after he’s dropped off to sleep, staring up at Spencer in the soft glow of the pink lamp on the bedside table bought for exactly these sorts of nights. A strange look plays across his face as he reaches for Spencer’s hand and holds it.

“You’re my best friend, Spencer,” he says, completely serious. “You know that, don’t you?”

Spencer’s done obsessing over proof.

“Yeah,” he whispers, looking down at their intertwined hands before back at his face, “I love you, too, Derek.” His smile softens even more when he sees Derek’s face relax into a relieved expression, knowing that his meaning was understood.

“Good,” he whispers, kissing the back of Spencer’s hand before lying his head back down on the pillow. “Night, pretty boy. I love you.”

As Derek drifts back off to sleep, he hears those words echoing around in the silence, a soothing, methodic rhythm of reassurance that what he’s wished for since the very first look on the way to the jet has materialised.

Knowing it is one thing, but hearing it is another. Derek loves him. He hears it in the silence, feels it on the way home, and when he curls up next to his boyfriend, he can even see it with the lights off.

#my writing #moreid #moreid fic #derek #spencer #derek morgan #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #criminal minds writing #criminal minds angst #tw abuse #criminal minds fluff #moreid fluff #derek x spencer #derek morgan x spencer reid

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xonepeacelovex · 4 years

Text

baby, i'm bad news

bad news

Seo Changbin

Getting in a relationship with him will only end in one way, heartbreak. There are many things you’ve prepared yourself when you started dating Changbin. The first one was the public not accepting your relationship especially you are a non-celebrity. Until now your relationship with him is a secret except for your family and his members.

The second thing was his schedule. Something you both don't have a control over. It was never really a problem for you at first. What do you expect? He’s an artist. His job is to perform around the world. You also strongly believe that is his purpose in life, to write music and share it in which he is doing a good job.

Seo Changbin

Your family adores him even though you are not quite sure for your brother and father. They are both not vocal on hating him but they are both protective for the rare moments Changbin comes over to your house.

Whenever that happens, your mother will make sure to cook something special. “Eat up Changbin. Don't be shy.”, saying it with motherly smile. Cooking a feast for your boyfriend that sometimes made you question who is really her own child. You are convince that she adores Changbin more than you. Eager for you and Changbin to get married. Slipping the topic of marriage during the sumptuous dinner. In which, every time, you whined at her to stop while Changbin laughs at how cute you are.

Your father though, he is a quiet man but whenever Changbin takes you home. He always makes sure your bedroom door is open, suspicious of you two. Volunteering to bring the fruits your mother prepared for Changbin so he can enter your bedroom. Lingering eyes on Changbin before exiting your bedroom, making Changbin nervous. You’ll always laugh at Changbin, teasing him.

You are always the unattractive sibling compared to your siblings. You were never worried about relationships, more focused on achieving your goals. Being the second child, you thrive on the things where your older sister aren’t good which are academics and arts. While your younger brother, is also a heartthrob and you know he broke too much hearts in this lifetime. Always joking he’ll probably suffer in his next lifetime.

For that reason, your sister didn’t take the news of you dating the Seo Changbin seriously until one day when he took you home. “I thought you are joking.”, in which you just rolled your eyes. From then on, whenever Changbin comes over, she’ll ask him if he has any friends to introduce to her.

On the other hand, your younger brother is still convincing you to break up with him. “He’ll end up breaking your heart.”, he said to you after you bid goodbye to Changbin one time. “And why?”, you asked irritated at him, entering your house. “Because...”, thinking the reasons Changbin is a bad news. When he can't think of any reasons or more like he can’t say the reasons, you left him there, entering your bedroom. You sigh, plopping down on your bed. Seriously, this family.

Changbin: I have a good time with your family.

You smile while reading his text message.

You: I thought they scared you enough to break up with me.

Changbin: Don’t say that. I’ll never break up with you.

You: I’ll screenshot this to use against you when the time comes.

Changbin: You’ll never use that though.

You: Your way too good with words.

Changbin: I’ll be flying for the world tour tomorrow night. I miss you already.

You: I miss you too.

Seo Changbin

The man you are watching from afar. The way he performs on the stage, you can feel his love for this job. You are indeed right when you said to him that the stage is his home. He shines more when he’s performing with Stray Kids. You can’t help but to tear up as you watch him. He is only going up from now on. You feel kinda bad for yourself. You are still indecisive if being a doctor is really your purpose for this life. That night, as you watch your boyfriend performs, you kinda wish you’ve realised your dream sooner.

When the concert ends, you excitedly went to the backstage, eager to congratulate him and the boys of their successful concert. Your clammy hands holding the bouquet of flowers, you waited for him at the sidelines. He’s extremely busy taking photos with the guests that you waited for hours.

He was ready to go home when he was informed that you are waiting for him by their manager. You can’t blame their manager because you knew concert is a lot hectic than any other events, thinking that probably he forgot to tell Changbin. With a head hanging low, ready to go home, you left the bouquet at the bench. When he arrived at the bench where you are waiting, he saw a bouquet of his favourite flowers. He immediately looked at his dead phone. Frustrated that he can't call you either.

With a heavy heart, he went home to pack again, this time for the US tour.

Seo Changbin

Calling. Your phone lights up with his name on the screen. All the sadness you felt earlier disappeared immediately after seeing his name. You answered it with a happy but groggy tone, “Hey.”. “Hi. Did I wake you up?”, he asked you, worry in his voice. “I’m about to sleep but that’s okay.”, you answered him honestly. “Sorry.”, disappointment can be heard on his voice that it made your stomach churned. Smiling even though he can’t see you, you understand him. “It’s fine. Congratulations for the successful concert. My boyfriend looks cool on stage.” you joked to lighten up the mood.

When he said that the word ‘Sorry’ for the first time you knew it will never be his last one. Changbin knew that also.

Seo Changbin

The inevitable happened too soon.

The first thing he did when the plane landed on Korea was to call you. After months of not seeing each other, you feel happy and excited. A few minutes of talking over the phone because of time difference is no longer a problem. You have many things to tell him. The first one will be, you are finally decided to take the path of medicine. The months he is in abroad you are busying yourself with studying for the entrance exam of a prestigious medicine school. Today, you received an email that you passed the exam. You wanted Changbin to be the first one to hear the good news.

You both agreed to meet in the cafe you first met.

Changbin was sitting quietly, looking outside the cafe. The table doesn't have any drinks on it. You knew that moment that this supposed date will be last the one.

“I think we should stop before it gets deep.”, he said calmly as he can, confirming your intuition. “I don't want to break your heart.”, looking at your eyes, a glint of sadness in his eyes. “I’m no good for you. Baby, I’m bad news.”

Seo Changbin

The last thing you prepared yourself when you started dating Changbin was the break up. Though you entered this relationship hoping that Changbin will be the first and last, the one you’ll marry someday, your end game. Holding on his words that the situation you are both facing right now will never happen. Now that those words crossed your mind, he never promised anything. Those words you thought were never a promise to begin with. Lucky him. You can’t hold it against him. He knew from the start he can’t keep a promise.

After collecting your thoughts, you nodded at him. Finally, ready to say something. “But you know what Changbin?”, you asked him a rhetorical question. “I’ve prepared myself for this heart break right from the start because I’ve realized sooner that heart breaks are part of loving you.”. Swallowing the lump forming in your throat, “Thank you though for being a part of my life, Seo Changbin.”, standing up and leaving the cafe before the tears leave your eyes.

#stray kids #skz #stay #stray kids seo changbin #stray kids changbin #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfics #stray kids au #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenario #stray kids fanfic #changbin imagines #changbin scenarios #changbin angst

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beloved-judged · 3 years

Text

The inexpressible

This is going to be a bit... fragmented.

I should say, up front, that one of my degrees is an MFA--poetry and creative non-fiction. I have a license to poet, to be abstract and playful with language, and training in recognizing the internal structure of meaning as it is presented in language use.

I also took an absolute ass load of rhetoric courses, eventually taking Greek coursework (in addition to the mandatory Latin) in order to read the texts left us by various rhetors and their historians side-by-side with their translations.

I do language. It’s a different brain than I use on the daily in programming (and in fact, they’re oppositional for some subsets of use), but I’ve proved to the satisfaction of an academic committee that I can language just fine, even convincingly.

A confluence of events today: my papa releasing a blizzard of podcasts in the last two days, re-reading Snow Crash, and a bunch of random events have lead me to spend the last few days contemplating language.

It’s going to be here because it applies to the things my papa has been talking about.

When you choose to speak, take for granted you have already lost a lot of meaning--to render a situation into language is to make decisions about what it is, how it is, and how others may understand it, all of which are bound to your individual understanding (as well as whatever social rules, ideas, etc you have absorbed, because we’re not islands.) To make those decisions is to decide what is important and relevant, what others may understand, and what you want others to understand.

And to make those decisions is to decide not just what’s included, but what is omitted. This starts the second words come into play and before it, in the language we are inculcated with.

The latest podcast my papa released is a parable about one of the founding fathers of Sufism, which I will spoil and say the moral of the story is that the presence of someone who has achieved enlightenment is just as important as any attention they might give you (and in some cases, to not give attention at all, so as not to feed the ego.)

The presence, without language--to exist within eyesight and hearing, without direct interaction.

In Snow Crash, the author plays with an old, old dichotomy: religions of the book (that is, legalistic religions which base their principles on a written text which is required to take a form which does not permit as much individual interpretation) versus cultic religions, in which enlightenment is achieved through individual experience and is not subject to being ruled or shaped by the contents of a text.

Christianity is, at best, a mixed bag by that criteria, but tends toward a religion of the book rather than a cultic religion--as it is practiced in many places, it has elements of personal enlightenment, but is checked (at least in theory) against the text of the Bible, which is considered the authority on what it is and means to be a Christian. Again, in theory. This may not be true of individual Christian groups, churches, or Christians and it does not matter if it is true. Christianity bases itself on the Bible as a general rule.

A religion of a central text, against which all things are (supposed to be) checked.

One of the most haunting reads in my rhetorical studies was The Phadreus--a dialog on the nature of rhetoric (the art of persuasion). In the book, which is arranged as a long dialog, Socrates is talking to Phadreus about the nature of language, persuasion, and what makes a good versus a bad rhetor. There is a whole section where he talks about the relationship between writing and speech in rhetoric, remarking that he does not trust writing to do what it is supposed to do (to serve as an aid to memory, to make the idea immortal). He remarks that to read and write a thing is inadequate to produce experts, and that expertise requires something more in terms of experience and inspiration.

Or to put it a slightly different way: you might be able to write down instructions on how to do a complex thing, but the instructions by themselves are not going to make someone capable of performing the task well.

And, as he remarked, all too often when we commit something to writing, we promptly cease to make the effort to remember it--remembering becomes a problem of the medium we write in.

We wrote it down, now it’s the paper’s job to remember it.

This can, as he points out in The Phadreus and elsewhere in the texts produced by Plato during that period, lead to the state where people can take their speech--that is, the things produced from their mouth--and treat it as if it does not belong to them, as if, because they are quoting, they no longer ‘own’ the words they speak, and thus are not bound to the consequence of them.

You can see an awful lot of this in white, academic, and main cultures: if I’m quoting someone else, it’s not my fault. If I am sufficiently careful to quote, I can get away with saying all kinds of things and have a reasonable expectation that I won’t be held accountable for it.

In primarily oral cultures, as a quick side note and by contrast, what you say (the promises you make) is a profound reflection of you as a person, and you will be held accountable for it. Everything that comes out of your mouth, you own, and there is no shield of ‘just quoting’ or ‘just saying’ to save you from suffering the consequences of your speech.

Magic, where it concerns speech, often appears to me to inherit from that understanding of the word. That which issues out of your mouth is a spike, affixing you to consequence, that you cannot wriggle out of.

Trusting in the written word also, as Socrates points out, tends to lead to the state where the writer thinks they have been clear, and the reader thinks they have understood, but neither are right: the written word does not lend itself to clarity, but to deceptive equivocation. The appearance of clarity, but only if both parties do not think deeply or ask much of the interaction, and part of the inability of the book to produce experts has to do with the absence of expertise and inspiration to enforce clarity.

I find that is much on my mind--where we find clarity. I have about twenty years of training in academia, in finding clarity in books. I would be hard-pressed to count how many books I’ve read, even by genre. It is where my mind is ... comfortable. A confluence of training and natural inclinations.

The experts with whom I might study to understand rhetoric, say, are dead and dust in the ground, in some cases for thousands of years. They cannot be present with me, and while there are plenty of modern scholars with whom I might study, I am unlikely to ever have the chance to do so.

There is something tied to presence, something which governs learning. In Snow Crash, which is very much propaganda for literate societies, the idea that there is a pre-verbal experience of understanding or something that defies the ability to be verbalized within literature structures, is a virus analogous to herpes: something that represents an invader of the ordered, literate body, which subverts it and irreparably harms the health of the body and the mind.

Without the book to govern thought, all is madness, and those who are trained in specific kinds of literacy (in the case of Snow Crash, technical literacy) are susceptible to a madness which burns out their ability to think and their identity, their ability to appear rational to the literate society around them. They become as individualized as an insect, which is to say that they have no individual identity.

That is where I am going--to that non-verbal place. It’s a thought that fills me with anxiety, but also with relief. I cannot touch rationality but to notice irrationality in it, the vital absences which compose the underpinning of rationality, both in language and in concept.

Language is a slippery bastard.

Vodou is a cult, by the definition of the majority religion (Christianity), and by definition in general, in that it has no centralized authority (no pope), no central dogma (a Bible, say), and relies on individual experience with the divine (in possession, inspiration, or through witnessing a possession.) It is also a community-driven religion: mutual support, mutual aid, mutual living. It has authority figures (the priests), but the authority structure is very localized. A priest is the priest for his or her temple, not for every vodouizant everywhere. Authority is recognized, but not universal.

Atop that, it is also very much an oral culture: you are absolutely responsible for your words.

In my experiences with possession so far, both partial (someone else was using my body and I could witness but not interfere) and complete (black out), it has been a place where all my literacy, all my rationality (and I used to teach logic), all the things I would call my identity, were pointless. Either gently but firmly pushed aside, or gone altogether with the rest of me. And I have never, in my experience of being partially possessed, spoken.

Moved? Sure. Expressed something? Yes. Performed feats? Yep.

Fully possessed, however, I’m told my body has done a lot of speaking.

But the literate qualities of myself, the parts writing this entry, were either absent or entirely beside the point. It is not an easy thing to flirt with the destruction of these parts of myself. It’s deeply, deeply discomforting to recognize that where I am going, I am not. Where I am going, all that I am now will be beside the point.

Existential panic, I think, is about right.

What am I, without language? What remains in those spaces?

I cannot enjoy the wine of oblivion without reaping it--I cannot enter the waters of the void in meditation and not expect to have to perform the work necessary to come back and swim it.

What words, what shapes, what law is written on me in such places?

I hope the lwa will forgive me for being afraid.

The more I see of what I will be losing, the more... frightening the cost becomes. The fear of becoming a babbling adept, the fear of losing my ability to appear rational in rational society, the loss of those years building expertise.

The loss of myself, those endlessly reflecting mirrors of structure so painstakingly cultivated, and I know my papa would say “no, not yourself. What you think you are” but it is not entirely comforting.

And if I lose this, this speaking self writing these words...

And if I lose...

I struggle at this price. Does it seem dramatic? Only because this is the bastion I have spent my life defending against the attacks of family, colleagues, and a world determined to tell me that women cannot be rational.

I have been beaten for knowledge. Repeatedly. For daring to ask questions. I have been forcibly excised from academia, because I could not find enough support to defend myself against harassment. I have given up relationships and exposed myself to constant, crippling criticism and the many cruelties of people who found my presence intolerable. I have given up meals, a bed under my head, clothes, love, children, and the acquisition of wealth to know. There has been no easy path to knowledge for me, no family poised to encourage and protect, no social matrix to provide support.

This is the next price I will have to pay. Just a pound of flesh from nearest my heart.

What will be left of me, this babbling self ironic in the drive to cage in language what ultimately dissolves it?

I do not know if I can pay it. I can only... make myself try because I will keep my word.

And because anything else will never be enough.

My love, my love, the crown of my soul, papa, patron, master--you scare me.

#vodou #language

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problematic-nova · 4 years

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This commentary is a bit different this time. Rather than Sherlock meta, now that everything Oscar did is out of the bag, it's taking a closer look at upper academia, and how something like Sherlock and Oscar could actually play out in real life, because it was another one of the inspirations for this fic. I'm from the US, not the UK, which of course has its differences, most notably in the UK's lack of tenure. But I did talk with some UK academics when outlining this fic, and was assured my reasoning was sound. These stories of abuse come out of UK universities just the same as they do US ones-- professors are just even more protected here than they are there.

(As an aside, none of this is at all meant to scare anybody heading into college or grad school. I was in two different programs, and while my mentor for one was a fucking nightmare, my two mentors for the other were absolute angels. There are plenty of supervisors that do very good work. If you're applying for such positions, what you want to do is talk to students currently in that professor's lab/studio/whatever, alone (I very gleefully sent an entire group of prospective students running from mine), and try and see what you can find out from former students. High numbers of transfers/drop outs are not a good sign. Neither are high numbers of students that graduated, and then left the field entirely.)

For many STEM degrees, your graduate school experience is you, beholden to your supervisory professor (PI), for 4-6 years. To even get into a good graduate program, you will also have needed to have extensive research experience in your undergraduate, underneath one or two other PIs, and you will need good recommendation letters from them as well. Humanities degrees are even more of an apprenticeship model, but that's really what it is-- if you have a competent mentor, and you're a good student who works hard, you'll be all right. If you have a good mentor, the experience can be amazing. If you wind up with a bad mentor, it can be a career-ender.

The problem is, in these fields, you don't have a choice: if you don't have a recommendation letter from your PI, that's it. You won't be hired, or accepted to any future programs. If you wind up with a bad mentor, your only choice is to suck it up, stick it out, somehow get yourself through the program without a competent teacher while still getting their letter, and graduate as quickly as you can.

And bad mentors do, often, look quite a lot like Oscar. The sexual abuse is less common, and even for tenured profs in the US, a sexual relationship with a student is grounds for termination. But everything else that Oscar did in the fic was something I saw profs do in my own time at school: not bothering to show up to meetings with students or other staff, shrugging their own responsibilities off onto their students, demanding they work twelve+ hour days six/seven days a week, sabotaging them to their final committee hearings, and in STEM fields, scooping their data and publishing it out from under them. (I once even saw a PI threaten their post-doc with deportation.) The structure of upper academia unfortunately rewards such behavior: you are guaranteed a slow, steady trickle of young, inexperienced students, who are excruciatingly reliant on your approval, don't have a backup program/plan to fall back on, and are probably lacking in any other professional experience. Most don't realize the appropriate boundaries to set, and even if they do, will be too afraid to try and set them.

What options does a student in such a situation have? Well: not many.

A student can report things to the administration. But the administration is very invested in protecting their respected professor, and not all in protecting their dime-a-dozen, shit-stirring student. This is a report that is also likely tantamount to career suicide: while these reports are technically confidential, like I said above, these programs are pretty close to apprenticeship models. The prof in question is not going to be wondering who made this report, and other professors in the department (whose approval you will need for collaborations and your hearings to defend your research) will hear about it too: they will hear that a student whined about their friend and colleague, in a field where students whining about their colleagues for non-issues, like a deserved failing grade, are very common. And, at least in the US, if your professor is tenured, unless you have something actually illegal to report, your report will amount to /absolutely nothing/.

For example: Sherlock's ulcer story was inspired by my own. I had a different medical condition (and there was no sexual abuse), but all the other details were the same-- I had been doing extra work for my prof that undergrads weren't meant to do, work that she had ‘offered’ to sign me up for because I was ‘so talented’ (read: a doormat) and wouldn't take no for an answer. Later, I was injured over summer, outside of school, and got a doctor's note stating that I couldn't continue that particular work. I showed it to my prof and the dean of the school, and, in writing, established I would not be doing that extra work this semester (which, again, I was not even meant to be doing in the first place). A few weeks later, one day before the drop date (therefore preventing me from withdrawing), my prof went behind my back, signed me up for it anyway, explicitly against multiple school rules, and told me I would just need to withdraw from my other conflicting classes. Classes that she had known about, and knew were requirements for my other degree program. She announced that my doctor was a quack, that she would pay for me to see a massage therapist instead, and proceeded to lie to me when she assuring that she'd arranged matters with the other profs, who would work to accommodate me. They had no idea what I was talking about.

I was in a uniquely protected position, so I did report her to the school, to a very understanding administration, who told me everything that had happened was shockingly inappropriate and unacceptable, and that they were amassing a case against her. As it turned out, they had reports of abuse of power, racism, staggering incompetence, refusal to perform her expected duties, and extremely unprofessional displays from many other affected students. Their stories were just as wild and unbelievable as mine, any one of which would've been enough to get someone fired from a more ordinary job. In the end, she wasn't even reprimanded, and I was told my only option was to stick it out, or drop out of the program and my degree, with one semester left to go. I, very stupidly, chose the former, and as a result of ignoring my doctor's note, still have chronic pain, and ironically enough, now can't even use the degree I made that sacrifice for because of it.

Sherlock would actually be an exception to all of this. When you are /that/ intelligent, and going by the fandom's assumptions, have that much money/all those family connections, you can't really fail badly enough to not be able to get back up. If he'd wanted to find a graduate program that would take him, he could have. But for everyone else, like Victor, what Oscar did to him genuinely was a career-ender. He wouldn't have been able to get hired for any decent position, and he wouldn't have been able to get an acceptance at any other program to try again, after nearly ten years of working towards that degree.

Basically, fuck upper academia with a rusty steak knife.

#sherlock #academia #cw abuse #i can talk for HOURS about this woman istg #as my poor friends can attest to :'D

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grindskull · 4 years

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Shit that fucks me up #1 - Toxic Masculinity and being a “man”

Gotta have some way to organize my random thoughts here. I’m going with the obvious thing - Shit that fucks me up (STFMU). This is about me and my experiences. It is not my intention to discredit or question other human experiences. Sharing in the hopes of connecting with others who may have feel similar in their own skin. There are things here that others may define as triggers so read at your own risk (rape, abuse, and this fucking world). ---

Here is me being vulnerable. I am putting myself out there by discussing masculinity and how I often do not identify with the larger concept of “being a man” in any positive way. You can call it toxic masculinity if you prefer. It’s acceptable shorthand for something that is just as nuanced and difficult to wade through as anything gender related. I read this article on The Atlantic yesterday and there were some things that really resonated with me and my experience as a man/male (he/his/him). You can read it here (sorry there is a pay wall if you read more than 4 articles a month) but I will also be quoting some of the article below. If you have time to read the article I’ll wait. It’s a bit long (many articles on The Atlantic are) and kind of academic at times. It’s okay if you don’t agree with everything in the article. Just read it. Done? Okay let me set the stage a bit for how this shit fucks me up. ---

I’m male. I have always identified as a male/boy/man in my life. Unfortunately my experience with other males/boys/men has been mostly negative. It started at an early age when I had a hard time connecting with other boys my age. I was not interested in typical “male” interests like sports, violence, competition, and achievement. I had few (usually 1 or 2) friends at any one time and they typically had some kind of unhealthy power dynamic over me where I was subservient to my “friend” in some way. I have some thoughts on reasons why this happened. The short version is I lived in poverty (often extreme) and I was searching for help and support in order to survive. At home I had abuse (mental, physical, verbal), drugs, addiction, and neglect. It was not a safe place to be so I did whatever I could to not be there. It was not unusual for me to eat maybe one meal during the day (typically what I could get from others at school or their home). Winter was the worst as we often did not have heat. Some of my “friends” used this as a way to hold power over me and make demands of my personality, time, and attention. Imagine finding yourself in this situation - you have to actively work to not be yourself in order to appease others for your very survival. Of course as a youth I didn’t identify it this way - my “friends” were just bossy or demanding. All of my male role models were basically assholes who did not give a fuck about anyone except themselves. This was a huge part of the 80′s zeitgeist in popular culture at the time as well. In some ways nothing has really changed. “... when asked to describe the attributes of “the ideal guy,” those same boys appeared to be harking back to 1955. Dominance. Aggression. Rugged good looks (with an emphasis on height). Sexual prowess. Stoicism. Athleticism. Wealth (at least some day).“ Under this common definition of “masculinity” I do not see myself. I am loyal, honest, caring, and sweet (to those I love). I love my body though I am non-athletic and have been most of my life. I am an attentive and talented lover but I have had very few sexual partners in my life and never saw them as moments of “conquest”. I was dirt poor most of my life but now live comfortably in my own home with my long term partner. So while not “wealthy” it is far beyond anything I could have imagined I would have in my life as a boy. Stoicism I have down. That one was easy. For me it’s just a nice way of saying “I have completely disconnected from my emotions and not having feelings or emotions is the best way to be a man”. I believed that for a very long time - it’s only in the past 2-3 years I have begun the work of breaking that down and reconnecting with my own emotions. It’s all tied up in trauma, depression, and anxiety so it takes a bit of fucking work but it’s very much worth it. If you are a man/male who thinks it is normal to not have emotions (or that emotions make you feminine/weak) please listen to me - THAT IS BULLSHIT. YOU OWE IT TO YOURSELF TO HAVE EMOTIONS.

“... young men described just one narrow route to successful masculinity. One-third said they felt compelled to suppress their feelings, to “suck it up” or “be a man” when they were sad or scared, and more than 40 percent said that when they were angry, society expected them to be combative.“

Emotions are not weakness. You are not weak for having them, feeling them, or connecting with them. There is great strength in connecting with yourself and understanding your emotions. Don’t let anyone tell you different. They are delusional at best and actively trying to harm you at worst.

“While following the conventional script may still bring social and professional rewards to boys and men, research shows that those who rigidly adhere to certain masculine norms are not only more likely to harass and bully others but to themselves be victims of verbal or physical violence. They’re more prone to binge-drinking, risky sexual behavior, and getting in car accidents. They are also less happy than other guys, with higher depression rates and fewer friends in whom they can confide.”

---

How did we get here!? Have men always been this way? What about the good ole masculinity of ye olden times? It was a simple time where men were men right? A man’s man? “According to Andrew Smiler, a psychologist who has studied the history of Western masculinity, the ideal late-19th-century man was compassionate, a caretaker, but such qualities lost favor as paid labor moved from homes to factories during industrialization. In fact, the Boy Scouts, whose creed urges its members to be loyal, friendly, courteous, and kind, was founded in 1910 in part to counter that dehumanizing trend. Smiler attributes further distortions in masculinity to a century-long backlash against women’s rights. During World War I, women proved that they could keep the economy humming on their own, and soon afterward they secured the vote. Instead of embracing gender equality, he says, the country’s leaders “doubled down” on the inalienable male right to power, emphasizing men’s supposedly more logical and less emotional nature as a prerequisite for leadership.”

Take a minute to read that and really take it in. Like many things in the US (and the world) the effects of industrialization and war shaped our current version of accepted masculinity. More specifically the leaders of this country (and leaders in other countries) used their positions of power to strengthen men and this new masculinity in our institutions. Then we were taught that this was the “right way” to “be a man”. FUCK. THIS. SHIT.

“Today many parents are unsure of how to raise a boy, what sort of masculinity to encourage in their sons. But as I learned from talking with boys themselves, the culture of adolescence, which fuses hyper-rationality with domination, sexual conquest, and a glorification of male violence, fills the void.“

Here we have the core of what I experience as a man when it comes to the current socially accepted version of masculinity and why it fucks me up. I don’t identify with any of this shit! It does not feed me. It does not make me feel fulfilled and happy. It doesn’t make the world better for anyone it simply dehumanizes us all.

“In a classic study, adults shown a video of an infant startled by a jack-in-the-box were more likely to presume the baby was “angry” if they were first told the child was male. Mothers of young children have repeatedly been found to talk more to their girls and to employ a broader, richer emotional vocabulary with them; with their sons, again, they tend to linger on anger. As for fathers, they speak with less emotional nuance than mothers regardless of their child’s sex. Despite that, according to Judy Y. Chu, a human-biology lecturer at Stanford who conducted a study of boys from pre-K through first grade, little boys have a keen understanding of emotions and a desire for close relationships. But by age 5 or 6, they’ve learned to knock that stuff off, at least in public: to disconnect from feelings of weakness, reject friendships with girls (or take them underground, outside of school), and become more hierarchical in their behavior.“

I’m not going to get into the topic of my own father (that’s another post in this series for sure) too deeply but I will say I completely identify with these ideas. Emotional distance, only expressing anger, telling me having emotions was weak. This was reinforced societal norms throughout my youth through today. Don’t talk about your problems or feelings. Ball them up inside. Wall yourself off from the world. Connections = weakness that others will exploit. You must control every situation and hold power over others. FUCK. THIS. SHIT.

---

So when did I wake up? When did I start to see through this shit in some way? When my younger sister was born. It was really obvious to me that she was treated in a different way and expectations of her as a girl/woman were not the same as the expectations others had for me. Mostly I just saw the negatives in this. It took me time (and lots of communication and experiences with my partner and others) to recognize the root of this was more fucked up socialization.

“Girlfriends, mothers, and in some cases sisters were the most common confidants of the boys I met. While it’s wonderful to know they have someone to talk to—and I’m sure mothers, in particular, savor the role—teaching boys that women are responsible for emotional labor, for processing men’s emotional lives in ways that would be emasculating for them to do themselves, comes at a price for both sexes. Among other things, that dependence can leave men unable to identify or express their own emotions, and ill-equipped to form caring, lasting adult relationships.”

Read this carefully. Nobody is responsible for your emotional well being but you. If you are a male/man this is especially true - females/women are not responsible for managing your emotions and your reliance on them to take care of this is a form of abuse. They are not responsible for your emotions. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN EMOTIONS.

It can be really hard to see this. It was a blind spot for me for way too long. Don’t let it be one for you. Connecting with and taking responsibility for your emotions is one of the biggest things you can do to improve yourself as a human being. If you are sad you can cry. If you are happy you can laugh. You have a wide range of emotions and they don’t all lead to frustration or anger.

“As someone who, by virtue of my sex, has always had permission to weep, I didn’t initially understand this. Only after multiple interviews did I realize that when boys confided in me about crying—or, even more so, when they teared up right in front of me—they were taking a risk, trusting me with something private and precious: evidence of vulnerability, or a desire for it.“

---

Okay so putting aside all of the reinforcement we get from our parents and institutions and our lack of emotional vulnerability why do we all buy into this dumb shit? Who convinced us all this is what masculinity is? And why do we listen?

“What the longtime sportswriter Robert Lipsyte calls “jock culture” (or what the boys I talked with more often referred to as “bro culture”) is the dark underbelly of male-dominated enclaves, whether or not they formally involve athletics: all-boys’ schools, fraternity houses, Wall Street, Silicon Valley, Hollywood, the military. Even as such groups promote bonding, even as they preach honor, pride, and integrity, they tend to condition young men to treat anyone who is not “on the team” as the enemy (the only women who ordinarily make the cut are blood relatives— bros before hos!), justifying any hostility toward them. Loyalty is paramount, and masculinity is habitually established through misogynist language and homophobia.”

Sounds familiar right guys? Don’t kid yourself. This is what being a man looks like in almost all situations in which we feel “safe” to express our self right? You are either with us or against us. Anything different or anyone questioning this behavior must be “othered” as they are clearly not “on the team”. FUCK. THIS. SHIT.

This was my entire experience as a youth. As someone who did not fit into this group (nor wanted to) I was immediately “othered” and deemed a “pussy” or “fag” or “homo” or “weirdo”. My friend group reflected this - mostly others who also were “not on the team” like women, gays and lesbians, and men who also did not identify with this version of masculinity. Which just made it easier to group us all together and identify us as the enemy.

“Just because some young men now draw the line at referring to someone who is openly gay as a fag doesn’t mean, by the way, that gay men (or men with traits that read as gay) are suddenly safe. If anything, the gay guys I met were more conscious of the rules of manhood than their straight peers were. They had to be—and because of that, they were like spies in the house of hypermasculinity.” Without the ability to connect with and express my emotions I often reacted in anger. I started fights. I got violent (with words and writing mostly). I returned this “othering” and treated them all as the enemy. I had other reasons for this (being abused by men as a boy) but at the crux of the issue I had no trust for men. This helped me connect with women and my gay friends as they also experienced this distrust in similar (and different) ways.

Years later I found myself in a job where I managed a group of men (100 or more at any time) working as a team (video game industry) and totally unable to connect with any of them as a human let alone a man. It was at this time that I realized this was a problem beyond my own experiences and when I started to understand my own participation in this system.

I tried to question things as they came up. I tried to hear my teammates and help them navigate this murky sea of masculinity to find their own place in it. Most people didn’t want to participate. They learned to keep their mouth shut if I was within earshot of their typical “bro talk”. They learned to act differently around me so as not to incur my wrath (using my anger and position of power to punish them for being sexist, racist, or intolerant). I felt powerful and I tricked myself into thinking I was making a difference. I was wrong.

---

“Recently, Pascoe turned her attention to no homo, a phrase that gained traction in the 1990s. She sifted through more than 1,000 tweets, primarily by young men, that included the phrase. Most were expressing a positive emotion, sometimes as innocuous as “I love chocolate ice cream, #nohomo” or “I loved the movie The Day After Tomorrow, #nohomo.” “A lot of times they were saying things like ‘I miss you’ to a friend or ‘We should hang out soon,’ ” she said. “Just normal expressions of joy or connection.” No homo is a form of inoculation against insults from other guys, Pascoe concluded, a “shield that allows boys to be fully human.”

It wasn’t long before my “making a difference” spread into our hiring, training, and management of the team. I brought in women who wanted to work in the game industry. I tried to shut down any of the bro culture bullshit that came up and used it as an opportunity to teach other men why it was fucked up. It worked for some (maybe 5-6 people out of hundreds) but the majority either quit or tried to get me fired. Most did not change their behavior in any way.

The women said they knew what they were getting into. I don’t believe they knew what it was like to actually be in the middle of the situation. I assume women in the military probably have a lot of experience like this. In short - it’s fucking toxic and disgusting. Like other males/men they too have to fall in line and “become one of the boys” or risk being antagonized and ostracized for being “different”. It’s Lord of the Flies. It’s fucking mob mentality. It’s masculinity at it’s absolute worst. And this was in a “progressive” creative city working for a small company with a woman CEO. Men simply don’t give a fuck and it’s almost always easier to go with the flow. FUCK. THIS. SHIT.

My first experience with a trans individual in a work setting occurred was while I was managing this team. One of our long term employees made the transition and I had to watch how they were treated by the “bros’. Jokes were made, memes were shared, snickering and fucked up behavior was rampant. I had to talk to, discipline, and fire many individuals. These were men I thought were “on the team” and working to be good examples of masculinity. I should have known that was just part of the act - their way of surviving and showing subservience to me as a man in a position of power over them. My trust was further eroded in masculinity.

Putting yourself over others is not power. It is dehumanization and it stems from hate. We can be different without being better or worse than someone else regardless of who they are. Not everything has to be a competition. It took me way too long to undo the damage done to me by these ideal of toxic masculinity. You can do it too - you just have to start today.

---

Beyond the negative effects this version of masculinity has on us as males/men it also fucks up our interaction with women and sexual partners and it’s certainly done so to me. I’m actively working on unfucking my fucking and aware that many of my heterosexual ideals of sex stem from the same shit I have been actively fighting against most of my life. Connecting emotionally with your sexual partner takes things to a completely different level.

“It’s not like I imagined boys would gush about making sweet, sweet love to the ladies, but why was their language so weaponized ? The answer, I came to believe, was that locker-room talk isn’t about sex at all, which is why guys were ashamed to discuss it openly with me. The (often clearly exaggerated) stories boys tell are really about power: using aggression toward women to connect and to validate one another as heterosexual, or to claim top spots in the adolescent sexual hierarchy. Dismissing that as “banter” denies the ways that language can desensitize—abrade boys’ ability to see girls as people deserving of respect and dignity in sexual encounters.”

This is the first thing that comes to my mind when I hear the term “rape culture”. As men we are taught that to be masculine is to claim “wins” in sexual conquest. Sex is property and we can collect it. Even if it’s with our long term partners or spouses. Ever tried talking to men about this? Ever questioned others on how it’s fucked up? You probably heard about how it’s all in jest. Just a joke! I’m just joking! “When called out, boys typically claim that they thought they were just being “funny.” And in a way that makes sense—when left unexamined, such “humor” may seem like an extension of the gross-out comedy of childhood. Little boys are famous for their fart jokes, booger jokes, poop jokes. It’s how they test boundaries, understand the human body, gain a little cred among their peers. But, as can happen with sports, their glee in that can both enable and camouflage sexism. The boy who, at age 10, asks his friends the difference between a dead baby and a bowling ball may or may not find it equally uproarious, at 16, to share what a woman and a bowling ball have in common (you can Google it). He may or may not post ever-escalating “jokes” about women, or African Americans, or homosexuals, or disabled people on a group Snapchat. He may or may not send “funny” texts to friends about “girls who need to be raped,” or think it’s hysterical to surprise a buddy with a meme in which a woman is being gagged by a penis, her mascara mixed with her tears. He may or may not, at 18, scrawl the names of his hookups on a wall in his all-male dorm, as part of a year-long competition to see who can “pull” the most. Perfectly nice, bright, polite boys I interviewed had done one or another of these things.”

Let me be clear in case you are confused. This shit isn’t funny. Laughing at other people’s misfortune is a long standing human tradition yes - and it still dehumanizes everyone involved. That doesn’t make me laugh but maybe you are still amused? Why?

“At the most disturbing end of the continuum, “funny” and “hilarious” become a defense against charges of sexual harassment or assault. To cite just one example, a boy from Steubenville, Ohio, was captured on video joking about the repeated violation of an unconscious girl at a party by a couple of high-school football players. “She is so raped,” he said, laughing. “They raped her quicker than Mike Tyson.” When someone off camera suggested that rape wasn’t funny, he retorted, “It isn’t funny—it’s hilarious!”

The classic toxic masculinity force field present in my life has been the “just joking” phrase with the ultimate no consequence phrase “it’s hilarious!”. Say something you don’t want to manage the consequences for? Just a joke! People still question you or your morals after saying some heinous shit? No.. it’s cool... it’s hilarious! You just gotta laugh! FUCK. THIS. SHIT.

“Hilarious” is another way, under the pretext of horseplay or group bonding, that boys learn to disregard others’ feelings as well as their own. “Hilarious” is a haven, offering distance when something is inappropriate, confusing, depressing, unnerving, or horrifying; when something defies boys’ ethics. It allows them to subvert a more compassionate response that could be read as unmasculine—and makes sexism and misogyny feel transgressive rather than supportive of an age-old status quo. Boys may know when something is wrong; they may even know that true manhood—or maybe just common decency—compels them to speak up. Yet, too often, they fear that if they do, they’ll be marginalized or, worse, themselves become the target of derision from other boys. Masculinity, then, becomes not only about what boys do say, but about what they don’t—or won’t, or can’t—say, even when they wish they could. The psychologists Dan Kindlon and Michael Thompson, the authors of Raising Cain: Protecting the Emotional Life of Boys, have pointed out that silence in the face of cruelty or sexism is how too many boys become men.

I feel like I may have already gone too far into this dark hole of shit that fucks me up around toxic masculinity. I hope I didn’t lose you. I hope you have questions and thoughts about how this impacts your life. Perhaps ways that you make a change today to fight against this bullshit. You may be asking yourself “what can we do!?” At the end of the day its up to males/men to change this culture. It’s not about self-hate or self-abuse. We gotta name this and own it. We need more men to step up and say ‘It doesn’t have to be like this”. Our collective mental health requires us to be more flexible and connected to ourselves and emotions. We need to find ways to deal with our anger, frustration, and desires in ways that don’t hurt ourselves and others. We need to teach ourselves (especially youth) that it isn’t enough to only talk about things we shouldn’t (and hopefully won’t) do.

If this shit fucks you too you can do something about it. Start with yourself. Question these things when they come up. And not only when you feel “safe” to do so. Do it consistently in ways that are non-confrontational (they will probably lead to confrontations with most men anyway - sorry). Be okay with not always “winning’ in these situations. You’ll be surprised who you might connect with in the process. Hopefully one of those people will be yourself.

#mental health #masculinity #shit that fucks me up

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photographertherapistblogger2 · 4 years

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Positive Parenting - Discipline Your Kids The Happy Way, tips for personal use copied off website

Positive Parenting - Discipline Your Kids The Happy Way www.parentingforbrain.com Father ties shoes for son and smiles - positive parenting What Is Positive Parenting? How to discipline effectively? Every parent grapples with this issue. If you have young children, you know how every day can be a struggle if your child doesn’t behave. Even the most patient and nurturing parents can sometimes lose it when facing a defiant little human. Consider this: A preschooler is throwing a tantrum because Dad poured the gravy on her turkey instead of letting her do it herself. She throws up her hands, thrashing back and forth, screaming and crying for what seems like hours. Out of frustration, the Dad shouts, “Stop screaming NOW!” Does it sound familiar? Many of us are guilty of having done this more often than we’d like to admit. So how should we discipline our children without falling into such a “Do as I say, not as I do” trap? Reader Favorites From Parenting For Brain Positive Parenting Here comes Positive Parenting. It’s a parenting and disciplinary philosophy based on the work of Viennese psychiatrists, Alfred Adler and Rudolf Dreikurs. In recent years, Dr. Jane Nelsen Ed.D. refined and championed this method in her famous series of books and made it well known. Positive discipline emphasizes mutual respect and utilizes positive instructions. It focuses on learning (for the future) instead of punishing (of the past). Studies consistently show that using positive discipline yields better outcome in terms of the child’s behavior, emotional growth, academic performance and mental health. Here are 8 tips on practicing positive discipline. Tip 1: Focus On The Reasons Behind The Action There is always a reason why children misbehave even though the reason may seem silly to the parents. It is reasonable for the child and that’s why they behave that way. If parents can address the cause directly, even if they don’t get what they want, children would feel that their needs are acknowledged. They can then move on without the need to misbehave. They may still be grumpy, but they do not need to act out once they feel understood. Knowing the reason behind can also help parents avoid them in the first place. For example, a child hit his brother. The reason could be that his little brother took away his toy and he was frustrated. So teaching children to ask for permission before taking someone else’s things will prevent the issue from arising. If your child seems to never listen to you, one possible reason is that your expectation is not reasonable. Does what you ask your child to do/not to do have a good reason? Is it necessary for the well-being of your child? Tip 2: Kind And Firm Discipline Be kind to model how to be kind and respectful to others. Children learn by mimicking others and parents are their primary role models. When a parent yells, humiliates or calls a child names, the child learns to do the same when he’s upset. The converse is also true. When a parent is kind and respectful despite being upset, the child learns to deal with difficulties with composure and respect. Being kind also helps a child to calm down, be receptive to reasoning and more likely to cooperate. Being kind is not the same as giving in. Many parents mistakenly equate kindness to permissiveness. This is simply not true. You can firmly and kindly tell a child that she cannot have what she wants. There is no need for yelling, using a mean tone or talking in a stern voice. A firm and calm NO is as good as, if not better than, a loud and mean NO. Also, be firm in setting limits and enforcing consequences so that the child knows what to expect and what to base his future decisions on. Practicing decision making this way helps children grow their cognitive thinking. Tip 3: Time-Out Yourself Yes, you heard that right. You need to take a time-out yourself when needed. It is inevitable that sometimes parents are just exhausted and angered by children’s unruly behavior. But this is the true do-as-I-say-AND-as-I-do moment if you can calm yourself down and speak in a respectful and firm way. Think about this, if something doesn’t go your child’s way, do you want him to blow up, or do you want him to have the ability to control his own emotion and remain respectful? When you feel that you’re about to lose it, tell your child that you need a moment by yourself because you are upset and then go into another room. Walking away allows you the time to cool down and remind yourself about your goal in disciplining which is to teach. While there, take a few deep breaths and clear your mind for a second. This time-out technique also gives you more time and some breathing room to think of ways to deal with the issue at hand. When you return, you are refreshed and ready to tackle the challenge again. Tip 4: Be Non-Punitive. Be Creative. According to Positive Discipline: The First Three Years by Dr. Jane Nelsen, punitive punishment produces Four Rs that do not help a child learn – Resentment, Rebellion, Revenge and Retreat. Oftentimes, punishment cannot stop bad behavior and it also doesn’t teach good ones. A positive, non-punitive response is much better at settling an overstimulated child and engaging her in learning new behavior. One such response is to use positive time-out. Positive time-out differs from conventional time-out because it is non-punitive. It is not a punishment. The child is removed from stimuli that creates or aggravates the misbehavior and put into a place to cool off and feel safe. The full name of time-out is Time Out From Positive Reinforcement, invented by behavioral psychologists, Arthur Staats, when he was raising his own children. The idea is to take the child out of the environment where the problematic behavior occurs to remove the reinforcer. Eventually, the child calms down and learns to diminish or stop the undesired behavior. Unfortunately, many parents use it incorrectly as a form of punishment. They isolate and restrict the child’s movement during the time-out and add a secondary punishment by chastising and lecturing the child afterward. To use time-out properly, here are the key points: State your expectations (no hitting the dog) and consequence (time-out) clearly ahead of time. The child needs to know that he can choose the consequence by his own action. This process helps him learn to make choices and develop cognitive thinking. If he chooses to carry out the unwanted behavior, calmly tell him or take him to a quiet, safe place. Don’t call him names (you’re a bad boy), scold him, look hatefully, or be mean to him. That is, be kind and firm when using time-out. Let your child play with toys or roam around if that helps her calm down. Sometimes, when she’s very upset, you could sit and cuddle with her. Remember, it is not a punishment. Afterward, you could explain (not lecture) why her previous action was inappropriate and help her come up with a better response the next time she feels like acting out. It is not easy to come up with a positive response to every situation. Positive Discipline A-Z: 1001 Solutions to Everyday Parenting Problems, also by Nelsen is full of good advice and recommendations on how to discipline positively. It’s hard to remember all 1001 solutions or always have the book handy when you need it. So it’s important to be creative and flexible. Tip 5: Be Clear, Be Consistent And Follow Through Decide and explain the consequences of violating limits clearly before being enforced. In addition, parents need to be consistent and follow through on them. If a parent is not consistent, there will be confusion. The child may keep testing or challenging the limits to see what else can happen. To follow through means do not say something unless you mean it. For instance, do not make empty threats to cancel the ball game if he misbehaves unless you are willing to carry it out when that happens. Tip 6: Understand Brain Development And Age-appropriate Behavior Children under the age of three cannot reason because the part of their brain (prefrontal cortex) responsible for understanding consequences and making sound judgment has not yet developed. So for children in this age group, redirection instead of reasoning or giving consequences should be used. For older children, you can help their cognitive development by inductive discipline and giving them choices. Tip 7: Make It A Learning Opportunity When children are old enough to reason (older than three), every misbehaving episode can be turned into an invaluable life lesson. For instance, what is the lesson of breaking a toy? It means the child cannot play with it any more. If he didn’t like the toy, he should have given it to a friend or donate it so that others could enjoy it. If he broke a toy out of frustration, help him find other outlets to release the anger such as punching a pillow. It is also a good opportunity to give him vocabularies to explain his feelings (“I am angry because…”) rather than acting out. You are helping him develop his communication skills at the same time. Tip 8: Be Patient And Don’t Despair Positive discipline most likely won’t produce the behavioral change parents want overnight. It is not about getting fast results. It is about teaching behavior that parents want their children to emulate over time. It will take longer to see real changes because children need repetitions to learn. It can be weeks or even months before your child starts to get it. But when that happens, it will be very rewarding and the benefits will last a lifetime. With patience and (plenty of) practice, you can turn disciplinary moments into valuable lessons for kids. To happy homes!

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unproduciblesmackdown · 4 years

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40, 47, 59, 62, 76

lmao hell yeah thanks for All this support i love it!! quastions

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

really idk i feel like even our schools’s Antics were pretty par for the course and i was just sitting in the corner reading the whole time basically......trying to think if anything wild happened in college but even then it was p similar. well you know what, whatever donors covered the majority of the cost of the school’s black box theater being renovated apparently Stipulated that every other year a rodgers and hammerstein production be put on. absolute freaks. my roommate/friend and their then-boyfriend, the one mormon i have Knowingly Known in my life, were in pirates of penzance (sic?) together. hilarious

47. favorite type of cheese?

i like cheddar and like, parmesan, smoked gouda.....let’s get that shit Sharp!!! and hard lmao

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

idk i’d be like an npc just doing their weird thing on their own. i’ve never played pokemons unless you count pokemons Go but i think about the famed “i like shorts they’re comfy and easy to wear” npc kid. like, yeah. i feel the same. and would say similar bullshit nobody asked about

62. seven characters you relate to?

oh god.........recognizing the self through the relatable characters :|

well let’s just talk about the wrol roles right off b/c the characters that Most occupy my gay thoughts (which is to say: my general thoughts) will inevitably get priority when it comes to Remembering things

1) whom among us doesn’t relate to jared kleinman........will roland emerging from relative obscurity and coming for our entire fucking lives like the goddamn legend he is. it’s tough b/c it’s like, oh well alana is relatable too, so is evan unfortunately sorry evan, and in ways i might ~usually act~ like one of those two more than jared but. no. it is Jared who wins the relatability contest, and we all get to be beautifully haunted by it forever

2) leaning hard into winston even with the few glimpses of him b/c somehow will Cannot play an allistic cishet. and this is even More of a case where maybe i don’t much have winston’s demeanor.......even without winston being a beacon of confidence, he has more confidence lmao. and he has that ability to just Be Himself in a situation which, i wish i had that moxie lmao. i am a lot more [usually trying to be accommodating wayyyy harder than i should], booo......even though he’s clearly not great at conflict considering how it doesn’t take Too much to put him out, it’d be pretty impossible for me to be all “called them hacks and lame” or carry out a very irritated monologue in front of four people in the first place lmao. but who knows. and it’s more in the details of like, oh no winston’s the odd one out even though he hasn’t really Done Anything, but we all ~understand~ why he Deserves it.........his expectation / treating it basically as Fact that he will disappoint people.......the [weird] [offputting] behaviors and his way of speaking in What he Says and How He Says It seeming wrong to people.......like it’s only 15-ish min of content that we have here and we don’t have the least info about will’s own thoughts on the character but it’s like. how is this such an iconic Gay Autistic Quant b/c these vibes are so rare. and i appreciate that he can be ~difficult~ lmao. same with jared though i didn’t mention it. i can be difficult!! love it for us...

3) briony atkins from murder of bindy mackenzie as a character who Does act more like how i Usually Act Like lmao.....god we’re only on three i forgot there was seven of these. and yet i know there’s probably at least 2 dozen characters who could make this list and i just won’t think of most of them unless directly reminded......but anyways yeah i mean in person i mostly do Not want attention unless i feel comfortable enough / in my element or whatever. especially if it’d be some situation like “sitting in a group of randos” lol. i mean it depends b/c i also can sometimes be ~on~ in terms of Masking and trying to be like Haha I’m Social I’m Regular and i def engage in Nervous Chatter sometimes, but like, very often it’s like god don’t talk to me and i don’t want to talk either.....and then yeah people Will be surprised that like, idk, i’m opinionated as shit and idk that i Enjoy Things / Have Thoughts And Feelings coz the assumption i guess is that you must simply have nothing to say. so the dismissal of this person who seemingly has nothing to contribute and must be Boring rings true lmfao.....but then of course it’s also important that her personality Under that is the one getting mistaken for emily’s lol cuz yeah At Heart i am sure of that dramatic / intense / excitable type Sometimes. but it takes some excavation before i am like “oh i can engage in my actual self” and like weeks and months to get comfortable w/ people and i’m always suspicious that anyone actually would enjoy it and i’m not too much......i am a motormouth actually and have something to say about any and everything and like to Have Fun Here but like. idk i come off as boring and can be Notably Quiet lmao

4) oscar martinez from the office is weirdly [Haha Same] sometimes lmfao. sort of keeps to himself but also has to pipe up with Opinions and Pedantry and the kind of Drama of a restrained theatre gay. some deleted scene from an episode where during an interview clip of Jimothy in a theater lobby and you have oscar call from across the group in that [wearied Ugh God] way of ‘jim, they’re remaking ___’ while jim just kind of gives a cursory “wow gosh” or whatever and like, i sure don’t have lots of Theatre Opinions but that “oh jeez i have a Take on this and have to share it with someone” vibe is like hahaha yeah.....it’s funny in the “the gang goes to the ice rink for a third of the ep” bit where you just catch oscar doing [ice skating turn] with some solemn intensity.......the “here’s a question nobody’s asking: is this worth it” quote.........way at the end where there’s a whole deal with one of the indoor plants and he’s like “why is it a He” @ the collective gendering of the houseplant lmfao.......i love the one thing where he and pam and uhh toby right? have the Finer Things book club or whatever and jim wants to join just like ~ironically~ and pam has to tell him that oscar doesn’t want him to join b/c he’s not going to take it seriously and use it as a Jokes Vehicle. and then you get the scene at the end where jim Is basically doing that and they’re just like taking it out of him and oscar’s all very seriously like “did you get it all out of your system” lmfao like yeah, earnest members only lmao.....the thing where he gets mad at angela’s like Jazz Musician Posed Babies posters all “it’s kitsch it Destroys art” lmaoooo and in a totally different season all “this is the problem with debate” over the completely inconsequential “is [whichever actress, i forget] Hot” “”””debate””””.......the whole tendency to get involved and always have a take to get across.....opinionated-sometimes-to-the-point-of-petty central. also that he’s the canon gay, are there even any others? anyways and as the us office’s spiritual successor i’ll add on to this by uh what’s the name of billy eichner’s character on parks and rec? it’s craig right. that Self-Powered Intensity is very #me as well.

5) augh god........im like lmfao shit who represents my Hater Club side. hmmm. oh no wait you know what. totally different but i love Prof Beatrice Hotchkiss in the trt nancy drew pc game. she’s holed up in her room writing all the time and just is weird when you try to talk to her all like no i won’t open the door, bring me food, do this Research, bring me my Ski Boots i guess......and then when you do meet her it’s all at like post-midnight in the lounge and she’s all like, encouraging you as a Night Owl and your investigative curiosity and all and i’m like oh word yeah being up in the dead of night is the shit. she’s just weird and passionate and this is another character i might not Act hardly at all like but who i vibe with lmfao. hotchkiss was the supportive adult in my life

6) remembering how hotchkiss is a historian made me think of academia which made me think of like, once again with “these vibes are So So Rare” i really ought to put the wrol role of Nato on the list cuz like. that essential representation of “gets gr8 grades but isn’t really ~academic~ / doesn’t care about that and really just cares about Hanging W Friends and [real specific interests]” is like wow damn that’s the Mood. coz like to an extent i can always Relate to the ~overachiever~ types a la the [nerd character gets all-A’s and other nerd shit] deal, but there’s eventually the issue of like.....those characters like bindy mackenzies and alana becks Care about their achievements (not exclusively as some ppl would have it 9_9) and are Studious whereas i always hated school and was a godawful student in terms of Habits and always got good grades b/c the devil was with me or something and like people will think i must have tried real hard and dedicated myself to Academics and stuff and it’s like.........no................not at all hardly, sure i did my hw every night but at like 11:29 pm or studied for a midterm at lunch right before the class lol or flipped through a lil bit of the sat study guide the night prior.........the “low-effort dumbass who Academically Excels Anyhow” representation is so crucial like!! i run into a wall when it’s the Good Grades nerd character who is real studious and focused and stuff like. couldn’t be me. meanwhile the “naturally weird + probably some ‘deliberate’ weirdness” and “likes animals” and “most likely to just wanna Roll With It” and “shitty focus lol” and “non sequiturs” and “without [activity] i do nothing” is all like....ahahahohoho..........nato rly got to make this list. and honorable mention for Wrol Jeremy. again: whom doesn’t relate!!!!!!!!

7) damnit i know there’s So many answers to [characters i relate to] and whom cover like, more particular Facets here but i’m struggling lmao. Uh. like i’m like, who’s the Hot Mess / continually evolving disaster characters i vibe with......who’s the peak despresso detached Haters rep......who embodies the solo production lifestyle........dammit you know what lol i tend to Feel for like, the background ~nobodies~ who might just get like totally destroyed in some movie with life or death stakes just to like, show how much danger our heroes / Important Complex Protags are. same w/ jeremy not feeling like the Hero / the one who the story’s about / the cool guy / player 1 / etc etc etc i’m like oo i’d be the npc who doesn’t really do anything, i’d be the rando getting blown away in the background of someone else’s story. on a totally different note another shoutout / honorable mention to wybie from the coraline lmfao one of the best characters invented from thin air for an adaptation......tangentially relevant b/c he’s entirely here to support the protag / not his story at all, just here to help and prompt interactions / exposition really.......but love that [weird loner kid who’s best friend is a cat and annoys the other kid and doesn’t Get it and has specific interests and entertains himself and just is doing weird shit around here tf dude lmao killing it] like, #mood. #lifestyle. less dismal to relate to than the bg person who dies......his counterpart who totally dies is somewhat fleshed out / given Investment so it doesnt Really count as [background Nobody who’s really just fodder for “defining the stakes / threat level”] Character Concept

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

latkes maybe......Yummy

#i expect to now just think of like ten dozen Other Characters who would've been great to mention #c'est la vie!!! c'est comme ca!!!! speaking of. thinking of the hc that winston jsut. drops french phrases into his speech sometimes #building on the moi....tbt ur benston fic w quelle horreur.....#nothingunrealistic1

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violetsystems · 4 years

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#personal

The biggest edition to my footwear collection is still the cat sleeping at my feet as I type this. She doesn’t use the other litter box at all which is understandable. That’s my default these days. Whether things are understandable or not. Or maybe whether I really deeply care or not. I was riding the train home during rush hour yesterday and somebody was playing trap out of a chik-fil-a backpack. I was done with everything at that point I just muttered “Fuck Chik-Fil-A” loud enough to hear. It didn’t help the dude’s backpack was in my face. His friend picked up on it and understandably I got off the train at the next stop. There’s been a lot of people following me around these days and making me feel unsafe. Unfortunately nobody will listen to me about it so I just end up understanding the situation. My understanding lately has been to keep myself safe by walking away from everything. Like somebody assaulting me and my mom on her birthday wasn’t enough evidence that I’m being targeted. That’s crazy talk to people out here. Are you sure you aren’t just imagining things? I ended up taking the Ashland bus home again which ironically is a far rougher neighborhood. I honestly don’t think anybody with a Chik-Fil-A bag is going to understand the finer nuances of why I’m offended. I honestly don’t want to have a conversation with that type of person. I don’t have time to be the steward and sheppard of the lost flock everywhere I go. And yet people have these societal expectations of me that never seem to deliver. They walk all over me without my consent and I just have to nod. I have existed within this hidden framework of rules for years bumping up against the fence over and over again. No matter what I do somebody seems to jump in and assume control over what I’m trying to do with my life. Like I never asked. Literally nobody gives me a chance to speak other than on Tumblr on the weekends. I’ve described the kinds of behavior I’ve been subjected to for years. For years people told other people behind my back that I was crazy, antisocial and worse. But they never understood until recently that I actually had a very dangerous point. This is traditional gaslighting and in America I think it’s the norm. I was reading how the American economy is literally financed by debt fueled by overconsumption whereas in China it’s fueled by debt driven investment. I have as many bills to pay as the next person. I spend a little time every day to manage a spreadsheet like a journal in regards to how much money I spend. I’ve done this for years by myself just like I’ve worked out my feelings in real time on the internet. There’s no shortage of people trying to get you to spend more money. It seems that people only value you in America based on how much money you are able to spend. I bought a pair of Gore-Tex converse for seventy dollars. They’re literally the illest shoe in context of people’s understanding of how I wear clothes. I don’t sit here and spend hours talking about the clothes I wear. Nobody cares. I’ve been invisible for years or worse. I’ve been a wink or an inside joke that people abuse to sell their products, images, and manifestos. When I make a valid point it is met with laughter behind my back and mined for intel and dirt in secret. Laughter and comedy in America is rooted is some deprecating humor. It makes sense when you tie this into bullying. People want you to feel bad about yourself for a lot of reasons. It’s mostly an act of devaluing your self esteem. That you aren’t enough. So you’ll spend more or try harder for people who wouldn’t do the same for you. It’s a pyramid scheme staring you in the face on a dollar bill. And then there’s the things that money can’t buy. That some people care about and other people just overlook time and time again. Self respect at the end of the day or the beginning of a new one is hard to come by. It’s understandable why I keep to myself in that respect.

I can’t change how shitty I’ve been treated. I live with years of it. I thought it might get better clearing it up in a journal. Writing about how I feel about this or that is about as close to a vibe check as any. And still people try to play these games with me in real life. The games prove nothing. It’s just an excuse to pit people against each other and tear down power. Like you are cordially invited to the wood chipper or meat grinder. Your opinion matters. Except when it doesn’t. After all these years feeling lost and alone is still my problem. I recently have come to embrace this. Who wouldn’t want to get lost and alone with me? There’s people I don’t want to be lost or alone with. Because I’ve been there facing myself in the mirror. We can talk for hours about all the good we are doing and there’s no record of any work or activity to show for it. When I was on Facebook I used to relentlessly post my miles I tracked in my running app. They’d go ignored for years. I’d check into the gym and it would echo in the digital staleness of the platform. Really nobody cared or understood what these things meant to me. The minute I would share something that inspired me I would be talked over or the conversation would shift to another person. I just basically defaulted to thinking nobody cared about me. I didn’t want to burden the world with how that made me feel. But I wrote about it here week after week. And I never lied when I sat down to sketch it out. It’s just that nobody really understood how bad everything had gotten for me. I have lived a literal fucking nightmare for the last two or three years. Ironically I quit drinking around the same time. That part was me understanding I wasn’t doing anything positive for myself with that habit. People asked in a hushed whisper online if I “got help.” I just fucking quit. Like I quit huge portions of my life that were complete bullshit. I’m constantly reminded how I don’t fit into those parts of my life when they return to haunt me. Ignore my pain for years and then suddenly show up again to try the same old socialite bullshit. We’re all in this together. Except when people alienated me for years. This isn’t something new or shocking for me. I understand other people are coming to the very same realization. People in America use the English language like a bulldozer. They talk emphatically with a concerned tone about how much they care. They never give you a chance to question why. They’re always doing the questioning. They always have the right answers tied to the right texts that nobody has ever really heard of. I get these emails about how my name was mentioned in this or that academic paper. I have to pay a fee to sign in to find out which. So literally I have to pay a fee to figure out who is plagiarizing and conceptualizing my life. Just like I bought all this street wear gear to be noticed and just ended up victimized and shunned. There’s a wall out there for sure you can’t pass. It’s a fence that has no logic other than rich people who don’t think you’ve paid enough to be human. And these are numbers that don’t really work well with a nonprofit salary. And yet I still do what I can with it and hold my ground. Because this shitty behavior is not sustainable. And the real vibe check is that I am done with everything and beyond anger and frustration. Sadly I’m the one with the answers to my problems. And the only answer I’ve found is staying away from the disrespect. That and saying what I feel whenever I feet like it. Because nobody cares anyway. They’ll applaud how brave I am then figure out a new way to poke me with a stick.

I’ve always thought the best I could be was being a good person. I’ve made a lot of sacrifices nobody understood to be that person. People distrusted me for years. I only recently began to realize that this was not my fault. I can’t possibly do anything else in my life to get people to trust me. People have dug down so far deep into my life it is insulting. If you bring it up to anyone the first thing they’ll do is doubt you. Typical stage one gaslighting. “How can you be sure?” in a concerned tone is really just “Why are you rocking the boat?” in America. I can be sure enough that most people out here don’t value the sacrifices I’ve made. They can’t fathom them because they don’t pay attention. They say they know me behind my back. How that one time they saw me out of context. People for the record haven’t hung out with me for months if not years. I used to play magic down the street and then people got cocky. Now I play Hearthstone online and developers still get cocky but it’s far different. There’s an actual community there with complex thoughts on everything. Some of them I agree with. Other things like Hong Kong I feel are none of my fucking business at this point. I don’t think anybody cares about the nuances of how unhappy I am with politics these days. I keep out of discussions now because they go nowhere. Americans want you to say things out loud so they can put you on record. Somewhere they can either use your opinion to sell a product or a service. Maybe even a patriotic ideology. I write enough reviews on Amazon to know the functionality of that. Somebody asked the other day if an acrylic paint I reviewed could be used on silk fans. I answered the question as non-biased and informative as I could for a white guy and moved on. For a person who drinks as much coffee as I am nobody understands that I have a subscription. I spent seventy dollars a month for a month’s supply of single origin coffee. Meanwhile people at work are always trying to sell me on something else. How my coffee habits are meaningless unless I spend money into this or that pool. How Blizzard is evil and doesn’t deserve my support. How I need to convince people my view on Hong Kong is correct when they’ve never even been there. There’s times when my opinion is valued and I share it. And then there’s times when people don’t listen to a word I say. They have absolutely no understanding of why I live and breathe let alone choose to support. They show no care. They simply target, bully and neutralize. If they fail they deal with the awkwardness of their assault by pretending I don’t exist. That’s the real wall. How you will never be good enough in some people’s eyes. Because you might just realize your value and leave all together. Take your money, your care, and your attention elsewhere. Maybe even to another country where the debt is driven by investment instead of hyper conspicuous consumption. Really after all these years of suffering in America I feel like I have no value to this country. I’ve been raked under the coals so much and scrutinized for no reason. If people really were watching and paying attention they’d know how much hurt I’ve been through. I’ve stayed accountable for my actions so I could live in a space where I could love myself. Which makes it highly understandable why I keep to myself and stay out of the public eye these days. It is not safe for me and has not been for a very long time. You can only be brave for so long until somebody finds a way to make you a martyr. In that respect I’ve carried enough crosses to know you’ll never cross that line with me. Especially if you eat at Chik-Fil-A in 2019. Eat a real fucking chicken sandwich you dumb fuck. <3 Tim

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scripttorture · 5 years

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I perused your solitary tag but didn't get the answers I needed so sorry in advance if this is something you've answered or way too long and specific! Thanks so much for doing this! So I have an MC who was kept in solitary for about 10-11 months when she was seventeen after her father was executed for treason and she tried to complete his goal. She failed but has a plan for how to kill the person who executed him. She is kept on a regular schedule, given any art materials and books she wants 1/?

2/2 and allowed to see her mother for an hour for one hour everyday. She knows her isolation will end in a year, knows shell probably be executed, and she has a cause like you mentioned being important. Immediately following her lock up she was thrust into a variety of stressful but social situations but about two and a half years later it's slowing down. She lives with her gf, but is far away from her mother and not close with many of her friends. What long type of term effects would she have?

Iknow this is no one’s favourite answer but- it really is hugelyindividual and impossible to accurately predict.

Fromthe details you’ve given me I get the impression you’ve thoughtabout this scenario and this character a lot. That’s will help youdecide on the symptoms you want her to have. But those symptoms areyour decision.

Ican tell you what the common symptoms are. What I can’t do ispredict symptoms, no one can. I also can’t tell you definitelywhich symptoms will be the ‘best’ pick for your story. You knowthe story and the character far better then I do. That means you’rebest places to judge what adds to the story and what doesn’t.

Ithink it would be best to start by picking the character’s symptomsand go from there.

Mostpapers put either depression or anxiety (or both) as the most commonmental illnesses solitary confinement causes. From what I can tellpolitical prisoners also report these conditions very frequently.However I get the impression (anecdotal rather than based onstatistical analysis) that political prisoners are less likely toself harm or attempt suicide then the average solitary prisoner.

Difficultyinteracting with people is probablymore common in younger solitary survivors. The brain is still growingand we arestill learning social interaction throughout our teenage years. Sonot being able to interact with others during that time is reallydamaging to someone’s social development.

I’msaying ‘probably’ because I don’t have good statisticalanalysis focused solely on teenagers in solitary.

But-well based on what I do know about normal social development andbrain growth, I think it’s highly likely she’d struggle withsocial interaction. That doesn’t necessarily mean that she’d beanxious around people, although that would be a common way for thisto show up. It’s often a…. feeling of isolation, disconnectionfrom others and being unable to engage in ways that are seen associally acceptable.

Itcould mean social interaction is draining or often unrewarding. Itcould mean ‘always’ doing or saying the ‘wrong’ thing ineveryday situations. It could mean a feeling of constant pressurearound others and misinterpreting their social responses.

Ithink irrational impulses and mood swings can be really narrativelyuseful symptoms. They fit well in a lot of different kinds of plotsand they can easily be used to make life more difficult forcharacters in interesting ways.

Psychosisand hallucinations are rarer symptoms generally. They also mightbe less likely if cell conditions are better (theevidence is unclear on this point).Which sounds like it’s the case for your character.

Thisalso seems to apply to some of the physical symptoms, particularlyeye problems. Insomnia and lethargy seem to show up however ‘good’cell conditions are. And I’d suggest considering the other physicalsymptoms for the period the character is confined.

Thetime frames you have don’t seem unreasonable to me. Neither do thegeneral conditions.

Themain thing that’s standing out is the set up after she’sreleased. Being suddenly thrown into intense social situations wouldbe incredibly stressful. For some people just out of solitary itmight be impossible to deal with and trigger an obvious breakdown.

Nowthat doesn’t seem like a fit for your story and there are otherpossibilities.

Theone that’s coming to mind is- Sometimes people with mentalillnesses can… for want of a better term ‘push through it’ fora short time. This is incredibly unhealthy. It’s a little likeignoring a fracture in the foot to keep walking. It can be done butit makes the problem worse.

I’m-not entirely sure how to describe this which is somewhat hampering myability to explain it. I’m thinking of things like- the number ofpeople I knew with severe depression and suicidal ideation whocompleted competitive, high-pressure degrees, without medication orprofessional help.

Itis possible, sometimes, for people to just… keep going, ignoretheir mental health problems and try to ‘act normal’. If they’revery good at what they’redoing then there may not even be a noticeable drop in performance,whether it’s academic or social. People do this, it happens. It’snot unrealistic.

But-this is incredibly badfor someone. Having a character with severe mental health problemstry to bottle them away or hide them or power through them- it isn’ta bad thing to write. Just be aware that if that’s the route youwant to take it will be damaging for the character. She’ll bepushing herself too far too fast and sooner or later she willcollapse.

Fora lot of the people I knew that happened at the end of their degree.If your character knows roughly how long she’ll have to keep upthis mad social schedule then- it is possiblethat she could keep going right until the end.

Ifyour character is doing something like that over several years then Ithink she’d need some kind of outlet and the ability to retreatfrom social situations at least some times.

Thisdoesn’t have to be dramatic or seem strange in the setting. It canbe things like- establishing a daily routine that involves getting upearly and walking alone in the woods for an hour before having to doanything or taking time to herself at night after her obligations areover. Little things like this and small outlets for unpleasantemotions can keep someone with a mental health problem alive in astressful situation.

Oncethese social obligations are over- Honestly I think it sounds likelythat someone in this situation would have an obvious breakdown. Thatsort of bottling, avoiding behaviour often ends up… bringing thingsto a point when all the problems seem to explode at once.

Essentiallysurvivors need to make adjustments in order to live their lives.They’re generally not able to just pick everything up again asnormal. Their limits, physical, mental and emotional are oftendifferent. (It’s also pretty normal for survivors and people withmental health problems generally to blame themselves to a degree fortheir limits changing. To feel bad about no longer being able to do aparticular things, as if it’s somehow their fault.)

Yourcharacter could put off those adjustments and live in denial for awhile. A lot of people with mental health problems do. But shecouldn’t put off those adjustments forever.

Thissort of scenario would probably end up putting a lot of pressure onher girlfriend to act as a carer. Whether her girlfriend is willingto or not that’s a lot of work. It’s difficult to do alone. @scripttraumasurvivors has posts on characters helping traumasurvivors in a non-professional context, take a look through theirtag because I think you’d find them helpful.

Ifyou don’t want thecharacter to be bottling everything up and powering through likethis- Then you’d have a healthier, better adjusted character at theend of the two and a half years. You’d also need a world that’smore supportive of mental health problems.

Soa- non exhaustive list of things that I think this society would needto normalise would be things like- letting her drop out of socialengagements suddenly with no warning and no negative repercussions.Greater understanding of different peoples differing needs forpersonal space. Physical adjustments to spaces to make them moreaccessible. Social acceptance of expressing negative emotions andemotional pain. Open, honest discussion of mental health.

Alot of this would be possible in a culture that’s in roughly thesame place the West is now about mental health- if the character’smother was managing this sort of thing for her. Making sure she’sdoing OK, encouraging her to stop if she isn’t. Insisting on anyadjustments or consideration she needs. Standing up for her.

Thatkind of role for her mother would require a very close relationshipbetween the characters. The daughter would need to feel that shecould tell her mother anything and share details about her mentalhealth.

Thecommon symptoms are here. But what those look like in the longterm for your character are really dependant on the story, thecharacter, her relationships with the people close to her and theworld.

Givenher age and the time she’s confined this character would probablyhave mental health problems for the rest of her life. That doesn’tmean she’d never learn to manage her symptoms. Part of that isusually a process of trial and error, trying to find out what helps.Sometimes the only answer is waiting until the mood passes.

Takea look at the Masterpost and have a look at the sources I link tothere. I think reading what people who’ve come out of solitary sayabout the experience will help you feel more confident about handlingthis. Shalev’s Sourcebook on Solitary Confinement and SolitaryWatch will be particularly useful to you, I think.

Thereisn’t a formula. There isn’t a standard set of symptoms or waypeople heal. Which means that we should be working it out anew foreach character, making the process feel unique to each individual.

Ihope that helps. :)

Availableon Wordpress.

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#tw torture #tw self harm #tw suicide #solitary confinement #effects of solitary confinement #writing victims #writing advice #mental health #depression #social isolation #Anonymous

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chiara13 · 5 years

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13 Reasons Why/Friday Night Lights crossover headcanons

@bitterbluesargent Natalie, this is for you aka (probably) the only other person who loves both FNL and 13RW and thinks a crossover would be a great idea. If I had time, I’d write a 90k crossover fanfic. I don’t, but I wanted to at least do this. Thank you for the wonderful conversations, for your enthusiasm and for your support. You’re part of my “reasons why” 2018 was awesome. ♥

I hope it brightens up your day at least a little. ♥

Tami and Eric move to California to be closer to Matt and Julie, who now live in the Bay Area.

Tami has been doing a brilliant job in Texas, but she misses spending more time helping and mentoring kids. She knows she’s making a big difference, but it’s just not the same. She accepts the school counselor position at Liberty High on the condition that Eric is hired as the school’s football coach. They miss working together.

For the first few weeks, he complains to Tami non-stop that California football is not the same as Texas football. (But he’s secretly glad he’s coaching high school football again because he missed it.)

He can see that the team has potential, but it’s going to take a lot of work to make it good. At first, the players resist him. They don’t think all that training is worth it. After all, aren’t they just going to lose almost every game as usual?

Zach’s the first to trust coach Taylor. Maybe it’s because he’s feeling lost after quitting baseball and losing coach Rick as a mentor/father figure, maybe he can see something in coach Taylor, maybe he just likes to train hard because it’s how he avoids dealing with his feelings. He gives Eric 110% during practice and, soon, other players start following his example.

Gracie Bell is in middle school with May. They share a few classes and become friends. Zach thinks it’s weird that his little sister’s best friend is his coach’s daughter. But he hears them laughing together all the time and sees how happy May is, so he doesn’t mind. He even offers to take them to the cinema and to the ice cream place.

In coach Taylor, Zach finds a new mentor and someone to look up to. However, it takes longer for Eric to gain his trust when it comes to personal matters. It’s a few weeks after the Spring Fling dance that things change. It’s late. Eric’s been watching game tapes in his office. He checks the field before leaving and finds Zach still training. He can tell something’s wrong. He talks to him in classic Eric Taylor style, while passing the football back and forth. Slowly, Zach starts opening up to him. Only a little at first, but more and more as - over the last few weeks of school - Eric proves to him that he can be trusted.

Meanwhile, Tami sits down with Justin to talk about academic goals and ways for him to graduate with his class. He will be able to make up some of what he missed in summer school, and he will have to work hard next year. Clay offers to tutor him. He makes it sound like he feels obligated to help since “Justin is technically his brother now.” But, actually, he’s been thinking about start tutoring again and starting with Justin feels right.

Tami meets with Justin weekly. At first, it’s just about school work and grades. Slowly, she gains his trust and he starts opening up to her. She helps him make a new plan for the near and long-term future now that his family situation is infinitely better.

She also talks with Clay about which colleges he should apply to, as well as helping him deal with what happened at the dance.

One day, during lunch, she finds Jess sitting in an empty classroom by herself. Jess has been crying. Tami offers support and says she’s a good listener. Jess doesn’t want to trust her because school counselors don’t/can’t help anyway in her experience, but Tami says just the right thing and Jess tells her everything. Hannah, Bryce, the tapes, Alex, Justin, the dance. Tami listens, then hugs her and talks with her until Jess feels better.

Over the following weeks, Jess keeps coming up with excuses to stop by Tami’s office. Then, at some point, she drops the excuses and just shows up, usually after school, sometimes with hot chocolate. They talk about Jess’s life, and Tami’s as well. Jess loves to hear about Tami’s daughters and about Tyra.

Before school ends, Jess talks Chloe into confiding in Tami. Chloe still hasn’t told anyone else about the pregnancy and Jess feels like they need to get an adult involved. She promises Chloe she can trust Tami. Of course, Tami is all kinds of wonderful and helps Chloe deal with it emotionally. She and Jess are there to hold her hand when she tells her mother.

Alex. Well, Alex is not in a good place after finding out Jess cheated on him with Justin. He’s angry and talks back to his teachers. Bolan decides to let someone else deal with him, so Alex is sent to Tami’s office for a chat.

He’s a challenge, but Tami has dealt with worse. The first few meetings don’t go very well, but then she finally makes him understand that he’s only hurting himself with his attitude.

Tami and Eric team up to stop the bullying. Tami quickly becomes the person the students can turn to if they have a problem. Eric takes care of his players, offering support to the ones who need it, and punishing the bullies when they step out of line.

During the summer, Eric holds voluntary practices. He wants to build a better team, sure, but more than that he wants to give those kids a place to go and an outlet for the feelings over the summer months. Most players show up.

Meanwhile, Tami keeps meeting with Jess and Chloe, usually at Monet’s. She also keeps an eye on Justin and Alex in summer school and checks in on both of them regularly.

When school is back and the football season starts, Eric talks Tami into having a party at their house for the whole team. It’s a disaster, of course. She keeps reminding him for months.

They win their first game, lose their second one, and then start winning consistently. They crush Bryce’s team. Twice. They qualify for the play-offs and get as far as the semi-final round. Eric is so proud of them and gives them the most encouraging speech when they’re defeated.

Meanwhile, he keeps mentoring Zach. He helps him and Justin deal with college recruiters. He knows how it works very well, and he doesn’t let recruiters blind Zach and Justin with empty promises.

Tami promotes a different culture: of helping each other rather than putting each other down. Sometimes she wins, sometimes she loses. What matters, is that the school is much better since she arrived.

They all get their happy ending. (Except Bryce.)

#13 reasons why #13rw #headcanon #13 reasons why headcanon #fnl #friday night lights #tami taylor #eric taylor #gracie bell taylor #zach dempsey #may dempsey #alex standall #clay jensen #justin foley #jessica davis #chloe rice #natalie

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redorblue · 6 years

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On Beauty, by Zadie Smith

This was the second book by Zadie Smith that I read, and if it wasn't official that I love her already, it definitely is now. It takes me a while to get into her books because the pacing is very deliberate and in order to appreciate her genius, you first have to get to know the characters, but once it happens it doesn't really let me go again, even when I've made an effort to put it aside for a moment. The first one I read was Swing Time, and On Beauty is very different in terms of setting and topics, so it's hard to imagine that she'd have such a good eye, so much understanding for two (three) entirely different contexts, but she does.

The main topic in On Beauty is love/attraction, mainly of the romantic and/or sexual kind, but some of the POVs also talk about belonging and identity. The story is told mostly from the perspective of one family: Kiki, an African-American nurse; Howard, her white British husband who works as an art history professor at a New England college; their elder son Jerome, who shocks his family in the beginning of the novel by becoming religious; his sister Zora, a college sophomore and workaholic; and Levi, the youngest in the family and very much at odds with his family's suburbanness. There are some other characters who get a chapter every once in a while, but it's clear that these five and their relationships and struggles with each other are the main focus of the book.

I didn't like all the characters, and especially with Howard I grew ever more disgusted the further the plot progressed, but what I appreciated a lot about this book was that I understood each character’s motivations, even though I didn't like them sometimes. In my opinion that’s a sign of a really good writer: if they're able to make sense of their characters' actions, despicable as they may be, without trying to guilt-trip you into feeling sorry for them. Explaining, but not justifying. Like in this case: before the book even starts, Howard has cheated on Kiki with one of their friends (who, incidentally, is the exact opposite of Kiki physically), and during the course of the novel, he does it again repeatedly, this time with a beautiful young student of his who is not only the daughter of his archenemy, but also obviously disturbed after the sudden death of her mother. Granted, it happens on her initiative, but he's fantasized about her before, and how hard is it to just keep it in your pants really. I personally think that Howard is a terrible human being, and I'm pretty sure that the author, personally, thinks that too, but it's still made clear why he does it because „he's a terrible human being" doesn't really cut it when you write literature.

Essentially, Howard cheats because he's unhappy with his bourgeois, stable, normal life. He's from a working class British family, a fact that he's never really made his peace with, so everything he does is, at least subconsciously, partly due to his rejection of his origins and the expectations with regard to lifestyle, profession and romantic interests that come with it. His choosing art history as his field (but then engaging with art in a very pragmatic and, one might say, unintellectual way), his moving to the US, his marrying a black non-academic woman… I'm not saying that he doesn't love his wife or his job, just that the pattern goes back a very long time. In that vein, it makes sense that he has an affair with his colleague and, even worse, with his student once he gets too comfortable in his academic bubble, once he feels trapped by what other people expect his life to be like, once it gets normal and boring. Basically he has a classic midlife crisis, and he compensates for it by having sex with the two women that remind him the least of his wife and their family. And as morally questionable as that may be, it makes sense.

But enough about Howard - I've talked so much about him and I don't even like him. I like Kiki, and I have to say that I found it very satisfying when she moved out of the house and let him deal the household and their kids for a change. In her case, too, that decision made sense for her character, but in contrast to Howard it was a point that she first had to reach. In general, Kiki is an independent-minded woman who has a very healthy sense of herself and her body (she's plus-sized) and enough self-confidence to make herself at home in circles where she's often the only black and non-academic person (and married to a white academic who's not exactly good at guessing what other people might feel like). That's why I was a bit confused that she was on her way to forgiving Howard when she first learned about his infidelity.But thinking about it, it does make sense.

First of all, she mentions several times that she basically gave up everything for this life with Howard, that her marriage and her family are her life. We don’t see her spend that much time with people outside her family circle, with the exception of Carlene, and there it’s made clear that building a friendship is an unusual experience for Kiki. So it would make sense for her to try and repair her marriage, simply because there’s not much else in her life (at least in the beginning of the book, in the epilogue things seem to have changed - yay Kiki). Secondly, and here’s where the guessing starts, I think her background has something to do with it. If I remember correctly, she never mentions her father, as opposed to her mother, so I suspect that her father wasn’t present for much of her childhood, as was probably the case for many of her childhood friends, since she’s not from a wealthy family and poverty and racism tend to screw families up. Kiki definitely turned out well, but she probably knows how hard it is to be a single mom, or a kid without a father, and she doesn’t want that for her family or for herself. So she tries to fix it, or rather just go with the flow - not pretending as if nothing ever happened, but trying to be okay with her new situation and the gap between her and her husband that his cheating has opened up. Until he cheats again (and picks the worst possible partner for it). In that instance, she doesn’t see much of a point in trying to make it okay again because in spite of her efforts, nothing has changed for the better in her marriage, and with this repeated betrayal she doesn’t think that it ever will. So she walks out - and no, I absolutely did not whoop even a little bit when I read that.

Besides the whole love/marriage/sex group of themes that Kiki’s story deals with, it also touches a bit on belonging and identity. This is also the main topic in her son Levi’s story. Levi is still in highschool and obviously confused about who he his and where he belongs. He lives in a very safe, wealthy, white suburb, but he’s also a mixed-race (read: black) young man, and especially in such an environment that is not the easiest thing to be. He has this romanticized vision of blackness - not that he thinks that being a poor young black man is awesome, but he likes the sense of belonging he gets when he hangs with some Caribbean street vendors, and he definitely romanticizes the bond between black people. He also thinks this way of life is more authentic for people like him than what his family does - being in academia, recruiting their social circle among their white neighbors and coworkers etc. He does his best to fit in with his chosen circle, but the tragedy of his story is that as much as he would like to pretend that they all basically share the same background, the same experiences, it’s just not true. He slips up in the little things - like when one of his friends tells him about some people who work in the college and Levi automatically asks which department they’re in, not thinking that they might not do academic jobs. He makes a very good ally - he’s a heartbreakingly compassionate person, to the point of naiveté (but he’s still young, so that’s okay) - but as much as he would like to pretend otherwise, he just didn’t grow up in a poor family who lives in a poor inner-city neighborhood. His desire to belong and to right some of the wrongs that his friends always tell him about even makes him commit a crime in the end - and the only thing that keeps him out of trouble is his wealthy academic family. He doesn’t get the (kind of) happy ending that Kiki gets, because Kiki’s problem has a hard, but feasible solution - walking out - while Levi’s does not, he’ll just have to learn to be okay with being neither white nor black (= what he thinks being black is about).

Generally, although the tone keeps being quite light and relaxed until the last page, On Beauty isn’t exactly an optimistic book. Some of the romantic problems are resolved, which is how Kiki, Jerome, and even Howard (maybe) get their more-or-less-happy endings. But those concerning class, race, and the intersections of the two, like Levi or Carl or also Zora, end on a much less positive note because in the end these things are out of your control as an individual person. Which is not to say that I didn’t like the ending, I do like it very much (and not just because I like sad endings). Especially Kiki’s ending as the pinnacle of her entire arc is beautiful and important because here is this fat, non-academic, black woman who is not a stereotype but instead portrayed as 1. a real person with feelings and thoughts and intelligence, and 2. beautiful and desirable. Off the top of my head I can name maybe one or two more example where something like that happens. But the ending is certainly bittersweet because it shows that while there are some things in your personal life that you can fix (or walk away from), there are also obstacles that you just can’t transcend - especially those that affect you on a societal level. And this may not be the moral that one wants to get out of a story, but it is - sadly - realistic.

#on beauty #zadie smith #book review #2018 #kiki belsey #books

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hippyjonny · 3 years

Text

The Face of the Devil

Hello,

I have been brought to the brink of a nervous breakdown. I contemplated very lightly and romantically the concept of suicide. My situation is unique in that I live in Japan and the woman who bullied me is the only other English speaking employee at the school. To make matters worse, we were put into the same office, much like a pen. From the first day I worked she treated me like shit and condescended me. She told me to my face that Mr. Motoda, the man in charge of hiring me, did not do his job properly when he chose me because I was not qualified to do this job. From then on she constantly passive-aggressively badgered me. She would make it a point to say “Enjoy your mid-week weekend” about my day off on Wednesday (as I am part time) instead of just saying “See you later.” I confronted her about this and she made excuses that I can’t remember. She would talk to me non-stop when I was trying to study Japanese and narrate her Facebook feed out loud. I began to move to the library at the school for peace. After a while of this habit she told me, “You really like the library, huh?” Then when our contracts were being renewed and she kept prying Into whether or not I was being hired for the next year, I tried to keep my status anonymous as it was my business. I snuck to the vice principal to finalize the deal, but when I arrived back at the office she was waiting and told me she had heard I was renewing. I was sneaking around my own school to avoid her, but she still found a way to invade my space. The early years at our school presented us with terrible students due to the school being private and lacking high academic standards. It was more a pay-to-play situation. So, our senior students were some of the most inconsiderate kids I had encountered and anyone would feel frustrated trying to deal with them. Without thinking I plopped myself in the chair, sighed and offhandedly said, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” She told me that she would have to report what I said to the principal. I was preoccupied with my issues and barely heard her. I brushed her off and said something like, “Do what you gotta do,” not really understanding what the hell she was talking about. However, she actually went to the management and told them that I had said verbatim that I “don’t like teaching.” She would overpower me with her opinions without taking into consideration my own and eventually I stopped talking to her altogether. However, she would still engage me in conversation regardless if I was studying. Eventually I began listening to YouTube meditation videos before school to try and deal with the onslaught of the coming day with her. Once I didn’t have time at home to listen to my meditation video so I tried to do it at school. I had headphones on and I remember she approached me and I could see her mouth moving. I took my headphones out and she said something unimportant that I couldn’t remember if I tried. Then I put my headphones back in. We repeated this process—I kid you not— four times. Then I went to the roof and silently screamed. She once came into the office one morning and just started screaming at the top of her lungs. She was mad about what she perceived as sexual harassment from one of the students. It’s a complicated issue to explain, but I had discussed the issue at length with many Japanese women and they told me that my Western psychopathic coworker was overreacting and they all just laughed. My coworker would often cry, lose her temper or just be volatile in general at work. What Is most interesting about her is that her father was a counselor. She told me even about her experiences with psychopaths and how they were very scary in real life. She once told me that she “would make a great boss” and that all her coworkers at her old job “loved” her. She once asked me if I was confident in my lesson plans. I said I would always have doubts. When I asked her, “You?” She said without blinking an eye, “100%” She once told me to “say thank you” to a child. By the way, I am a 36 year old adult male. I had talked to her about her passive aggressive mentioning of my days off. We ended up exposing her self-righteous attitude that my offhanded comment about not liking English teaching was enough to make me unworthy of the duty in her eyes. I told her, “If you ask a taxi driver if this was their destiny, do you think they would all say yes? People have to make a living and can still do a good job doing it.” Despite trying to bring this difference of opinions out in the open, it didn’t change anything. Finally, I had had enough and while shaking I talked to one of the heads of the school, Mr. Ato. I did my best to explain 3 years of abuse and he finally said in English, “She’s—uh…mental.” For once in my 3 years, I felt validated. I asked the management to move me to a different office and they did. For a brief moment I experienced pure bliss. She didn’t visit me and we had nothing to do with each other. Then suddenly she came to me with a scheme. She told me she had heard some rumors that the English department was changing directions and that our jobs might disappear. According to her the principal had alluded to some changes and we needed to get with the program or face the consequences. I, a native simpleton, freaked out for a good 10 minutes and bought into it. Her plan of action was a unilaterally decided change of curriculum. She decided we were all taking a new direction as an English department even though she is not a boss, just an employee who teaches classes completely separate from me. Little did I know, this was her way of entangling me back into her sinister web once more. I agreed thinking that the best tactic was just to pretend to care and nod my head so that she would quickly leave the vicinity of my office. However, that was my grave mistake. From then on I became her slave. She gave me deadlines and new tasks as if she were a boss until the point where I had to confront her and make myself clear to her once more. “I am not your employee…Please keep all conversations work-related from here on out.” And she abided, but she simply changed the definition of “workplace conversations.” After more annoying updates about the direction of English education in Japan and her thought process into every detail of her papers, she finally came to me with a new emergency. This time, she had seen a memo in the morning online Teams bulletin board and saw that the OE of Oral English had been replaced with question marks. I literally never read a single memo, so of course I would not have seen this. She came to me saying that we were once again in danger of losing our jobs and we must act quickly. So she had called a meeting with the boss in order to confront Mr. Suginomori who she had dictated was the enemy of her plan. She saw the was ignoring her e-mails and had plans to squeeze us out of our positions. As a part-time worker, I don’t want to be involved in any of these discussions. If I am fired, I simply will find a new job, as people do. This was all extraneous information. Feeling frustrated, scared and mostly exhausted with her bullshit, I fell back on my age-old tactic of just agreeing with everything she said and then not following through. However, now I had inadvertently agreed to attend a meeting which was brought about to confront a Japanese English teacher. He is a good man, though a little old fashioned, and she had not once confirmed what was actually happening. She simply made up a situation in her head and then tried to manipulate me into getting what she wanted. I have played dumb for the entire 5 years of my employment to maintain the upper hand. She had no idea that I had requested that we be put in separate offices. She came to me and complained about it and I pretended to listen. Actually, once I came back from Summer vacation to find that my lunch box had gone missing. Something you must understand about Japanese society is that they do not steal. That is a 96% true statement. The nearly never steal and it would be an astronomical anomaly for someone in a private school of well-off students and teachers to want to steal a bento box that was made for a 6’ 3” Western man, probably too big to fit into their valise. However, when I asked my co-worker about it she told me, “Well, I don’t know, but someone probably got annoyed that it was taking up that space for so long. The Japanese people would find it rude.” Clearly she threw away my bento box out of spite or some bizarre personal code of ethics. Anyway, I began to feel the anxiety I used to feel when we shared an office together again. I would wake up sometimes and she was already on my mind, and if you know me at all, to have work on my mind after work is the last thing I would ever do. So, I knew that I would have to deal with her once more despite having already having a conversation with her about professional boundaries. In the previous discussion I told her that we should keep our communications “work-related” and that any other conversation should be avoided In order for us to make the best use of our time. She obeyed this for a bit and then eventually came to invade my space and boundaries once again. Her excuse for doing so was in a similar vein to her first attempt, the possible loss of our livelihood. So, for weeks I agonized over how I would word my NEXT conversation with her. I wrote 5 or 6 drafts of many different letters. Some of the first ones were similar to this except more spiteful, delineating every single thing that happened and my psychology behind pretending that I cared about the things she cared about. I thought that the pivot on which our problem teetered was the fact that she could not respect the fact that I don’t invest myself into the work as much as she believed I should, but that that was just an opinion and nothing more. Other drafts were evil hate letters. Finally, I came up with a professional solution which stated that I felt stressed being told I was going to lose my job every month and it was making it difficult to do my work. I told her that I wanted to reiterate my previous statement by redefining what I meant by “work-related conversation.” This definition did not included unfounded gossip and our discussions did not need to take an entire hour because they could easily be completed in ten minutes. Her reply was that I was sending her “mixed messages” because I had stated I was interested in being included in decisions about the English department. However, she had created an entire curriculum and began to implement it without gaining anyone’s consent. This is a clear difference from what tense she decided to use for the verb in question 4 on worksheet number 11. I snapped. I knew the whole time that if I lose my cool, I would lose everything, but I am only a man and I have my limits. This exceeded my limit. So, I told her everything I’m telling you now and more. So, now it was all in the open. When I talked to the management, they listened to me go on for 20 minutes and all they said was, “We sympathize. Can you put it in writing? Try and relax for your summer vacation and come back refreshed.” They didn’t give a rats ass what happened to me. Now I had not only made myself exposed to my psychopathic coworker, but I had also made myself appear to fit the stereotype of the emotionally unhinged and sloppy Westerner. My ass was flapping in the breeze and I had no energy left. I dejectedly sulked around the school asking literally 4 different people who needed to stamp my fucking vacation paper to get it approved with all conflicting answers on what was already the most humiliating day of my life. My soul left my body. I went to the roof and looked past a locked fence. I imagined climbing over it, looking down at the concrete from the fourth floor, and what it might feel like to plummet to a beautiful, emancipatory smack. I had psychologically and physically come to realize why so many people in Japan come to commit suicide. All channels had been tapped and there was absolutely no support system in place. As soon as you are not harmonious for even a second you are the instant pariah. You are collectively repulsed and flaked like a dead skin cell, because to the Japanese, a show of emotion is nearly sickening. It disgusts them and only proves your weakness. After all this time trying to keep my cool, I had lost. Now I am still in the thick of this situation. I don’t know whether I will quit, how my coworker has reacted to my second confrontation, and whether the school will simply fire both of us now for being troublesome, emotional foreigners. However, I have finally learned what it was that was plaguing me and tormenting me. It was a psychopath in the flesh. I had a tendency to feel sorry for her on several occasions because she had nothing else in her life and was trying to create meaning through imaginary battles and enemies, much like Don Quixote. But I had already told myself multiple times that if I felt the urge to humanize her that I needed to clip it off deliberately because those were the times I was made vulnerable and she struck like a cobra. So when she came to my desk a final time before summer break to hand off some papers she made it was like staring the into the face of the devil herself. Her head creaked and as she twisted it slowly towards mine in my seat. I muttered, “Thank you.” Gnashing her teeth, she interrupted me as she always does and said with a grin that would make Nosferatu shit his pants, “I finally got around to making that phrasal verb worksheet. I hope you have a wonnnnnnnnnnderful summer.” Then she slithered out of the room as fast as she could. Not only do I see why Japanese crime basically is outbursts of uncontrolled rage and suicide, but I also have seen into the mind of a killer. I have pondered so many times if she is a sinister mastermind or the world’s most unaware imbecile, and therein lies the danger of a psychopath. Heed my tale and keep your senses sharp because you might be the next unsuspecting victim of their guiles. I have had a mental breakdown and am reconsidering continuing my work there. I am considering any remaining avenues of reform, but I am beginning to believe that my sanity is not worth the cost. I hope that my story can help another person who is struggling like me because I have never encountered anything like this in my life. We like to believe that God is real and that we can make the world fair and society is civilized, but at the end of the day it truly is a Darwinian free for all. I am no conservative, but I can’t fully deny the death penalty and despite the ridiculous amount of gun-related deaths in America and it’s lackadaisical regulations, one can’t help but wonder after staring a demon in the face whether or not it might not be a bad idea to pack some heat. Beware. There are soul suckers among our midst.

#psychopaths #workplace #work #satan #devil #demon #coworker #psychology

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secretgiftsforshaman · 4 years

Text

I wrote 2826 entire words before I collapsed last night

I have been seriously struggling this academic quarter. And I seriously struggled last academic quarter. As I did in undergrad, and in high school, junior high, and elementary. But I do not have any learning disabilities. And you have some idea of how smart I am in general, but I’ll share one specific example about just how very academically intelligent I am. On the SAT, I scored 700 in reading, 730 in writing, and 780 in math and I did not study for it. I spent most of the test bored and waiting for the allotted time to run out because I finished nearly every section way early. Early enough that at one point I had enough time to leisurely leave and use the restroom and came back before everyone else had finished. The only reason I did not score a perfect 800 in math because I missed *exactly* one question. I can still remember and visualize exactly which one it was – and only I missed it because it was the second to last one of the last math section and my brain read the word ‘diameter’ and was tired enough that my brain went ‘oh cool, radius’ even though I could have easily solved that problem when I was 11 or 12 (if you haven’t already gone “wow, she’s got some serious perfectionism issues” then now would be a good time for you to do so).

All of this to say: it has never been a question of not being able to understand the content. Very, very rarely in my entire scholastic lifetime have I ever not understood what was being taught to me. It is – and always has been – a matter of not being able to sit down and do the work.

One of the rubs of being so smart (especially when also socially inept – I don’t think I’ve ever had a formal diagnosis, but I would be astonished to learn if I wasn’t somewhere on the autism spectrum) is that your sense of self-worth is all too easily conflated with your intelligence and academic performance, placing massive pressure on yourself to be good at school, ‘cause that’s one of the few things I was reliably good at.

Most of my school-age bullies, particularly the loudest ones, were just as smart as I was: all enrolled in the same accelerated classes, but they didn’t struggle the way I did, and they definitely saw it, and made sure I knew they did. They could all do their homework and turn things in on time, but I just couldn’t sit down and do even the simplest assignments sometimes – let alone the big projects and reports, not without crippling deadline pressure. My parents and teachers also tended to view the situation as if there was some kind of issue with me, too: that I was lazy/disorganized/not ‘applying myself’/needed discipline and punishment and then I’d be fine – alllll of that unhelpful bullshit.

Nobody thought that I wasn’t smart enough, though. Clearly, I was always great on tests: sit me down and ask me what I know and if there’s a definitive correct answer then odds are good that I knew what it was, so I excelled in math and science, and I took great comfort from knowing what I was doing and working familiar problems over and over. But having to go find sources for research and report on something or answer essay style questions – anything subjective or humanities-ish – was my kryptonite. I couldn’t ever say “this is enough information, this is complete and I’m done now” – once I started searching I’d drown in all of the information available and not be able to pull myself out with just enough to get the job done. I would become paralyzed simply by the thought of needing to sit down and do schoolwork, so I’d avoid it and distract myself with reading or anything else BUT schoolwork. And if I ever fell behind (which ALWAYS happened because that’s what happens when your avoidant coping is your default), then it was like pouring anti-napalm on everything: I’d be even more frozen and unable to function, like cold terrified acid licking through my veins. I have been a student most of my life – 21 and a half years to date – and the entire fucking time I’ve been limping along like this, always hoping at the start of each new term that This Time, somehow, I could Just Do It Already The Way I Should Be Able To, but over and over that optimism has crumbled to ashes in that undying flame of fear, paralysis, self-disgust, and despair.

I am able, now, to identify and name what I have suffered from my entire life, the condition that I was made to carry so much crippling SHAME for, that I learned to hide almost completely from all of my loved ones for over a decade so nobody would see that shame and decide to think less of me.

I have anxiety and complex PTSD.

Where one ends and the other begins isn’t worth the effort of trying to tease them apart. The DSM-5 is an imperfect tool and no diagnosis is a uniform monolith – anxiety, PTSD, depression, and every other name of every other illness is merely a professional shorthand for “all/most of these symptoms are present.” It makes much more sense to treat my anxiety and PTSD as a single condition. Moreover, I have a strong suspicion that my endocrine disorder, PCOS, was triggered by the chronic stress/elevated cortisol and insulin (because one of the most socially acceptable ways for our nervous systems to regulate and soothe themselves when under stress is with food), and if it isn’t completely just part of the same thing, then it’s LARGELY overlapping with the anxiety/PTSD (I know that my mother and grandmother suffered in a very similar way in school, and I know that the PCOS is tied to inherited/ancestral trauma, so it makes every kind of sense if the anxiety/PTSD that we all have is related as well).

I have had a generalized anxiety disorder diagnosis on my chart for years, and I’ve known, in my rational brain, that I’ve needed to get it under control to feel better and function in school (and to be honest, with almost all other professional/adulting things too). But thinking about what I need and actually DOING something about it are such utterly different things. It has only been in the past few weeks that I have been able to admit to myself that I need real, professional help to overcome this condition – and to ask for and start receiving that help. There is a big culture in my family, especially us women, about ignoring our own issues and focusing on helping other people first (I know I must have written to you about this before), so this has been a massive step for me.

For a while I’ve been struggling to stay on top of my classes, and have fallen behind in all four of them, and the feeling of being overwhelmed has only increased exponentially. I’ve wanted, desperately, to go to an emotional ER so many times the past month, so much so that I found myself wanting (and knowing on a deep level that my body needs) some kind of pharmaceutical support to get me through the fucking day and allow me to do some of the massive, teetering pile of backlogged work. Upon hearing about my experiences of paralysis and dysfunction, and scoring very high on the anxiety diagnosis questionnaire she used, my doc, who rarely reaches for her Rx pad off the bat, suggested putting me on Clonidine (non-addictive, originally developed for hypertension) especially after my double-checked at-home blood pressure reading was 154/80 (which is consistent with STAGE 2 HYPERTENSION in an otherwise healthy and young TWENTY-NINE YEAR OLD for fucks sake)(insert emojis denoting ABJECT PANIC here).

I am comforted by the fact that my doctor, who I’ve seen since I was a tweenager, has shifted in the past few years to specialize in treating addiction and substance dependency, so if there’s anybody who I can trust to medicate me without causing a chemical dependence it’s her (thank GODDESS). Dr. M agrees with my perspective that the meds are just a temporary measure to alleviate my symptoms enough to function, and that the true treatment is the therapy work that I’ve been trying to do for myself, but there’s only so much you can do all by your lonesome, no matter how many self-help books you read (and goodness knows I’ve read a TON).

So I also finally started seeing a therapist (!), and just admitting some of this out loud to another person has been so profoundly healing. Our second session was this past Wednesday, and I was able to start opening up and telling her that I think my anxiety traces back to ancestral trauma and how I feel called to use a bottom-up, somatic approach (hence my recent interest in shamanism, ritual, soul retrieval, transpersonal psychology, etc., which she’s totally accepting of; again, THANK GODDESS).

One of the many many many self-help books that I’ve had my nose in is “The Instinct to Heal: Curing Depression, Anxiety, and Stress Without Drugs and Without Talk Therapy” by David Servan-Schreiber, MD, PhD (which I started reading like a day before I finally admitted that I needed to take drugs and do talk therapy *laughing at myself emoji here*). Servan-Schreiber beautifully articulated the relationship between our neocortex: the newly, highly developed, outer portions of the brain where our logic, reason, cognition, and consciousness arise from, and our limbic system: the older, more primitive inner section of our brains that controls our unconscious, autonomic physiological processes (like breathing, digestion, heart rate, etc.), trauma, instinct, intuition, and emotion, and is therefore far more deeply and intensely connected to the body (and bodily held memories) than the neocortex.

I’ve been running around in my rational, conscious, neocortex mind *thinking* about all of my issues and traumas and everything for ages, and I understand so much about these things on that rational level – but that is miles away from the irrational, unconscious, limbic bodymind where all of those traumas actually ARE and continue to play out over and over as if they’re still happening. This is something that my therapist helped me understand – our neocortex understands that this is a different time and the thing that happened in the past is over and done and we’re safe now, but the limbic system has no sense of time. In our irrational reptile brains, everything still exists the same as it did all those years ago as if it never stopped happening. THIS is where our inner wounded child lives, where a soul fragment likely fled from for safety in the midst of the unendurable whatever-it-was that precipitated the trauma response, and where the empty spot is where it needs to be called back to still resides, open and waiting and longing.

THIS is why I’ve felt called towards the irrational, mystical, shamanic modes of healing: I’ve done as much as I can with my rational mind, which cannot be used to solve an irrational problem or heal an irrational wound, which is what all trauma is. A couple of weeks ago, when I asked you for your help as a shaman with conducting a soul retrieval, this is the kind of work that I was starting to realize that I need to do. The crazy Thing That I Did that I told you about (and meant to describe for you more at the time but I was exhausted and desperately needed the rest instead) was a small and beautiful spontaneous retrieval of a part of me when I was seven, a part that was thirteen, and a part of me as a young infant that I brought to my own breast in recognition that I was both deserving of my own love, nourishment, and care, and capable of being a loving, heart-centered parent to myself. I felt all of the past, younger versions of me that I’ve already been gathered in concentric circles within me, and all of the older versions of me that I’ve not yet been spiraling around me, and my ancestors and guides and spirits and all of the love and kindness that anyone has ever directed towards me gathered around all of me like a compassionate embrace, and I think that it was that experience that gave me just enough of my soul back, just enough juice and magic that I could start digging my teeth in and taking the steps I needed to take to seek treatment and get my legs back underneath me.

As amazing and beautiful as that experience was, it wasn’t everything that I need in order to heal. I want to do a soul retrieval/healing ritual to unfreeze the part of me (and the part of my mother, grandmother, and other ancestors) that is stuck in that root trauma – where the anxiety, complex PTSD, PCOS - where all of that junk stems from. I don’t yet have much sense at all what that’s gonna look like, but I know that it’s gonna be the biggest damn spell I’ve ever cast, and that I don’t think I can cast it alone. Watch this space.

I do think, though, that preparing for that is the thing to do for now, by accumulating small things on multiple fronts – growing my strength, calling back small parts of me, telling more and more loved ones about my truth, chipping away at the stack of things to do, continuing with meds and therapy, contacting my professors and possibly the department/program admin (with a letter from Dr. M in hand documenting my diagnosis and treatment) to let them know that I need help I’m figuring out how to make up for assignments that I haven’t turned in and make sure that I can continue next quarter and not get kicked out of the program. I’m still carrying a lot of fear of failure/expulsion around this (and anxiety = paralysis = inaction for me, even though I desperately want to fix it) – especially after handling myself so badly in a similar situation at the end of last quarter. When you’ve got a minute, I’d appreciate a pep talk about broaching the subject with them.

All in all, I’m doing well and things are looking up in a way I’ve NEEDED them to start looking up for literal decades. I’ve even been able to start telling my mother about how badly I’ve been doing (she knows I’ve seen my doctor and started therapy and meds) and allowing her to see that pain and struggle after years of hiding it from her out of shame has been scary but such a relief. But Goddess Knows I’ve got A LOT to do still. Just cause I’ve finally struck a match and can navigate a little better doesn’t mean I’m out of the dungeon yet.

I began the meds just yesterday, and I’ve spent the day decompressing (never been a better time for me to have a few days all to myself kitten-sitting for some friends while they go to a tiny, COVID-regulation compliant thanksgiving visit with their family in Portland). Drowsiness is a listed side effect of Clonidine, and I was really worried that my prescribed dose was too high after being soooooo tired yesterday and today after I took the pills, but my increasing suspicion is that I’ve just been so high-strung and hypervigilant (hello super premature hypertension!) that the anti-anxiety/BP-lowering drug just uncovered the chronic e x h a u s t I o n that was already (always) there, rather than them making me drowsy when I wasn’t. So I’ve spent the day eating my friend’s leftovers (she’s an AMAZING cook) and cat napping with the two sweetest little troublemakers you ever did see (I’ll send pics!).

I think that FINALLY being able to relax like this was what helped me to begin to be receptive and start opening up (and connecting with you!) again. Anxiety = I clam up, my libido nosedives, and my pelvic tightness/vaginal armoring gets painful and rigid – all bad prospects for wild, sexy, blooming Love-Lust-and-Light fun. I was so glad to reconnect with you – and that you reminded me that I need to get this out and I can process it and heal it by sharing it with you – that our Sacred Space is still there for me to use and pour my pain and magic and consciousness out into.

I think that’s all the most important developments. I’m excited to hear all about all of your new developments, processing, perspectives too.

And now I’m gonna go to bed. One nap today was NOT enough to recover from goddess-knows-how-long-I’ve-had-this chronic fatigue. I’ll talk to you soon

I love you, Άδης

Your Εκάτε <3

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