#Recovery Programs

[ptlinkphysicalt]

Returning to work after an injury or health challenge can be overwhelming, both physically and mentally. For individuals who are undergoing rehabilitation, Transitional Work Therapy (TWT) provides a structured and supportive way to ease back into their professional roles. By prioritizing both physical readiness and mental adaptability, TWT helps bridge the gap between medical recovery and full workplace reintegration. Here, we’ll explore why Transitional Work Therapy is essential for a smooth return-to-work transition, and how it benefits individuals, employers, and the community as a whole.

[antiwhores]

Bakugou seems to have an entitlement to you.

Even though you verbally express how much you hate his guts, he still tells other people that you’re his. It pisses you off more than anything.

He’s been like this since middle school. He bullied you but when someone else tried to do the same he’d loose his shit. He would corner you and dump out your entire book bag. Then you’d have to scramble to pick up the items on the floor. He would even kick some stuff away as you reached for it. Your teeth clenched at his laughter from your frustration because apparently knowing you couldn’t do anything about the treatment was so fucking hilarious to him.

That wasn’t even the worst thing you’d have to deal with from him. Even so, he’d still find a way to boast to everyone that you were his. He’d even walk you home, kicking stones in your path the entire time.

The bullying got slightly better in high school but the entitlement got worse.

He wasn’t insufferable with his treatment anymore but by then you’d hated him too much to care. He would purposely piss you off in the most casual ways. He wasn’t bullying you, he was just annoying you. It’s as if he needed you to remember of his existence.

He’d stand too close, stare relentlessly, use your stuff without asking, sit next to you uninvited, shoulder check you in the hallway, trip you, etc. It was such light treatment that you sounded absolutely crazy explaining how much you hated him for it.

You were talking to Mina about it one day and she wasn’t as understanding as you hoped.

“Wait… you think Bakugou is tormenting you because he’s showing interest in you?”

You sighed heavily,

“No, he’s not showing interest in me. Well, he’s always had interest in me… but the only thing he’s interested in is making my life terrible!”

She laughed,

“Maybe he just wants you to give him a chance. You know, he is telling everyone that you’re his wife.”

You spat out your water at that. Somehow you upgraded from girlfriend to fucking WIFE? He was surely trying to ruin your chances at teen romance just because of this stupid unwarranted grudge. You couldn’t let this happen!

You let it happen. You find yourself now, twenty years old, looking back at school with frustration. You never got a boyfriend (At least not one that you agreed to have). You hadn’t even had your first kiss! Even worse, you were still a virgin! Even worse x3, you still saw Bakugou way too often.

Somehow, whenever you were on patrol, he’d pop up. He was aggravating with his words as he followed you down the street. Your speed walking could never live up to his strides. He caught up to you easily, no matter how fast you paced.

“Why were you talking to that creep at the donut shop?”

It was so ridiculous of a question that you couldn’t hold back from answering.

“Because I wanted some fucking donuts. Also, he’s not a creep.”

Bakugou scoffed,

“I saw how he looked at you while he made those creme filled donuts. He was probably thinking about how he wanted to creme stuff my girlfriend too-“

Your face heated as you cut his vulgar comment off.

“If anything, you’re the creep for even insinuating that he was considering that! Also, I’m still not your girlfriend!”

He gave an annoyed sigh,

“When will you stop saying that? ‘I’m not your girlfriend’. We’ve been over this since middle school. You’re also my wife.”

You were too tired for this. You had hardly any sleep last night because of the mountain of reports you procrastinated and you haven’t eaten since yesterday morning. You only had an hour left of your shift before you could go home and power off in your bed. You hoped that you could even drive in this condition.

“Stop following me. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”

“Watch your step dumb-“

When did you even get on the pavement? And why were you in an alley? Your eyes struggled to stay open as you were dragged up from the concrete.

“What the fuck? When’s the last time you slept?”

You didn’t even have the energy to argue with him. It felt good to lean against him after dragging your feet all day.

“I dunno.”

Everything went blank after that. Now you’ve found yourself in an unknown bed, in the middle of the night. You’ve never felt more relaxed in your life, whether its from the comfortable mattress or the strong arms wrapped around you.

Wait… arms?

You spring up at the realization that you have no idea where you are. You quickly look around to find exits but it’s too dark.

“Fucking relax, its just me.”

Bakugou’s voice, and you just now realize, his smell too. Bakugou grabs you before you can fully jump out of the bed.

“Let go of me!”

“You can whine about this in the morning. I’m tired and I know you’re tired too. Sleep.”

He cradles you in his arms so securely that theres no chance of you getting out. Your panic switches to fatigue at his body heat. The way he begins to play with your hair and the sound of him breathing have you surrendering faster than you’d care to admit. Your eyes flutter shut against Bakugou’s chest.

Maybe you can be your bully’s girlfriend just for tonight.

[creature-wizard]

A warning for trauma survivors looking for online support

You may have come across the acronym "RAMCOA", which stands for "ritual abuse, mind control, and organized abuse."

If you search the Internet for RAMCOA, you might come across a result like this:

If you click the link, you'll be taken to a site that briefly describes what RAMCOA supposedly is, with content like:

MC - Mind Control. A shortened form of TBMC, standing for Torture Based Mind Control. MC is also known as programming, where victims are repeatedly tortured starting at a very young age to intentionally cause a system of dissociated parts that function perfectly to suit the abusers' needs.

alpha : a base program, one of the very first implemented. it trains the victim's mind to accept every order given by handlers willingly. parts with alpha programming will often have no will of their own, and very little personality outside of following orders.

aiw : alice in wonderland. typically split into 3 different sections : black alice, white alice, and crazy alice. ideally, a system scripted with aiw would have all three. white alice makes sure the system forgets the trauma, black alice makes the system feel like theyll be a danger to others if they remember the trauma, and crazy alice makes the system think theyre making it up or going insane if they ever remember it.

Literally all of this comes from a conspiracy theory - specifically, the Project Monarch alter programming conspiracy. It was developed and pushed by far right conspiracy theorists. Most of what people run into specifically traces back to Fritz Springmeier, a man who claimed in the 90's that the fight for gay rights was part of a plot to enthrone the antichrist in the year 2000. The Project Monarch conspiracy theory was always adjacent to the Satanic Panic, if not a somewhat niche part of it. If you start checking citations, you will find many of these people citing Svali, a conspiracy theorist who gets a lot of her material from Springmeier. (Example 1, example 2.)

This is no accident. The term RAMCOA was created by the International Society for the Study of Trauma and Dissociation (ISSTD), which was created by and for psychologists who believed in the myths promoted during the Satanic Panic.

The RA part comes from "satanic ritual abuse," which was coined by Dr. Lawrence Pazder of Michelle Remembers (cw for descriptions of horrible abuses) fame. Lawrence Pazder is the man who effectively started the Satanic Panic. It cannot be overstated that Pazder, now a known malpractitioner, was considered the expert on ritual abuse during this time.

The MC part comes from "trauma-based mind control," which was coined to refer to the alleged abuses inflicted in Project Monarch. Parts of this conspiracy theory that can't be traced back to Fritz Springmeier can usually be traced back to Cathy O'Brien and Mark Phillips, two other (really racist) conspiracy theorists.

Ultimately, the entire conspiracy theory is constructed from tropes that go back to The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion (a known antisemitic hoax), blood libel, and early modern witch panic.

Searching the Internet for RAMCOA resources, ritual abuse, or trauma-based mind control will always bring you to conspiracy theorists.

(Also, the term OEA, which stands for "organized extreme abuse," will lead you to conspiracy theorists as well.)

So yeah, if you're looking for support, be very wary of this stuff. It will absolutely not help you heal; just the opposite.

[lonestarflight]

Armstrong and Scott with Hatches Open

"Astronauts Neil A. Armstrong and David R. Scott sit with their spacecraft hatches open while awaiting the arrival of the recovery ship, the USS Leonard F. Mason after the successful, but early, completion of their Gemini VIII mission. They are assisted by USAF Pararescuemen Eldrige M. Neal, Larry D. Huyett, and Glenn M. Moore. The overhead view shows the Gemini 8 spacecraft with the yellow flotation collar attached to stabilize the spacecraft in choppy seas. The green marker dye is highly visible from the air and is used as a locating aid."

Date: March 16, 1966

NASA ID: S66-18602

[hateaintwinning]

Unwelcome-ozian's book selling step by step instructions on how to sexually assault a child. Including which sex positions to rape a child in and what to say to a child while raping them. As well as how to gas light, trauma bond, and abuse the child.

Link to free copy of Rules of Programming - you can see for yourself.

In light of unwelcome-ozian publicly abusing a teenage girl I wanted to put a spot light on this. This comes from someone who claims to have been taught how to abuse children, and is now teaching other people I guess? Presenting it as raising awareness for the sake of survivors of child abuse, but after what been brought to light about them this is a lot more disturbing.

It provides step by step instructions on how to gas light and trauma bond a child to you after / as you sexually abuse them.

They are currently threatening to post stories of a teenage girl being torutured and sexually assaulted, along with her identifying information without her consent, again. In retaliation for her coming forward about her experience with them.

They are undeniably well aware of the damage and trauma they are inflicting.

They openly give "tips" on how to abuse children.

[unwelcome-ozian]

[ruvviks]

sweet sunshine girl ☀️ ↳ shots by the talented @mojaves, edited by me!

taglist (opt in/out)

@velocitic, @lestatlioncunt, @euryalex, @ordinarymaine, @bialanwake;

@mojaves, @shellibisshe, @dickytwister, @mnwlk, @rindemption;

@ncytiri, @calenhads, @noirapocalypto, @florbelles, @radioactiveshitstorm;

@strafethesesinners, @fashionablyfyrdraaca, @aemondtargeryen, @radioactive-synth, @katsigian;

@estevnys, @elgaravel

[poeproductions]

We just adore this sweet kakapo fursuit! 🥺 Did you know there are only 247 kakapo alive today!? You can contribute to their conservation by adopting one through the Kakapo Recovery Program!

Who's your favorite adoptable kakapo? We love Waikawa. 🥺 https://www.doc.govt.nz/our-work/kakapo-recovery/get-involved/adopt-a-kakapo/

[perfecttragedyflower]

Baseline of emotions seems to be level 3 guilty constantly trying to consume me and be a level 5

[actualalienfauna]

Honestly life has been hard lately but I'm trying reeeeaaally hard to find glimmers. I'm doing an IOP program for my anxiety and I'm really looking forward to it.

[coining-system-terms]

Nonrecovered ITBC Survivor : A survivor of ITBC who isn't currently recovered but is working toward it

Flag Meaning: The cracks show the trauma responses due to the ITBC, this especially refers to alters and dissociative barriers. The shades of purple and pink show the losses that result from the torture, and the conditioning itself. The light grey represents the memory loss and amnesia that the brain uses to cope, a lack of knowledge and a lack of self. The center stripe represents not being recovered from the trauma.

[archive-z]

it’s post-yr-wip wednesday, so enjoy more scenes from my forthcoming follow-up to krapp’s last tape, this time ft. events from the viewpoint of alice molloy, 1985-1989 ✨ all yr canon-typical content warnings for disordered substance use, pregnancy trauma, AIDS crisis-related death, child endangerment, codependent relationships with multiple concerning/unethical power differentials, etc.

“What mad Nijinsky wrote

About Diaghilev

Is true of the normal heart;

For the error bred in the bone

Of each woman and each man

Craves what it cannot have,

Not universal love

But to be loved alone.”

from “September 1, 1939”, by W. H. Auden 

It’s 1986 and Alice Molloy sits on the steps of San Francisco City Hall. She has been Alice Molloy for, approximately, the past thirty minutes. She is twenty-five years old. She looks out across Van Ness Avenue, at the War Memorial Opera House. She’s never been to the opera before. She’s never been married before, either. 

She rolls the name around in her mouth: Alice Molloy, Alice Molloy, Alice Molloy. She likes it. She feels like a snake that’s shed its skin, and now relaxes on the warmth of a sunned rock. She wonders how long it will take her to forget that she had any other name before this one. 

There is another her, maybe — scared and strung out — still inside, wandering the atrium. Maybe there is another her buried in a grave in Evergreen Cemetery. 

But this Alice, the one here on these steps, in this waning late afternoon sunlight, is Alice Molloy. She is Alice Molloy, with her newborn daughter, and her new husband, and their second-floor, one bedroom apartment near Buena Vista Park.  

—

December 6, 1985. The CDC recommends delaying pregnancy until more is known about the risks of mother-to-child transmission of AIDS. As of December 1, there have been 217 reported cases of AIDS among children under age 13, and 60% of them have died by the time of publication.

In Paris, their apartment is cold and there’s black mold around the windowsill. Daniel has a persistent cough. Alice wakes up nauseous. 

Three months ago, in San Francisco, Daniel gets an advance for a novel and insists they spend it all right away. 

Though he’s covering with bravado, Alice can tell he’s nervous. He’s never had more than a couple hundred dollars to his name, and never expected to have his sobriety tested in this manner either. 

They book two transatlantic tickets to Paris and a sublet in the Latin Quarter.

Alice wants to chainsmoke at café tables on crowded streets and imagine stories about passersby while Daniel scribbles in his notebook. She wants to go dancing. She wants to see the Mona Lisa. Alice is twenty-four, Daniel is thirty-two.

(Over the past several months, Alice has planned more funerals that she cares to count. She is perpetually in the final hospital visit-cremation-memorial service cycle. As the most junior member of the organisation, her duties tend to be administrative: making payments and filing bank receipts. By cash and by cheque, payments are made to the crematorium, the ambulance, the reception hall, to the sandwich caterers, to the company that rents the folding chairs and plastic table cloths, to the leaflet printers, and the delivery trucks. At the end of it all, someone has to fold up the chairs and turn off the lights. That someone is Alice. 

There is an impersonality to the deaths, she finds. Sometimes people with bring a framed photo of “the deceased” to the memorial service — a sister, a daughter, a girlfriend, a roommate, a friend. When there’s no photo, she often pictures Raequel. Twenty-two now? Would she look older? Or younger? Paris presents itself as a respite). 

Paris’ crisp October turns to a drizzly November and finally to a frigid December. Any argument that sparks between Daniel and Alice is swiftly resolved by swallowing one’s pride and huddling together under their singular scratchy wool blanket for warmth. 

In Paris, Daniel has coughed for three months. He’s smoking his packs twice as slowly because he has to take bone-rattling, hacking coughs after every few drags. 

In Paris, Alice throws up three days in one week. 

(They have both danced around this. It is the heavy, silent thing they neglect to mention. Daniel is sick. Alice is sick. With what — who knows? Fading track marks testify to their rich, independent histories of indiscriminately sharing needles and swapping bodily fluids with, at best estimate, one quarter of the Bay Area’s creatures of the night). 

In Paris, over dinner, Alice tells Daniel she’s pregnant. 

She tells him she’s pregnant and he says yeah. 

He’s staring at the cigarette in his hand, poised over the ashtray and Alice can see the gears turning inside his head. France permits elective abortion up to ten weeks, she can see him thinking. She can tell he’s doing the math in his head. 

She tells him she’s pregnant, and he says yeah. 

They finish their meal in silence, but Alice is too nauseous to keep anything down so throws up again in the brasserie’s toilette. After she’s finished, she presses her head against the cool metal of the cubicle door and then kicks it violently several times. 

When she re-emerges, Daniel has already settled the cheque. He’s got  another cigarette in his mouth, this one unlit, and he’s chewing on the filter, eyes still staring into middle distance, gears still turning. Alice has stuffed her jacket pocket with extra towelettes in case she needs to throw-up in a public garbage can on their walk back to their apartment. 

—

“We both could have it —“ Alice’s train of thought twists and weaves, running the alternatives and counter-alternatives too fast to keep track of until its a circular, tangled mess. “It would be born sick,” she says. 

“We don’t know if we—“  

“But we could. What if it’s born sick? If it’s— if it’s not able to grow?”

“Failure to thrive,” Daniel supplies. 

“I know whatAnd, in a heartbeat of indignation, Daniel ask, “What? What do you want? Do you expect a child to consent to being born?”

“Maybe the hospital finds out! Maybe it’s — taken away from us. Because it’s our fault. How could we live with ourselves?”

“We make a choice. We live with it.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Look.” Daniel presses his hand to her cheek, and his eyes fixed on Alice’s. “If it’s wrong — does it matter?” His thumb traces her cheekbone, over the scar on her eyebrow, where it turns from dark to blonde. “All human decisions are made like this.” He kisses her eyebrow. He sounds surer and steadier than Alice has ever heard him before. “No parent knows what will happen to their kid. What does it matter if it’s wrong? There is no wrong. Just you and me. Me and you. And I want to be with you. Forever.”

Later, Daniel proposes and she says no. Things are falling apart. She doesn’t trust that the centre will hold.

On their last day in Paris, they go to the Louvre. Alice wants to see the Mona Lisa. 

—

San Francisco, 1989. Alice Molloy is twenty-nine. 

A week after the World Series Earthquake, Daniel’s mother calls him from Modesto to deliver the belated news of his father’s passing, the post-script to his unattended funeral. Daniel interrupts the daily pre-school drop off routine in order to purchase a self-obliterating quantity of heroin. 

It’s thirteen hours before Alice finds him. When she finally does, he crawls to her on his hands and knees. He clutches her legs, sobbing, shaking, and high. She says nothing to him, and her cool and implacable assessment of the situation is this: I take care of you, I’ve always taken care of you. I love you, I’ve always loved you. You and me, me and you. Daniel would not die here. Their dance would not end like this.

Her fingers grasp his matted curls, and she gently forces his head back to meet her gaze. With a thumb, she carefully wipes his grimy, tear-stained cheeks. She whispers to him: I forgive you. Of course I forgive you. How could you doubt such a thing? I have forgiven you of everything before now. I would forgive you every time, even this. 

And Alice knew this: Daniel was hers. And he would never runaway from her again. 

Outside, Lena is asleep in the backseat of the car. She is three years old. 

[lonestarflight]

The Apollo 15 Command Module Endeavour (CM-112) prior to and after being brought aboard U.S.S. OKINAWA (LPH-3).

Date: August 7, 1971

NASA ID: link, S71-42024, S71-42037

[lavenoon]

"I trust you."

@naffeclipse hope we all enjoyed the funnies because (:

*self insert is not a girl (he/ she)

og detective au by sunnys-aesthetic!

[khalils-domain]

21 - Elder Emo - Tattoos - Mosh Pits - Vent Blog Completely Obsessed With My Princess @princess-kurosaki / @xoxo-kona-spams💍 - All About Me Below The Line, Follow At Your Own Risk

10/31/2020💍 there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for that girl. Remember that.

Rest easy lil brother @kash-the-krashout 🕊️

Shit To Know 🚨

- Regional Manager for Spencers.

- We Can Talk Cars All Day.

- Anime weeb - Gamer - We follow bands - Horror obsessed

- WWWYF , Vans Wrapped Tour & Rolling Loud Vet.

(There’s not a year you won’t catch us there)

- BDSM Lifestyle

- I survived The Program, currently surviving the Ivy’s.

- Make America Emo Again.

[das-ist-mein-neuanfang]

Reminder that you don't have to label anything. You don't have to keep a journal with every alter of your system and figure every tiny bit out. It's okay to just go with the flow and it's okay to write down something that you think is important to remember. It's also okay to just trust your gut and don't force yourself to anything just because everyone else does. If I learned one thing then it is that the goal is what matters. And if what you're doing is good for the goal (for example better communication) then great. And if you find yourself just losing in it without any progress then maybe it's not helping your goal.

Also just because someone else handles something in x way, it doesn't mean it's helping you too. Maybe y or z are a better fit and maybe z is the one just for you and no one else. Don't stress yourself to fit into something that's not meant for you.