#(a claim with which I doubt is even actually a part of autism but i digress)

[snekdood]

i think being raised by smartphones, not facing consequences for bullying, and being shit at school has made a lot of gen z genuinely evil

[ratsandfashion]

re "some people like to present autism as having absolutely no downsides or difficulties" I still remember when on my RP blog I reblogged a post about autistic elopement, when autistic people will just...run away. And I talked in the tags about how I did this multiple times as a child, the cops had to be called, I actually got into a van with a stranger once when I did it as a teen (and luckily he was a nurse and a good guy and drove me to the nearest school so my mom could pick me up but JESUS it could have been bad) and deadass, with ALL THIS in the tags about my history with just having to uncontrollably take off and the danger that I was in, a mutual reblogged it and added her commentary that lots of people just want to leave a party early or whatever but when an autistic person does it it's pathologized and like... this is NOT leaving a party early. this is not ANYTHING CLOSE. and I'm not doubting her own claim to autism but this is clearly not a symptom she ever experienced. this is something that literally gets autistic children (and adults!) hurt and killed. This is part of WHY the average lifespan of an autistic person is like 30something (I forget exactly what), it's not because we all drop dead in our mid-30s but because this is one of the things that leads to increased childhood mortality and drags the average down. it's pretty fucking serious. Like I said, I could have had something SERIOUSLY BAD happen to me, and it was NOT within my control to stop myself from just taking off. One of our drills at the day center where I work is specifically for clients going AWOL. I just...I am so tired of autistic "activism" that wants to erase all my struggles---and the struggles of others, many of whom are higher support than me, which a lot of these folks just pretend don't exist---and act like autism is just being Cool and Quirky and Probably Better and any difficulty faced is just ableism and the result of neurotypical society not being accommodating. Like, yes, there's a lot of that, but even in the most accommodating neurodivergent-friendly world, I'd still have problems, and a lot of other folks would have a lot WORSE PROBLEMS and DO have a lot worse problems, I know, I support them for my job, and I just don't think it's helpful to us to insist we don't/wouldn't if not for those darn neurotypicals.

[rayinberkeley]

Coming Out as Neurodivergent

When you're gay, a thousand people will try to tell you that it's a phase, a choice, something you have to suppress, something they cannot condone, and a variety of other things that basically punishes you for what you couldn't turn off if you tried. Because it's something you didn't choose. You were born as you are. And you have every right to be enraged by their statements.

For a very long time I've felt a very similar way when people tried to tell me things like, "Beggars can't be choosers," and suggested I'm where I am because I don't make money. I knew that I could at least get them on board with the first thing, because many of them were either gay or understood that issue, but I knew also that they'd never understand it about my inability to hold down a job or responsibilities. I knew they'd think I was reaching. I knew they'd think I'm "just making excuses."

And yet I felt it nonetheless. A thing I couldn't say, but a thing I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt. I couldn't bring you into my mind so you could experience the tremendous meltdowns, the depressions, the complete disappearances and coming-to in a place without remembering how (sometimes even why) I escaped there. And people wouldn't have heard.

Then came my diagnoses: PTSD, major depressive disorder, and that one I still challenge called Avoidant Personality. Diagnosed with the most advanced testing available by doctors at a JFK University facility in Concord, California, successfully defended in a court in Oakland, winning my claim to SSI disability pay. Despite this, I still knew, I could never say this without someone thinking the same things.

Diving further in, however, coming to realize I most likely am autistic, I can actually defend this. Autism is another thing, like homosexuality, that I was born with, that I didn't choose, and that isn't a phase, a choice, something I should have to suppress (although my high-masking suggests on the surface I'm a damned master at it), it's not something for which you get to condone or deny, nor is it up for debate. Instinctively I knew, but if we test this, I'll know for a fact I can say this and can refuse anybody's challenging of it.

I do not have that diagnosis yet. I'm saying it ahead of time. That is how certain I am.

"The day I was formally diagnosed with autism," comedian, Hannah Gadsby, said in her Netflix special, Douglas, "was a very good day. Because it felt like I'd been handed the keys of the city of me. Because I was able to make sense of so many things that had only ever been confusing to me. Like why I can be so intelligent but struggle to leave any proof." (Pause for laughter, and it's okay, I find this funny too, and it TOOOOOTALLY applies to me!) "Why I can't feel informed. Why I felt such a profound sense of isolation my entire life despite trying so hard to be part of the team. And that is a big thing about being on the Spectrum. It is lonely. I find it very difficult to connect to others because my brain takes me to places where nobody else lives."

I've only ever felt like the proverbial "stranger in a strange land," like I didn't speak your language but if you hummed a few bars I could fake it, and faking it is all I was ever really able to do. Because I never really felt a member of your species. Growing up, everyone my age started getting interested in things I simply didn't, rode bikes while I never learned, played games that didn't interest me, couldn't wait to start dating while I stayed alone, learned to drive cars while my family didn't even think about teaching me, planned futures while I didn't even have any such notion of how I could even begin such a task, for college or jobs or such. I just floated, unguided, and with no notion of what I would need next.

Like I didn't get "the memo."

"To give you an idea of what it feels like to be on the Spectrum," she'd said a little earlier in that special, "basically it feels like being the only sober person in a room full of drunks, or the other way around. Basically everyone is operating on a wavelength you can't quite key into ... why didn't I get the memo? I never get the memo. I never do. I've always missed the memo."

I've said things exactly like this to therapists. Some of these almost word for word. Not a one ever even introduced the idea of autism. Not a one. But I do know what they introduced to me, and that was the possibility that I could work if I just wanted to, because in the end I think that's all they seemed to care about. I wasn't saying I didn't want to. I was trying to find out why I couldn't. And I didn't need pep talks.

And don't get me wrong, some people with autism do very good work, and some don't, and the one I'm quoting is a goddamned stand-up comedian who stands in front of an audience (I could NEVER) and entertains them with amazing skill. But it's not called the Autism Monolith. It's called a Spectrum.

I might have done just fine on a job if someone might've understood how to guide someone with autism like mine to doing so, but unguided isn't where I can function. Assuming I'll understand what I need to do isn't the way. Hell, the part time job I shined at, working in that metaphysical bookstore in Acworth, was because Wanda guided me in just a way that worked for me, while no other position ever did so.

And when she was gone, I could not continue it. Not for very long.

Nobody really understood what it was I needed, nor cared, nor owed it to me (save for my family who, also, didn't care). I couldn't count on that guidance to be beside me in the stable way I needed. I probably never will. And without a sense of safety and stability, you can forget me being able to do any damn thing, and that's what I've never really had. Or okay, FELT I had. I hadn't keyed into the wavelength that where I was was safe, even if I were in a place of safety, but I'm not entirely certain I ever was, because I always remember being proved that I really wasn't. And what I hate most is my self-doubt that I'd even really know this.

Without safety, with chaos or a sense chaos was coming, my ability to function crumbles, my mind panics, my entire self melts down, and all this happens while I'm masking the living SHIT out of my inner hell so I don't bother anybody with what's going on inside of me.

I can't turn that off any more than I could turn off that I prefer dick over vagina. I can't make that part of me vanish any more than I could go into shock therapy and turn myself into a breeder. I simply am gay, and I simply am autistic, and I simply have no idea how to function as a part of anybody's team.

This is me. This is my other coming out.

I'm here, I'm neurodivergent, get used to it.

If there's a flag for that, please let me know.

The difference is, I'd actually choose gay. It's pretty fucking awesome. I've seen the alternative, and eww. But I wouldn't have chosen autism. You have no idea the things I wanted to be, wanted to do, wanted to accomplish. The years and years of loneliness that I would've done anything (if only I could) just not to feel. I don't even get the superpowers of autism like Sheldon Cooper has, to solve massive equations and unravel the secrets of the universe. I just get the kryptonite parts: human interaction drains me, connection is impossible, I can't recognize red flags, I cannot keep promises or fulfill obligations, and I don't just go out and meet people without it being a terrifying endeavor.

And I'm just too tired, after decades of trying to fight this, to continue to do so. To paraphrase Will & Grace, I've heard the neurodivergent version of Jack tell my denial version of Will, "Aren't you tired yet?" And I am. So very tired. I can't do this cycle any more. I can't mask and entertain and make people laugh and then find myself baffled why they suddenly get angry when I don't just magically get better, find work, and sustain, or they accuse me of excuses, or just being lazy, or just......

I don't know. I don't understand your world. You all talk to each other in terms of, "What do you do?" and money troubles, and your house or your car or your business, and I'm sitting there trying to not tell you I'm still floating like I have since I was in fifth grade, no work, never really owned a car, will never have a house, scared I'll end up homeless at any moment, having no idea what to do, how to do it, how to hold it together as I try to do whatever it is I simply don't have a map for in the first place!

I didn't want to become this alone. And now it's practically the only thing I want IS to be alone. Because I need now to learn how to be this, figure out who the fuck I actually am without the mask, so I no longer feel the need to wear that damn mask. So that if and when I should choose to try to be with people again, it is by choice rather than desperation and need, and I can show you who I am, without committing those same failures of my past.

But also, because I'm hard for people to take in the few minutes they have to take me, but I need you to know, I take that part of me everywhere, and I find everyone always hard to take all the time. For me it's a 24/7 job to try to be one of you. I'm bad at showing the usual niceties that are expected amongst you, but also, I rarely feel them anyway. Step in my head. See if you feel like saying "thank you" and other formalities when you're in nonstop fear and uncertainty!

And as I already stated, professional tests defended in a court of law found that I can't sustain work. It is no wonder I melted down. What's a wonder is, how I kept going as long as I did.

[bokettochild]

small rant warning, very personal, I'm just processing

The actual heck? The heck? The heckity heck?

Okay, so I just read the Autistic Legend headcannons and...I'm.....confused? That's autistic behavior? I grew up with two autistic kids and a dad and sister who my mom defines as having 'aspergers', and I had no clue?

My mom claims to be able to identify autism and whatnot with ease after working with children for 30+ years, but I'm beginning to doubt it because more and more I have been running into information from autistic people themselves, and not doctors or neuro-typical folks, and...I'm....relating to it? And she's never said anything?

Like, the autistic Legend headcannons for instance.

Food. I don't eat well. I always thought it was because I have had mouth surgery twice, once so I could breath properly because apparently my tonsils were so big the doctors were surprised I could breath at all while lying down, and a second time to bore a hole through my jaw so a tooth would actually come down. Anyways, the second one was sort of recent, just a year ago, and since then eating has been trickier. I always was told I was super picky, although that might be true? I can't eat beans because the texture makes me sick, but cornmeal based things are something I just can't handle. There's other things, mostly just spicy foods or heavily seasoned things, but as of late, most breads and meats are on the list too. I mean, I can eat them, but making myself do so can range from just a bit of worry to straight up trying to force it while my throat closes.

Stims. The cracking knuckles and messing with hair hit me in the gut because I do that a lot! I pop my knuckles whenever I'm nervous or have nothing to do with myself, that or roll my neck. But if I have to sit still a long time and listen to something or read or get caught trying to focus, I've always had an issue with scratching. Like, my head, my hands. I used to make both bleed because while it didn't necessarily feel good, it was satisfying in a weird way and helped me handle school stress and stuff better.

Clothes. I grew up wearing different clothes each day but honestly choosing them is a chore and if I could I'd fall back to my go to flannel shirt, maybe a tank top, and a pair of pants. the flannel is big and comfy and warm, and makes me feel safe. It's sort of like a boyfriend's sweater? But minus the boyfriend. I bought the biggest men's size they had in store and while I'm not drowning in it, it makes me feel better because I can pretend or imagine I'm borrowing a loved one's clothes, which helps a lot when I'm feeling lonely and/or touch starved (aka most of the time). But yeah, could I get away with wearing stuff like this all the time I would? Just, I like looking nice, but this outfit doesn't bother my skin the way lots of other clothes do. Most clothes feel a bit restraining or heavy or too much or too tight or just wrong. Like, I look good, but someone's always got something to say, and at least with my flannel there's no question about stuff. I'm being lazy, I know it doesn't look nice, it doesn't matter how it fits because it's too big to tell what I look like beneath (for the most part, i'm still female), in fact it even makes me look smaller (my mom's always on us about looking fat and/or pregnant despite the fact we've all just got naturally wider set skeletons). I just- having a set of clothes that's your go to to avoid making choices of other clothes?

Honestly, I have no clue how much of this is actually ND stuff, I'm just referencing that headcannon list.

Does a hatred of socks and shoes count? Does hating have the blankets over your feet count? Does a hatred of gloves count? We live near the mountains, it gets freaking cold, but I don't like hand/foot cages, even if I know I need them because otherwise I could get really sick (that and my skin cracks and bleeds with humidity and harsh winds, never mind the cold)

Yelling. The yelling thing hit. I can't handle volume anyway, my hearing is shit. That said, I randomly just...need to huff? I exclaim when reading stuff, even if it's just me. I babble at characters and I huff and exclaim and shout and I thought it was just a reading thing but sometimes it happens when I'm thinking too? Or just...I need to make sounds?

And then there's the muttering. I think better aloud. I will walk circles and think out loud, and have done so. I wore a small circular track into the ground behind our barn because I would tell myself stories as a coping mechanism and just rant or chatter things out to myself. My mom fusses about it and tells me to stop because "it's disturbing and you know what our families mental health history looks like!" which yeah, her whole family are a bunch of wackadoos; like, yes they have mental illness, but they're also just, as she says, scary. Like, abusive, insane, and in one case, potentially possessed.

So I get it, but also, I'm just talking to myself? It helps me process. There aren't people who want to hear my ideas and I've been laughed at enough to know not to chatter around other people, so I talk to me, because while I may judge, I will always offer constructive criticism and if I laugh I'm laughing with myself. So yeah, I chatter at myself and I murmur under my breath and I read well if I'm doing so aloud.

And I hum. I need music. It's less of a thing outside the house, but when home, if I'm not doing something with another person that requires chatter, I need music. I can function without it, but it helps. I know it's mostly so I can filter the chatter and the noise of the house, because tuning into that 24/7 is painful for my poor brain since it never stops. My mom can come down any time of day or night and clatter outside my door in her schoolroom/office, and there's almost always something going on. Tuning into all current emotions, conversations, footsteps and whatnot is frustrating and music offers a break. But it also just....occupies the brain?

The gestures thing hit too. I know I'm supposed to motion and so I motion a lot. I talk a lot with my body, and my sisters have repeatedly pointed out my tendency to "pose". I pose all the time. I'm constantly aware of eyes and while I might not always be sitting pretty or whatever, I know exactly what my pose means at any given time and will adjust accordingly in order to...I don't know.... seem normal? Follow rules? I have no clue why I do it anymore, I just know I do it and I can't remember not doing so. They're not even crazy poses! I'm just good at controlling my body most times?

And then there's the explaining thing that was mentioned. I'm....not very smart. I write and I create but science is a pain to me, and while math can be a fun puzzle to solve, it is also not my strength. I'm also just not good with practical stuff. Politics is confusing, people are confusing, medical whatnot and finance and whatnot are confusing, and whenever anyone talks to me about anything outside of creative pursuits I feel like a blasted idiot and just want to cry because I have so much trouble understanding. And for this reason, whenever I talk about anything at all, I feel the need to over-explain everything because I have no clue how much anyone might or might not understand about what I'm saying, and I want them to understand and not be confused to tears like I get, but I also don't want to treat them like idiots. So I keep finding myself going "does that make sense?" "did you get that?" "did any of that makes sense or...?" and usually it's fine, because it's just a couple sisters who I can chatter to and most of the time they chatter a lot too about similar things, although without the confirmation and whatnot. Although to be fair, I tend to keep track of what people tell me about their interests if I see them a lot because my bully/elder sibling trained me to always be able to snap up whatever crumbs of her interests she'd drop so I could maintain a proper conversation about her interests without frustrating her with having to remind me what character, anime, episode, season and whatnot she was talking about, despite the fact she didn't want me to know too much and so I could never actually see certain things or know certain facts until I was deemed worthy or ready or she just couldn't keep it to herself any longer. I swear I learned to keep seven or more shows straight and regurgitate info on them at the drop of a hat!

But yeah. Things don't make sense and I don't grasp new stuff well unless it's people's personal interests, and I'm never sure my interests or thought processes make sense to others.

Also, apparently some of my characterizations of characters are ND coded? I've had people point out ADHD tendencies in Legend and... that's just stuff I do? Or stuff I feel he would do? Chatting and writing/drawing at the same time? Skipping to new thoughts and then trying not to double back only to realize people want to go back? That's actually never happened but I think I'd be surprised if it did, hence writing Legend as so.

And just..... things make sense? Posts about being ND are relatable? I am confused in a million ways.

I've been told all my life that my siblings were the ND kids. I was the normal one. I have built my whole sense of self off of being normal. I'm average height in a family of yeti's. I'm curvy but not too much so in a family where we go from "starves herself skinny" to "struggling to get back to a healthy weight for safeties sake". I was the brown haired brown eyed (they're green now? they were brown when I was a kid though?) quiet, behaved, responsible kid who watched babies for hours at age ten so other kids could play and parents could work on projects. I was the one counted on to be normal and responsible and not break down and cry. I was the good kid. I was the normal kid. And while I know being good and being neuro-typical are not dependent on each other (heaven knows so many NT people are asses) it's still odd to think....

Growing up, I knew the list:

Dad is autism spectrum

Mom is ADHD, OCD, Type A and has PTSD (and maybe more?)

Eldest sister is autism spectrum

Second elder sibling is ADHD, Bi-polar, ADD, OCD and a lot of other stuff my parents never looked into because they thought it was just a label and didn't realize they could get her help with it

Two siblings after me are both autistic. My brother is traditionally autistic, what most people think of (so says my mom), and my sister is more sensory seeking and with a bit of difficulty with socializing and understanding social cues and whatnot, but she's smart, pretty and funny so people don't even notice (I don't think).

The sister after them was my ally in normalicy, we were the "normal, good kids" as far as anyone was concerned.

The siblings after that are ADHD, have attachment issues (likely abandonment issues too, although that's me speaking and not a diagnosis) and my youngest sister has no much I don't even know half of it! She's got a missing chromosome, poor hearing, cognitive delays, speech delays, and is just generally not the normal seven year old , (which isn't bad; God made her just how she ought to be and we love her).

I love them all. I treasure them all. But in a family of twelve where nearly everyone had some sort of struggle with mental, physical, emotional or educational matters, I was the normal kid who handled stuff well and that was what made me stand out. That's what I relied on to remind myself that there was something different about me that made me worth people's time. I mean, we have to compete! There's only 24 hours in a day, two parents and ten kids, not to mention work, lesson planning and the fact we rarely see them much because they hold up in their room to work.

Being normal was my special. Being dependable was what made me matter. Being able to handle things made my parents smile and praise me and I won't lie, I lived for that because that's all I had going for me.

But then I crashed in senior year, I've floundered since, I stopped mattering because I was dependable because I could hardly depend on myself. I may not even be normal? I may not even be what I though made me matter and while I know there's nothing wrong with being ND and normal is really nothing more than a setting on a washing machine, it's still........confusing? Scary? So, so......something?

Words?!!??!?!?!?!!?

I keep getting kicked in the ass with the clues I might not be all I thought I was, and...yeah.

I'm not trying to devalue anyone, or say there's something wrong with being ND, I just....it's a process? I'm trying to process a potential reality that may have been the real one all along?

I'm wondering if my mom knows and decided to never tell me or admit it because leaving a 14 year old potentially ND kid in charge of seven special needs kids, ages 12 to 0, as well as a small farm, most of the housework and meal prep, and her own schooling is like...messed up? Like, does she realize?

There's stuff I keep hearing that I remember doing as a kid.

I didn't like social play, I liked organizing the toys. I rearranged the church nursery's baby doll beds, clothes and babies. Made sure to arrange everything perfectly, sort by clothing type and size and sort (I was like 11). I didn't "cook" with toy food. I made arrangements and then left them there because I didn't want to break them. I didn't always want adventures in games, I liked systems. I learned to play adventures, but I liked making patterns and arrangements and schedules and following them.

And people? I have not a clue how to address people! I spent a good portion of my first dance in highschool hiding behind the scenery/in the bathroom and sobbing because I felt so out of place and confused and lonely. I struggle to connect, to converse. I can read people to a point but I never know what's wanted of me so I flounder? I broke off my only romantic relationship because (a) I didn't like him like that and (b) I had no clue what he wanted of me because no one was asking/demanding like I'm used to and I couldn't read a bloody thing from him.

Apparently, or so I'm told, that's not a normal kid thing?

I'm just wondering what I missed. What did my parents miss? Do they think this too? Is this something they realize? My mom goes around diagnosing random kids I know with autism and aspergers and any number of behavioral disabilities, but if I'm right, has she been missing one that's been under her nose for 20 years?

.......

Ketto feels oof

[spectrumed]

3. sadness

Don’t be like that. Be like this, or be that other thing. Be unique, but don’t be too unique. Fit in, but try to be a rebel. Be a renegade, but don’t rock the boat. Don’t know what you are supposed to be? What? Do you have imposter syndrome or something? Just be yourself, but, y’know, sand down the edges a little bit. Be friendlier. Be the kind of person everyone likes. Be the life of the party! Don’t be some shut-in, some crazy cat-lady with absolutely zero social life. Don’t be sad. Don’t burden others with your sadness. Work to maximise the total happiness of your community. A smile goes a long way. Can’t smile? You really can’t help but being a sourpuss all the time? Well, I guess maybe that if you can’t help but stay in a perpetual bad mood bringing everyone else down… then maybe you should just stay isolated? Better stay alone, away from others. You’re toxic. You’re just so damned sad. You really must be quarantined.

I am sad, a lot of the time. Are you? But, no, you can’t just admit that you are sad. Don’t be a buzzkill, try to inject a little humour into the things you say. You can admit you’re depressed, if you do so with a joke. Don’t let others know you’re being sincere. Ironic jokes work the best, don’t they? They let you confess your secret gloom to everyone around, but they’ll never know just how serious you’re being. With a wink of the eye, any candid expression of your inner turmoil can become a hilarious post-modern gag. Are they or are they not telling the truth? Oh, I’ll never tell! And it will all work out excellent, up until the day you commit suicide. But every comedian’s time in the limelight has to end at some point, right?

This blog is supposed to be about autism spectrum disorder, why am I suddenly discussing depression? Well, I suppose that it is time we bring to the table this little thing called comorbidity. Psychology is messy. Some would argue that it is barely even a real scientific field (I tend to think that it is the best thing we have, but I acknowledge that in places, psychology is fundamentally flawed.) You may have thought that you’d get just one diagnosis. One simple label that you can work through and overcome. You’re bipolar, now go deal with it! But instead, you find yourself with a whole fistful of diagnoses. What to hear my proud list of diagnoses? Oh, please, don’t think because I am listing them this one certain way, I put them in order of relevancy to me. I love all of my diagnoses equally.

My diagnoses are:

Generalised Anxiety Disorder (GAD)

Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD)

Agoraphobia

Possible Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD)

Asperger syndrome (AS)

No, I was never officially diagnosed with depression, but largely because, at the time I received these diagnoses, my depression was so blatant that it felt as if I was walking around with a cloud of miasma surrounding at all times. Imagine me as Pig-Pen from Peanuts, but instead of being covered in dirt, I was covered in the funk of melancholy. And whatever treatment I would eventually go on to receive (and still am receiving to this day,) would go about treating my anxiety first, and hopefully, the depression would give in alongside the anxiety. It has, for the most part, though, I still feel the presence of that black dog from time to time. I also got only a half-hearted potential diagnosis of OCD, but later, during a trial of an antidepressant that had a freakishly negative impact on my psyche, it blossomed into a fully-grown attention-craving condition. Turns out that OCD can be a real hog for the spotlight, really not allowing any of the other diagnoses to take their turn on stage. Thankfully, when I got off that particular antidepressant, those symptoms stopped, but it has led me to be far more aware of my internal obsessive-compulsive thought patterns. For me, OCD largely lacks physical compulsions, but my mind is ablaze with intrusive thoughts, and I will routinely force myself to repeat certain phrases in my head to make them go away. The funny thing is, I never realised that wasn’t normal.

Diagnoses are an attempt to map out a spiders’ web of problems. Things come hand in hand. While I’m no psychologist, I can speak from the perspective of someone who has been through the psychiatric process, which I suppose, lends me a certain kind of expertise, doesn’t it? Maybe it really doesn’t. Maybe I’m just throwing words out there, thinking that I could serve a good purpose, but instead all I am doing is contributing to this great onslaught of digital disinformation we’re all suffering under. But I’m probably just too doubtful of myself. I am speaking about myself, after all. I’ve got first-hand experience in being myself. I know exactly what it feels like to own this skin, these bones, this heart, and this mushy brain of mine. I’m not claiming to know everything. I’m just claiming to know about this one sad individual writing this hoping it might allow someone to reblog my posts with the hashtag “relatable” one day.

Anxiety runs in my family. The neurosis demon gets passed down from generation to generation, only occasionally skipping a beat. My mother and I share many of the same neurotic quirks, though, she has for the most part of her life not had it to quite the excessive degree that I have it. I really took that genetic predisposition for anxiety and ran with it. And while I’m the only person in my family to have gotten diagnosed as being “on the spectrum,” there are a few members that I kinda sort of in a way actually quite seriously suspect might also be here somewhere on the spectrum. Still, as always goes with diagnosing, there’s no point in doing it unless the person is in need of some kind of treatment. I wholeheartedly believe that most people on the planet belong to one spectrum, be it an autism spectrum, a bipolar spectrum, a narcissism spectrum, even a schizophrenic spectrum, but diagnoses should be exclusively reserved for those who need psychiatric care. The world is a spectrum, and it’s worth noting that the terms “sane” and “insane” do not alone capture the complexity of the human psyche. A person can appear perfectly sensible, yet at some point in their life, they may have been a real silly little bugger who thought that their pet hamster was the reincarnation of the Buddha. Just as with physical health, one can struggle with one's mental health for one period in their life, only to later on in life feel utterly and entirely mentally healthy. Or, well, sadly in a lot of cases, people who were perfectly mentally healthy may suddenly become diagnosed with dementia. But that’s really sad, so let’s not talk about that.

Is it all genetic? Well, no. Or well, maybe? In regards to autism, I am pretty sure that, yes, it is genetic. While, yes, I do admit that I’m just a dummy on the internet, so what do I really know? And the brain is such a complex bit of mushy meat, so I could always be proven wrong. Though, I tend towards thinking that there most likely is principally a genetic factor to conditions like autism, or attention deficit disorder (and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder,) or things like bipolar disorder. But with anxiety, quite frankly, I can’t say how much of it is nurture and how much of it is nature. I mentioned that my mother and I share many of the same neurotic quirks, so that would imply that there is something in one's genes that can make some more prone to anxiety than others, but my mother does not struggle with agoraphobia, nor does she seem to have any obsessive-compulsive tendencies. In fact, in my family, even those that exhibit some element of heightened anxiety, they don’t seem to show any milder symptoms of this kind. I can’t help but feel as if these conditions I gained through that tortuous period of every boy’s and girl’s (and boy-girl’s) life is called puberty. I hate to conform to stereotypes but I did indeed hate being a teenager. Believe it or not, I wasn’t a jock, and no, I didn’t go to parties. I mostly spent my time crying.

The question that no doubt plagues every movie psychiatrist to no end is what kind of trauma must a person undergo to make them go mad? Abusive parents? Abusive uncles? Abusive teachers? Abusive dogs? Honestly, to be an adult raising a child must be rough, considering how any mistake you make might suddenly turn your little babe into a future serial killer. Now, there’s no doubt that there are some seriously terrible parents out there, and that a lot of people have mental woes that definitely came about due to their parents and their abysmal lack of parental care. But generally, how much can you actually blame on your parents? We know the cliché, let’s go sit down on the sofa and complain to our Freudian hack-shrink all about those times as a kid our dad missed the big game, or that time our mother embarrassed us in front of all of our friends. I have plenty of things to complain about my parents, like I believe we all have. Our parents are flawed, messy human beings, of course they occasionally made mistakes throughout our upbringings. But is that nearly enough to turn a person mentally ill? Putting up with an at times really embarrassing mom? No, I don’t think so. And of course, there are some real awful parents out there, I’m not doubting that. Trust me, I’m a fan of true crime, so I’ve heard some real grizzly stories of what some kids are forced to grow up with. But I am thinking that those instances are more rare than they are common. Most people with mental illnesses can most likely not blame their parents.

How ‘bout bullies? Yes, them bullies. Them awful mean bullies that made all of our lives so painful. It’s funny, it seems like every school had their own fair share of bullies, and yet no-one as an adult ever comes forward to admit that they themselves were the bullies. It’s almost like as if no-one ever thinks of themselves as being a bully, even when they are throwing rocks at that weird chubby kid with blonde hair who happens to be named Fredrik and who just wants to be left alone. Was I bullied? Well… yes. But I can’t say I got the brunt of it. I got bullied, but overall I’d say I only ever had it slightly worse than most people. I was still quite tall, typically taller than my classmates growing up, and for the most part I could roll with the punches. If you really want to talk about a kid I knew growing up that got bullied, let me tell you about this kid who knew all the right dances for all the right Britney Spears songs. He was gay, I think. Not quite old enough to have come out, I suspect, but, well... He liked all the female pop stars, but not in that way of wanting to kiss them and fondle their boobies, but in the “I want to sound just like them when I grow up” sort of way. I don’t know what happened to him (or them, or her, depending on how they identify now,) but that was real bullying. Like most folks, I found myself stuck in that limbo of seeing others get bullied far worse than me and being too cowardly to intervene, in fears that I’d end up taking their place. Yes, isn’t school just a marvellous place? It’s a wonder any of us turn out okay.

No, I think that, fundamentally, the problems I have arose with myself. This, blaming myself, is not something that I am unused to doing. I have a long history of blaming myself, that’s really the problem. As a teenager I knew that I was different, and I was frightened and scared of being exposed. I didn’t even really know what it was that was different about me, I just knew that I didn’t fit in. I felt as if I didn’t deserve to fit in. The older I got, the more intense these feelings got. And I started taking it out on myself. I started hating myself. And I really mean furiously hating myself. It wasn’t some casual self-loathing, it was searing self-hatred. I did not physically hurt myself, but I did engage with self-harm. I kept repeating the mantras of “I hate myself,” and “I am pathetic,” over and over again, with the ultimate goal of making myself cry. For a period, I couldn’t go to bed without making myself cry first. I began taking days off from school, pretending to be sick. Well, I suppose I was ill, but not physically. I began failing most of my classes, I only ended up doing well in art. I stayed away from school for whole weeks at the time. Once, when I shame-facedly returned to school some of the meaner boys came up to me and said that they were surprised to learn that I was still alive. They were surprised, but also a little disappointed.

This was a time in my life when I really needed psychiatric care. This became increasingly obvious to my parents, and my teachers. I was clearly suffering from depression. Not just some teenaged angst, but full-blown, wholly insidious, depression. But, well, I didn’t get the care that I needed. Oh, I did go to see a psychologist a couple of times, but she saw no reason for me to continue seeing her. I don’t know why she felt as if I wasn’t in need of help, frankly, I can’t fathom why she felt as if I wasn’t in need of help. I suppose I avoided telling her the truth of what went on inside of my head, but I feel like as if any good psychologist would have been able to tell that the kid sitting across from them was clearly suffering from something a tad more intense than just some common concerns about puberty. At most I was able to confess was that I was feeling ashamed over myself for getting so fat, but it should have been clear to anybody that I was only using that as a hook to hang my self-hatred on. There very clearly was some underlying condition that I had that should have gotten addressed. But it went ignored.

At most I can think to explain this is the fact that I wasn’t “problematic.” Not in the way some kids are, when they’re struggling with their mental health. I did not act out, I did not take drugs, and I was certainly not violent. Even to this day, though I have at many times suffered from suicidal ideation, I am a real low-risk for actual suicide considering my intense fear of dying (yes, that’s an odd combo to have.) So, I’ve come to realise that the only way I am getting treatment is if I actually seek out treatment. And back then, I was just as placid as I had previously always been. I was quiet and introverted, just desperate to get back home so I could go and hide in my room. Many teenagers are like that. And it is easy to ignore them, because they want to be ignored. They just don’t want to exist. When you are desperate to be left alone, eventually people will leave you alone. I would go on to receive psychiatric care later on my life, but only after several years passed. I did have a better time living in my later teenage years, but like with a bone that heals wrong, I needed someone to come in and sort me out. I was sad as a teenager, but I would become really sad as a twenty-something. Hopefully my thirties will be jolly.

[buildarocketboys]

Been having lots of thinky thoughts about autism while reading I Overcame My Autism and All I Got Was This Lousy Anxiety Disorder by Sarah Kurchak. Mostly about having self doubt about my autism bc my childhood wasn't an unmitigated disaster or unending catastrophe and I actually had friends, but I think I've figured out why that is (and why I'm struggling so much more now than I ever did as a kid).

It comes down to several things. So in primary school, I sort of considered myself to be friends with everybody (and kinda was I guess? I don't think many people actively disliked me anyway, or if they did it wasn't obvious enough for me to pick up on). My "best friend" for the later years of primary school was a very classic 'socially ept girl takes socially awkward autistic under their wing' situation but she was also very much...manipulative and would only let us do/play what *she* wanted, even when I really really didn't want to, but I was usually too scared to be really forceful about it in case I lost her/she got mad at me. I now definitely consider this a toxic (possibly abusive, if that's even possible when you're 8-11?) friendship. There's other stuff in my primary school years that definitely rings very autistic but looking back (even a few years later) I really didn't have any meaningful friendships, at least compared to those I had in high school (how much that's an autistic thing and how much it's just...normal social development as a child idk)

But in high school...

I think it helped that it was pretty 'in' and the time to be a complete weirdo and play that up. The time of 'lol random xD' etc was definitely something I used to my advantage as an autistic. I played up my weirdness (probably still counted as masking in a way - socially acceptable - in our weird little group - weirdness - was easier to perform than trying to pass as normal ig).

I also found friends who were, you know, Like This and so accepted me being like this as well (and weren't Assholes like my primary school bff). I was never popular by any means, but I had my weird little group.

Additionally, I was Very Unaware of how my behaviour (specifically the things I said) could be taken as rude or mean or inappropriate. It's very possible I put people off with some of the things I said or did (politically my beliefs were...bad but it wasn't just that). I definitely had a superiority complex and made friends by using friendly banter and it usually worked. Being unaware of how I could come off also made me Able to use this as a technique for making friends instead of being an anxious mess and not knowing what I'm allowed to say or do (which is how I feel now).

Once I got to 18 (and joined tumblr lol, which wasn't the only thing that contributed to me realising that some of the things I believed - mostly bc I was repeating stuff my parents thought - and said and did were harmful, but it was a big part of it). Learning about why certain stuff was harmful and could hurt people in a very real way (rather than the way it's occasionally spoon-fed to you in school where it just comes across as vaguely patronising, obviously not something YOU'D ever do, and not even applicable in most cases when the majority of people you knew were white and presumably cis and straight), was a good thing, obviously, and I believe it's made me a better person overall. But unfortunately it's come at the cost of being an anxious mess when it comes to interacting with people, unable to do it naturally (because I don't know exactly what I can say to them bc what's a casual joke/banter to one person you know well enough or who gets you can be an inexplicably offensive/hurtful/inappropriate comment to someone who doesn't*) and trying to mask and say only appropriate things. And this often fails either because a. I mess up my words bc I'm trying to so hard to focus on not offending someone or b. I never forge a genuine connection with them because I'm forced into meaningless small talk and unable to get to the real friendship I could potentially have if I could just figure out how to be myself with them in a way that's not going to lead to them being offended or rejecting me (or just being put off and distancing themselves from me).

So basically, tldr, I honestly don't think I masked all that much as a kid? Like, I'm sure I must have done some (like with body language and tone) but in terms of conversation/making friends I was mostly just my weird self, at least in high school. And then I figured out that because I didn't understand what was inappropriate/offensive, I possibly (sometimes definitely) hurt people being myself, so I developed anxiety and an inability to just be myself, leading to me finding it nearly impossible to make meaningful connections with anyone irl for the past few years.

*by this I don't mean like. Saying something Actually Racist (for example) to someone and them being OK with it vs them being offended by it. I mean more like...smaller social things, or making fun of my own identity, or pointing out something about someone but not in a mean way. Not trying to claim that I've never been racist or any other ism (I definitely have, I regret to say) but just wanted to clarify lest I come across as 'oh woe is me poor white person who can't say offensive shit anymore!')

[monkey-network]

My Issues with Butch Hartman

Call this the sequel to my post on Mr. Enter. But honestly compared to Enter, Butch Hartman has made himself look far worse in so little time. Not only with how he uses his influence, but he basically showed his true colors not long after he left Nickelodeon. With Enter, the worst you can say about him is his opinions on media and his politics. With Hartman, there is a surprisingly lot more under his belt that made the hate towards him .

To preface this, while I’m gonna shit on this dude, I’m not shaming anyone who still likes his past content. With that said, bibbity Boppity boopity. Let’s look at the fucking scoopity.

The Telltale Oaxis

This really takes the cake as the scummiest thing Butch has done. Words and opinions can be one thing, but using your platform to basically trick some people out of their money for a project you abandoned for the most part grinds me gears a lot more. As bad as his marketing strategy was, at least Enter provided effort in his indiegogo project beforehand for god’s sake. Oaxis is one of the most pitiable crowdfunded projects I’ve seen.

It’s nearly two years since Butch got Oaxis funded and what have gotten beyond pure dead silence. Nearly two years and little to no significant updates for Oaxis’s Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, his Youtube, or the site’s official account. No wait, that last part’s kind of a lie. They had monthly updates on the official site up until September 2019. Could’ve posted this on their social medias but you take what you can get. 

The major takeaway from the updates, in all fairness, was that the kickstarter wasn’t enough and they still need to raise more funds for the service. The “capital-building” stage he calls it where he’s looking for more investors in addition to getting actual programs onto the service. That and Oaxis is a big vision for Butch and his wife in spite of not only giving up the monthly updates and basically secluding any mention of Oaxis from any place else. That’s basically it and I legit feel sorry for everyone that couldn’t get their refund back.

This isn’t HBO Max or Disney+ where you just expect them to have something together after their initial announcement because they’re already media conglomerates, this is an independent project. One that people, your fans included Butch, put over 200K thinking you would at least give people something. But beyond a “sizzle reel” that said nothing aside from Oaxis going to be a thing, you have presented jack after two years. I don’t expect the ins and outs of every business meeting with executives, but staying silent about everything except for monthly newsletters that offer very little encouraging progress and hasn’t updated since September of last year is not a good sign. And I’m especially hard on this topic, Butch, because this is the biggest point where it is seriously hard to trust you. It’s not criticizing your ego when after having too many cracks in your story, you really haven’t put your money where your mouth is.

I don’t wanna presume the guy’s given up on it, hoping everybody would forget it after a while, but he’s really put the effort in to make Oaxis feel like a afterthought. I’m not an expert in business, but even I can believe that after his non-apology for not being upfront with his initial intentions, that he’d try to provide updates on the project to not come off as the scam artist people have accused him as. Even with his Youtube channel that I’ll get to later, I don’t think it’s hard consistently posting about your so called vision if you have that much faith in its success. You’ve already gotten thousands of bucks initially with the crowdfund, people deserve more than your pitiful wishful platitudes and I unfortunately can’t believe you’ll have anything after a few years. It’s not that everyone forgot about it, but you mostly took the money and ran. If Butch pops up with something if he sees this somehow, I’ll eat that crow, but I sincerely doubt it after this long. Like at least post something on the Twitter, I get depressed just looking at it; that account is the textbook definition of famine.

The Childhood Reposter

I’ve brought up Butch’s youtube channel a couple times, and it’s when every time I look at it, it’s a little sad. When it comes to major creators, I typically think that after finishing their projects they’d move to newer things. People like Lauren Faust, Mike Judge, CH Greenblatt are all continuing to make new works under differing studios while new creators are getting the spotlight. Butch though? I mean, he has a new cartoon that I swear you’ve never heard about but other than that, the dude looks like he has little to say for himself nowadays beyond the 2 shows he’s famous for, Fairly Odd Parents and Danny Phantom. I would’ve added TUFF Puppy and Bunsen is a Beast but I can see that those two aren’t his major players seeing as how they’re rarely ever mentioned on the channel.

If it’s not some watchmojo level meme video, almost every other video is about either two of those shows in some varied fashion. I get that he “created your childhood” and made credulous bank from Nickelodeon, but it’s like Danny Phantom is all that stands between him and having an audience. That and drawing anime characters in his style which is... y’know, I’ll leave that to you. It’s like he retired and yet goes on about the good old days like a fluctuating ego. He’s still making a cartoon but to him that’s hardly a factor compared to his known successes.

Personally, I wouldn’t want to just be known as the guy who made two of your countless beloved cartoons. Not that that’s all he talks about, but it’s the insistence of his legacy that unfortunately gives me Bojack Horseman vibes. He no doubt has a good thing going but I believe that this isn’t gonna last. Just saying, dude has 850K subscribers and unless it’s a real hook like with the recent Danny Phantom/Jake Long death battle, he’s hardly getting a good fraction of views anymore. There’s only so many times you can milk Danny Phantom as your masterpiece before everyone moves on.

The Holy Boast

I wanna make this short because I’m not a huge talker of religion, but I stand to say that you should NOT, under any circumstance, believe BPD, PTSD, autism, fucking heart & kidney failure can be “cured” or “healed” through sermons of prayer. This here? This is genuinely something else.

https://www.healingjourneys.today/

For clarity, this was a gospel conference hosted by Butch and his wife and yes, they openly proclaim that BPD, austism, and heart disease can be cured through prayer of holy worship.

Now, I’m gonna give a full disclosure right here because this most certainly biases my point here, like I’m gonna own this. But my grandpa was a religious man that suffer from health problems. He notably prayed to carry on, yes, but at the same time he sought medical help. Even he told me that prayers wasn’t gonna keep the pacemaker going, he went to the doctors and actually did more than read the bible to improve himself. He unfortunately passed, but he was in his 70s and I honestly couldn’t believe, as hard as I try, that he was gonna live forever. My grandpa would’ve no doubt died far earlier if he followed this conference’s logic.

My point is that this is personally unsettling. I seriously cannot believe this is how autism and religion works and it blows my mind that him and his wife thought this conference was a suitable idea. I’m not bashing them as christians, but thinking mental disorders and bodily diseases can be done away with motivational seminars because that’s basically what they are is a legit slap to the face. And the seedling idea that they’ve done this before blows my mind.

The Financial Flaker

This is very recent and everything is generally explained in the 12 minute video but long story short: Butch hired an artist and never paid them for their work. The artist in question, Kuro, describes what happened between him and Butch in this video and provides receipts. Can’t really add anything to this myself beyond this just builds to the idea that Butch cannot be trusted as a professional business maker. I believe he still has people working for him but from this video, it tells me that Hartman will gladly use those lower than him in favorable pursuits and will gladly throw ignorance when he wants to because his cartoon veteran status presents that shield from thinking he can do no wrong, which can mean throttling his hires.  Let’s end this.

The Conclusion

When I get down to it, Butch is almost a Machiavellian character in a way. It’s amazing how much the trust people have had with Hartman have evaporated in less than a couple years. It’s amazing how much his ego has truly shown after he stopped being a namestay in Nickelodeon. Haven’t even mentioned the times he arrogantly deflected criticism because he was a namestay at Nick and how a couple who’ve worked with are well aware of his ego. I can’t help but believe that even after everything, he claims ignorance to his fall from grace and keeps going. Even when more and more are knowing his true self, he’s mostly just doing what he’s been doing for the past few years.

It’s respectable in a way, but shows that the world will move on without him. Again, if you like Danny Phantom and Fairly OddParents, I won’t judge you for it nor say you should be ashamed. This isn’t about cancelling Butch, or get him to stop spreading whatever wacky things he believes in. It’s my personal take of how this man whom I once respected because of what he made before has lost every bit of that from me. It really feels like he grew up with that “I Created Your Childhood” mentality being a 4 time showrunner for almost a couple decades. And when he finally left Nickelodeon, I guess the chance to be that stand out self-made success got to his head and he finally showed his true colors. I now find it hard to believe Butch cares about the little guy that were his fans as much as he rides off his success and others who tolerate him. As such, like JK Rowling, more are seeing this side of him and leaving him behind. Meanwhile Butch is gonna chug on until he just loses steam. It’s kinda like Icarus where the guy will make every effort to fly to the sun. But sooner or later, he’s gonna fall, and in the end I doubt anyone’s gonna care to see it. I know he won’t.

[mental-health-advice]

Submission from 🌺

I don’t know about having DID or OSDD. I feel if anything OSDD would be more likely tho due to me still being conscious usually idk. My therapist has noted down “Dissociative Symptoms” for me thus far alongside depression and anxiety. I however dont think I even have bad enough trauma for it? I dont remember most of my childhood. Only things I KNOW caused trauma before I was 7 was my mom yelling a lot, at the time also hitting/spanking me as well as possibly the fact she (1/? 🦚🌺)

washed out my mouth with soap at that age. Like when I said swear words and stuff. I doubt that’s bad enough tho. Things that I can’t remember/ remember fully happening but have been told or know happened was my grandmother apparently spanking me until I cried myself to sleep as an infant, my bullying starting at 6-7yo which carried on into my late teens… and 2 of my best friends being the ones to start it. Also loosing contact with another best friend in kindergarten affected me (2/?🦚🌺)

For s long time after. He wasn’t good at German so he got moved to another kindergarten that would teach him. Tho I don’t think I can consider a friend being ripped from me like that trauma? Idk. There is more traumatic stuff I actually semi recall but that was all when I was over 7 which I think is the latest for a kids brain to develop DID/OSDD. So idk if anything was bad enough and honestly don’t want to self diagnose even tho I’ve been suspicious (3/?🦚🌺)

(reason why I say parts instead of Alters) EitherWayThingsGotWorseAndMyMotherLiterallyThrethenedMeWithMurderAndSaidAllMyFriendsShouldCommitSuicide. Everytime I freeze in my fight/flight/freeze/fawn response and then sometimes fawn happens if I am locked somewhere where they cant reach me. Here only freeze tho. She stood right ahice me who was cowering in a corner and kept saying I literally can’t get up and walk off and then screamed st her to not touch me (4?/? I cant count hhhh 🌺🦚)

She claimed I would just try to sue her if she dared touch me and then mocked me because I cant call people about how she needs to call the police on herself FOR me. I literally haven’t wanted to kill myself that badly as this day in a bit and I honestly am shaking just thinking about it. Like I said ice pretty much almost fully diagnosed depression and anxiety, professionally assumed dissociative symptoms and on top of that not professionally assumed autism tho mom and I assume (5/?🌺🦚)

It for different reasons. She because of how I shut down when a situation is too much and how I cant handle being tasked with multiple things at once/breaking the order of what I’m doing and I due to how I struggle to read human emotions and realizing how to function like a normal person. I can accidentally completely hurt someone and be completely oblivious to it, doing it again and again until told off. And then I accidentally hurt them in another way because I’m scared I’ll do (6/?🌺🦚)

It again. Example: I’m bety clingy due to trauma in my mid teens regarding some friends. I didn’t realize I was being too much until my friend distanced herself causing me to break down in fear of loosing her. She admitted I had been too clingy. I ended up distancing myself - scared of overwhelming her again if I talk to her. It took me 2 whole months to even tell her I love her again. Now she admitted I’ve been a bit too distant which I already was aware of but still (7?/?🌺🦚)

I literally didn’t even dare ask her how she is doing for TWO MONTHS thinking she would leave me if I started clinging again. I hyper fixated on her a lot last year which I realized when she said it was too much. I’m slowly trying to at least check up on her again. I beg her to communicate to me if I fuck up ANYTHING because I literally am blind to it but I feel she thinks she hurts me if she does. What more am I supposed to do than tell her “hey I cant understand normal human (8/?🌺🦚)

interaction so please tell me if I’m being weird!”? Like I said before, I don’t want to self diagnose. It’s just that this plus generally my hyper fixations with people and games/shows is a little suspicious in the long run if that makes sense. My brother also has adhd so it’s not as if its impossible for some other stuff to be in our family, y'know? I’ll see where therapy takes me for now tho. I started rambling again, didn’t I? Sorry about that! (8?/?🦚🌺)

But yeah in short I’ve trauma but most is from after the “requirement” age for DID/OSDD plus I’ve many other mental issues either confirmed or suspected. Who knows maybe my mother is right and I belong locked up in a mental institution from the movies instead of how they actually are. According to her I’m just a disgusting liar who deserves to be suffocated anyways. — Also I’ve honestly kept asking myself if I’m just making up the parts. I used to have imaginary friends as a kid (9/?🦚🌺)

Who my mother forbid me to talk to as I was being “weird”. Maybe it’s just that again? Or maybe I’m not making it up and some of those imaginary friends were parts? Idk. What I know is that one of them literally was more like a mother to me than my own mother. I recently had a dream about them - before the parts returned really - where I called that one imaginary friend “mom” and said I missed her. I cried. I didn’t want to wake up.I struggle to stay on track with this I’m sorry (10/?🦚🌺)

Either way, I apolagize for rambling, being a mess and being all over the place. I honestly just made myself cry again at this rate and yeah… I kinda banned 2 of my browsers from sending aska for an hour rip (final)🦚🌺

Hey there again!

Please don’t feel bad at all for talking so much and every now and again rambling. I am glad that you feel comfortable and safe in speaking with us as it’s so important that you do have someone you can talk to regardless of what you may need/ want to say.

In regards to the trauma that you have endured both as a child and whilst growing up, it’s important that you know that we all handle trauma differently from others and sometimes, even a little bit of trauma that feels like nothing can have lifelong impact on you and who you grow up to be. I also do not think that you belong in a mental health hospital long term either, whether you believe it or not you are doing the very best you can right now and right now that’s enough. Just remember that talking can be so helpful no matter if it’s your therapist you talk to, a counsellor from either a helpline or on web counselling, a close friend or even us! Never feel like you aren’t good enough to be able to talk to another, you’re so important in life and you deserve the very best!

In regards to possible diagnosis’ that you may have, it can be quite hard at times to be properly diagnosed by a professional as some diagnosis’ may have the same or similar symptoms as another and not only this but sometimes a diagnosis can also coexist with another making symptoms that you may be having worse and consequently blurring what diagnosis you may have. Does that make sense?

I’m so sorry that your Mum treats you as she does, you do not deserve this at all. Have you been able to talk to anyone about this as yet?

I really hope that this has helped a bit and please know that you are not alone and that I’m thinking of you!

Take care,

Lauren

[the-desolated-quill]

Quill’s Swill - The Worst Of 2019

Congratulations! You’ve made it through another year! You’ve faced many obstacles and overcome many adversaries to arrive here, at the dawn of a new decade. So as we prepare to leave the 2010s and make our way into the 2020s, lets take a look back at the challenges and hardships of 2019. And by challenges and hardships, I of course mean shitty fiction and media.

Yes, it’s time for yet another edition of Quill’s Swill, where we mark the absolute worst stories that the industry had to offer over the past year and proceed to tear them to shreds. Think of it as like voiding your bowels before the New Year.

As always remember that this is my personal, subjective opinion. If you happen to like any of the things on this list, that’s fine. More power to you. Go make your own list. Also bear in mind I haven’t seen everything 2019 has to offer due to various other commitments. So as much as I really, really want to, I can’t put Avengers Endgame on here. I know what happens. It sounds fucking terrible, but I haven’t seen the film, so it wouldn’t be fair of me to put it on the list, even though it would most definitely deserve it.

...

Seriously, read the synopsis of Endgame on Wikipedia some time. It’s like fanfic written by a nine year old. It’s truly shocking. And now it’s the highest grossing movie of all time? Give me strength.

All In A Row

Don’t you just hate it when you’re expected to parent your autistic child? Like actually show love and care and consideration to your offspring. Look at him, expecting you to treat him like a human being. Selfish bastard! If only there was a play that explored the horrors of having to be a decent person to your own flesh and blood and how objectively awful it is. If you’re one of those people, then the play All In A Row will be right up your street.

Premiering on the 14th February at Southwark Playhouse in London, All In A Row was a total shitshow to say the least. The playwright, Alex Oates, claimed to have ten years of experience working with autistic children, which you wouldn’t have believed if you saw the play as the autistic child at the centre of the play, Lawrence, seemed more like a wild animal than a person. In fact two of the main characters compare him to a dog. And if you thought this wasn’t dehumanising enough, Lawrence isn’t even a child. He’s a puppet. Yes, it’s as bad as it sounds.

All In A Row seems to place all of the blame for the family’s predicament on the autistic child, who’s presented as barely functional, bordering on bestial. There’s no effort to really make an emotional connection with Lawrence (how can you? He’s a puppet!) as the play instead focuses on how this kid has effectively ruined this family’s life because of his autism and aggressive behaviour. Speaking as someone on the autism spectrum, I can say quite confidently that this play is fucking despicable. Badly written, badly conceived, insulting and downright mean spirited. I wouldn’t want Oates looking after my autistic children, that’s for damn sure.

Anthem

EA is back and this time they’re dragging the critical darling that is BioWare down with them.

Anthem was a desperate attempt to jump aboard the ‘live service’ bandwagon, trying to replicate the success of other video games like Overwatch, Destiny and Warframe. They failed spectacularly. The game itself had more bugs than A Bug’s Life, loot drops were often stingy and unrewarding, loading times were farcically long, and the story and worldbuilding was fucking pitiful. Oh yeah, and if you played it on PS4, there was a good chance it could permanently damage it. Thankfully I have a uni friend with an Xbox One and they allowed me to play the game on that. It was a crushing disappointment, especially coming fresh off the heels of Mass Effect Andromeda, which didn’t exactly set the world on fire back in 2017.

It didn’t help that EA’s reputation was in tatters thanks to the lootbox controversy of Star Wars Battlefront II and having to try and win back the trust of fans, but worse still reports began to service of what went on behind the scenes at BioWare during the game’s development. Apparently the game’s story and mechanics kept changing every other day as the creative directors and writers didn’t have the faintest idea what kind of game they wanted to make, and the developers were often forced to work obscenely long work hours in abusive crunch periods to get the game finished for launch. It got so bad that, according to an article on Kotaku, some members of the team had to leave for weeks or even months at a time to recover from ‘stress casualties.’ 

To think this was the same company that gave us Mass Effect, Dragon Age and Knights Of The Old Republic. Thank God that Obsidian Entertainment is there to pick up the slack on the RPG front because I think it’s safe to assume that BioWare won’t be around for much longer at this rate.

The Lion King (2019 remake)

Here we go. Yet another live action remake of a Disney classic. Excpet it’s not live action, is it? Well... it’s live action in the sense that Dinosaur was live action (remember that film? Don’t worry if you don’t. No one does). Real locations but CGI characters. Millions of dollars spent on cutting edge tech to create photo realistic animals... and the film ends up duller than a bowl of porridge that really likes trainspotting.

It’s not just the fact that The Lion King remake is yet another soulless cash grab from the House of Mouse, it’s also the fact that it’s done really badly that upsets me. The Lion King works as an animated film. Bright colourful images, over the top song and dance sequences and vibrant character designs. As a ‘live action’ film, it just looks awkward and stilted. None of the animals are very expressive, leaving it up to the poor voice actors to carry the film, and to cap it all off the CGI isn’t even all that convincing in my opinion. At no point did I look at Simba and go ‘oh yeah, he looks like a real lion.’ It’s so obviously fake. In fact it reminds me of those early 00s movies like Cats & Dogs or Stuart Little where you see the jaws of the talking animals moving up and down like some messed up ventriloquist act or something. And here’s me thinking cinema has evolved past this.

BBC’s The War Of The Worlds

Remember Peter Harness? That guy who wrote that Doctor Who episode about the moon being an egg? Yeah, he’s back and he’s doing an adaptation of H.G. Wells’ War Of The Worlds. And guess what! It’s fucking ghastly! :D

The three part BBC mini-series was without a doubt some of the worst telly I think I’ve ever seen. It’s staggering how clueless Harness is as a writer. For starters he managed to achieve the impossible and somehow made a Martian invasion of Earth boring. I didn’t even think it was possible, but somehow he pulled it off. Then he sucks all tension out of the story by revealing the ultimate fate of the Martians at the beginning of the second episode, so now any threat or danger has been chucked out of the window because we know that the main female protagonist Amy at least would survive. And then finally he takes a massive dump over the source material by having humanity weaponise typhoid to kill the red weed rather than just having the Martians die of the common cold like in the book. Because God forbid us Brits should be presented as anything other than heroic and dignified.

So what we’re left with is a poorly realised allegory with ineffectual horror tropes full of OTT progressive posturing in a pathetic attempt to make Harness and the BBC look more liberal than they actually are. There’s no effort to really explore the themes of imperialism and colonialism outside of casual lip service, and we barely get a glimpse of the dark side of humanity. Everyone is presented as flawed, but basically awesome or, in the case of Rafe Spall’s character, utterly gormless. Our TV license fees help fund this shit, you know?!

And if you think this was bad, just wait till New Year’s Day where we’ll get to see Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss’ butcher Dracula. Can we stop giving these beloved literary icons to these hacks please?

Glass

I liked Split. It wasn’t an amazing movie, but it was entertaining with some good ideas, a great performance from James McAvoy and was a true return to form for M Night Shyamalan. That being said, I wasn’t keen on the idea of it taking place in the same universe as Unbreakable. I feared it would be a step too far and we’d end up having something like... well, something like Glass.

On paper, Glass isn’t a bad idea. The idea of superpowers being a delusion is legitimately intriguing and could have been a great post-modern deconstruction of the superhero genre. Except Shyamalan never actually does anything with it. The first act drags on and on with absolutely nothing happening, none of the characters really grow or change over the course of the film, Bruce Willis in particular is basically only here for an extended cameo as his character does pretty much nothing for the majority of the film, and then the entire film is undermined by that stupid Shyamalan twist. Turns out superhumans are real and there’s a big cover up. Oh great! So not only does it render the entire film pointless, it also undoes what made Unbreakable and Split so good. They’re no longer people capable of extraordinary feats via rational means. They’re just superhuman. They can do anything. Sigh.

Shyamalan... maybe it’s time to give up the director’s chair, yeah?

Cats

Oh come on! Don’t act surprised! Did you honestly think I wouldn’t put Cats on this list?!

Cats, without a doubt, is the worst film of the decade and, yes, the CGI is terrible. Not only are there these sub-human cat mutants running around, we also have mice and cockroaches with child faces, James Corden coughing up furballs, Taylor Swift trying to give the furries in the audience boners, Idris Elba looking disturbingly underdressed and Rebel Wilson being... well... Rebel Wilson. It’s a disaster of a film. And really, should we even be surprised? We all knew this was going to suck. And no it’s not because of the CGI. I thought the CGI in Pokemon: Detective Pikachu was creepy as well, but at least it had a decent script and good performances to back it up. No the reason why Cats sucked is because... it’s Cats. It’s always been that bad. No amount of ‘advanced fur technology’ was going to change that. It was still going to be a confused, plotless mess with one dimensional characters and bad songs.

The only consolation I had was that I didn’t waste money buying a ticket. A friend of mine snuck me into the premiere and we watched it in the projector room. The plan was to make fun of it and have a laugh, but we didn’t even do that because honestly there’s nothing to really make fun. There’s only so many times you can take the piss out of the CGI and honestly the film was just boring more than anything else. It doesn’t even have the distinction of being so bad it’s good like Sharknado or Tommy Wiseau’s The Room. It’s just bad, period.

I just hope we don’t see something similar happen to Starlight Express. Just think. Anthropomorphic, singing trains on roller skates. Shudder.

Star Wars: The Rise Of Skywalker

Finally we have yet another cynical cash grab from Disney.

I confess I didn’t exactly go into The Rise Of Skywalker with an open mind. I was never all that keen on a sequel trilogy in the first place, and neither The Force Awakens nor The Last Jedi ever convinced me otherwise. Admittedly they weren’t bad movies. Just derivative and painfully uninspired, and I was expecting more of the same for Episode IX. What I got instead was quite possibly the worst Star Wars film since Attack Of The Clones. Yes, it’s that bad.

This film is very poorly made, filled with plot contrivances and logic holes galore. I lost count of the number of times the protagonists got into a dangerous situation because of Rey constantly wandering off like a confused toddler lost in a shopping mall. Oh and we finally find out who her parents were and it was quite a twist, but only because it was really stupid. Of course we didn’t see it coming because nobody would have guessed it would be something that moronic. I feel JJ Abrams’ stupid ‘mystery box’ philosophy is to blame for this. It’s derailed countless franchises before such as Lost and Cloverfield, and now Abrams has fucked up Star Wars because he’s obsessed with mystery for the sake of mystery and Disney are so lazy that they couldn’t be bothered to plan an actual trilogy out properly beforehand. Instead they just wing it, making it up as they go along, which led to Rian Johnson ‘subverting our expectations’ and left Abrams desperately trying to pick up the pieces. 

In fact a lot of The Rise Of Skywalker seemed designed specifically to appease people of both sides of the wide chasm The Last Jedi had created. The roles of characters of colour like Finn and Rose were significantly reduced, Poe and Finn don’t end up together because of homophobia, but we do see two women kiss in the background of one two second shot that could easily be cut out when they release the film in China, Kylo Ren gets his stupid redemption even though he hasn’t fucking earned it, Lando Calrissian shows up for no fucking reason, Rey is given ‘flaws’ relating to her parentage in order to combat those accusing her of being a Mary Sue, but they’re the boring kind of flaws that don’t have any real impact on her character, and that ghastly ship Reylo is made canon even though it makes no sodding sense in the context of this movie, let alone the whole trilogy. They even go to the trouble of baiting us with a FinnRey romance before pulling the rug out from under us. Then, just to add insult to injury, the film retroactively ends up making the entire original trilogy completely pointless. All because Disney wanted more dollars to put in their Scrooge McDuck money bin.

The Rise Of Skywalker, and indeed the entire sequel trilogy, should serve as a cautionary tale against the dangers of hype and nostalgia. The reason The Force Awakens was successful wasn’t because it was a good movie (because lets be brutally honest here, it really fucking wasn’t). It was because it gave gullible Star Wars fans warm fuzzies because it reminded them of A New Hope whilst tempting them with the vague promise that things might get more interesting later on. And when that didn’t materialise, quelle surprise, the fanbase didn’t take it very well. I would love to think that this will serve as an important lesson for the future when people go and see Disney movies, but who am I kidding? I guarantee at some point we’re going to get Episodes X, XI and XII and we’ll have to go through this sorry process all over again.

So there we have it. The worst of 2019. May they rot forever in Satan’s rectum or wherever it is stories go to die. Tomorrow we’ll take a look at the other end of the spectrum. Yes it’s the Quill Seal Of Approval Awards! The best of the best! Who shall win? The suspense is killing me! Ooooh, I can’t wait! You’ll be there tomorrow, won’t you? Of course you will. How could you not?

[holycowbrowniekitty]

Norwegian Ingrid is imprisoned in Japan for a crime she did not commit

Original text in Norwegian by Stian Smakic Sopp was published with the consent of the family. It has been slightly modified during translation to fit this format.Stian has now provided with his own translation in the original post: https://www.facebook.com/soppp/posts/10162553924190366

Norwegian student Ingrid from Ålgård in Rogaland was arrested by the Japanese authorities and is currently in detention for crimes she has not committed, without any incriminating proof against her case, and under brutal conditions that are human rights violating.

Her friend “Alexandra” was also put under similar conditions, but has been released. “Alexandra” describes her experiences as torture and highly traumatizing.  

Ingrid is a master student of Global Environment Studies at Sophia University in Tokyo, Japan. Ingrid is a good-hearted girl who loves people, animals and the environment, and she loves Japan. She has a pet parakeet and insects who means the world to her, and is currently writing her master’s thesis about the importance of the insects in our environment. She is not one to be sarcastic, as she worries about hurting people’s feelings, but she has the brightest smile. Ingrid also has autism.

Please donate if you can! For those who don’t know, the justice system in Japan is terrible and abusive, especially to those who are deemed “smugglers”.

More information on the actual events + the system beneath the cut.

What happened?

March 2019

Ingrid reached out to Association of Norwegian Students Abroad (hereby; ANSA) and asked if she could meet a representative to talk. I (author Stian) met Ingrid, and we had lunch together and stayed in touch with her frequently on Facebook from this point on. Ingrid told me she wanted to expand her network and get more friends. I gave her a list of organizations, clubs and networks I deemed it positive for her to be a part of, as well as encouraging her to join in on ANSA events so we could stay in touch. Ingrid joined these events from this point on. My wish was for her to join as a board member, but she doubted her capabilities for such a task. I told her that in ANSA we all support each other, and that there would never be a task we couldn’t conquer together.

8th November 2019

ANSA’s board meeting is held, and Ingrid is elected as a board member. In the following days a meeting to get to know each other is planned and decided through a poll in our private Facebook group.

22nd November 2019

The first board meeting is held, but Ingrid never showed. She had not been a part of the discussion in the previous days, and no one heard anything from her in the following days either. I thought she might have pulled back because the responsibilities seemed overwhelming on her, and I decided to give her a few days before I messaged her again to give her some space.

26th November 2019

I woke up to se a long message on my screen from a person not in my Facebook-contacts, but I recognized the surname. It was the same as Ingrid’s. In the message, it said that Ingrid had been arrested by the police.

Ingrid has a friend in Japan, “Alexandra”.

 April 2019

A parcel for “Alexandra” from abroad reaches the Japanese customs. They claimed it contained marijuana. Neither the parcel nor information about it has been passed on to us at this point.

Shortly after this, “Alexandra” travels to her home country on a vacation. She was still not stopped by the authorities at this point.

12th November 2019

“Alexandra” returns to Japan. When she arrives at the airport she is arrested, and she describes the conditions as brutal and ruthless, and claims the authorities destroyed most of her possessions when they ransacked her bags. They found nothing, but they still sent her to detention.

She describes the conditions during her detention as follows:

The cell was about 6m2 in total, where they would keep up to four people at the same time. It was so cold that the only way they could stay warm was by walking around in the room. She lost 5,5kg during this period. She was allowed to shower once every five days. You slept on the floor. Wakeup-time was at 6:00am.

Every time there was a questioning, she was dragged by two policemen who each had a strap that was fastened in a belt “Alexandra” had to wear into the interrogation room, and if she could not keep up with them, they would pull the straps so hard that she would be pained by it.

The questionings happened up to three times a day, where each session would last several hours on end. The belt, which “Alexandra” describes as a torture device, was tightened so hard that she had troubles breathing. With what little breath she had, she told the officers interrogating her that the belt was fastened too tightly and that she couldn’t breathe, where the response was “too bad for you” or a similarly, as they fastened the belt even more if they felt like it. She was handcuffed so tightly she got cuts on her hands.

Verbal humiliation was also practiced.

At times she was also locked inside a small box she describes as claustrophobic and especially traumatizing.

If the detainees screamed in pain or cried, they would be put in solitary confinement.

After her release, the smell of the detergent used on the prison clothes gives her such a strong reaction that she vomits.

The authorities confiscated her phone and computer. There was never found any transaction log, communication log, order log or anything else that could be related to a parcel from the USA containing narcotic drugs.

20th November 2019

After 8 days of detention, “Alexandra” is released after receiving threats from the police about telling about her experiences in their detention. The same day, Ingrid is arrested.

22nd November 2019

The family is informed about the arrest by the Norwegian Embassy

26th November 2019

I am informed by Ingrid’s sister about her situation

29th November 2019

The authorities decided to hold Ingrid for another 10 days

 Because of the legal and formal restrictions, we have not been allowed to publish this sooner. Through Ingrid’s lawyer, we have been told that Ingrid is crying a lot, but no more than that, even if we ask. Her family has expressed that she absolutely is not capable of going through such an experience given her mental state, and it has a potential of inflicting her with irreversible damage.

 Japanese police and justice system has been criticized for years for being very corrupt, for it’s irresponsible practice and for systematically violating the human rights. These complaints come from human rights organizations, activists, law professors, radio and TV stations, researchers, psychologists, doctors, newspapers, previous convicts who have later been proven innocent and those previously employed in the police force and justice system.

Japan claims to solve 99,9% of all criminal cases, something they are very proud of. However, the system never admits fault and system errors. The most common practice in the system is “Forced Confession”, where they force the detained to confess to have committed the crime they are accused for. The more one denies, the more and harder one will get punished.

If the police are unsuccessful in this, they will prolong the detention, something they can do in up to 23 days even without evidence, before they will have to release you if they don’t have any proof.

When you are released, it is common practice that the police will immediately detain you once more, and accuse you with something similar. For example, if you were first accused for “import of drugs”, the next on might be “participation in import of drugs”, the third “national threat of dangerous expressions related to drugs” and so on. They do not need any evidence to do this. Usually, this goes on until the detained breaks during questioning and admits to crimes they didn’t commit, just to escape from the torturous environment. This confession is brought to court, where the accused get their judgement. There is no need for evidence as this point to convict you of this crime.

For every criminal case in Japan, typically at least one person will always be charged. This is to “resolve” the case.

 What we know about Ingrid at this point is that she is not allowed to communicate with anyone but her lawyer. This lawyer was appointed to her by the police that detained her. According a European translator who has worked as a translator during several Japanese questionings, these lawyers are often without experience regarding criminal law. They are used purely symbolically to say you are allowed to have a lawyer, but in practice they have little to no influence as criminal defense lawyers, and are in several cases influenced by the police.

Normal practice at Japanese workplaces are preferably to follow the system without asking questions. In this case, with the police, an authoritarian hierarchy with physical, verbal and mental harassment is normalized and allowed if the orders come from the higher ups, and the public are held out of the know.

Furthermore, when you’re in a Japanese prison, it doesn’t matter if you have been convicted of something you committed or not. You are treated without respect, and under extreme conditions.

To this point, there has not been found any evidence to testify that Ingrid imported drugs to Japan. But because there are only two people involved in the case and the police are prolonging her detention, there is a possibility Ingrid will become the one the police intend to charge in this case.

Questions you might have at this point:

Isn’t Japan a civilized and developed country with high standards?

With all due respect to Japan and it’s population, this sadly is not the case on certain points. Crimes are statistically low, mainly because most criminal activity happens in the underground between gangs, and not to civilians in public. But innocent people are convicted every day here, and sadly Japan operates with systems that are technologically outdated, and an abuse of power. Our communication with Ingrid is exclusively through the lawyer that relays our messages to the police, which is only available through fax. E-mail and phone conversations are not available.

The Japanese justice system operates exclusively with judges and never with a jury. The mentality is to get a case solved as quick as possible, without much consideration to the justice. Judges are promoted based on how quick they can solve cases, without regard for the quality. This pressure creates and illusion that every case is investigated and solved correctly.

How serious is this?

Of all things, a drug conviction is one of the things Japan is the strictest about. The penalty is high for little, and if a case is first created, even if there was never any evidence from the start, practice is that at least one is convicted.

Can’t Foreign Affairs or the Embassy do something?

No. The police are legally responsible for Ingrid, so neither embassy nor any other organization can do anything legally. The Embassy can first open diplomatic negotiations when a person is convicted. However, there is no guarantee these will succeed, and Ingrid can risk several years of imprisonment for a crime she never committed. As of current, me and the family are in dialogue with the Norwegian embassy.

How can we know she is not guilty of what she’s been charged for?

Ingrid’s test results for drugs have not tested positively. No log exist that can verify any order, communication or anything else that indicate any request of such a package. The only “evidence” the police has is a parcel they claim was sent to “Alexandra”, even without her request to have it sent. Ingrid is detained for being a friend of “Alexandra”. ¨

Ingrid does not consume alcohol, tobacco, nicotine or narcotics, and has never done this previously. She has never had any friends or contacts within any criminal networks. According to her family, she is a person that has never wanted to or been in trouble, and could never challenge the law or other organizations, whether it be formally or informally. The family also claims Ingrid takes distance from drugs and other substances such as tobacco etc. and has done so her entire life.

Personally, Ingrid is the last person who could have done something like this out of everyone I know.

Another important thing to notice is that the autism diagnosis is not very well known in the Japanese society, comparatively to the west. A large portion of the population here, professionals and non-professionals alike don’t know the diagnose and its behavioral spectrum, and Japan is even known to treat most diagnoses chemically, for example is autism often treated by “Happy Spray”.

Ingrid has a different body language from most people, for example she gets easily shy and uncomfortable when it comes to direct eye-contact. We believe this to be much of the reason the authorities are keeping her, and that they are using her as bait.

What can we do?

From the family, and for me as Ingrid’s friend, we ask you on the deepest to share this. From activists, journalists, organizations and others that have previously been involved in similar cases have we been advised two things: to acquire a good, private and independent lawyer with good knowledge on criminal justice, and publish about this in social media and the newspapers. Our hope is that Ingrid’s case can get enough attention in social media and news media, so we can bring this to Japanese media and explain that this is an important case for those of us at home, and that people from all places care about these things, and we hope they will write about this. The consequences of the Japanese media writing about this can potentially have a huge influence and result in Ingrid’s freedom. We hope to get media on our side, so the authorities will be pressured to negotiate.

We have created a crowdfunding-page to finance a lawyer to defend Ingrid, since this will cost us several thousand kroner every hour (10kr is roughly 1$ or 100yen). In this case, the family will be able to communicate with the lawyer directly in English, as the current lawyer only speaks Japanese. We wish to document where the money went in the aftermath as a testament to our gratitude, and to testify that this money was not spent on anything else.

The police and the lawyer in Japan have denied documents sent by Ingrid’s father who is a docent at University of Stavanger where he teaches purchasing and contract law, with an education in law and trade. In these documents he also refers the international purchasing law, which both the country of origin of the parcel, Norway and Japan is a part of, and the father of Ingrid deems it irresponsible to accuse two people who have no knowledge of the sending of this parcel, when the police doesn’t have any other incriminating proof. This is also a human rights violation.

I have expressed a wish to support Ingrid’s family, in hopes that my social network can help to reach out with this story to any persons, politicians, institutions and others that might be willing to help, and that we from there could give this case bigger attention. At least this is my hope.

Ingrid’s detention has been prolonged for ten more days from November 30th 2019. According to her lawyer, it is likely that this process will continue for a long time coming, where they in practice will prolong the detainment for months in sequences of 23 days (10+10+3). He further expresses that Ingrid is risking at least 5 years in prison.

Ingrid has no knowledge of that there are people on the outside working day and night to help her, since we cannot reach her and have personal information relayed. All the family wants right now is for Ingrid to be treated fairly, and for her to come home from Christmas safe and sound.

We therefore ask you humbly to share this message, and hope as many as possible will be able to crowdfund a lawyer for Ingrid. All resources will be greatly appreciated.

 I have included some sources to describe the conditions told about in the text. From both Ingrid’s family and me, thank you so much for taking your time reading this!

Crowdfunding:

https://www.gofundme.com/f/aprep-ingrid?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=m_pd+share-sheet&fbclid=IwAR0rVTZb3Qe0SYiG7XrovPxG0H8KZEi20UStIIlD-C3Q_-lsM0vHpQpCU9Y

 Guilty until proven innocent: A documentary about the Japanese justice system and its dark side

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yYJpc2y37oU&fbclid=IwAR3GaGkFYltVO1D2soHQ_IIHaQnvz5AplmhcFLai4B0nnaQVcFc0hQva7Sw

 Why Japan’s conviction rate is 99% | The Economist

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yFINmgSzK6E&t=0s&fbclid=IwAR06RgwVlOOd6vMYEtco9whVUs9bvKjMj9skUczh7vwBbJE9o50h-SVJXeA

 Research articles describing the interrogation process in Japan:

https://www.researchgate.net/publication/282617040_Japanese_Interrogation_Techniques_From_Prisoners'_Perspectives?fbclid=IwAR05ei4olZs7fPgweIbM6xLEbWMMos4FfJpMnFGUa02XK0Om2l8Pxtk3yCE

[gilmesc1]

It's time...

Here we go. More points on the fish blog. Part two. Insert more words here. Ok, so pretty sure I have read their entire blog and was quite disappointed in the lack of fish themed content.

God fucking Dammit Gil you're supposed to be respectful rn.

Anywho, I also took a look at other people who both agreed and disagreed with the angry fish. @vide0-killed-the-radi0-star seems to be one of the most current anti angry fish advocates and since I agree with a lot of their points just gonna tag them, cover all the bases because tumblr.

First point: the fish has their moments. They actually do have some useful facts about surviving abusive parents. So we're not dealing with a fucking idiot, give them credit where credit is due. However I say some points for a reason. Our lovely fish seems to be very hit or miss with their posts. Secondly as mentioned in the first post they umbrella term the shit out of everything.

Gonna use an analogy (I think this is an analogy): Autism has a spectrum, as does npd. Not every trick works for all of us and sometimes making the wrong move actually increases our power. Example A, their post about making their abusive parents back off by insulting them back. This is a risky move people. I and many other sacks of horseshit (aka people with npd) absolutely LOVE it when our victims fight back. It makes it fun. And if you insult us we then can use and exploit your attack to our advantage, as we can also then retaliate because you started it. Some of us are itching for fights. It could be voluntary or involuntary, as people with npd have triggers as well. So start a fight with a wrong one and you could have screwed your self We are very very meticulous. Not to be a narcissist or anything (god arent i hilarious) but we're smart. We don't just insult. We choose insults carefully. We study our victims and analyze them. So yes the fish has good stuff BUT be careful. All people are unpredictable and you don't want to rush into shit unprepared.

And now my next point for this post. This is all speculation on my part so bear with me. I analyze people always and after getting faced with a whole blog heres what I got: Our dear fish is obviously a victim. An angry one, dare I say furious? Fish is a damaged person. A mix of emotional scars and festering emotional wounds. I will say they are very tough. They are fighting for their right to live safely. That is respectable. However fish has a big target on their back with some neon letters screaming COME PICK ON ME. Many other narcissists like myself also state that they have an eye for people who make great victims. Fish is one of them. Despite the talk about fighting back they are still vulnerable. Honestly they are one of my favorite types of people to play with (shit person remember) The ones that fight back for some are exciting. It's a toy with batteries and pretty lights. This isn't all that makes fish a damn magnet for people.

They are very forward with their claims and views and while some are correct some are so hysterically wrong they look ridiculous to even the most neurotypical of people. They need to read back and look at some of the things they've written. However I doubt they can. They're like never going to change their mind so no one should waste their time trying to change it. Brick wall. Finally theyve left themself wiiiiiide open. I mean honestly. Stating some of the things they do is just screaming COME AND GET ME which they have received obvious backlash for. (Asks are completely off) They technically "attacked" first meaning I could go up and cry my little eyes out saying they hurt me soooo much and I'm sure a lot of you would back me up. Side note: I have the emotional range of a hurricane meaning that some days I'm numb af and others I cry over dumb shit. Just because I'm finding this whole thing funny doesn't mean others do. I'll write more in the next post I make cuz this is long. I am trying to be polite but yikessss. Sorry fish.

[cllynchauthor]

That post you made was a mess, just fyi. 1) I went through the thread you linked, and I found the authors reasonable and respectable. The playwriter's worked with people with disabilities for 10 years, and it's clear he cares about the issue. 2) The fact Lawrence is a puppy isn't automatically pejorative. That's how art works. I haven't seen the play, but it's probably a metaphor for the teen's lack of agency or something like that. Also writing something a certain way doesn't mean you -

“- approve of it. Have you even seen the play? 3) Please stop pretending anyone represents the autistic community and that you guys speak with one voice. It’s seriously dehumanizing to think a large and diverse group of people shares the same views. In that view there is an autistic man who loved the play - I guess his voice doesn’t count because he disagrees with you?”

--

I love this anon message because it contains pretty much every argument that people are using against the autistic folk protesting this play. 

Like, I’ve been watching #puppetgate unfold since day one, read the reviews, read the responses from @allinarowplay. You think I haven’t heard these points before?

I’ve read them so many times now in tweets and reviews that your message just looks like one of those ransom notes that are made from cut and pasted words out of the newspaper.

But since Tumblr is new to #puppetgate, SURE, let’s address them! 

First of all, my #puppetgate summary was a truthful, if flippant, tl;dr of the past two weeks’ worth of Twitter drama. 

I apologize if my brief humorous take on a complex and nuanced debate didn’t meet the standards of a random stranger on the internet. 

Let’s discuss it in more serious detail.

1) You can care about an issue and still handle it really poorly. No one doubts this playwright’s intentions. But, as you say, he was a CARER for 10 years. That doesn’t mean he understands how it feels to be autistic and in fact, ableism is built right into ABA and other therapies used by carers. 

So yeah, he cares. And he still made an ableist play.

Also, the thread you mention was BELOW the video I linked to wherein the puppet designer says, and I quote:

“Laurence is non-verbal, and the power that puppets have is that they explore movement and with a turn of their head or a small movement they give life and character that you wouldn’t achieve with a human actor.”

Which is why I snidely summarized their position as 

“ This puppet is going to be SO MUCH more like an autistic child than a human could ever be!”

https://twitter.com/allinarowplay/status/1092410318960148481

Also, there is a brief shot of their script in that video at 2:19 and if you pause it and look at it you can see that the parents are joking about how their kid is like a puppy.

“Shits wherever he wants” is clearly visible.

This is the stuff the positive reviews consider funny, honest, and brave.

According to reviews, the child is present in the background throughout most of the play. Which means they talk like this IN FRONT OF HIM and this is never brought up as an issue/problem. 

In fact, non-autistic reviewers don’t even seem bothered by it, probably because they share the common misperception that non-verbal high needs autistic people don’t understand what is going on around them. So…. yeah. I don’t care how well meaning the playwright was. 

The playwright consulted the National Autistic Society and they told him they couldn’t support the play “due to its portrayal of autism, particularly the use of a puppet to depict the autistic character alone.”

But he didn’t change his mind about the puppet.

https://www.msn.com/en-gb/news/uknews/critics-say-new-play-that-uses-a-puppet-to-portray-an-autistic-boy-dehumanises-those-with-the-condition/ar-BBTk5kC

So again - sure, maybe he cares. But he also wasn’t willing to change his vision despite the warnings of the Autism organization that he was hoping would endorse his play. 

2) Of course a puppet isn’t inherently pejorative. For one thing, the autistic community is very positive about Julia, the autistic muppet on Sesame Street.

The outrage involves a lot more nuance than that. First of all, it’s the choice to make the puppet grey and ugly. This was obviously an artistic decision. The first version of the puppet has black hair too and no eyes, just dark sockets like a skull. 

Not exactly Julia.  

And even with that, I was on the fence and willing to wait for the reviews to come out before I made a judgement. 

Like you, I thought perhaps it would be made clear in the play that his puppet-ness and greyness represented lack of agency. And maybe the designer was thinking that way. 

But if that is the case, it does not come across. 

In fact, the reviewers who enjoyed the play repeatedly dismiss the controversy by saying that the play “isn’t really about Laurence.” 

https://www.timeout.com/london/theatre/all-in-a-row-review

“The production is also about the situation, rather than about Laurence himself.“

https://www.thereviewshub.com/all-in-a-row-southwark-playhouse-london/

“sadly the grey-faced puppet adds nothing to the production that a living actor – adult or child – could not have provided.”

I’ve read a LOT of reviews of this play by now. 

Reviews from mothers of autistic children who feel a kinship with the stressed, unhappy, dysfunctional parents. 

Reviews from people without a connection to autism who feel like they learned something. 

Reviews from autistic people and disabled allies who cringe at the ableism. 

None of them - NONE of them - allude to any kind of symbolism or thematic point running through the play which justifies or explains the puppet or its weird appearance.

And the reasons for the puppet given by the playwright, director, and playhouse make very little sense. 

In that promotional video I linked to they say that the puppet can communicate better than an actor could. I disagree. So does a non-verbal autistic mime who commented in the thread below. 

They also say that it allows them to avoid being offensive or stereotypical, which makes little sense because they still had a grown man grunting and flapping on stage, just with a puppet sprouting from his waist. 

They repeatedly argued that they couldn’t use an autistic child, as if acting wasn’t even a thing. They repeatedly argued that a human actor couldn’t do the sounds and movements, even though a human puppeteer was doing just that.

My favourite one was the review (linked above) that argued that “Laurence isn’t a character a person could play (neurotypical or not) as his autism is so particular and at times violent.”

...Has this guy never seen Titus Andronicus? 

A person can play ANYTHING.

On Broadway I have seen human actors play cats, lions, baboons, and witches. 

On multiple occasions a fine-boned actress has been used to play Peter Pan. I’m pretty sure you could cast a small actor to play a pre-teen boy. Then the play wouldn’t have attracted so much negative attention.

As for “writing something a certain way doesn’t mean you approve of it.”

True. 

My fans can tell you that my main character spouts a fair amount of ableism. They’ll also tell you that this flaw is addressed openly and resolved as part of her character arc. 

They’ll ALSO also tell you that the “villains” of my story embrace ableist ideals. So yes, I wrote ableist stuff. But you can tell by the waythese things are framed how the writer wants you to feel about them.

No, I haven’t seen the play because I don’t live in the same country as it and it would take 12 hours to fly there. But I read what people write about it and I draw my own conclusions.

And the fact that ableist jokes are punchlines does not endear me to the playwright or the puppet. 

You say you haven’t read the play, and from the sounds of it you haven’t read many reviews either. 

If you think it’s wrong for me to criticize it after watching all of this unfold over days and days, and reading a dozen reviews by people who loved it and people who hated it, then how is it right for you to defend it?

3) Aw, look at that straw man lying on its side! You did a good job there.

Nowhere in my puppetgate summary do I claim that 100% of autistic people feel the same way.

I was summarizing what has been going down on Twitter over the past two weeks. I know because I was there. Don’t believe me? Actually spendsome time on the puppetgate hashtag and the actuallyautistic hashtag and see what people are saying.

And of course less than 100% of #actuallyautistic people feel the same, but I want to point out that at the time of this writing, my #puppetgate summary post has nearly 11K notes, all of them expressing disgust at the idea of this play.

Autistic people are disgusted. Autism allies are disgusted. Even people with no connection to autism can often see why this is effed up.

Yours was the only message I have received trying to defend the idea of a play featuring a messed up family arguing, discussing bukkake, calling their child a “puppy” using language which results in the play being rated as 16 plus... all in front of their eleven year old…

But what really bothers me is that somehow people come out of there identifying with the parents and thinking that it is “brave” and “honest.” 

They blame autism for what it has done to this family.

THE DAD SHAT ON HIS WIFE’S PILLOW AND BLAMED IT ON HIS OWN SON.

And the really sad thing is that your lonely messages in my inbox didn’t contain a single unique thought. I’ve been seeing those tired excuses and straw man arguments all over twitter for weeks.

They don’t stand up.

I’ve performed in theatre. I was willing to withhold judgement until more details about the play emerged. 

I was hoping they would say something brilliant and profound about what life is like for an eleven year old child with autism who is being sent away because his messed up family can’t stand it any more.

But facts are facts… they didn’t.

All they are doing is telling audience after audience that it is funny to insult your autistic child in his very presence and that autism wrecks marriages.

You can understand why a LOT of autistic people would be a bit sensitive about that kind of message.

It doesn’t have to be everyone. 

[juliabohemian]

Can We Take a Joke?

Recently I have been thinking a lot about what it means for something to be offensive. A few years back, a favorite comedian of mine lost his prestigious job, working alongside a duck, as a spokesperson for a large healthcare corporation because he tweeted a joke that some people (or perhaps an entire nation of people) found offensive. 

This particular comedian is notorious for joking about topics that are really touchy. I have been a fan of his comedy since the 80s, probably since before I was even old enough to be watching his shows. I have never been offended by anything he's said. The reason being that there is not an ounce of maliciousness to be found there. He doesn't come across as hateful. Just tactless. Almost to the point where it's so ridiculous, that you know he isn't serious.

Gilbert Gottfried is notorious for joking about topics that are really touchy. I have been a fan of his comedy since the 80s, probably since before I was even old enough to be watching his shows. I have never been offended by anything he's said. The reason being that there is not an ounce of maliciousness to be found there. He doesn't come across as hateful. Just tactless. Almost to the point where it's so ridiculous, that you know he isn't serious. 

Gilbert Gottfried has always appealed to me because of how bravely and stubbornly he refuses to yield to social conventions, which I personally find exhausting. Growing up as a neurodivergent (I have both autism and ADHD) I would often say things that offended other people and could never seem to understand where I’d gone wrong. I felt like I was running some kind of obstacle course, in which the rules were constantly changing. I was fascinated by watching Gilbert on stage, being true to himself despite whatever heckling he might endure. It took me years of navigating around other people's feelings to figure out how I could still be me, without causing others distress. I am still working on it. 

Which brings me to my first point, which is what does it actually mean to be offended? We’ve all been offended at some point, whether we like it or not. Basically it means that something another person said or did triggered an emotional reaction in us that we did not enjoy, and after some analysis (or no analysis) we came to the conclusion that the source of our emotion lay entirely outside of ourselves, rather than consider the possibility that some portion of our reaction was the result of our own trauma or emotional baggage.

So, what is it that makes people feel the need to censor other people? It comes down to control. Just so you know, we don’t have any. The sooner you embrace that, the happier you will be. The problem is that, for the most part, we tend to feel helpless unless we take some sort of action. It gives us the illusion of control. When, in fact, we cannot control what other people say or do. Not really. If you don’t believe me, have some children and you should be thoroughly convinced. At the end of the day, we can only control ourselves. And most of us can’t even do that.

That being said, censorship actually began with conservatives and evangelicals. That’s not too hard to dissect. A major component of their ideology involves monopolizing the moral high ground. They devoted a great deal of energy to protecting humanity from such dangers as homosexuality and promiscuity and women wearing pants and having jobs. Things like that. And they had that gig for a few thousand years until, sometime during the last 4 decades or so, there was a paradigm shift. The right passed the censorship torch to the liberals. Or the right accidentally dropped it while they were looking for Obama’s birth certificate. Either way, it now seems that the left is attempting to do what the right could not, which is to police the world and rid it of its ills.

Bearing in mind, of course, that I consider myself as liberal as a person can possibly be. I find that while I often share the views of other liberals about what is and isn’t offensive, I don’t always agree with them about what, if anything, we should do about it.

Which begs the question, when should a reasonably intelligent, emotionally mature person be offended? And I think it really does come down to a few factors, primarily intent and context. These things are really important. Who told the joke and why were they telling it? Who is the target of the joke? Are we laughing AT them or WITH them?

A Jew telling a joke about jews is not offensive. And if you’re not Jewish, you don’t get to have a say about it. A black man joking about what it’s like to drive around a strange neighborhood, while black, is also not offensive. Neither is a white person joking about it, frankly, so long as the point of the joke is how ridiculous it is that a black person even has to deal with that shit in the first place. 

When the target of the joke is a member of a marginalized group and the purpose of the joke is to commiserate with that person, then it’s not offensive. It only has the potential to be offensive when the person telling the joke is a member of a privileged group (male, Caucasian, Christian) and the target of the joke is not. Note, I said POTENTIAL. Because sometimes jokes that fit that definition aren’t offensive. They’re just not funny. In which case, that situation usually takes care of itself.

I have found that almost all comedy can be divided into two categories: drawing attention to that which is obvious or doing the exact opposite of what people are expecting. Most stand-up comedy falls into the first category. Which is why stand up comedians talk about things like relationship woes, airplane food, having kids etc. Because poking fun at experiences that large groups of people can relate to is a practical choice when you are dealing with an audience of total strangers. Especially when those strangers are your primary source of income.

The thing about comedians is that most of them don't genuinely believe what they are saying. The audience knows this. Or at least, they should. Comedians often adopt a persona when they take the stage, which differs drastically from their real life selves. Do I think Gilbert Gottfried is happy that Japanese people lost their lives to a horrible tsunami? Not for one second. Do I think that he was amused by the events of 9-11? As a lifelong resident of Brooklyn, I seriously doubt it. I think he was doing what he's always done, what we ALL do, which is to make jokes about things that are uncomfortable, in order to alleviate the discomfort. That’s what comedians do. In fact, we RELY upon them to do it. We RELY upon humor to help us cope with tragedy and trauma.

Which I can relate to on a very deep level because I have been through some pretty horrific shit in my life and I have always been the first person to make a  joke about it. There have been times in my life where I have been telling a story about something terrible I went through and the other person was clearly uncomfortable with my making a joke about it. I could tell, just by looking at them, that they wanted to be offended. They wanted to claim that moral high ground and let me know that I was being inappropriate. But they couldn’t because it’s MY LIFE AND I WILL JOKE ABOUT IT IF I WANT TO.

Getting back to how to know whether something is offensive...I was watching a documentary called Can We Take a Joke? which was specifically addressing the topic of people being offended by comedy. Within the documentary there was some footage of a young man at a college doing some (and I use this term generously) stand-up comedy in which he was disparaging women's studies as a major, after which a woman in the audience (who he called a loud mouthed cunt) ran on stage and told him to shut up. 

This is a perfect example of when intent matters. How is this young man different than a comedian who is simply joking about something uncomfortable in order to alleviate discomfort? Simply put, he believes what he is saying. Not only does he dislike women’s studies, he dislikes women in general. He is drawn to the stage out of a desire to have a platform for expressing that disdain. And that came across in his act because, well, he didn’t try very hard to hide it. 

Can the concept of women's studies be funny? Absolutely. There are many jokes we could make about women's studies and gender studies and other similar academic majors. I could probably do an entire 30 minute routine just on social sciences in general. But this young man wasn't drawing attention to the obvious, which is that often these majors don't lead to any specific career path. He was simply expressing disdain for women. 

Is that offensive? Well, yes. Disdain can be funny, so long as it isn’t the product of bias towards an entire group of people. Disdain for having a cold, for instance. Disdain for being stuck in traffic. Disdain for women, however, isn’t worthy of laughter.

But is the appropriate response to run on stage and demand that he be quiet? No. The level of anger expressed by the woman in the audience was, shall we say, disproportionate. She seemed a little unhinged. Although, it’s possible that she already knew the young man or that they had some sort of personal history. Either way, the solution, if there even is one, is to ignore him and stop giving him attention. Is it fair to be offended by someone who seems genuinely hateful? Absolutely. But it isn’t always appropriate, productive, or even possible to take any sort of counteraction. 

Not only that but I think there is no real danger that this kid will ever break into the comedy business for real. So, he will likely have to look to some MRA themed subreddit for further validation of his misogyny. Unless the next loudmouthed cunt that storms on stage kills him, of course.

When Mr. Gottfried made that unfortunate tweet about the tsunami in Japan the internet crucified him. People actually said he should die. Which, to me, is a far worse statement than any jokes the comedian has ever made. I was furious, not only with the general public, but with other show business personalities who refused to speak up on Mr. Gottfried’s behalf. In hindsight, I realize that they were probably terrified that they would be next on the chopping block. Which says a lot about us as a society, I think. 

But I don’t think the problem is that people are too easily offended. The problem is that too many people lack critical thinking skills. We need to be willing to ask ourselves whether something is genuinely offensive, or if the topic of it simply evokes negative feelings for us because of our own individual experiences. We need to be willing to step away and resist the urge to take everyone else with us. We also need to accept that sometimes there are genuinely hateful assholes in the world and that silencing them is not always an option. 

If something genuinely is offensive, what should you do about it? 99% of the time, the correct answer is nothing. Now, I'm not talking about hate speech. I'm not talking about propaganda. I'm talking about some comedian, shock jock, TV personality making a joke that you found offensive. You can certainly blog about it, if it makes you feel better. But after that you should avoid that person, their material, their show etc. Because, clearly it is not the right entertainment for you.

I feel that way about King of the Hill and Family Guy. But since I am capable of acknowledging that those things are amusing to other people, I am able to refrain from launching a campaign against their creators under the guise of making the world a better place for everyone.

TL;DR Gilbert Gottfried is a national treasure and should be protected, like the Grand Canyon. AFLAC knew exactly what they were getting when they hired him and merely fired him due to the pressures put in place by late stage capitalism, which dictate that anyone working for a profit seeking entity is at the mercy of public opinion. Shine on, you crazy diamond.  

[happyhealthycats]

Not an excuse

Okay, so literally everything I’ve been saying, to me, has sounded like excuses. So I’m sorry if this comes off as either whiny or over-explaining, because I’m trying really hard to reiterate the fact that I’m not trying to make excuses for myself. It’s the old villain explanation of “it explains it, but doesn’t excuse it” (or the more modern Brooklyn 99 “Cool motive, still murder”). I’m explaining my fuck up.

Under the cut is some discussion about my mental health (which may involve certain eating triggers. I have tagged this as “anxiety”, “autism”, and “aspergers” because I’m afraid any further tagging may draw unwanted attention, so please, if you have a tag request, do not hesitate to let me know and I will add it). There’s also some discussion of cannabis, so if that makes you uncomfortable, again, let me know how I can tag this better so it’s okay.

First of all - I really want to thank everyone for reaching out - both positively and negatively. I will get to the messages. Eventually. When I’m okay. I’m going to explain that part now.

The easiest thing to relate to (I feel) is my anxiety. Yes. A lot of people have much worse anxiety than I do and function much better with it. But a side-step is also explaining my medication. 

I have tried REALLY hard over the past few years to put up a professional filter to keep my personal opinions separate from this blog. Over the past few months, that’s been harder to do. I’ve recently changed my medication I was on about 27 pills per day prior to the switch, and I was still unable to leave the house. I was on...just everything. Something to help me eat, something to help me with nausea IF I ate, something to help me with the cramping caused by the nausea which was caused by eating, a daily anxiety medication, an as-needed anxiety medication, something to help me sleep...

You get the idea.

So when it became available in my state for anxiety, I signed up for my state’s medical marijuana program. It’s been amazing. I’m not trying to sell anyone on it. My traditional medication had not been working after years of attempts. I’d been on meds since I was 6, and for the first time in my life, I felt relief. I have one very clear side effect. I sort of...don’t have that filter that the anxiety caused me to build. It leads me to say dumb shit. Which, again, sounds like an excuse. I’m absolutely not trying to win people over into medical pot. It works for me, that’s all I can say. (Please see doctors and therapists to help with your own anxiety issues to find your own solution. If that also happens to be medical marijuana, that’s great! If it’s another prescribed medication, that is equally as great!)

Now, during my feline nutrition course, the class went on and on about raw food diets and how great they were, and how vets just didn’t want us finding out the secret to true pet care and that’s why they didn’t support it - (ding dong, this is wrong). I was proud that I didn’t fall for it. That I trusted vets more than these other folks. They weren’t selling anything, and the information was honestly good, and the professor doubled back a lot and encouraged vet involvement with any BARF diet. But our text book also had some information about vegan cat diets (I’ll give you a brief run down of when that can work - never). So obviously I was INCREDIBLY wary of a lot of stuff. I thought I had gotten some good information about pet nutrition, though. I learned how to read a label in depth. I thought I knew how to calculate the proper calories for a cat as per their general body score and activity level. I learned how to calculate the amount of actual protein in a food. I learned how many calories a nursing queen needed.

WELL that’s where the whole “I used to have a very carefully formed filter until I said FUCK IT” came in. I honestly billed myself knowing a lot more than I did. I came off as cocky to someone who was legitimately trying to help, and in the meantime, got some professionals involved and put out a lot of shitty information. The information that was given to me was skewed with a semi anti-vet rhetoric behind it. And while I was so happy I didn’t fall for the raw diet craze of the class, I still slipped into the general fallacy that somehow, vets don’t have the best lives for our pets in mind.

In addition to that anxiety, I also have ASD (I’m not sure if I’m phrasing that correctly. When I was diagnosed, it was “Asperger’s”, so it’s been a while). Either way, my communication is sometimes not the best. When I get stressed out, I get upset, and I have a really difficult time properly conveying what I want to say. While it’s easier when I type, it’s still REALLY hard for me sometimes. A lot of times I will go back and try to fix what I type, but because it’s Tumblr, there will always be some version of my screw up out there and available for anyone to see (unless, idk, someone puts a female presenting nipple on it). 

I am not, by any means, trying to garner sympathy after this situation. I was absolutely wrong and I take the full weight of that responsibility. I’m just trying very hard to deal with it in a way that isn’t completely unhealthy. My original lashing out and being upset was a knee-jerk. I came off as whiny, and frankly immature. Again, I’m sorry for all that. 

My schooling doesn’t even begin to cover the amount of work DVMs do. Like not even scratching the surface. I learned VERY specifically, about cat domestication, cats and human interaction throughout history, most importantly, cat development and cat behavior, along with cat training. I have never, and will never claim to know as much as a vet. My knowledge is INCREDIBLY pinpointed. At cats. Specifically Felis catus. (So no, I don’t know why tigers do the thing). 

I am going to strive to promote healthier pet guardian/vet relationships. They’re absolutely essential. I’m afraid any of my nay saying will discourage people from seeking veterinary help, and that is absolutely the last thing I wanted to do. I was going to write a whole thing about what I meant in that dietary post, but honestly I think it goes against the very spirit of the apology to turn around with “Well what I meant to say was ______’, because I don’t want to lessen the meaning of what I’m saying. I will say a lot of stuff did NOT come out the way I meant it to, which again, is entirely my fault. 

My job begins after the vet visit. Every week in class, we had a sample behavior issue that we had to give step by step instructions on how we could possibly help our imaginary cat and human function together. Every single week, my answer started off with “After the guardian works out all other possibilities with a vet...” - I seem to have forgotten that very strict viewpoint that I held onto. Your vets are busy saving your pet’s lives. I’m busy helping you try to save your couch.

I guess I just really needed to type this out. For myself mostly. I appreciate everyone reaching out, both positively and negatively. Honestly I doubt I’ll delete the blog. I just need to focus on not answering questions for a little bit.

I’m sorry if I came off as defeatist. It’s a really crappy defense mechanism I’ve picked up and I’m trying to be better about it. Just clearly not to the point where I can do it when it matters (whoops). And again, I’m not trying to pull a blame game on my medication or mental health. I’m not. At all. My actions are my own. They are flawed and I’m trying to be better. But my course to being better is a little unique and I have some stumbling blocks.

I love you all and give your cats their desired form of affection from me.

[finderskeepersff]

13.

Picking up Bryce and placing him on the bed “wait there, we will be going back soon” I am so tired, I have been rushing around helping Sofia move her things, we had to get a removals van. She has too much shit, she even had to go back to her home because she wanted her bed covers, like why. But all was good, her mom was not home so she just took them. My parents are back and so is Celine asking for Bryce but obviously he is here with me as I try to somewhat help Sofia with putting things away “C!” Bryce shouted, turning around “yes?” he pointed at the table behind me, turning around “you want a twizzler?” he done already had one, reaching for the packet “last one, and actually I am glad. You reminded me that I need to take this table out of the room before Sofia kills me” holding out the Twizzler “what you say? You say thank you boy” he took it from me, he didn’t react to it but what does he know “look at you teaching him manners” placing the packet in my back pocket “yeah, I try. But I was just getting the table out of the room for you” I lied, I totally forgot “it’s ok, when are you exactly going to bring your things?” I paused “erm, I will just need to go back because Celine is waiting for him. I mean most of the things are done, the couches are coming soon so you going to be ok with that? The guys will help you” climbing over the table “I will be fine Cassius, you go. Leave the table, thank you. You have done most of the work because I have been busy with work and you did it all thank you” I sighed out “it’s ok, as long as you’re happy so am I” Sofia smiled behind me “I am going to miss him, I won’t lie. Even though he doesn’t speak, he shows so much love. I have enjoyed seeing you be a man, show him love and feelings. I will miss him” looking behind me, Bryce sat in the same spot just eating the Twizzler “I will miss him too, I am sure after two days he will be back. Celine doesn’t know how to look after a child” feeling a kiss to my cheek “I am just so happy, we actually moving together and that is amazing” I grinned turning my face to Sofia “it is, it’s scary too because then you going to keep an eye on me” I chuckled, Sofia squinted her eyes at me “you damn right, remember we have the games night at Ivy’ and you are coming” I scoffed “but we have just moved here, I mean why? Y’all never stop” Sofia giggled “because that’s what friends do, it’s fun and you are coming” I guess I have no choice “come on Bryce, let’s get your shoes on. Time to go home baby” Sofia is so sweet to him.

Pulling up outside the crib, Celine’ car is still here so she has been waiting for him “you ready to go and see mother of the year” unbuckling the belt, I assumed he was awake but clearly not. He always falls asleep with car journeys, grabbing my phone from the side panel and then turned the car engine off. My phone screen lit up, seeing my lock screen picture and my smile grew. It’s a picture Sofia took of us and Bryce, I actually love it. I am so happy I got to know Bryce, instead of ignoring him like I did. He only wants some love, getting out of the car and closing the door. First of all my mother does not even know I am moving, I may just take overnight bag and have some clothes in there for a few days before I can then break it to her. I know she will be sad, she likes to have us close by. Dragging open the passenger side car door, crouching down “Bryce! Hey there little guy, wake up” touching his face. His eyes lazily opening up and then he smiled “you waking up for uncle” his little arms stretched out “aye! There you go” picking him out of the car, placing him over my shoulder. His head instantly rested onto my shoulder and his tiny arm held me, my heart warmed. I have grown close to him, kicking the door close. Feeling him lift his head up “are you awake now?” placing him down on the ground “you can show mommy new glasses and shoes” holding his hand, she is a bitch and I can’t stand her.

Pushing open the door “you going to run in?” I said but Bryce didn’t let my hand go, closing the door behind me. Josiah walked out with a drink in hand sighing out “she is driving us crazy. Saying that you kidnapped him and I set her straight, I was like you dumped your child on us and that shut her up” shaking my head as I walked into the living room “my grandbaby!” my mother spat, Celine the dramatic little bitch she got up and ran towards us “what have you done to him!?” letting his hand go “to him? More like what have you done to him” I swear I could cuss this bitch out, she crouched down “why have you got glasses on him?” rolling my eyes “because he needed them, he has never been so happy to see. You dumb little bitch, he was forever scared. I took him because you was too busy getting dicked in Miami” Celine got up from her position and then pushed at my chest “oh you angry now? You can’t even take care of him” my mom grabbed her arm “you do not touch my son!” hearing Bryce cry “you are a bastard Cassius, now you want to play uncle? Didn’t want to claim him first did you” I sniggered “claim a child that is not mine? Are you dumb? Celine, we coming for you. You can’t look after him, you think it is normal he doesn’t speak!?” Celine turned on her heels “he is my son!” she screamed out, she can’t even hug him and he is crying “that you can’t even look after” she grabbed his hand but my mother grabbed Celine “I will beat you so hard, you will let me soothe him!” my mother shouted at her, I am glad my mother did that.

My dad waved me over, Celine hates us but my mother is feeding Bryce “yes?” walking over to my dad “what happened while we was in Idaho?” walking outside with him “I spent time with him dad, that is it. Friends came over, Bryce was forever struggling and getting scared. He worked on voices and he knew Josiah and I but when he heard other people speaking and he didn’t hear us, I was shouting him and he couldn’t see me to come to me and then I waved. It’s not normal, he got glasses now but I think he got Autism or something, he needs help. You and mom need to get him out of that situation, I am serious with this” My dad nodded his head “if you don’t then I will” my dad looked over at me in shock “I will, he needs a loving home. You both have never been in that apartment of hers, I have. I ain’t saying this for Jordan but for him” my dad placed his hand on my shoulder “I will speak to your mother, this is concerning. We had our doubts but we will, but quietly. Don’t speak on it with Celine here, she is not nice” my dad got a point.

I will miss Bryce so much, I have taken this little man everywhere with me recently “come here” waving him over, he ran to me. Catching him and placing him on my lap “you going home now, you going to miss C? I know you loved me and Josiah, we fed you McDonald’s all week” my mother gasped “I hope the hell not!” my mother spat “I’m playing, we fed you right, but I am going to miss you shouting C in the morning” placing my hand up for him to high five, he proceeded to high five me “I got you” hugging him “anyways, let’s go. Come on Bryce” Celine said, my mother got up “come on baby” she picked him up “bye” waving at him, he waved back at me and I feel so sad. Like he’s been part of my day which is weird, its been a week but it felt longer “I am going to miss him” Josiah said “same, I hope he’s ok with that bitch” Celine deserves shit.

I am so in love right now, I cannot believe I have an apartment, never did I think I would be with my boyfriend either in this place. The place is pretty much done up, only things we got new was the bed, couch and then we bought a TV. I say we like I paid for anything but I feel so bad, so I paid for the grocery food shop and the utensils I needed. I finished off the place and now I am just waiting on Cassius to come home, he will take his time with whatever he is up too right now. I can’t blame him though, it does take a few hours to get there and come back. I am not about to get too dressed just because it’s only Ivy’ place, have a few drinks and play some games. I am just so tired right now but I am determined to go, I promised I would go but now I am just waiting for him. I have never been so content in life with what I feel right now, hearing the door close, that does mean he could be back “it’s me” hearing Cassius say, he placed a duffle bag on the kitchen counter “what is that?” I asked as I got up “some of my things” pulling a face “what do you mean? Some of my things? Are you not moving in with me?” he grabbed the duffle bag “clearly I am here” he walked off towards the bedroom, he is moody.

Cassius and I are not speaking, we are just quiet. I am so annoyed. He comes with a overnight bag, is he not staying with me. What is even doing right now, the car ride is quiet but I wish to not speak to him when he just walks in with a bag, a bag with some clothes that won’t be enough “so you tell me now” I couldn’t help myself “you tell me now, are you not moving with me? You are just letting me stay there on my own? Is that what it is Cassius? Tell me that now, you just going to keep me there and go back to Brooklyn?” I want to know “why do you just jump? You make up shit in your mind, no! I ain’t staying in Brooklyn, I couldn’t be bothered to explain to my mother about it all. I am staying with you” crossing my arms across my chest “knowing my luck you will just be out every night” catching Cassius shaking his head “your point is? At times I will be out. Just relax, women just stress too much” rolling my eyes, he think I will be ok with him having just a simple duffle bag with shit, men are annoying.

Closing the car door “don’t take it out on the car, wow” mean mugging Cassius as I turned around “excuse me?” I said all offended “you banged the door shut” watching him walk around the car as I looked on all offended “not like it’s the new car, oh I forgot. That was to clean your money” walking off “aww shiit, bub is being petty” waving him off as I walked towards Ivy’ house “look at this nice house” changing the subject “mhmmm, I don’t get why you so upset about a bag when I am going to be with you. It’s not the deep Sofia, just relax” knocking on Ivy’ door “not that deep? Ok Cassius, we shall see” facing the door, I wish she would open up “I still love you” the door opened “welcome, welcome!” Ivy spat, Cassius makes me feel bad. He’s so calm about me even talking back to him “hey bitch, I know we late. That is his fault” walking into the house “Steven Spielberg? He’s the guy with Cerebral Palsy right?” everyone screamed out laughing at Olivia “you mean Steven Hawking?” Kenton said through his laughter “Oh fuck y’all, Sofia! You finally are here” I wish I was here for the conversation because it seemed so funny, everyone is in fits of laughter “what did you do?” I asked but clearly Olivia don’t want to speak on it.

Sipping the wine, watching Cassius intently. He is ever so loud and slightly drunk already, I don’t know how that happened so quickly when he is my ride home. He looks so happy laughing with the boys “Ivy, I am shocked you allowed Cassius to smoke weed?” I thought she wouldn’t allow such a thing “oh that doesn’t bother me at all, I like having it myself at times” Ivy got up from the couch “move the table! We're gonna play Twister!” Ivy shouted “who’s going up first?” Mia asked “not me, I’ll pass. I hate the game” my body isn’t made for that type of shit “I’ll go” Cassius put his hand up “we ain’t in school nigga” I said “it’s called manners, something you lack” he retorted, he is not that drunk as I thought then “sassy!” I spat, he is being feisty.

I decided to join but soon regretted my choice when I found myself on my back, my legs half twisted, one arm all but wrapped around Cassius back and with no really safe place to look “and we officially have Cassius and Sofia in a sex position, ding ding” hearing Kenton say, stifling out a giggle. Our bodies became flush together “you stink” I mumbled “do I though?” he retorted “yes” he was going to kiss my lips but I moved my head back “you going to regret that” moving my head smiling, Cassius kicked my legs which caused me to fall “Cheat! He cheated” Sofia shouted “we didn’t see it, Cassius won” my mouth hung open “he kicked me though!?” I hate them all, jumping onto Cassius as he fell a top of the mat. Cassius just laughed aloud knowing he cheated “I could have won that” lowering my head and nipping his ear with my teeth “you mad!” he spat laughing.

Cassius pressed a kiss to my lips “you still mad about the duffle bag?” I scoffed “you damn right!” waving him off “will be back, hopefully you are over it by that time” Cassius walked off, he thinks I will “why you mad hoe!?” Mia asked “because he said and I quote, he is moving in with me. He went back home and he came back with a damn duffle bag, like what happened to moving in? The fuck” Olivia yawned “you whine too much Sofia, this nigga just paid for rent. Leave him be, just be happy and get some dick! You ain’t been fucked, that is why you all uptight. I was thinking. Since y’all moved to New Jersey. No need to go Atlanta” Olivia got a point “I think Cassius wants too, I don’t know. See how it goes but I do need to get some dick, maybe that is why I am uptight but it just annoyed me” Mia cackled “you upset about the wrong things sis, you need to be more upset why you ain’t at home getting good dick. Stop the plan B too, you don’t need to work he got you” these girls are crazy “Sofia!” LLoyd shouted at me as he walked in “Cassius is trying to drive, he over the limit even though he ain’t that drunk” I shot up “he got a phone call and he went crazy” running by LLoyd “Cassius, you can’t drive. Tell me where you want to go bro!” Kenton dragged him back “Cassius, hey. Move” Moving Kenton “Cassius, what is wrong?” Cassius pushed by us opening the car door “Hey!” I shouted him “what is wrong? You can’t drive” standing in front of the door so he can’t close it “what is it? Speak to me, I am not letting you go” I don’t understand “speak to me!” I shouted at him “it’s Bryce! I got to go!” he shouted, my face dropped hearing the panic in his voice.

[the-mira-life-project-mtf]

Gender Dysphoria

                                   Intro To Gender Dysphoria

     Gender dysphoria is described and experienced as the mental distress due to discomfort with one’s assigned sex at birth, and they desire to live either as the other sex or a mixture of the two. The condition of gender dysphoria is common among LGBTQ individuals, although it should be noted that being transgender is not itself a condition or mental disorder, nor do you need to be gender dysphoric to be transgender. Not all LGBTQ people have gender dysphoria or experience their dysphoria in the same way: some are uncomfortable with their assigned sex, their body, their presentation or privilege. (PERSONAL NOTE: My dysphoria seems to be focused on my body and the presentation, however I have no issues with my assigned sex. In the last 10 years, society has certainly gave me time to think about my white privilege and have punished me for who I am.)

     The most common symptom of gender dysphoria is that it is linked with our gender as society announces it and our biological sex assigned at birth. The distress of dysphoria might make the individual feel ‘trapped’ inside their own bodies, ‘disconnected’ from reality, ‘alien’ from what they look like on the outside, but what they should be on the inside. (PERSONAL NOTE: When I look at myself in the mirror or I look at my body, it is like looking at a stranger, looking at skin that I could not be in. Inside, my mental image was gender fluid~shifting from male dominate to female dominate. As my image solidified, I appeared more female then male however, my eyes only see a male with a few feminine characteristics.)

                         Diverse Experiences Of Dysphoria

     First off...the understanding of gender dysphoria is best described: Incomplete. So what exactly is dysphoria? Outside of gender dysphoria, it is hard to find a useful definition to describe what it exactly means. Gender dysphoria is actually a whole spectrum of mental and physical disorders: Anxiety disorders, personality disorders, depression, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, insomnia, PMS, stress, white male privilege, autism spectrum disorders, bullied, misogyny, homophobia, PTSD, sexual trauma, autogynephilia, peer pressure, munchausen disorder, needing to please a parent, parental divorce and discomfort of body changes during puberty.

     Understanding the causes of dysphoria isn’t anywhere close to expressing what it feels like. The question you should pose to yourself: ‘How does it present to you?’ You will not find an official symptom list used my doctors or find much information on the internet. Wikipedia describes it as ‘a state of feeling unwell or unhappy; a feeling of emotional and mental discomfort.’ According to the Australasian Psychiatry regarding dysphoria: ‘The current semantic status of dysphoria is most unsatisfactory. Its definitions are usually too broad or too simplistic and, therefore, not clinically useful.’

      Those who are in distress; who want to understand what exactly they are experiencing finds that the definition of ‘feeling unwell’ or ‘mental discomfort’ are not very useful. They already know that they are not feeling ‘well’ and their brains can’t seem to understand the mental discomfort that causes the personality to suffer. To label Patient 1 as gender dysphoric does not mean that Patient 2 exhibits the same reactions, thus making the diagnosis invaluable to the patient. For example, my girlfriend who is bisexual claims that her dysphoria is due to autism, bipolar disorder and schizophrenia. Whereas my dysphoria is due to parental divorce, anxiety and peer pressure. We both suffer from gender dysphoria, however our symptoms are entirely different.

     Once we identify that we are suffering from gender dysphoria, we have to make the difficult task to understanding it and determine if transitioning is something that could help us cope. Do we transition by the process of just labels, mental changes or physical changes.

                    Importance Of Recognizing Dysphoria

     First! How do you know that you are actually experiencing gender dysphoria? How do you distinguish something that has no set symptoms or tests to measure your likelihood that you are suffering from dysphoria? It is easy to mistake gender dysphoria for who you naturally are. You might think it’s part of your innate personality or physical characteristics and is just something you will have to learn to cope with. This internal struggle can delay recognizing that you are actually LGBTQ. (PERSONAL NOTE: My lifelong struggle to even realize I was gender nonconforming was delayed by my upbringing, social lifestyles and accepting my thoughts and anatomy for what it was. Religion and family added further blocks. When I felt dysphoric, I just thought it was just me; a natural phase that everyone went through. The real extent of my gender dysphoria became clear during the transgender movement here in Washington State which forced me to reflect my deepest struggles. By the time I was in my 20s, my desire to influence physical feminization and prevent masculinization grew to a ‘sickness’ that made my anxiety worse. It was only then did I realize I was gender nonconforming through the aid of my bisexual girlfriend.)

     Once I realized that my internal image wasn’t matching my physical body and I dreaded my masculine side due to my abusive father; this lead to mental feminization as I desired to correct my biological and anatomical mistakes. It was only in the last three years did I realize I was experiencing gender dysphoria as I failed to recognize it due to three blocks: Ignorance for homosexuality, Religion and fearing of going to hell and Family expectations and their vocal hatred for the LGBTQ community. The longer I tried to pretend it did not exist only made my anxiety worse, fear of intimacy with another and soul sickness.

     Doubt is something that all LGBTQ individuals seem to have in common. They first doubt that they are actually transgender as they don’t recognize the symptoms. They might face a great deal of confusion and anger as to why they feel this way and find that medication does not help to relieve the mental anguish. They might doubt their feelings as they are afraid of what their family and friends might think. Nevertheless, doubt always seems to be the one symptom that will plague a LGBTQ individual through their initial gender dysphoria, post ‘coming-out’ and even into transitioning. 

     Even right now, you can’t run a diagnosis on just doubt, discomfort and unhappiness. It is much more. Those who suffer from gender dysphoria; reading this article, might agree with only 50% of the symptoms and have symptoms never even considered. Gender dysphoria, like any mental or physical condition changes and evolves from patient to patient...however, simply acknowledging it is the first step to understanding the condition.

     Again, as mentioned earlier in this article, not all trans individuals will have all or any of the signs of gender dysphoria. Some might not even have a single sign of dysphoria...they might have been simply born into a LGBTQ environment or society. Some people have more obvious gender-related symptoms whereas some people have more obvious non-gender-related symptoms. Also, you can suffer from gender dysphoria and not be transgender; but fall in a new spectrum of LGBTQ that defies the current understanding of transgenderism. The only thing that seems clinical about gender dysphoria is that once it is treated accordingly, the symptoms seem to resolve or lessen in severity.

      The overall dogma of gender dysphoria has been tabooed by society which has lead to many cases of gender dysphoric trans doing self-harm like turning to alcoholism, drugs and death. The ‘fear’ of the unknown has made transgenderism a disease to those who oppose it and law to those who welcome it...birthing a new form of hatred that has been divisive around the world. Science and research will not study the phenomenon out of fear of offending either group of people. And politics and religion continue to use the LGBTQ as pawns and control. Like any idea, written word might one day help cis-people understand how damaging gender dysphoria can be if left untreated and how important it is to treat it as you treat any condition.

                                   8 Signs Of Gender Dysphoria

1) Continual difficulty with simply getting through the day.

(Personal Note: As humans, we are social creatures and make a life around family and friends. Imagine finding this hard to maintain as any form of stress can trigger the dysphoria. I found myself being unhappy with my life. Everything I did seemed to be in defiance to who I was. I felt out of phase, spending more time inside myself where I felt complete and being irritable and annoyed with the real world. I had to write stories to release the stress to get through the day and even tried to mentally impose the image of my gender nonconforming self over my male form which made me uncomfortable and overall disgruntle to do anything.)

2) Your emotions feel misaligned, disconnected or estrange.

(Personal Note: I would find myself crying whenever I was being reprimanded or called out for failure. I would be called into my boss’s office to be informed of my performance and I would tear up which made me angry as ‘men don’t cry!’ I would have to hide away as I cried hard and I did not understand why. I called it a weakness, a hormonal imbalance and punished myself for it. Besides crying, all my other emotions seemed turned off; I did not laugh when a joke was told, I did not cry when my grandfather died right before me. I did not show much compassion to the patients I oversaw. However, the smallest things would make me cry and I hated it as I felt depressed for the rest of the week as I had to hide my feelings.)

3) Feeling you are just going through the motions in everyday life, as if reading from a script.

(Personal Note: Some days I would walk through life feeling like I was in a dream...as if I was in a made-up world. I even wrote many articles on dreams as the dreams felt more real then the real-world. I would look at myself in the mirror and it was like looking at a stand-in for me. I could see some characteristics I recognized, but the body I possessed felt...fake. I began to identify myself as ‘we’ in my writings and verbal language as it was the only way to express myself without feeling disconnected. To do anything as my male-self felt wrong and I found joy in things that my family considered feminine like nursing, caring for children and just being an avid listener. I disdained military-life, labor-centered jobs that required muscle strength and mathematic-dominate jobs. All jobs that the men of my family held.) 

4) Life seems pointless, and there is no sense of any real meaning or ultimate purpose.

(Personal Note: It look a lot of effort to find hobbies and when I found one, I did not really enjoy it...I was just killing time...trapped inside my thoughts. I went through life marking off the calendar...death even seemed inviting as I wasn’t thriving, I was just living. I wanted purpose, but I found nothing but failure. I learned a lesson: If you are not comfortable with yourself, you are not comfortable with anything. Having a terminal disease had me thinking: Is this all life has to offer? I want to be comfortable! I want to be content with myself and only then can I make a difference. As I merged with my feminine side, I began doing more things for other people to change their lives and it gave me purpose. I began to do the things I liked as I was no longer retreated inside my head, but living life outside.)

5) Knowing you’re somehow different from everyone else and wanting to be normal like them.

(Personal Note:  As a child, I did a lot of observing and wondered how they could just go throughout their days talking, laughing, calm and happy with everything. At one moment, I feel like I should play rough like all the other boys, but also show compassion and emotion that had me bullied as a child and caused making friends almost impossible as I was ‘weird’. I knew I was different! How many boys had tits? How many boys hated sports and preferred the arts? Singing soprano until I was 21 years old also did not help my case! I purposely removed myself from social interactions as I was afraid that they would see through me or question my true self that did not match the skin I was dressed in. By the time I was in my late 20s, I began to wonder: Maybe it isn’t me that is different...it is the world! The more I acted like my true self, the happier I was and I noticed people seem to enjoy the quirks from time-to-time.)

6) The symptoms escalated during puberty.

(Personal Note: Prior to puberty, I did not really care about what gender or sex I was. I played with both Hot Wheel Cars and Barbie Dolls with no care in the world. Due to the medication I took, I developed in the chest; but paid no mind to the sexual organs I had from birth. That however all changed around the age of 13 when I began to question my existence and gender. I saw myself as a combination of the two genders and expected puberty to deliver those results; however it did not. My mental image did not match my physical image and I tried to adjust. With my radical emotions and social upbringing, it only made my dysphoria worse. My family upbringing to hate gays and lesbians as they were a disgrace in the Lord’s eye and spawns of Satan only scared me. Why was I having these thoughts, why did I desire to be seen more as feminine than masculine? Was I possessed by the devil? Would I burn in hell for denying the person the Lord wanted me to be? It only made me struggle with accepting that somewhere on the LGBTQ spectrum...I fell.)

7) You attempt to fix this on your own through coping mechanisms.

(Personal Note: Even to this day I would never admit out in public that I’ve been down this road when my dysphoria went bad! It is always much easier to talk about this via writing-prompt and I can honestly tell that I’ve done my share of coping mechanisms to ease the pain of dysphoria. Many turn to drugs and alcohol to ease the pain...I did not...as they were not available to my person at the time and built a fear of booze and drugs to keep me clean. For many years, it was my writings that got me through it, then it was writings and art. When my desire to appear more female then male hit me, I would wear breast forms to give me what I was missing. However, when my family found out...it nearly lead to suicide as I took a handful of pain meds which luckily only made me vomit and damaged my liver in the process (if you are considering suicide, please seek help. It is a lonely road and leads to pain and suffering of you and the ones that love you!  National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-8255). About 9 years later I left prosthetic’s behind and turned to hormone replacement therapy to slowly correct my body.)

8) Consider resolving these symptoms through either Hormone Replacement Therapy (HRT) and/or Sexual Reassignment Surgery (SRS).

(Personal Note: Transitioning isn’t something you should take lightly and consideration is needed prior. Try transitioning by dressing up, appliances or mental projection before taking drugs or going under the knife. If you move to quickly, you can end regretting your decision. My first form of transitioning happened when I was 13 years old as I needed to find something safe to wear that would not label me as ‘gay’ so I wore robes as a dress and it helped me great through high school...but wasn’t a solution as I was just a man wearing shower robes. When I entered collage, I identified that one of my dysphoria’s was the lack of breasts and I bought a breast form and wore them at night as I slept as I could hide my transformation from my family. When my family found my molds, I was greatly punished and threatened to become homeless and found that this transformation was too obvious and I began to hate myself and tried to kill myself, but failed. After recovering and feeling the dysphoria grow, I began dating a bisexual woman who allowed me to be who I was and our relationship went as far as my dysphoria would aloud. By the time I was 33 years old, I received my terminal diagnosis and decided that the only way I can escape this fog was by chemically transforming through the aid of HRT. Lately, I have began to consider SRS, but find that my family will not accept and as long as I live under their house...I can’t transform...but will make this transformation (hopefully).)

                                        Analysis Of H.R.T.

     The consideration of hormone replacement therapy wasn’t lightly. I had considered it for three years and even tried bovine ovaries to see if I could adjust. BO was a terrible idea as it did nothing but made me sick. I tried to ignore the thoughts and desires to transform, but when I turned 33 years old, I made the decision that the only way I could stop the depression was through the process of H.R.T., but I had to be careful to not let my family know I was trying to transform. For three months, nothing happened...I lost almost 30 pounds of weight as my disease nearly took my life and I was off H.R.T. for almost 2 months and began to doubt my actions.

     I found that to stay dedicated to HRT, you need achievable goals. I found satisfaction in taking hormones and felt that I was bridging my genders to what they are suppose to be. My attitude and demeanor changed greatly as I found that I could smile and laugh. I cried when appropriate and felt emotions that I’ve suppressed. I became willing to form relationships and emotional.

     When I was conducting my HRT, I felt my symptoms dissipate and I desired to transform further. At first, I wanted to do 6 months of hormones, then I wanted to go 50/50 and then wanted to become more female and less male. The longer I was under the illusion of HRT...the more I wanted to complete my change. I wasn’t certain if it was the drugs or the idea of taking them.

     As mentioned if past articles, it might have been both. HRT over time will influence the brain and transform it. However, taking the pills also is a ‘hope’ that the discomfort and feeling unwell will end. And to be truthful, it did! Taking hormones is the greatest indicator that you are suffering from Gender Dysphoria if the symptoms go away...however, the more obstacles you have in your way, the unlikelihood you will continue it.

     At six months of HRT...I felt peace...I felt like myself. I no longer was hiding from myself, I could cry and feel appropriate about it. People called me by my name and I felt it was me. I became connected to the person in the mirror as I was slowly merging with my mental image. I felt that there was nothing ‘weird’ about me and went out to parties and made new friends. With my testosterone lowered and my body developing, I felt like I was gaining back years dysphoria took away from me.

                                                  Conclusion

     In conclusion, please note; these signs aren’t shared by all LGBTQ. Every person’s dysphoria is a little different, and transitioning can have different effects on each and every one. But it seems that a significant portion of trans people, whether their dysphoria is clearly gender-related or non-gender-related. Since gender dysphoria can not be labeled or treated as a condition at this time. It is up to you, the patient to make the decision.

     The great thing about Gender Dysphoria is that considering transitioning is usually the only goal and most LGBTQ individuals never turn back to what they were prior to transforming...even if they give up on their HRT regiment or deny they fall on the spectrum of alternate genders. Gender Dysphoria, in the end, is treatable and you do not have to suffer any longer.