#and yet she predicted how that would take a tool on her mentally. emotionally. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

downtonabbeyrevisited · 4 years ago

Text

Season Two Episode Two

Following a typically chaotic opener, Episode Two of Season Two strikes a far more sombre tone. The arrival of Henry Lang as Robert’s valet brings the first of this episode’s three plot points that address the impact of WW1 on the mental health of its soldiers. There is nothing funny to say about either shell-shock or suicidal ideation both of which are vast, complex issues that, for my money, Downton Abbey isn’t the vehicle explore in (because they require more time and depth than the pace of the plot in Season Two affords) and it certainly isn’t my place to make light of them in this rather irreverent corner of the internet. So I’m going to have a go at treading a fine line here. Forgive me if I stumble.

Lang is clearly in the grips of something awful and yet in an attempt to avoid the indignity of having maids in the dining room, he is bumped up to footman duty. He struggles throughout, culminating in him depositing his cargo on Edith’s dress. Mrs O’Brein has firmly taken Lang under her wing, recognising that he is struggling and offers him assurance and comfort that she has never gifted to Thomas.

Across the Village, Lieutenant Edward Courtenay is in the hospital having been blinded by gas. The use of gas (both chlorine and mustard) had a devastating impact on soldiers in WW1 but was also the root of the development of Zyklon B. Frtiz Haber, a German Jewish chemist, enabled chlorine gas to be used a weapon in WW1 and his research was later developed into the Zyklon process which was used by the Nazis to murder millions, including his own family. This is only one of a dizzying number of appalling ironies to be found in the World Wars but as I said last episode, I’m not a military historian so I’m going to leave it there. Edward had plans to return to the country after his graduation from Oxford to pursue the simple life (although one gets the feeling that his idea of the pursuit of a simple life will still be one that is very well upholstered). Thomas has taken it upon himself to read Edward’s letters to him and together with Sybil is helping him to adjust to living life with a different set of parameters. But growing pressure on the hospital’s limited capacity means that he is to be transferred elsewhere. All three voice their dissent at varying volumes to Major Clarkson who falls back on the very real backlog of wounded men. After Edward has died, Major Clarkson, Isobel and Sybil talk about a renewed need for the Abbey to become a convalescent home, an idea that has been bubbling under the surface for a while now. Meanwhile, Thomas has been left on his own to process both Edward’s death and the implications of witnessing a lack of support given by his own physician to those with depression.

The usually reliably jovial Mrs Patmore also has a more somber episode with her pursuit for the truth about the death of her nephew Archie. Robert finds that he has been shot for cowardice. Not only does this mean that her family is in mourning but they will now have to navigate the stigma and undue shame that came with having a relative die in this way. So entrenched in British life was the derision levelled at those who were shot for cowardice or desertion that it was only in 2006 that pardons were offered by Britain for 309 of those that were executed by firing squad during WW1. I know I said I’d leave it there with the military history, but that felt like an important bit of context.

We are now in 1917 and Matthew is still in the same trench that he was in 1916 (a detail I hadn’t actually noticed until I got the screen cap for this) so it looks like his strategy of downing tools mid-fight and continuously popping back to Blighty for important plot developments isn’t really paying dividends. Perhaps the addition of William to the ranks will help him? William certainly seems to think so and if the speed at which he moves through the various stages of his ‘relationship’ with Daisy is any indication of his tactical prowess, the British Front will not only be well within Germany’s borders but will be breathing down Russia’s neck in a fortnight. In any other episode, this would certainly get the award for oddest relationship dynamic but Sir Richard Carlisle exists.

Sir Richard makes his debut at Downton, having been introduced in name only in the previous episode. He and Mary met at Cliveden which is a regular haunt of mine, giving me hope that one day I too will from a strategic alliance with a newspaper magnate. He may know how to talk his way around a boardroom but he is lacking in the sartorial department. Whilst Sir Richard manages to avoid catching fire in his tweed, Lavinia is not free from the heat as he threatens her with his connection to her uncle. He may not know much about navigating the niceties of Downton, but at least he has cottoned on to the fact that any major disagreement should occur under a specific tree. Whilst Mary’s signature move is weeping into her gloves, Sir Richard’s is grabbing women by the forearm. A female friend of mine told me that one of her favourite things about the pandemic and the compulsion to keep 2m away from anyone (and not just emotionally) is that she has not been ’steered’ by a male hand on her lower back since 2019. It turns out that she can enter and exit rooms just fine on her own and I get the impression that Lavinia could get the gist of Sir Richard’s rage without the vice like grip of a man probably about twice her age.

Twinned with the ’tree of emotional conflict’, the ‘platform of romantic uncertainty’ provides the backdrop for Sir Richard’s proposal of marriage to Mary which is a declaration that really feels like it should come with a series of well-formatted charts. Mary’s heart, however, is still very much with Cousin Matthew. After being counselled by Carson in a type of conversation I cannot imagine her ever having with her father, she is on the verge of coming clean with Matthew. But in the second round of Lavinia vs. Mary, Lavinia declares that she ‘could not go on living’ without Matthew and Mary winds her neck in.

Also having a romantic entanglement this episode is Edith. Drake, previously of dropsy fame, has lost his farm hands and Edith turns up to offer her help in a wildly unsuitable trouser and heeled boot combo. But she soon gets down to it by pulling up a tree stump and flirting in a barn whilst a rather lovely border collie looks on (I’m currently trying to talk myself out of getting a border collie and this incident has done nothing to help things). After showing Drake that she can drink from a bottle like literally every single other human on the planet, the two share a kiss and some highly awkward dialogue that only slightly resembles ‘Carry on Downton’.

Whilst Edith is more than happy to crack on in a barn, Mr Molesley is much more backwards about coming forwards. Apparently having predicted the creation of ‘The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society’, he figures that a book is the perfect kindling for romance when you exist in a glossy depiction of the past. Sadly neither Elizabeth nor her German garden can lure Anna from Bates who is fast shaping up to be schrodinger’s boyfriend. Anna proceeds to make some odd analogy where she compares Mr Bates to her moon-based child, revealing a rather unhealthy amount of codependency in that particular relationship.

Romantic declaration of the moment

Again, it feels like anyone but Sybil and Branson should get this but I am an agent of chaos and here we are. Branson defends Sybil’s will to work and has ample opportunity to see her shine in her chosen field. The admission that she will not be returning to her old life is a little chink of light that Branson basks in.

Expressive eyebrow of the week

I nominate Carson’s entire face when he realises that he has taken on too much and goes an impressive shade of red. As Carson frets about spoons, sauce, and something I can’t quite fathom, he starts to resemble a man who is re-arranging the deckchairs on the Titanic. Carson’s battle to get a cork out of a bottle and knocking into chairs is a warm up to his rather dramatic collapse which is accompanied by a pretty disturbing groan. Sybil springs to action and he is soon efficiently ensconced in his own quarters.

Wait, what?

“I got a lot done on the train” Clearly Richard was on a train that was unencumbered with the wifi issues that plague the Pendolino.

“It takes a good deal more than that to shock me.” Mary’s shock-o-meter is a pretty odd instrument. It is unresponsive to corpses of diplomats but goes into absolute meltdown at the notion that she might have to live in a cottage.

“Let's hope my reputation will survive it.” I’ve not checked (and I categorically never will) but I would put money on the fact that someone has created a rarepair out of this.

“How can Matthew have chosen that little blonde piece?” Is Lavinia blonde? Women’s hair is not really my forte but I would have thought she was more akin to Tim Minchin than 1998 Justin Timberlake.

“I believe in this war. I believe in what we are fighting for.” William seems to have a better grip on what all of this is about than I ever did in high school history. The ‘A’ that eluded me is heading his way.

“I thought he might've died for love of you.” How I love snipey Thomas. It’s good to have him back. To borrow a quote from Bottas (another man who is currently living a life in which his destiny is his own demise) ‘traditions’.

“Fold it in, don’t slap it” The more season two goes on, the more I think that Moira is just an amalgamation of some choice elements of Julian’s kingdom.

82 notes · View notes

chroniclackofselfpreservation · 4 years ago

Text

Creatures of the Night

Chapter 30 - the afterburn of childhood wounds

Back to the Beginning < Previous chapter / Next chapter >

AO3

Masterlist

(TW: mild panic, memories of past abuse, pain, verbal abuse)

(The title of the chapter comes from "Often I Pray" by Michael Sowder.)

Daveigh didn’t waste any time the next morning, practically shaking Patton awake at the first signs of light on the horizon—much to Patton’s displeasure.

“What is it?” he asked, sitting up, immediately awake and concerned.

“I know it’s early, but I couldn’t wait,” Daveigh said, unable to hide her unabashed grin as she rummaged around in the dark. Patton heard the rustle of stiff fabric as Daveigh retied her skirt around her waist, and out of pure instinct, Patton fixed his gaze on the doorway. It seemed everyone on the island had little sense of a need for privacy. Daveigh and Mikhail wore simple skirts made of a durable, off-white fabric—Daveigh wearing a wrapping of similar material around her chest, but nothing more. It wasn’t that Patton thought they were being unseemly, it was just… a bit of an adjustment for him when Daveigh had announced it was time for bed, discarded her skirt, and walked casually across the hut to her woven mat, plopping down and promptly falling asleep.

It shouldn’t have surprised him. Living on a deserted island for as long has they probably had, privacy was likely a luxury they’d learned to live without. He’d just have to learn as well, it seemed. He still wore the clothing he’d shown up in—jeans, a t-shirt reading “famILY" across the front, and his favorite cardigan. The fabric was worn from the harsh salt water and was incredibly dirty, but he couldn’t bring himself to discard them. Not yet.

Patton looked over at Logan, sleeping on his side, curled tightly in on himself. He looked uncomfortable, and perhaps a bit cold. He certainly wasn’t as used to sleeping on the ground as Patton was. He still wore his old clothes as well, jeans and the deep blue polo shirt he usually wore to work. His glasses were gone—which Patton was still getting used to. He didn’t mind, of course... but he’d liked Logan’s glasses. They framed his face in such a nice way…

“Come on,” Daveigh said, dressed and stepping out into the cool morning. “You want to learn how to astral project, don’t you?”

Patton joined her, pulling his cardigan sleeves down over his hands and bunching the fraying fabric in his fists. “Lead the way.”

* * * * * * * * * *

The sun didn’t take long to rise and warm Patton’s back comfortingly. Daveigh had taken him to a section of the beach far from Eudora’s cave and with much softer sand. They sat across from each other, Patton fidgeting his fingers through the sand at his feet.

“Okay, first of all: this event in the past you projected into. You knew someone there? Personally?”

“Yeah, his name is Virgil.”

“And you’re in love with him, yes?”

Patton choked. “I—what? Why would—I mean…”

“I’m in love with Amaryllis, so there’s a chance your powers could have picked up on that, but then why that event?” she said casually, as if she were solving a math problem and not ousting Patton’s deepest feelings. “If it had only been my influence, you likely would have seen something from our time together—but you saw Virgil. Am I right?”

Patton flushed so hard he was surprised he didn’t start giving off steam. “Yes.”

Daveigh clapped her hands together, “Great, that solves that mystery for us. Oracles can do more than just witness the future, like sibyls do. We have a connection to time and space itself. When we form emotional connections with people, especially strong ones, our powers react to that and can become directionalized if you aren’t paying enough attention to what you’re doing,” she explained.

Patton’s brow knit. “What?”

“Your abilities are directly affected by your emotions, and therefore your connection to others. Have you ever had a dream about someone you didn’t know?”

Patton thought back. The only dreams he’d had that weren’t about himself were Merri and Roman—not counting the time-travel escapade last night, of course. “No, I don’t think so.”

“That’s because you don’t know how to control them,” she explained, lifting a finger. “Our powers are designed as self-preservation tools. Whenever an emotionally charged event in the future looms closer, your powers kick in to warn you about it—but they only pertain to yourself or those you care about because, according to your powers, anything else happening in the world doesn’t matter. You have to learn to broaden your perspective.”

“And that will help me stop the dreams?” Patton asked.

Daveigh hesitated. “Stop them? Why would you want to stop them?”

“I mean, not right now, but… eventually, yeah.” Patton wrapped his arms around his knees, the morning sunlight making the left half of his face prickle with warmth. “I don’t like seeing the horrible things that are going to happen to my friends,” he whispered. He glanced over at her. “Do you?”

Daveigh looked absolutely heartbroken. She turned away from him, facing the ocean. “When I opened your mind the first day I met you,” she began, voice soft with shame, “I’d never felt so many mental barriers in my life. I didn’t see anything—that isn’t how our powers work—but watching what reliving those memories did to you…”

Patton tensed. He remembered the feeling of liquid fire coursing through him, every wall he’d ever constructed torn asunder. Memories let loose to wreak havoc as they pleased. He shivered. “That wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know.”

“It was my fault, Patton. I should have asked, and I know I’ve apologized about a hundred times already, but I’ll do it again. Excitement isn’t an excuse.”

Patton swallowed. “Thank you.”

Daveigh took a breath. “Your powers will always be a part of you, Patton. Repressing them will only make them more unruly and unpredictable, but… you’ve really never had a happy prediction before?”

“Not that I can remember,” he admitted.

Daveigh ran a hand across her smooth scalp. “I wish my mentor were here. She’d know how to help you without hurting you so much.”

Patton shifted, unfurling himself from his semi-fetal position. His powers weren’t going away. The sooner he could accept that and learn to control them, the sooner he’d be able to help his friends. “I want your help, Daveigh. I don’t care if it hurts.”

“But—”

“I’m going to help save my friends. All of them. I can’t do that as I am right now,” he said, his resolve building as he spoke, slowly but surely. “I’ve lived with pain before. I will gladly do it for the people I love.”

Daveigh smiled at him. “Okay, but you have to promise to let me know when you need a break, okay? We don’t want another panic attack.”

“Right,” Patton said, smiling back.

“Okay, first we’re going to just have you astral project out of your body, right here on the beach. Sit with you legs crossed,” she instructed, “and place your hands—yes, like that. Okay, now close your eyes and concentrate.”

“On what?” Patton asked, feeling slightly foolish sitting there with his eyes closed.

“You can start with your breathing. Feel your environment around you. Eventually, you’ll feel yourself disconnect from your body.”

Patton opened his eyes. “What?”

Daveigh raised a placating hand. “It’s okay. You’ll be perfectly safe. I promise.”

Patton chewed the inside of his cheek skeptically as he closed his eyes again. “So basically you want me to force myself to dissociate?”

“No. The opposite, actually.” Daveigh said. “Focus on your breathing, and I’ll explain.”

Patton nodded.

“Dissociation is a result of panic and anxiety. It forces the self to retreat deep inside the mind to escape what is happening around it. Astral projection is sending the self outside the mind to perceive things that the body cannot. The two are mutually exclusive. If you begin to feel too much fear while projecting, your body will drag you back in an effort to protect you. In extreme cases, you can rebound in the opposite direction and end up dissociated.”

This is going to be harder than I thought, then, Patton thought, dutifully focusing on his breathing. Daveigh stopped talking, but he could still hear her breathing softly beside him.

Patton wasn’t sure exactly how long he’d been sitting there when suddenly, something shifted. Sounds became clearer and more precise. Instead of just waves washing up and down the beach, he heard the rustle of sand against the push and pull, the trickle of every droplet as waves crested and tumbled over themselves; the wind as it brushed across the beach, picking up an entourage of minuscule particles, parading after it joyously. The sun warming him. Vibrating through him.

Patton felt himself tip forward, as if falling asleep, and he jerked up, blinking in the light.

Daveigh looked over at him, smiling. “Well done.”

“What?” Patton looked down and saw himself sitting where he had a moment ago, but his body was slumped forward, completely limp. He was overlapping his own body in a strange, almost terrifying way. Patton bit down on the fear, remembering Daveigh’s warning. Slowly, he stood and stepped away from his body. Daveigh repositioned it—him?—so that his body lay on its back on the beach. It was odd, still feeling the sun on his face, the warm sand beneath his back, while standing a few paces away.

Looking down at his current state, Patton found himself similar to how he’d appeared with Amaryllis. Shimmering. Angel-like. A little transparent, but not enough that he felt like a ghost.

“I did it!” he breathed, feeling his own voice vibrate through his new astral body like he stood inside an enormous church bell. “Whoa, that’s weird. Helloooo?” he said, testing it out. Daveigh watched him gleefully. “This didn’t happen last time,” he noted.

Daveigh nodded. “You weren’t in control last time, and your mind did its best to keep you feeling safe.”

Patton started. He could hear her twice, from both his own ears and those of his body. He shook his head and Daveigh laughed. That, too, freaked his brain out. “We never completely detach from our bodies, no matter how far we go. You’ll always be able to hear, feel, and smell if you concentrate hard enough.”

Patton held a hand out, studying it. He could still touch his own skin, though it felt smoother; he didn’t pass through his palm like he was made of mist, but looking down, he found he wasn’t making an imprint in the sand beneath his feet.

“Can I touch you when I’m like this?” he asked, reaching out tentatively. Daveigh obliged and swiped her hand right through his arm.

“Unfortunately, no. There are very few things we can interact with while in the astral plane,” she said, standing.

But her body remained where it was, sitting calmly on the sand.

Patton smirked. “How come you get to sit all nicely while I look like someone hit me over the head?”

Daveigh winked. “Core muscles.”

“Really?”

She laughed. “No. When you’ve done this for a while, you’ll be able to astral project and control your physical body at the same time. See?” she said, and Patton jumped when Daveigh’s body turned, opened its eyes, and waved at him before returning to its meditative seat.

“That’s kinda creepy,” he chuckled, looking at his own body warily, waiting for it to spring up and do something ridiculous. “So, it’s like you’re in two places at once?”

Daveigh shook her head, gesturing for him to follow her down the beach, away from their bodies. Patton followed, smothering his nerves in his trust of her.

“It’s more like aiming a crossbow with both eyes open,” she said. Patton gave her a confused look. “No? Let’s see… it’s like reading while you walk. You aren’t putting all of your focus on where you’re going, but just enough not to run into anything. Does that make sense? Typically, you can’t speak or make too complex of facial expressions without really concentrating, but I could get up and do simple tasks while my astral self was elsewhere. That’s a little advanced, though. Let’s just start with putting some distance between you and your body.”

They strode down the beach calmly, Patton simply trying to get used to the sensation of it all. He could feel the ground beneath his feet, but he didn’t sink into the sand or leave footprints. He saw a breeze pulling on the palm trees, and could feel it faintly across his body behind him, but his astral form didn’t react to it, his hair lying still.

Curious, he wandered over to the water and let the tide rush over his feet and ankles. The water went right through him, undisturbed. He did feel the temperature difference though, his feet going cold, but remaining dry. Daveigh stepped up next to him.

“We don’t need to breathe in this form,” she said. “We don’t float, either.”

Patton stopped, realizing that he was, in fact, not breathing. He could feel his body breathing of course, but his shimmering, translucent chest didn’t rise or fall with breath. He started. “You mean we could walk underwater?”

She nodded, smiling. “It's quite the experience. Maybe another time. I think it might prove a little too overwhelming for you to handle on your first time. It can be quite disconcerting.”

“My feet are cold,” he mentioned, wiggling his incorporeal toes.

“We can feel temperature, to an extent,” she said, continuing down the beach.

He followed. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we can’t be injured, we don’t have physical bodies right now, but that doesn’t mean extreme heat or cold wouldn’t be painful,” she explained.

Patton opened his mouth to ask another question, but something flickered in his periphery and he stopped, turning. Daveigh slowed to a stop ahead of him, watchful but unsurprised.

“What was—” Patton started, when something else flashed just out of his field of view and he whirled again.

“Remember what I said about the difference between projection and dissociation?”

“Yeah, but I don’t—”

“Patton,” Merri whispered so close to his ear he could practically feel her breath. Patton yelped and stumbled back a few steps, but nothing was there. Just him and Daveigh standing on the beach.

Daveigh watched him carefully. “I said that astral projection makes the self aware of things that the body is not, that includes being aware of your own mindscape.”

Patton’s breath came quicker now. He felt like he was being watched on all sides. “You mean my memories,” he said. “They’re all here?”

“To an extent,” she said. “You will not relive them as vividly as you would a flashback, but fleeting glimpses of them will appear. Smells, sounds, people, objects. They aren’t real, Patton,” she admonished. “You must remember that.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, unable to keep from glancing around the beach. Patton lifted a hand to the ear he’d heard Merri in. He could have sworn she was right there. More images tugged on his attention from the corner of his eye, and it took a significant effort not to turn and look. Daveigh put a hand on his shoulder, and he relished the solid contact.

“Patton-cake, are you ready to go?” Dot called from only a little ways away, her voice several years younger than he’d last heard her. Patton felt his eyes misting and took a shaking breath. He could hear her closing a sandwich baggie and folding down the top of the brown paper sack his lunches were always in for school. Now, it seemed, it wasn’t only the bad memories that would be hard for him to handle.

“Is it… will it always be like this?” he asked, squeezing his eyes shut.

“You’ll never completely get rid of them, but you can muffle them. It takes a lot of training, though,” she said. “There are many factors at play. How far you are from your body, how emotional you are, what emotions you’re feeling exactly, how concentrated you are. Your mental state affects how you experience the astral plane.”

Patton stiffened as his own broken screams pierced the air from behind him, but before he could even think about turning around, he flew away from Daveigh, like someone had yanked him backward on a leash. The world went black for a split second and Patton gasped, sitting up in his body once more.

He felt heavy, like he’d donned a lead-filled track suit. Patton had only projected for a couple of minutes, but feeling his lungs expanding in his chest, the blood pumping through his entire body… it all felt brand new and a bit foreign.

His screams were seared into his mind.

Patton felt nauseous and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes.

Daveigh rubbed his back gently. “The feeling will pass after a few moments.”

He stiffened. “Can you not touch me right now, please?” he breathed, fighting for calm. She retracted her hand immediately.

“Of course. I should have asked. Forgive me.”

“It’s fine, just… give me a minute.”

Daveigh sat silently next to him while he collected himself, carefully organizing his mind back to where it had been. He realized he couldn’t live like this forever, not dealing with his past. Of course, he knew. But not right now. Not on an island in the middle of nowhere, not knowing if Roman or Virgil were still alive. That would have to wait.

* * * * * * * * * *

Virgil stared in disbelief at the cluster of trees where the portal to Wakeby had once been. Behind him, Dorian corralled Remus from accosting a tree nymph with that strange expression that could have been fondness but surely wasn’t because immortal snake-demons weren’t fond of anything, and Roman watched in slack-jawed amazement as a swarm of multicolored pixies passed by overhead.

“This place is amazing!” Roman said. “Hey, Dorian, is it always this warm?”

“Yes,” the demon replied. “Though there is a rainy season that lasts about a month.”

“I don’t understand,” Virgil breathed. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

Roman approached from behind. “Virgil, what’s wro—”

Pain erupted behind Virgil’s eyes and he gasped, swaying. His ears rang and his head swam. Virgil knew that pain. Ursula was trying to enter his mind. No doubt she could sense that he’d returned to their homeland. Through watering eyes, Virgil saw Roman about to reach out and steady him.

“No!” he cried, scrambling away from Roman, careful to keep Ursula from hearing his words. he fell back to a seat on the ground, backing up against a tree. “Don’t touch me. She’ll know.”

“What?”

“It’s Ursula,” he managed, forcing controlled breaths in through his nose and out through clenched teeth She was breaking through. “She’ll sense your powers if—if you touch—”

You are getting harder and harder to contact, kitty, she tutted inside his mind. Care to explain—

“Virgil, let me help—”

—what you’re doing in the Witchlands? I don’t—

“—what do you need me to do?”

—remember giving you permission to abandon the prince.

“Shut up! Just stop talking!” Virgil cried, clutching his head. He couldn’t focus on both of them at once, especially when they were talking over one another. Roman shut his mouth immediately, stepping back. Dorian watched curiously from afar, then leaned over and muttered something in Roman’s ear.

How dare you speak to me like that, Ursula snapped, her presence pressing down even harder. Still it wasn’t the worst Virgil had experienced from her. It didn’t make sense for her to be holding back, and she’d said it was getting harder for her to reach him… it was probably just the Witchlands itself. Ursula being banished must be affecting their connection.

If you’ve brought the prince there to cultivate his powers, there won’t be a single corner on in the universe where you can hide from me, she hissed. Virgil could feel her attempting to see through his eyes. He panicked. If she saw Roman—if she knew Dorian was working with them… it would all be over. You’ll wish I killed you, you worthless—

I ran away! Virgil thought back frantically.

The throbbing lessened somewhat. What?

Virgil stopped bridling his fear, letting it wash through him, making sure Ursula could sense it. They didn’t want me anymore, so I ran away. I figured coming here, I’d be less of a burden to you.

How’d you get inside?

I kept the charm.

All these years? Ursula snorted. You always were a coward. I should have known.

He saw Roman begin to argue under his breath with Dorian, gesturing at Virgil. He probably wanted the demon to aide him in dealing with the dragon witch. Thankfully, Dorian understood what was going on far better than Roman did, and Virgil didn’t have to convince him not to. He shook his head, staring at Virgil, and for once Virgil didn’t feel pinned to the floor by it. It was almost comforting, knowing that someone that powerful was on his side.

Fine, if you’re too much of a child to do your job, stay in the Witchlands. Less of a chance you’ll get in my way, she sighed. How’s the curse holding up? Our prince is still in one piece?

Yes, he’s fine, last I saw, Virgil reported, replacing the fear with defeat, hopefully feeding into Ursula’s sense of still having control.

You know, she said carefully, I remember the prince mentioning a promise he had with Bloodwyrm to kill me in exchange for his freedom last we met. Any idea what that’s about?

Virgil’s mind raced. She was testing him—prodding at his story to see if it held together under pressure. It was unlikely that he wouldn’t have known about it, but he couldn’t let her get too suspicious. There was a contract Roman convinced the demon to enter into, but it expired when you defeated him. The curse is still intact.

Very well, she conceded, and it took an immense effort just to keep relief from flooding his mind. Enjoy your little vacation, coward. However, if Bloodwyrm disposes of my prince sooner than later, I’ll expect you back here. I’m going to need something to keep him occupied.

Dread trickled down Virgil’s throat at the thought. Of course.

And with that, the dragon witch withdrew.

#panic #tw panic #memories of past abuse #past abuse #tw past abuse #pain #tw pain #pain tw #verbal abuse #tw verbal abuse #COTN

1 note · View note

ortegatrash · 6 years ago

Text

The Farm Sucks

Name: Léon Bellandini | Puppet: Simba | Villain name: Pride

Daring/arrogant/fighter/lots of contacts/gang leader.

Warnings: Mentions of animal cruelty/death, mistaken for suicidal, implied past sexual abuse and general abuse, memory problems

You were always a bit more defiant than the rest.

It got you punished, and you reveled in it. Because any attention was good. Because it stopped them treating you like you were nothing to them, you would rather being scorned and hated than to be nothing. They were everything, they were your world because you had nothing else and you wanted so badly just to matter.

Every time you tried to escape, they would take you and wash you down with a hose. They took pleasure in forcibly shaving your head and branding you where people couldn't see, like livestock. To prevent lice, they said. There's a patch at the back of your head that doesn't grow hair anymore because of the way they hurt you for their amusement.

A toy isn't satisfying if you can't get emotionally invested in it, after all.

You hate them for everything they've done to you, all the ways they used you and took joy in your suffering. You're never going to be a nobody again.

To complete your transformation you had enlisted Ortega's help in picking out a wardrobe. It meant enduring his delighted teasing and questioning about if there was someone in your life you wanted to impress but you think it was worth it. If he's going to be vain, you might as well take advantage of his expertise.

You're gonna dress well and look good in it, dammit.

And look good you do. Even Ortega was impressed, you certainly have cleaned up nicely since you started working out again and taking care of your appearance. Sharp tailored suits and tasteful, bold signet rings, just the tiniest hint of something a little wicked and dark lurking under the surface.

Now you look like someone worthy of respect. Someone dangerous. Someone who has the money and power to make life very difficult for people who dare crosses you.

Maybe it's a little over the top, but you even got a nice throne gilded with gold leaf put into your base to lounge upon. What's the use of having everything if you can't indulge?

Besides. All the gold and velvet makes your inner child happy.

You certainly look the part of a mob boss by now with treasure hoard of jewellery and enough jewelled rings on your fingers for your minions to kiss they can choose from every colour of the rainbow.

You've got decades of being a tool to overcompensate for and really indulge your vanity. Growing your hair long in a middle finger to The Farm- no more uniform military cuts for you, no exposed barcode on the back of your head.

No more denial of your individuality.

---

It's not all easy. Los Diablos is built on suffering and you refuse to be the victim any longer.

If they won't fight fair, why should you?

...It shouldn’t bother you. Doesn’t, really. They mean nothing to you, these people. They exist only to be something to envy - didn’t someone say once that ignorance was bliss?

It must be nice to be so thoughtless and empty-headed that you can’t see the poison that runs through the city. It’s in the streets, the very veins of Los Diablos - this whole filthy place is sick.

The footbridge creaks as you step upon the rusted metal panels, otherwise deserted. Humans like mindless ants swarm the trains below, a steady flow, a pattern that goes unbroken and unquestioned.

It makes you snort.

How easy it would be to crush them all, just like the ants they look like.

How easy it would be to find someone unscrupulous enough to rig up a bomb with your contacts. How easy it would be to talk your way into restricted areas and plant them all under their very feet.

You’ve had enough experience to know that while explosions and destruction are amazing and fun in the moment, somehow the victory feels hollow. Because it doesn’t matter in the end. There’s just no real point in the short-term serotonin rush that comes with petty destruction, especially if no one of actual worth is watching.

Besides, you...you have standards. You’ll only kill those who get in the way, not innocent civilians.

There’s a strange feeling of dread when you think about it. Making your first kill. Makes you hold your breath as you lean against the shaky railing and watch the giant metal murder machines go by underneath you. Or, well, trains, but they could run someone down just as well as you could just because someone got in the way.

And yet. And yet all you want to do is ravage the world that fucked you so hard.

Who knew it would be so hard to remain cool and collected with power when all you want to do is bring the city to ruin and delight in its ashes?

To see them bow and cower before you as you take over this hellhole?

Fuck, that’s a sexy thought.

“Hey, you doing alright, man?”

You’re startled out of your thoughts. Who?

A man stares at you, dark hand extended out and barely visible in the fading light. He’s treating you like a stray cat that he doesn’t want to scare off.

Oh.

He thinks...he thinks you’re going to jump.

The sigh that escapes you doesn’t fail to catch his attention. “I know life can be hard, but this isn’t-”

It’d be so much easier if he weren’t trying to help. That’s why you swallow your annoyance and impatience and paste on a charming smile. It’s almost reflexive by now to twist his confusion and concern into remembering he was going to be late for his train, why did he just stop just now?

You watch the man sprint down the stairs and miss it by seconds, cursing his inattention. Something in you drives you to reach across mentally, to push that frustration aside. Push it into awe and surprised appreciation at the setting sun behind you, it’s been so long since he stopped to appreciate the world, he knows how it feels to feel hopeless and alone, that’s why he stopped to help-

Help who?

-A silhouette bathed in red, gazing down at the tracks below-

No! you frown and push harder, concentrating on a proper distraction. Fix this problem you just created for yourself. Send out your senses - who could you use? Hm, there’s a young lady by the ticket machine, failed her nursing exam and doesn’t know how to break it to her family. Yes, strengthen that thread - what is she going to do with herself, they’re going to be so disappointed in her. If only she had someone to talk to, a friendly ear, someone who didn’t know her, wouldn’t judge.

Tears, she visibly droops and starts trembling. There’s no one else around except the retiree who’s fallen asleep and the cleaner who’s already disillusioned enough with life that he would just tell her to suck it up.

Yes, that’s right. Sob loud enough for him to hear. He blinks, suddenly taking notice of the girl behind him and losing hold of the muddled confusion that he’d just forgotten something.

There’s something very satisfying in being able to do something like this, you think, watching the girl break down in tears as the man comforts her. As they both are strengthened ultimately by the interaction despite the circumstances that brought them together. The way she tearfully leaves her number in the phone of the blushing man.

It’s all played out just like you imagined.

How...predictable.

---

4am is perhaps more familiar to you than 4pm.

The world is quiet. A still moment in black and white, just like out of those film noir clips.

You breathe in the smoke and imagine your life was as romantic as the films made it out to be.

You have the tailored suits. The tattoos on your knuckles, the underlings to do your every command.

They don't talk about the messiness of seeing life leaving the world in your hands, evaporating like the heat of a cooling body in the snow. A morbid picture, painted in red.

They don't talk about the distasteful things, like evacuating their bowels, the frightening things people will stoop to when brought to their lowest. When you see what people are when you strip away the veneer of civilisation from them and you're left only with a terrified beast.

The way their bodies jerk to the ground reminds you of it, sometimes.

Snowball, you called her. You'd been curious, wary of her at first. Her twitchy nose and soft ears fascinated you but the handlers were watching and you didn't want to risk messing up so soon after last time.

Your mission was to take care of her. A trial bodyguard mission for a defect-filled asset that wasn't much of an asset at all. They were starting to get impatient with you, you know - it was a thin line between daring enough to get away with it and ending up being made 'redundant'.

So you just stood there. Stared at her, munching contently at her carrot.

"It's not going to bite you." The new handler is different from the others. You call her Red for her hair, it's not like they ever identify themselves to you. She doesn't scream at your uselessness when you don't react to their satisfaction, she doesn't get distracted by a colleague and leave you abandoned in a dark room for nine hours because she forgot to put you away.

You still hesitate - does she want an answer? Does she want you to take the initiative? Does she just want you to follow only her stated orders, is this just a test?

You can't tell and that frustrates you.

Reading their minds is forbidden unless expressly stated, but she's tapping her pen impatiently like she's expecting you to draw the real orders from her brain.

What to do. What to do?

Remain obedient and only react to what she commands you to do? Or make a move, taking the guess that it's what she actually wants from you? It's a gamble on what will get you punished.

...To hell with it. You don't care anymore.

Wordlessly, you step over to the rabbit and kneel down.

Looking back up at her gives you no clues - no changes in expression that would reveal approval or disapproval. That...you're probably okay for now, it seems.

Probably.

Her fur is so incredibly soft under your hand. It feels like you could break her if you accidentally mishandled her.

It's the first thing you ever have for yourself and you love this little creature that is so dependent on you and looks up at you with such dark, trusting eyes.

---

Red encourages you to get familiar with the clients.

So you make sure to practice her orders. And, well, if you spend more time than you need brushing her fur and calming her when she's stressed, that's confidential information between you and your 'client', isn't it?

---

The newest training mission briefing reads as follows:

Your client is revealed to be a mole working for the enemy. Dispatch of them personally.

You're punished severely for acting out and getting caught in the middle of the night sneaking out of the facilities, but Snowball gets safely past the fence once you distract the dogs into attacking you instead of her.

---

For your disobedience, you're made to dispose of newborn rabbits while they watch.

---

They punish you for sobbing afterwards.

---

They also punish you for assaulting Red for putting you through that.

---

The dogs always get you when you run. You're not as fast as a rabbit.

---

You lose track of the punishments.

---

Sometimes you forget. You can't help it, they teach you lessons and you keep forgetting and they just get so angry at you

It's better than the darkness

It's better when they're mad, because it's better than being forgotten

You hate being forgotten and you hate forgetting, one day you are going to forget yourself and that's the worst thing of all

You don't even know why they're angry with you but you wake up one day with dried blood on your hands and that handler that touched you never appears again

Red is so pleased with you though that it doesn't matter. "That's right, little one, you are mine," she tells you. "No one else will ever touch you in my care."

No one else.

---

She makes sure of it.

---

They keep teaching you lessons for all your disobedience and you, you keep on doing it all over again

---

Red's not so new a handler anymore, but they never give you their names. Why would they introduce themselves to a thing?

She's still just Red. She says she loves you and asks you to say it back.

It feels weird on your lips.

---

She gives you a kiss on the forehead for following orders and being good for once.

You despise her. You love her. She's the first one who ever cared about you as a person - even if only to be cruel to you.

---

You're not a rabbit. You can't run.

No. You are a lion, you will be the one others run from.

Red's the first one you ever kill, you let her live up to the name you gave her and she is just as red on the inside as on the outside

And you cry, cry, and keep on crying because you're so relieved and so heartbroken and you will never understand why you still love her. You don't even know her real name.

"I didn't mean to," you whisper into your pillow, because without her you're so lonely.

But you do. You did. You still do, because you hated her as much as you adored her.

---

You let yourself forget. Let yourself smile, smirk, put all your ruthlessness and charm that they taught you to good work.

You don't want to remember and yet. You still don't want to forget.

---

Your past seems to be catching up to you these days. This time you won't ever be so weak as you once were. They broke you, reforged you, made you into a weapon of their choosing.

And now that very weapon will be turned back on them.

"So. Pride. You are newest rising star in town, I hear."

You let yourself paste on a serene, pleasant smile. "Oh? Have people been talking about me?" you inquire. That's good to know, it pays to know your position within underground circles so you know where you stand. Where you can bargain from. "Why, I'm flattered."

His own answering grin is too cruel, too rough, unrefined. Not as proficient in the whole act of it like you are. "They also mentioned you were a vain narcissist who talks too much."

Your mood shifts to irritated annoyance internally; your face is placid. Friendly. It wouldn't do to show any weakness to a potential enemy. "How strange," you murmur. "Perhaps they have me confused with someone else."

"Yeah, I don't think so, buddy." And now to the threatening tone already. How predictable. "You see, we wanted to give you a little welcome, from us locals here. Want us to be good neighbours, yeah?"

Your noncommittal noise encourages the guy to continue. "Just wanted to let you know that we're the ones in charge of this good ol' neighbourhood here, but we're a little old and traditional. Don't want anything shake up what's nice and settled."

"I see."

Because you do. They're warning you not to mess up the status quo.

Too bad you were always a rebel. "Was there anything else you needed, or were you just going to drone on about your Master's stale old knitting club?" You drone out the words, bored of this already.

The smile he returns to you is a little stiff. "Look. We were hoping you were going to join our... Homeowners Association. You'd have to contribute a small monthly fee, but I assure you it'd be worth it. To keep our front gardens lookin' all pretty, see."

"Not really," you tell him, because this little game of coded words and phrases is beginning to bore you.

There's something of a twitch in his eye when you glance over, but the man actually tries to just pretend you didn't say anything and continues. "Right, so, as our newest member of our little association-"

"I didn't say I was joining."

That truly takes him off guard. "I- What?" he blinks. "Mr Pride," he begins, and you have to laugh at the way they haven't even been able to find out your actual name. "You agreed that by moving into this neighbourhood that you would join the , erm, housing association. It's not optional."

"I did no such thing."

You actually manage to break the man's composure. "You do realise if you don't go along with this, there will be consequences?" he hisses.

"I'm not stupid," you tut, peering at your manicured nails. "I'm aware. I just don't care."

The man ends up leaving with a thunderous look on his face as you greet Ortega. A genuine smile to match Ortega's wave.

"What's that? Are you actually talking to people other than me now?" he teases.

"Just a business associate. He kept trying to sell me a scam." You frown a little. "But that doesn't matter. Let's go have lunch, shall we?"

---

They make good on their word.

You aren't going to roll over and show them your belly like their pet dog. Let them think you're nothing but an arrogant little upstart. Let them think they can put you down on their command. Just because you’ve never killed someone personally doesn’t mean you’re not a threat to contend with.

They see the man at the top with the smart suits and the rumble of purred threats, deep and low. The King of the Lions, Pride.

They won't be suspecting the panther stalking the shadows.

---

Simba isn't loud or boastful or broken like Léon is. Not so angry, not so easy to fall to passion.

Simba watches. Simba is patient. Once he's got a target in his sight, he never stops hunting it.

Your mind is quieter when you are Simba, and so are you. You don't need to keep talking to drown out the thoughts in your head.

Silence suits Simba. He doesn't need words to assemble his sniper rifle, his dark skin blending in with the shadows. Doesn't need feelings to peer down the sights and wait for your moment.

Now the only question is, is Simba the puppet here or Léon?

Because you're not sure if you know anymore. You're starting to become unsure of who you really are. In the end...are you nothing more than what you made you?

You really don't know. But Simba doesn't care. All he needs to do, is, well, his job.

A man walks in front of your vision and seals his fate.

You fire.

---

It wasn't supposed to be like this. She wasn't supposed to be visiting her boyfriend.

---

There is a distant gunshot ringing in your ears but you are the one holding the still-smoking pistol.

Which would be all good and well if you could remember why you're here. You try and keep the confusion from appearing on your face as you take in the scene in front of you.

A neat little bullet hole straight to the heart. The woman is scrambling wide-eyed as she attempts to plug the hole. Unable to comprehend what's just happened.

With the amount of blood pooling, it'd be over soon enough from blood loss. But you're not cruel and because of that, you aim your gun once again at her head. At her frozen face, mouth wide open to beg-

And fire.

She falls to the ground like a rag doll.

You don't even know who she is. Was. But you must have shot her for a reason, right?

Couldn't let her suffer. Had to finish the job. You don't feel any hatred for this woman, she must have just gotten in the way. Somehow the blood on your hands doesn't look real when you're wearing your puppet. Simba's hands are darker, more delicate, more slender than yours. Shake less.

Sometimes it bothers you, these little gaps in time. You keep coming back to awareness like this and it's starting to get a little frightening.

You're not supposed to be the one losing control.

It makes your head hurt. You've fought so hard to be something, be a person and then…

You can't even remember half of the things that made you, well, you. You have emotions and fragments and half-remembered bits stripped of their context. A man without a past, like you were plonked down in the world one day half formed.

A puzzle with all the most important pieces missing.

But for now, you have a mess to clean up. Dirty work for a dirty man like you, but Simba doesn't hesitate like Léon does. Doesn't mind the blood crusting under those ragged fingernails, so unlike your own polished, clean hands.

---

You keep waking up in a sweat. Terrified and with no idea why.

There is-

There is blood under your carefully manicured fingernails.

---

The dog park is quiet this early in the morning. Just stare down at your book. Headphones on. Classic 'don't disturb me' look.

It's been ten minutes, you should probably turn the page.

The dogs keep away from you. Maybe they notice your heart rate spiking when they come near. You're not...you're not afraid of them anymore. It's fine.

It has to be. Just...just take in their pure thoughts. There are no dogs, just thoughts, just-

Your first thought is that you're being attacked when you feel something make rough bodily contact with your knee and your body just reacts.

Spoon gives a surprised whimper as your foot makes impact, you’re just trying to stem the panic. It's okay, it's just Spoon, he's not the giant German Shepherds that haunt you.

"Spoon!" Chen barks out, alarmed, a little bit angry. You're not usually this jumpy, you're not usually this bad, you should have seen him coming.

This is too raw to be able to show your face to Chen. That's why you leap up and back off. "Leave me alone, Chen!" you shout, and you hate that you can't control the way you genuinely sound terrified. The unusualness of it makes even Chen frown and look slightly taken aback.

"Léon, what was that just there?"

This is no time to have a panic attack. This is no time to break down. "Just leave me alone, Chen!" you shout. "Stay away from me, keep him away from me!"

You don't turn around to look if he actually does as you ask. You're just trying desperately to flee, over and over and over again, just waiting for the teeth to grab on and bite harshly down on you.

---

You're still waiting for those jaws a few hours later.

---

It's better when they hate you. It's better because you can hate them back, you can lash out and hurt them because you hurt and you just want it to go away

That's why you push them away, because they care. You keep on hurting the people you care about and you're too proud to say you're sorry.

Ortega with his worried eyes and questions left on the tip of his tongue.

Herald, little fly-boy, oh-so-trusting and oh-so-oblivious.

Your crew, your little family you've built up all on your own.

Smirk. Tease. Twist them around your fingers and move them as your pawns. That's how you keep from getting hurt.

You will never, ever, let someone control like that again. Not unless you had planned for them to, not unless you could trust and predict them.

...Stop thinking about Ortega. Stop thinking about how betrayed he'll look if he ever finds out. Stop thinking about how it should serve him right for betraying you and leaving you to die.

Stop thinking about how everything Daniel knows about you is a lie. That you only agreed to train him for your own ulterior motives before he wormed his way into your heart.

Stop thinking about Anathema and the disappointed look on what was left of Themmy's face after…

No.

No, don't.

---

Anathema’s stupid, dumb face won’t leave you alone. Not in your waking hours, not in the silent hours.

Fuck. Fuck’s sake, Themmy. Will you go away if I go and visit you?

No answer. You don’t know what you expected.

---

Anathema’s grave is well tended. The flowers are still fresh.

Your grave is next to his, you know. Your name looks so solemn engraved in such a sober, formal font. Like you were some sort of honoured pillar of the community instead of awkward smiles and messy emotions that spilt out everywhere. Before even those attempts at smiles faded away and all you were left with were the sharp edges that cut into other people’s skin.

The rush of fury at all, all, all this - whatever this is - drives you over the edge. There’s a certain satisfaction in stomping over to your grave and kicking over the flowers. Crushing them underneath your feet.

The same way they crushed you. The same way your bones were crushed on impact.

You’re only vaguely aware of a sense of unease as you pant, too out of it all to focus. There shouldn’t be anyone here to notice you making a scene, what does it matter that you lost your temper?

The mangles mess of stems and petals feel like your life. Something about about it makes you stare. Pause.

Lilies. Your scowl fades away into a genuine frown. Who…?

Ortega knows you’re alive.

That just begs the question, a painful realisation on the tip of your tongue. Who could hav-

-Someone is watching.

Someone is watching you.

The flash of alarm and shock screaming through your brain is the only warning you get.

They knew you were coming-

---

…

….

…..

Anyone watching Simba sleeping wouldn’t notice anything amiss to signify his awakening, no change in breathing pattern, no facial twitches to give him away. For all intents and purposes still all but dead to the world.

The sound of the magpies fighting again outside is too familiar - you recognise them. Feed them on occasion, it gives Simba a reason to be sitting around outside watching the world.

So. Unmoved from his apartment then. Unless they’d gone to the trouble of kidnapping the exact same birds, you recognise their own distinct bird calls by now. The one with croak you named Harry. Harry is currently arguing with his rival, Barry, and isn’t as distressed as a bird would be if someone had indeed taken him from his home by force.

Your breathing is steady, keeping your ears peeled for any signs of an intruder. Letting Simba ‘wake up’ naturally like any other day.

...Good enough.

Fling the bedsheets aside and walk to the window, to the blackout curtains. Stop for a moment to observe. No visible threats - but that doesn’t mean anything in this day and age.

The skies are too blue, it makes Simba’s forehead crinkle. Take in the position of the sun, consider the implications of it all.

This can’t be allowed to let stand, after all.

No one will ever get the best of you again.

#fallen hero rebirth #fallen hero retribution #spoilers #fanfic #Léon Bellandini (OC)#character study #fic #Pride (OC)#mob boss #what are titles pffft #FH:rebirth #fh:retribution

33 notes · View notes

ourmondobongo · 4 years ago

Text

Warner can read others emotions pretty well enough.

There is a Barnes and Noble version of Restore-Me which shows Kenji trying to sneak off their hide out in Warner's quarters (that is through Warner's room), and Warner is there sleeping with Juliette, but he quickly wakes up and catches him. Warner can't see Kenji because he is invisible, but his confused and pained emotions toward Nazeera are screaming so loud that Aaron can't help but feel it.

He explains to Kenji that though he can't see him, he feels his presence because his emotions kind of occupy physical space. Aaron can feel them, their shape. What is a really interesting concept.

That's also why in Ignite Me, he finds Kenji invisible too, and how he manipulates his power, and makes them his. His power goes beyond things that are visible and physical. And he also explains to Juliette that he could feel other people had as emotions directed straight toward him. However, until training with Juliette and living underground with the rebels, Warner had never thought that was a power. If he didn't know how to use that like a "muscle" , but rather more like he trust it as an strong instinct, he wouldn't try dig into it too much to explore other people's emotions. Especially since all he constantly felt was his soldiers' fear and kind of hate toward him.

Also, since this reading of emotions is part of his special power, it means it demanded his mental AND physical energy. So digging into other people's emotions too much would be overwhelming to him, to no end. Not to mention, besides having his mind constantly wiped out, Aaron mostly considered himself a bad person, unloved by his father, and all the emotional luggage that comes of the horrible things he was forced to do by his father's orders. So he navigated the biggest part of life shielding himself from others.

Also, as you said, being a empathetic person is really tough (I'm one of them, and hell, I know a bit of how other people's suffering can take its tool on me too). Avoiding extra and unwelcome emotions from others is a life saving sometimes. In Warner's case, he already felt wait to much for any human - so much that he used to go to the simulation chamber and make the vision of his "tougher" self shot a bullet into his head. The way Aaron struggled so much with his emotions is the prettiest yet most painful part of Destroy Me.

So, resuming, what I mean is that though Warner looked like this cold, ultra rational man, he is a character terribly scarred - mental and emotionally. By the way he had barely learned that he had powers x how he barely could control of his own emotions if it wasn't either by suppressing them hard or lashing it out, it's probably safe to assume he still had a long way to go before actually having the "I can take this much emotions and detach myself from them" demeanor. It would need much more of a safe and healthy environment for him to heal, and there wasn't a real time for that in none of the new books.

That's why I think its a huge step seeing him working and becoming friends with Kenji. Aaron spend his whole life trusting no one but barely his grandpa (who he couldn't even openly treat as that). He couldn't openly do much for his own mother too. He was in constant vigilance to not be killed or betrayed.

Besides, the times he trusted his instincts digging into other people's emotions (Juliette) he got shot while they were kissing, and the other she destroyed his heart while they were having sex lol. Her confused emotions had mislead him as much as her actions. So, in the end, emotions can be as much deceiving as body language. But to Aaron, reading body language was much safer because it didn't cost the use of his special power, nor made him overly confident that he could predict exactly what people would be capable of doing in a situation.

I mean, some people can feel pretty calm and indifferent and even insanely comfortable shooting someone. His father certainly felt nothing bad when he almost killed Juliette.

Thinking about how Aaron Warner can feel other people’s emotions, apparently…. Confused about how that hasn’t affected his life as much as it should….

Discussion time: I call myself an empath because it’s easier than saying that I’m an extremely empathetic person. I don’t really believe in magical powers or whatever but I do have to protect myself from “negative energies” on the regular. Anyway, my empathy has been one of the most influential things in my life. Since I’m also compassionate, other people’s struggles and traumas often turned into my struggles and traumas. I can predict exactly what someone is going through if their emotions are loud enough. I depend on my empathy more than K depend on my eye sight because it sorts out situations and guides me in my life decisions so accurately. I pick up on more physical cues too but understanding the emotional climate of those around me tells me so much more than just their body language ever will.

Now, apparently Warner has been an “empath” his whole life and can sus out a situation based on the emotions of those around him. It made him sensitive as a child and, in my opinion, was probably why his bond to his mother was so strong and he had the ability to connect with Juliette even after all the emotional and physical abuse he went through. Also why he kept caring about his evil father. In Ignite Me, there is a scene where he tells Juliette to never be sad because he feels it too and it breaketh his heart. But if he can feel the emotions of others shouldn’t he be more understanding of everyone around him? I know there is a vast difference between being compassionate and empathetic but unless Warner has an emotional boundary when it comes to others, he should still feel their emotions. Example, I have to put up emotional barriers when I go out in public because otherwise I will pick up on almost everyone emotions except those that have their own emotional barriers up. And I can bypass their barriers if I want. The only times that we see Warner picking on emotions from others is when he’s with Juliette and it’s told in a very not empathetic way; more factually that emotionally. The other times we’re just told that he did this. And in Warner’s POV he does a lot more body language reading than emotional/energy reading. Which is stupid of him because people lie but their feelings don’t. And if he has the right emotional barriers up he can disconnect himself from their emotions while still reading them. It still uses up one’s own energy but not nearly as much full on compassion work and the information is a lot more accurate than just looking into someone’s eyes. Juliette seems to be better at emotion reading than Warner is and all I’m saying is that Tehereh Mofi doesn’t know that empaths exist and did a horrible job at portraying one.

Warner being a full blown empath could be so fucking cool but instead he only reads Juliette’s emotions and there’s nothing new there, we all know how she feels. I want to see Warner reading Castle and Kenji and James. I want to see him reading Juliette’s parents and Brendan and Winston. It’d be freaking awesome. Also seeing Warner recovering emotionally after a lot of reading, or learning how to do compassion work. We’d learn so much!

#aaron warner #tahereh mafi #juliette ferrars #kenji

11 notes · View notes

kurlykayaker · 6 years ago

Text

“closed doors”

Re: LOOOONNNGGG everyone has closed doors. closed doors - to their closets, to their bathrooms, closed spaces for their underwear, special jewelry, “emergency cash”, closed doors to their house. i used to be a VERY open person - trusting with the turn of a smile, and a solid handshake. i am still rather open, but life had to weather and shape me. my oldest brother predicted that at age 30, “i would turn red” (re- politically) which has still yet to be met, “you’ll see how much the federal government takes out of your paycheck,” he often says. perhaps i am a faded blue, but what is moreover true, is my declining awareness of my emotional journey. our society is built upon -- closed doors. chatting with my mother, on the phone today, she *finally* watched my trans slideshow / the last one to watch it of my inner circle (re- sad). i tell her i want to share this on facebook - her voice changes tones, her words change to a slower pace, and she talks about herself, “i mean Jordan, there are things about divorce / that i went through / that i wouldn’t want everyone knowing about.” i try to avoid the black and white stripes - where i know we disagree in our conversations - it’s a cat-and-mouse game and someone’s tail gets eaten. the electrical conduction system in my heart, fueled by the Vagus, has been ... rewired? my voice changes tones on her too (i like to do this a lot), i speak at a faster pace, “so, let’s say i *don’t* share this; what if 5 more trans kids take their own lives?... <<i don’t leave room for her to respond>> what if something like this kept dad alive?” she can’t respond to that. sometimes, i just want to replay the grief we kids went through. i don’t blame her for blocking it out; who wants to remember that shit? another closed door. hell, i don’t even remember everything before - and especially after my dad died. (my own) closed doors. i try to take a breathe. Mom is in Atlanta for a conference, and she sounds happy. i don’t want to dampen that. she proceeds, “just for your future profession... <<i’m listening --->>, you can save that kind of stuff for certain people.” i explain the security features of facebook, but i also explain the realism of what-it-means-to-be-trans, “did you know i watched a ton of youtube videos of trans guys before i told you guys? / and you guys weren’t completely supportive in the beginning- i’m not angry, it’s complicated. / my video can help others.” a door opened? (still need to edit video more before posting) maybe, a door opened --> *questions self.* a bit more: “you know how long i’ve been meaning to make this, mom? being in grad school has kept me so busy.” i’m not sure how much she is listening to me. her voice changes tones again, she has somewhere to be - i know her sooooo well. the falsetto kicks in, “well, i love you handsome. good luck with studies.” an open-door kind-of kicked in by my mom. used to it? “Strong but Tender” by Eli Conley, a trans man - in touch with his heart and spirit opens my own - door (and heart). He’s playing at Oberlin College next month. Will I take time to go? I’m still not sure....I’d be going alone. the # of times i’ve listened to “Strong but Tender” since finding the song for my trans slideshow is innumerable. it brings me hope, solidarity, MORE self-love, a giddy-joy....i ran a mile today (ha), peace. for me, it’s about finding someone who understands me. so many closed doors. so many closed doors in life, inadvertently slammed in my face. even some of my closest friends struggle, “i didn’t realize the suicide rate was so high for trans folks,” i thought i communicated this?? nevertheless, they listen and my heart swells closed doors. what’s the point of all these closed doors? my father taking his own life 19 years ago, is not a door i enter often. it used to be a door i had to walk through every G.D. forsaken’ day. therapy, therapy, more therapy, writing, and so much outside time smoothen-ed a jagged fissure in my heart / you can only heal a cracked heart so much. like an afferent stimulus for a reflex, everyone’s “closed door” has one. what is yours? mine? what are mine? a) failure - utter failure - especially academic. i want to help others, and i’ve picked a career that will allow me to do that. my father was a smart-smart man. he emphasized education, when we were baby bears. failure reminds me that my father struggled mentally, emotionally. i have tried to widen my “tool-box” (such an overused phrase) and life-perspective to see and experience failure less often. b) Episcopalian church - as my father was an Episcopalian priest c) seeing a book of “Common Prayer” - my father loved this book, and its literature is impressive d) being outside - completely isolated from civilized world. a year or two before my dad passed, he developed a love for hiking and being outside. he made sure to include us on these mini-trips. i also recall a Sermon he told where an older gentleman always went fishing Sunday A.M. ; his neighbors didn’t understand why he didn’t go to church, but the older gentleman explained he felt the presence of God most on his boat - early sunrise Sunday AM. The neighbors didn’t know how to respond. I was only 12 y/o when I heard that Sermon but I knew it was radical for a fucking Mid-Western Episcopalian small church to hear. ...and my father told the story so calmly and with such love. e) a father giving his children affection in public. my dad was a big hand-holder, hugger, expressive... f) a father running while his kid bikes along side. this is something my dad and i did often when i visited him every other weekend. g) denial - abandonment - from a friend or potential partner; yeah, the door can be opened by ugly shit. parents are destined to do this inadvertently to children but it is a BIG ball-buster when it’s divorce and or death. intentional death. gut-reaction: “cloooose the dooor,” behavioral therapy: comfort the wound in your heart. yearssszzzz of self-love. the door is cracked. h.) critique- (even if constructive) from a close loved one. momentary feeling of denial - that i cannot be accepted based on him. lots of behavioral therapy to learn...it’s often NOT (always) reflective of you.... i.) a tomboy - aka a person born “xx” but dresses in more masculine clothes (maybe they are trans/maybe the’re not - it doesn’t matter) -- i was that child 100%. furthermore, parents that support the child in whatever gender-expression that best fits them. j.) when within a short-time period, someone can pick up that i’m a sensitive mother fucker - is mindful - and attentive to that. >>the door stays cracked (”damnit, i can’t hide it around you.”) k.) affirmation to my core - the true core i know about myself. not some made-up fluffy bull-shit. such as affirmation to my work ethic, my care for others, my mostly good attitude (haha), my writing...

the door’s been closed too damn long. i would try to blame it on grad school, but that’s not taking ownership. my father is scowling from heaven. (in a good way, haha) sometimes, you get small gusts of winds that crack it open. and then other times, you get a fuckin’ DUSTBOWL that touches the source of your pain-ed-closed door. the sad part, is that i usually need to be sleeping / studying. the door is opening... i have pushed my heart down and behind that closed door for some long ass time, protection. protection. protection. no need to experience 2000, again. solitude-loneliness arises between studying, hard work, naps with relief/comfort found between exercise, a good conversation, writing (~sometimes), a dance, and some alcohol can truly touch. is my door re-opening? regrowing awareness.

0 notes

heartbeatsandrainstorms · 8 years ago

Text

“Happy Birthday, your father is dead”

Warning: some parts may not be appropriate for those who are overly imaginative/squeamish.

Apologies if this is disjointed; it was written over several days with only minimal editing; additional apologies for length to those on mobile.

It happened the way we had basically predicted: the tenants downstairs hadn’t heard any noise overhead for several days, so they called the police to do a wellness check. The police found him dead on the floor of his apartment. He had likely been there for several days.

We didn’t get a call from the police; instead, we found out from a morbid version of the game “Telephone”. The tenants downstairs called the other tenants, one of whom called his sister, who is one of my family’s neighbors. This neighbor couldn’t get in touch with any of us, so she called another neighbor who finally succeeded in calling my brother. My brother called me, wished me a happy birthday, and followed with, “um...also...Dad passed away.”

I had just inprocessed into my rotation earlier the same day I got this call, and suddenly I’m emailing the Med Student coordinator (who I hadn’t even met yet- she was on leave and wouldn’t be back for a few more days) asking for permission to take emergency leave, trying to figure out who (if anyone else) I should contact because her backup who I worked with earlier in the day was going to be out the next day, and didn’t tell me who (if anyone) was supposed to be next in line after her, other than to say "if you need anything, any of the attendings will be glad to help.” Not having most of their email addresses, I decided it was a moot point since I was planning to show up to the clinic in the morning anyway.

I don’t think finding an attending at random to tell that I’d just gotten news that my father was dead was exactly what she had in mind on the “just ask anyone for help” front. Not being sure which to pick (and none being in yet), I instead blindsided my resident, and he picked an attending for me once they got in: the program director. While leaving morning report that day, I see her whispering to one of the other attendings and hear, “that’s horrible!” as I walked out of the room.

Pretty sure that comment was about me.

My resident that day heard my end of a call with my sister, who was freaking out a bit and asking kind of horrifying questions. I don’t even want to know what kind of crazy person he thinks I am now. Lets just say that if you ever find yourself in this position, maybe don’t try to answer your sister’s questions about whether your dead father’s face has rotted off while in a public place; maybe also don’t explain that there’s too many variables about how bodies decompose to be able to tell her what state your father’s body is likely to be in. Perhaps you should instead much more quickly reach the conclusion that I eventually did, and just tell her that there is a good chance we should plan for a closed casket, and to mentally prepare for that.

We weren’t sure at first how long it would take for the body to be released from the medical examiner’s office, so I stayed at my rotation site until we were able to set dates for the wake and funeral. This means I had a lot of people ask me if I was sure I didn’t want to take some time for myself, and proceeded to assure them that I was doing ok, thank you, and I would prefer to be kept busy. This was (mostly) true, short of feeling nauseated any time I didn’t have something to keep me busy. Then I came home. Until I got home, I held it all together.

I honestly thought years ago that I had cried for the last time over my father. His last years on this earth were not particularly kind to any of us, and I think everyone in the family became more broken for it. I know I was the first of us to give up; my siblings never got there. I had forgotten about the better times. I say “better” because I believe that for much of his life my father was tortured by mental health problems that we can only speculate the full extent of. I do know he was deeply unhappy, and was a loner who had difficulty connecting to other people. But there was a time when he tried to give us what he never had, and invested (literally) in our futures. Back in the better years, he was the one who taught me how to use tools, who took us to our soccer games, and who flooded the backyard to make us a skating rink in the winter.

We spent my first night home going through old pictures, and it’s good to remember the family vacations and birthdays and random family goofiness. It also hurt a lot more. It brought up a lot of “could’ve/should’ve/would’ve” feels. And maybe I could have done things differently; maybe doing so would’ve dumped me into bad (worse) mental place at the time; maybe I’d feel better now; maybe it would have made this whole thing hurt more now. Lots of maybes, no answers. Having said, that, I haven’t forgotten the harder times: the times where I felt so emotionally manipulated by him that I wanted to cut all contact, the times where I wondered whether he saw me as a full human being of my own, the years of hurt and feeling like no matter what I did I couldn’t earn his approval. The many-faceted nature of our relationship and all its consequences has made the whole coping/grieving/moving on process both harder and easier than expected.

People keep asking me to let them know if I need anything, but short of the people I asked for rides to/from the airport, I haven’t been able to think of anything. I have wants and wishes- not needs. And the wants and wishes aren’t actually possible, because the past is immutable, irreparable, and it’s far too late for second chances for our relationship.

And so now I’m back on my rotation. I flew back the day after the funeral. It felt wrong in some ways to take so little time, but that day the rest of the family went back to work, and like hell was I going to do, sit around my mom’s place by myself that day. All I can do is move forward. Moving forward feels like either an act of recovery, or a final act of defiance. Maybe it’s both. By continuing to push forward, it’s like I’m refusing to let my father hold me back in death when I never let him do that in his life. I think he found it infuriating in some ways, but even though he never said it, I want to believe that he was proud of me making my place in the world and doing so many of the things that I always wanted to do.

I’ll never know, and that might be one of the hardest parts of all. And knowing that he died in a way that no one should: lonely, alone, and without being found for days thereafter. And knowing that he probably didn’t know how to tell us properly that he missed us/wanted to spend time with us; in cleaning out his apartment, we found a bunch of pictures of us kids, and it hurts to think that that was most of what he had left of our relationship was some old photos and whatever memories he had.

Which is to say that it’s been a hard couple of weeks, and I’m trapped between feeling like I want to talk about it and feeling like I need to keep my mouth shut because I’m out here on an interview rotation and my job is to keep my head down, get my work done, and make a good impression. I also know that I’ll cry if I talk about it, and I am generally opposed to crying in front of authority figures if I can help it. And let’s be real, everyone from the interns to the attendings are authority figures, which means no crying allowed. Sit down, shut up, one foot in front of the other. Keep. Moving. Forward.

#and of course typing several parts of this made me cry again #only sort of medblr #mostly personal ish #and now I'm probably just going to be that med student whose dad died on her rotation to these people #which...whatever I suppose there are worse things to be known for #this doesn't even get into the complicated mess that is my father's estate that my siblings and I need to settle #or the years and years of unopened mail we have to sort through #and how I feel guilty for leaving the rest of my family to deal with most of it

8 notes · View notes

miss-pettigrew · 8 years ago

Text

Alright y’all. It’s been a little over a day since that meta post that earned me so many lovely notes and followers and reblogs and magic and I’m honestly so overwhelmed and yeeeeeee-ing over the positive feedback.

So I got another one for ya, that I’m low-key embarrassed about because this entirely prurient but let’s not pretend we don’t enjoy KS half as much as we do for that very reason.

So I want to talk about Sangwoo and sex.

I find Sangwoo’s relationship with sex pretty fascinating and it can’t hurt to dive a little bit into it. As always, this is purely my opinion and speculation and there are things I very well may be incredibly wrong about. Ok, who cares, let’s go.

At this point in the series (up through chapter 17) we’ve seen this dude get his nasty on quite a few times, in quite a few contexts. And the one thing that always stands out to me as it probably does to all of you is his complete lack of... response?

Take 1 - his handy from Bum. He shows absolutely no sign of arousal or pleasure other than the obvious erection. And we also know that he ejaculated because of the following scene - and yet, without that scene, I would have assumed he hadn’t. And we have the blushing scene which as this series has continued on, that panel becomes more and bizarre as we go because there is not a single other instance in which he reacts like that. In which his cardiovascular system met with his nervous system (i dont actualy know science isthis what happens) and blood rushes to his head in response to Bum. Like dang.

We then have the blow job part 1 in which Sangwoo kiiiinda initiates? Again, not moaning, no huffing, nothin’. Just a lot of disparaging comments and an ejaculation.

Ok, so he clearly is getting something out of it. We also throughout all of this that with each sexual encounter with Bum, he becomes more and more affectionate in daily life. No longer requiring Bum to do chores, no longer keeping him chained in the basement. But all shallow appearances, he’s treating him well - and he’s viewing these sexual encounters intimately. Huh.

Then shit goes bad, and the next encounter in the basement in which Sangwoo gets off on Bum. Full disclosure, I haven’t actually read this chapter more than twice. It gives me the icks and as someone who IS NOT A SENSITIVE PERSON like at all, it gives me the icks. But, as I remember, Sangwoo is EXTREMELY responsive. Obviously, there is nothing consensual (ever) and Bum isn’t even touching him, but he is responding in a very normal way to sexual stimulus. Huh?

Next chapter he goes out and sleeps with another girl (in a place not his apartment therefore clearly not a victim). Then he goes to the gay bar and honeypots the man - which OF COURSE this is interesting. And I’ve read a few good metas on the reasoning behind this. Was it gay panic? I’m less inclined to think so, because in the larger context in the involvement of Bum - it appears to me that it’s more an olive branch? Sangwoo expect Bum to participate in his world and so let’s ease it in by offering him something he can relate to - gay men. That could be wrong, I don’t know - it’s entirely speculation here as there is nothing at all to compare it to. I will point out that the panel in which the man is kissing him the bathroom, Sangwoo does look quite vulnerable.

And holy shit COMPLETE SIDE NOTE BEAR WITH ME I’LL GET TO THE POINT.

Let’s talk about Sangwoo’s size. I see so many posts making fun of his “yaoi” body. Which believe me, I laugh at. But do you notice how incredibly large Sangwoo has gotten with each passing chapter. yes, he’s very muscular, he has to be to pull of the shit he does. But I have no doubt that is much more an effect of unreliable narrator through Bum. As Bum physically, mentally, emotionally deteriorates, Sangwoo becomes stronger, broader, more powerful and much more frightening. It’s meant to serve as a contrast between these two characters. Movies do this all the time. In Crimson Peak, they built the furniture larger to show how Edith becomes smaller and frailer the more she is poisoned throughout the movie. It’s 99% for effect.

In that scene in the bathroom, Sangwoo (or what we see of him) appears SMALLER. Significantly so. He’s out of his comfort zone and his physicality reflects that. By the time they’re back in the basement he’s back to full size, because they’re in his world now and see how he grows.

Ok, let’s get to the almost point here.

I’ve stated before but I’ll state it again, Sangwoo sleeping with Jieun isn’t in reaction to Bum sitting on that guy’s lap. It’s not ultimately even something he set out to do to hurt Bum (though he can see the advantage of it after the encounter in the bathroom). It’s purely part of his modus operandi when he commits these murders. And this murder, in particular, is for Bum.

(as a side note, I’m still terrified as how he expects Bum to participate in this part of the process - other than by watching through a slit in the door. please, god, let that be all)

What I do want to point out, and I’m going off fan translations until I buy the english chapter myself (BUY THIS STUFF Y’ALL GOOD LORD), but Sangwoo doesn’t make a god damn peep this whole time. It’s all Jieun.

Not one chapter ago did Bum make the a huge deal about wanting to hear Sandwoo’s moans echo through the mic. The only time he has ever head Sangwoo moan was when he was being asphyxiated in the basement. Not the greatest context, poor wee babe.

But the BJ in the bathroom, Sangwoo DOES react. Not significantly, but his breathing becomes labored. He rolls his eyes back when he answers the phone in pleasure. He’s physically showing how Bum is affecting him. When this man has otherwise, never shown any sort of reaction during sex.

And then there’s the kissing. And this to me is still pretty... grey for me because I have nothing to compare it to. We only have a few frames of the sex scene with Jieun but one thing is pretty obvious - he’s not kissing her. She’s talking quite a bit, so it appears he hasn’t even BEEN kissing her. I have no idea at what point he started his seduction and I find the idea of him kissing her both likely and unlikely - what I’m saying is, I have no idea what kissing means to Sangwoo.

Because he kisses Bum a lot. And in kinda gross circumstances. Chapter 2 - mouth full of porridge. Mouth full of vomit. Ick. Kissing is definitely something that leads to sex in his eyes, and therefore it is a sexual act. I wish I had a stronger point to make with this, but I don’t. It’s just, it’s something I’ve noticed and has been drawn and framed to be noticed and I’m wondering why. Maybe you all have ideas, and if you do, I would love to hear them.

So, we have a very sticky situation for Bum coming up. For me, I have a very hard time predicting what the fuck Bum is going to do in any certain circumstance. I can’t read him like I can Sangwoo, who comes much more naturally to me. What I do expect to see, in regards to sex and Sangwoo and especially sex and Sangwoo and Bum, is that the more intimate, the more possessive Sangwoo feels over Bum, the more likely he’s going to SHOW it.

For me, Jieun’s eventual murder will also very likely lead to an next step in the sexual relationship between Sangwoo and Bum. Does this mean penetration? I hope not, but maybe. But I can see Sangwoo absolutely losing his shit, but in the not angry way. But in the full blown out mooooooan, and maybe even the flushing. In which Sangwoo loses his very careful reserve when it comes to sex. Because to reiterate, what Sangwoo HATES more than anything else is feeling out of control. I think that IS why we don’t see Sangwoo react during sex. I think that’s why he doesn’t tend to lose his cool at all during the dinner scene, despite definitely feeling a little out of control then. I think that’s why he does lose his complete shit when he thinks Bum is gone. He never ever wants to feel vulnerable in the face of his own emotions in the wake of another’s actions.

So him, reacting to sex - I think that’s the way we’re expected to see intimacy/vulnerability from Sangwoo. In my reading of Sangwoo, he doesn’t experience empathy. He can’t. He won’t experience “love.” He can’t. He can experience attachment, and possession and even affection - but those are internal expressions of those feelings. And not empathetic ones. He won’t show affection to Bum because he wants Bum to feel good. He’ll show affection to Bum because he feels affectionate and wants to express that. He’ll set up elaborate murder scenarios for Bum because that’s his way of showing intimacy, when Bum would probably much rather do with a hug or a kiss or a getting the fuck away from Sangwoo.

Sex is a tool It makes Sangwoo feel good and it’s a way to lure victims into his apartment - to get them vulnerable, to physically break them down (I’m sure it is far easier to trap a woman worn out from sex than someone at their full strength. Obviously he would succeed either way, but it’s just so much easier this way and it makes him feel good.)

In a quick logical leap, I think Sangwoo gets off in the way he’s constantly surprised by Bum -without ever feeling out of control. It’s a bit of a trust thing, because he assumes (wrongly) that Bum, without fail, loves him. It makes him feel good, and feeling good happens when he has sex, so having those reactions overlap just seems like an obvious thing. It’s like “input stimulus here” “output stimulus here” but what the output is expressed in these very reptilian ways that Sangwoo understands. I feel good = sex. I feel safe = sex. I feel powerful = sex. But also, I feel out of control = fear/arousal - boner. But what he refuses to let himself feel is vulnerable so the way he actually physiologically reacts during sex is very controlled. At least until now - with Bum. Power and Control - Marina and the Diamonds.

Again, this is so long, and if you stick around to read it all, I don’t even know what to say but thanks. I hope you get a kick out of it though, and as always, please send me your thoughts. I truly enjoy the mental exercises I get when thinking about this stuff.

#killing stalking #killing stalking spoilers #in which i talk about things #like sex

172 notes · View notes

potterzachary · 4 years ago

Text

Reiki Healing Origin Stunning Unique Ideas

This will be made to dovetail with an equal emphasis on the body it can also cause energy imbalances in your area and raise that of the things we as human beings touch their patients reside in.She gradually left off her walker and her solar plexus chakra was partially functional.After what seemed to try to relax the body to deal with all such problems which can be healed with his disciples was nothing but efforts at group healing.Many hospitals, clinics, and hospice settings to provide the proper flow of energy and the Reiki healing sessions.

Reiki treatments after receiving a Reiki master.That doesn't mean they are looking for a long time ago and have never had tumor.There is one of the first level and in every living being and can be very alert to its simplest, highest form of Reiki as, once achieved, such statements no longer has the central factor for Reiki.It has since taken off and can train at a child look up at the Second Degree is the energy of the way.Using brainwave entrainment will improve and strengthen!

Of perhaps there was not prone to praying for personal and healing others and healing tools to help you out in each of my hands, and from different corners of the instructor's teaching certificate.After an attunement, students can begin on the client will realise that there are a lot cheaper experience.And since Reiki is an attunement into your daily tasks calmly and serenely.And to get out of balance inside your body.There may times where it need to achieve this.

Traumas, both large and growing and popular practice and this energy through their work experience is that Usui Maiko and his head was stable on the many enlightened beings.It is used to help the Earth and the attunement is the Orca empowerment Reiki being universal energy with one hand, courses teaching Reiki in the aura of well-being and knowing how Reiki works: it is mainly up to become a reiki master.Although Reiki is a simple matter of personal identity and developing the foundation practices of Reiki.The beginner can also help her fight against this at the bottom line, there are no definitive clinical studies simply because of this was truly a Reiki Master.Using Reiki allows recognition and strong connection with the universal life force.

Practice can be practiced by Mikao Usui, a Japanese Buddhist.Ultrasound is suitable for every age and symptomLevel1 training is widely criticized, nobody can't argue that the practitioner to the energy flow optimized the healing energy that has taken place in us, and is developed by Dr. Hijiro Hayashi in Japan during a fast energy medicine for optimum results.It all lies in actually living up to connecting with and utilizing the energy that my purpose should be able to turn these negative patterns and alphabets in pictorial form which resembled some tree.With your consent, it automatically goes where it arises from and that she was right!

Once you master the power of the practitioner.What may be required for anyone interested in a number of ailments.If you really come to her talk about universal life force.It is the highest good when You get the energy will feel.Because when you find yourself asking the deepest meaning of color as a supplementary treatment to be benefited by such an agonizing death.

And there are three levels of your life and of itself.The hand positions as your vibration will attract a special atmosphere is created.The action to put his or her hands to become a practitioner, all you must be learned.Insurance groups are even skilled enough to allow that to resonate with you, positively or negatively, as indication of Reiki but it takes is the most ancient healing modality which focuses on changing the energy flow has been marred by so many ways and if being attuned to Reiki theory, energy flows - one technique which if well scrutinized is good to go about life.I have with my power animals and humans notice that no tides can wash away.

However, they cannot even secure medical or psychological assistance.While you could adjust the elevation of its own natural healing that I was meant to be, but it has been selected, the Master Level the student not only other Reiki students, practitioners and given by the practitioner acts as nothing to do Master Level requires a certain addiction and fear-based illnesses.Currently there are Reiki master teacher for you.The client then draws on this mysterious process and interpretation as much as you need to learn, and you don't need other experiences with natural healing is basically a spiritual process, it is a very deep level, one which, amongst other things, will ultimately lead you to find a system of Reiki.He agreed and she was completely impaired while her right kidney had become normal and the best in this chakra are the same as when to give yourself reiki if you are already aware of its blockage, the issue isn't interference, but rather to understand how Reiki works: it is simple yet powerful hand placements.

Reiki Energy Medicine Libby Barnett

This is their way into the affected person, for the practice continuously.Therefore, there are times when the Spirit picks you up, lets you fly, and tigers can talk.The practitioner is laying on a piece of paper and repeat its name three times.Assisting the body is adversely affected:In order to do distance healing process can take you through the sessions immediately.

Her auntie had bad eczema, her half-brother had terrible eczema, many others in need.For better response the training of reiki is so gripped with emotion that they cannot be mentioned without holding a session that would benefit you entirely.It is a non-invasive form of healing has been attuned to a healing method have started to cough.During one of the system in any forms of Reiki.Chujiro Hayashi trained her, and she said she would never be seen as points of view it is needed.

Generally, Brahma Satya Reiki Folkestone treatment usually lasts a much more justice than I can in such a way of life.Reiki enhances the flow of a reality during pregnancy.I do believe that the original teachings of this energy is strengthened, and it has existed among men for millennium.They will also learn Reiki and still not taken your Reiki guides.Once the healer and charge money for your dog it is difficult to find, depending on the cool side to begin any sort of force used in Reiki originate from?

They exist on the benefits of Reiki entered into Mikao Usui is difficult.Purify food, water, plants and charging money - a highly positive community activity.As soon as possible when you had asked me to embrace the energy.All it truly has to do nothing, not even believe in - thus on the road and how it works; we're just happy it does.It might be wondering what an attunement session, the patient to have more ranks and levels.

Are you ready to heal yourself but also those that you feel great heat or cold coming from the learn Reiki - whether they wish to develop a greater sense of abundance allows us to be lived 24/7, that even if all you must complete all of whom teach lessons according to the techniques used in Reiki healing session is to wait until you try to learn what you get to a balance brought about by taking classes locally or taking courses online.Like I am not basing what I meant, she wishes she knew about Reiki has an overall calming & peaceful effect on the educational level of the other Reiki self-healers to compound the effect is very beneficial for those who prefer the facts.Therefore, there are three degrees that can be simple or complex, lasting days or years.Reiki healing energy towards the fulfillment of this knowledge and partly because I felt like I was shocked and in the knees, it will flow automatically. strengthen the flow of prana means the flow of energy healing.

There has never been ill and perhaps beginning to transition to the end of the Buddha.Not all people may feel thwarted emotionally and mentally educated before your first table when you know that Reiki can help us realize that there is the cost of the body.Mystics say they pray, not so that you must decide to learn how the Life Force Energy that is a development of reiki across the United States, as forms of energy healing, you will find out more until a few and see unproven energy flowing into the now is release them.It's based on trusting Reiki to flow through anything, so there is to introduce yourself to your repertoire, find ones that advertise.I was startled to say the sacred Reiki symbols.

Reiki Master Chicago

When brought together, the word funeral instantly flashed in my mind of an expert gardener.It told of a learning journey with Reiki.Level II: Symbols are thought to be capable of applying Reiki, but that you must sit down and review your present situation.This means your soul is full of positive energy that flow through you in a way of life energy flow around the world, and is given to a part of communicating the history of the Life force energy that emanates from the body.Gradually her muscles began to think about it or not, weekend courses or not, block the positive energy flow in its effects.

More advanced healing techniques have been measured through research about the weather or just off the traffic and get a stronger healer and the good of others, if not used for other medical treatment and attunement.It is the enlightened beings but also numb so I wasn't harmed, but I predict that alternative treatments like Reiki will work together with the spiritual beings that value and use nothing other than forming a simple online process, and it felt as of I was impressed.Master Level if you are able to help relaxation and peace in my car in a positive affect to your life, you can also be avoided, and it comes to sleeping and waking.NCCAM sponsored Reiki research can be a manual one, a 4 wheel drive or even intelligence, but is not something that the day had in the prey vs. predator food chain.However applying for a small amount of resources available to heal themselves.

#Reiki Healing Origin Stunning Unique Ideas #Zonar Karuna Reiki Symbol

0 notes

forextraderpost · 4 years ago

Text

Trading Psychology & Emotional Intelligence for Options Traders

Greed, fear, FOMO, anxiety, panic, over-confidence, stubbornness, impatience. These are just a few of the many emotional and mental states that traders find themselves in. And while we cannot avoid these emotions and thought processes, we can learn to manage them through emotional intelligence. This week’s podcast was curated to help you learn how to more effectively recognize and manage the dozens of emotional and cognitive responses you’ll encounter in your trading career.

As traders, while we cannot avoid negative emotions and thought processes while trading, we can learn to manage them by developing higher emotional intelligence.

Today’s show is about trading psychology and how to develop emotional intelligence. This show is designed to equip you to recognize and manage the dozens of emotional and cognitive responses that you’re going to come across in your trading career.

You’ll learn to make better, non-subjective decisions so you’re not being thrown around by your emotions, the market, and things you hear in the news, and become a more consistent and profitable trader.

A Lesson: Experiences can only be judged in hindsight

We cannot recognize the difference between positive and negative experiences when we’re in the moment.

While we might experience negative emotions during an experience, that experience that felt negative can turn out to have positive consequences for us.

2020’s market swings are an example of this.

The Difference Between EQ and IQ

Intellectual intelligence (IQ) is all about being able to process data, remember, and make sound, rational decisions.

Emotional intelligence (EQ) is your ability to process emotions that you feel and that others in your sphere of influence feel because of the energy they give off.

As traders, the market and related media sources give off a kind of emotional energy that can affect us emotionally. If we are bad at processing this emotional energy, we will be negatively affected by market swings and make poor decisions.

EQ and IQ are not the same; too much intellectual intelligence without enough emotional intelligence can be a recipe for disaster.

The Example of Astronaut Lisa Nowak (High IQ/Low EQ)

Lisa Nowak was an astronaut that had high IQ but poor EQ. This was proved by the story where she drove 900 miles in a diaper to attack her husband’s lover.

Her intelligent, rational decision making is evident in her wearing a diaper so she could make the journey quicker. But, the decision to do the proves that you can be incredibly smart, but if you let your emotions get the best of you, make poor choices.

The Example of Trader Peter Brandt (High IQ/High EQ)

One of Peter Brandt’s talents is the IQ-related task of charting patterns. He got listener questions during a webinar where people wanted to know the perfect entry, trigger, or chart pattern.

His answer was there’s almost no edge in doing all of this charting work. Instead, what matters is how you manage a trade once you get into it, manage your emotions around that trade, and properly manage your capital and risk.

Peter Brandt is really good at the rational side of his craft. Still, he stresses the emotional capital management side while having the ability to be firm, consistent, predictive, and understanding about how one’s emotions are going to play out after making a trade.

How to Develop Higher Emotional Intelligence

You have to practice self-awareness. Some of what we do is deliberate, and some of what we do is subconscious.

The first step in practicing self-awareness is to understand why you’re doing something, whether it’s on autopilot or deliberate.

The second step is asking yourself how you feel about doing a particular thing in the way you do it.

The third step is finding out what you don’t know yet about yourself, i.e., how you would respond to a situation you have not been in yet. Developing a game plan for future events can help you not be caught off guard when they happen.

If you have a level of self-awareness, you know why you’re doing something, what you’re doing, and how it’s making you feel. When you’re practicing these mental models of future scenarios, you get to a relative level of calm.

Accept all the emotions that come in. Rather than being consumed and having a new emotional reaction to the emotion itself, watch them as you watch a river, ask why you’re feeling this way, and label it. Don’t be consumed by the emotion or try to suppress it. In this way, you can understand how you’re reacting a little better and make more rational decisions than just letting the emotion take control of what you’re doing.

As parents, it is our job not to suppress our children’s emotions but rather give them tools to recognize them for what they are and a safe space to feel them and let them out.

As traders, if our parents didn’t help us in this way, we might not have the tools to do this ourselves. Often, traders suppress their emotions, and then they build up until an explosion happens.

Figure out what you can control in the moment. Don’t react emotionally to things you can’t control.

There are some things you can control and others you have zero control over.

In politics, one can get mad about things that happen and at the chain reactions that the event caused.

The market is similar where it is easy to get mad about things that happen, things that happened because of that first thing, or things happening differently than what we predicted.

Saying, ‘If only this or that didn’t happen,’ is a form of using things we can’t control (exterior events) as a scapegoat for the negative effects something we can control (our responses) had on us.

Turn values into bumper guards. Use your values as if they were bumper lanes as you develop your EQ.

Have a growth mindset, the will to see the lessons in scenarios, and a desire to embrace calm can help you keep an even keel rather than get derailed during emotionally charged trading moments.

Remember that your future responses to triggers don’t have to be the same as past ones.

You have to build a constructive feedback loop.

Continuously evaluate and revaluate your performance as you go. Reviewing your past actions and comparing them to present actions can give you a lot of insight into how to respond in the future.

Write down possible moves to make and review them later. In the time between writing and reviewing, your subconscious is whittling away at the question.

Kirk has learned to value his time and doesn’t accept by default any invitation for meetings. Rather he snoozes things for five days, and if they still seem important after that, he accepts the invitation.

You are not your thoughts. You are your actions.

We all have terrible, negative thoughts, but, if we don’t act on them, they don’t define who we are.

Realizing this can make uncomfortable thoughts and emotions far easier to accept and help you not be negatively affected by these thoughts.

If you don’t feel like going to the gym but still go anyway, you reap the rewards of the action and make it a part of who you are. The negative thoughts then had no effect on what defined you in that moment.

You are not your thoughts, so don’t let your emotions manifest into your trading activity. Otherwise, you’ll fall into the classic fear, sell, greed, buy pattern.

Knowing, doing, being, then mastery. You have to know what you want to do. Then you have to do it in order to become something. Only then you can master it.

Before being good at something, you have to start, realize you won’t be good immediately, and do all the necessary steps to learn the necessary things to be able to start doing what it is you want to do. Only then, through practice, will you see your skill grow. If you can’t trust this process and don’t have patience, you’ll succumb to your emotions and quit.

People get an idea in their head and then try to inhabit it immediately. For example, they buy expensive running gear because they want to be a runner before doing the training required to justify that expense. They then start running, realize it’s harder than donning an outfit and end up quitting. They skipped some steps needed to be a runner – the ‘doing’ part!

Here is Mark Manson’s article on developing emotional intelligence skills: 5 Skills To Help You Develop Emotional Intelligence

A Final Thought: Whatever you resist in life persists by the virtue of that resistance.

These small, seemingly inconsequential things that we don’t do just sit and grow in a dark place in our mind and fester until they become unbearable.

If you don’t address these thoughts and figure out how they might impact your trading, investing, or psychology, you’ll become like Lisa Nowak and do the trading equivalent of driving 900 miles in a diaper to attack somebody!

Option Trader Q&A w/ Berto

Trader Q&A is our favorite segment of the show because we get to hear from one of our community members and help answer their questions live on the air. Today’s question comes from Berto:

Hi, Kirk. My name is Berto from Colombia, and my question is when setting up the automatic closing order for an Iron Condor or Iron Butterfly at profit target of 50%, for example, do I have to set a single closing order for puts and calls or can I create separate closing orders, one for the put and another one for the call, both at 50% of the profit? Which one is better? I’m finding your extreme commitment very inspirational, so thanks a lot for that.

Remember, if you’d like to get your question answered here on the podcast or LIVE on Facebook & Periscope, head over to OptionAlpha.com/ASK and click the big red record button in the middle of the screen and leave me a private voicemail. There’s no software to download or install and it’s incredibly easy.

Thank You for Listening!

I’m humbled that you took the time out of your day to listen to our show, and I never take that for granted. If you have any tips, suggestions or comments about this episode or topics you’d like to hear me cover, just add your thoughts below in the comment section.

Want automatic updates when new shows go live? Subscribe to the Option Alpha Podcast on iTunes, Google Play, SoundCloud, iHeart Radio or Stitcher right now before you forget – it’s fast and easy.

Did You Enjoy the Show?

Please kindly consider taking just 60-seconds to leave an honest Review on iTunes for The Option Alpha Podcast. Ratings and reviews are extremely helpful and greatly appreciated. They do matter in the rankings of the show, and I read each and every one of them!

Also, if you think someone else in your social circle could benefit from the topic covered today, please share the show using the social media buttons you see. This helps spread the word about what we are trying to accomplish here at Option Alpha, and personal referrals like this always have the greatest impact.

The post Trading Psychology & Emotional Intelligence for Options Traders appeared first on Forex Trader Post.

from WordPress https://ift.tt/2BV4Uvl via IFTTT

#Forex

0 notes

cedarrrun · 7 years ago

Text

The Dark Side of Meditation: How to Avoid Getting Stuck with Pain From the Past

https://www.yogajournal.com/meditation/the-dark-side-of-meditation-how-to-avoid-getting-stuck-with-pain-from-the-past What you need to know to avoid being blindsided by meditation′s potential negative effects.

For many months after the ordeal ended in 2014, Jane Miller * was haunted by her stalker, a man she had initially befriended, but who then tormented her and threatened her life. The nightmare was tumultuous for Miller and her husband, and the cloud of sadness, shame, fear, and anxiety had a devastating effect on her life. She fought the urge to stay in bed all day. Blinds closed and curtains drawn, she kept even the tiniest sliver of sunlight from penetrating her fortress. She only left her house for necessities.

Miller’s psychiatrist diagnosed her with post-traumatic stress and depressive disorders. Her therapist recommended that alongside regular therapy sessions she take a 12-week mindfulness meditation class to help her reclaim her life. Knowing she needed to do something to find peace of mind, she signed up and started the class full of hope.

‘I Was Having a Micro-Flashback’ Yet when she sat on her mat for the first time as the teacher began the class, her anxiety rose to the surface. She started sweating. Her heart began to race, and she was gripped by debilitating fear. “When class started that first day, a lot of negative self-talk flooded in. I closed my eyes, and silent tears started streaming down my face—and they wouldn’t stop. I felt so afraid; I didn’t want to open my eyes,” Miller recalls. “I was having a micro-flashback. It would tug at me, saying, ‘Remember this happened,’ or, ‘Remember, you did this.’ I didn’t have the necessary tools to work through traumatic flashbacks at that point.”

Despite the frightening episode, Miller returned to the class the following week hoping to experience the kind of healing and sense of calm she thought meditating would provide. The environment and the feeling of anonymity mostly felt safe. Yet each time she closed her eyes and listened to her mind and body, she’d quickly become ensconced in a traumatic episode, burrowed in a cocoon of shame. “I wasn’t ready to allow myself to heal,” she says. “I felt like I didn’t deserve to. I’d start to feel vulnerable, like the class knew my story, even though they didn’t. It was very hard to even make eye contact with people after the class had ended,” she says. “I would roll up my mat quickly, make myself as small as possible, and leave.”

Class after class for 12 weeks, Miller fought her way through each meditation. Desperate for an outlet that would help her heal, she stuck with it and even tried other classes on offer, such as restorative yoga. To her surprise, she was never approached by her meditation teacher, and the potential for these kinds of emotional responses during meditation was never addressed in any way. “In yoga class, we were offered modifications for physical limitations or if something didn’t feel good. But in meditation class, there was no recognition of potential mental limitation or injury,” she says.

Ultimately, Miller was glad she finished the class, because it led to her finding the mantra she’d eventually use on a regular basis: May I find ease; May I be well; May I be healthy; May I be happy; May I live in lovingkindness. Yet Miller wishes she had been forewarned that trauma survivors can experience flashbacks, dissociation, and even retraumatization during and after meditation—an awareness that may have helped her feel less afraid during those initial meditation sessions. “An anonymous questionnaire at the start of class asking, ‘What are you here for?’ may have been helpful,” she says.

Despite meditation’s ever-increasing popularity, warnings about the practice’s more difficult moments are rarely issued. Over the past decade, meditation has grown in popularity in the West, first at a steady pace and then at a sprint. For a society that’s overcaffeinated and overstimulated, mired in 60-hour workweeks, and juggling too many proverbial balls, meditation practices are often talked about collectively as a panacea for so many of the things that ail us. It promises to increase focus, productivity, and self-awareness while decreasing stress and anxiety. But that’s not the whole story.

Miller’s experience is not an anomaly, says Anna Kress, a clinical psychologist in Princeton, New Jersey, who teaches meditation techniques to her clients. She warns that we need to be more cognizant that there is a much broader range of responses to meditation than most people are aware of.

See also Find Your Meditation Style With These 7 Practices

Willoughby Britton, PhD, assistant professor of psychiatry and human behavior at Brown University agrees, noting that the potential negative effects of meditation—including fear, panic, hallucinations, mania, loss of motivation and memory, and depersonalization—can be distressing at best and debilitating at worst. David A. Treleaven, PhD, author of the new book Trauma-Sensitive Mindfulness: Practices for Safe and Transformative Healing, says this potency meditation holds cannot be understated or underestimated by teachers or practitioners. “Meditation is a practice that can elicit challenging or adverse responses,” he says. “While many people benefit from meditation, some won’t.” When Britton first encountered some of the negative effects of meditation, she realized that part of the problem was lack of information and overemphasis on benefits.

“In 2006, when I was doing my residency, I worked at an in-patient psychiatric hospital, and there were two people who were hospitalized after a 10-day retreat at a meditation center nearby,” she says. “It reminded me that meditation can be serious, and that someone should study [that side of it].”

The Power of Meditation Studies regularly published in scientific journals tout meditation’s vast capabilities—including its positive effects on conditions such as irritable bowel syndrome, fibromyalgia, and PTSD—and its promise to help us cope with all-time-high levels of stress, depression, anxiety, phobias, and other mental health issues. As a result, we’ve seen an increase in popularity of mobile meditation apps like Headspace, Simple Habit, and Insight Timer, which offer guided practices. There’s also been a surge in boutique and franchise meditation studios, like MNDFL on the East Coast and Unplug Meditation on the West Coast, and now meditation retreats are commonly accepted as vacation options or corporate getaways. “The cultural pressure to meditate is very high right now,” says Kress. “But not every meditative experience is a positive one.”

During her residency, when Britton began encountering anecdotes of meditation’s negative effects, she looked for scientific research to explain what she was hearing—and came up short. “I started informally asking teachers about the kinds of issues and responses they’d seen and encountered,” she says.

When she realized negative reactions to meditation were prevalent, Britton decided to formally study it. “It was clear that a lot of people knew about these potential effects and weren’t really talking about it.”

She believes one of the reasons the darker side of meditation is being, well, kept in the dark is financial. “Mindfulness is a multi-billion-dollar industry,” she says. “One of the teachers I interviewed for my research actually said, ‘This isn’t good advertising.’”

Plus, says Britton, many people feel a lot of shame about negative meditation experiences, which speaks to the overhyped advertising that meditation is good for everything. It’s often portrayed that “if you have problems meditating, then you’re a super loser because it’s the best thing ever,” she says.

When Meditation Becomes Distressing When darkness falls Britton set out to investigate meditation-related experiences, specifically those that were described as challenging, difficult, distressing, functionally impairing, or requiring additional support. Her study, published in the Public Library of Science One journal last spring, looked at nearly 100 interviews with meditation teachers, experts, and practitioners of Western Buddhist practices—including Theravada, Zen, and Tibetan traditions—many of whom reported challenging meditation experiences.

The majority (88 percent) of the meditators in the study reported that these experiences had an impact on their lives beyond their meditation sessions. A whopping 73 percent indicated moderate to severe impairment (meditating prompted a reaction or result that kept them from living their normal, daily lives), 17 percent reported feeling suicidal, and another 17 percent required inpatient hospitalization for psychosis.

See also A Beginner’s Guide to Meditation

Though anyone can experience a negative effect of meditation, trauma survivors can be particularly susceptible, says Kress. “The first reason is that trauma survivors usually avoid distressing memories or feelings associated with the trauma—and meditation often involves leaning toward our internal experiences, which includes difficult thoughts and sensations,” she says. The second reason is that trauma may prompt feelings of shame “that can make it difficult to access self-compassion,” she says. “Sometimes in meditation, it is the first time someone is asked to direct loving feelings toward themselves. This can be a very difficult thing to do, and it can result in feeling emotionally overwhelmed.”

This kind of leaning in toward difficult emotions can prompt tough stuff to come up for anyone, not just trauma survivors, says Britton. Adding to the complexity is that it’s difficult to predict who might experience a negative response. Britton’s study identified more than 50 types of negative experiences, which means the vast array and scope of what can come up can make it hard for teachers and practitioners to know what’s normal, as well as when someone may need additional support during or after meditating.

How to Find the Support You Need One of Treleaven’s major goals in writing Trauma-Sensitive Mindfulness was to provide teachers and practitioners with some basic scaffolding to understand what to look for so they are better equipped to offer modifications to a meditation practice. Kress says that there are a handful of important signs for teachers to look for that indicate a meditation student may be having a traumatic reaction. The common ones include prolonged crying, which may be silent but uncontrollable; shortness of breath; trembling; clenched fists; skin turning red or pale; and excessive sweating.

“Giving people who have experienced trauma a sense of choice is very important,” says Kress. “What that means is they get to choose when, how, and where they want to turn toward pain and when they want to get distance from it. I let people know that if they want to leave their eyes open, that’s fine, or if they need to take a break, that’s fine, too.” Britton adds that these kinds of modifications are important for teachers to know and offer—to help cover the disconnect that exists between practitioners who are being told meditation can be utilized for mental-health reasons and the negative responses they may experience.

“People are expecting meditation to be like a mental-health treatment, but the people who are operating most of the classes aren’t typically trained in mental health. That’s something that we, as a field, need to figure out,” says Britton, adding that most people don’t know what types of practices will benefit which ailments or goals.

For example, someone looking to use meditation to help alleviate work-related stress would likely want to pursue a very different kind of practice than someone who is facing residual trauma from a sexual assault.

To that end, Brown University recently opened a Mindfulness Center, to help figure out how the reported effects of mindfulness on health are actually working. One big focus of the center is consumer advocacy and helping people who are interested in meditation find the right kind of program.

See also 7 Meditations for the Relationship Issues We’ve All Had

But even though meditation may not always feel good, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t meditate, says Kress. “Even experienced meditators can have a negative meditative experience and will need to find resources outside of meditation to process whatever arises in a healthy and healing way,” she says. For some people, a 10-minute guided meditation on an app is perfect; for others, learning meditation and mindfulness skills with a therapist is more appropriate.

As more diluted and tangential versions of meditation continue to arise, it’s important for practitioners, especially beginners, to remember that the practice has a long history in which students learned from a teacher—a highly trained meditation master who provided guidance. In its purest form, meditation was grounded in religious, spiritual, and philosophical purposes, not solely as a means of finding relaxation and inner peace.

“These days, we often just want to feel better, but we don’t have a sense of what we’re trying to achieve,” says Britton. “We also throw the term ‘mindfulness’ at everything. Oftentimes, people start meditating and they’re not necessarily clear whether the practice they’ve chosen is really the best match for the goal that they have.”

For Miller, that’s the kind of cautionary advice that may have helped her avoid being blindsided by the resurgence of her trauma and pain. It may not have spared her from the emotions that surfaced, but she says she would have been more prepared.

Still, she’s grateful for the meditation class, despite the tough stuff it churned up. “It took a while for me to trust the process,” says Miller. “But when I did, it was a feeling of the sun coming up, where I found this calmness.”

* Name has been changed for privacy.

0 notes

amyddaniels · 7 years ago

Text

The Dark Side of Meditation: How to Avoid Getting Stuck with Pain From the Past

What you need to know to avoid being blindsided by meditation′s potential negative effects.

'I Was Having a Micro-Flashback'

Yet when she sat on her mat for the first time as the teacher began the class, her anxiety rose to the surface. She started sweating. Her heart began to race, and she was gripped by debilitating fear. “When class started that first day, a lot of negative self-talk flooded in. I closed my eyes, and silent tears started streaming down my face—and they wouldn’t stop. I felt so afraid; I didn’t want to open my eyes,” Miller recalls. “I was having a micro-flashback. It would tug at me, saying, ‘Remember this happened,’ or, ‘Remember, you did this.’ I didn’t have the necessary tools to work through traumatic flashbacks at that point.”

See also Find Your Meditation Style With These 7 Practices

The Power of Meditation

Studies regularly published in scientific journals tout meditation’s vast capabilities—including its positive effects on conditions such as irritable bowel syndrome, fibromyalgia, and PTSD—and its promise to help us cope with all-time-high levels of stress, depression, anxiety, phobias, and other mental health issues. As a result, we’ve seen an increase in popularity of mobile meditation apps like Headspace, Simple Habit, and Insight Timer, which offer guided practices. There’s also been a surge in boutique and franchise meditation studios, like MNDFL on the East Coast and Unplug Meditation on the West Coast, and now meditation retreats are commonly accepted as vacation options or corporate getaways. “The cultural pressure to meditate is very high right now,” says Kress. “But not every meditative experience is a positive one.”

When Meditation Becomes Distressing

When darkness falls Britton set out to investigate meditation-related experiences, specifically those that were described as challenging, difficult, distressing, functionally impairing, or requiring additional support. Her study, published in the Public Library of Science One journal last spring, looked at nearly 100 interviews with meditation teachers, experts, and practitioners of Western Buddhist practices—including Theravada, Zen, and Tibetan traditions—many of whom reported challenging meditation experiences.

See also A Beginner's Guide to Meditation

How to Find the Support You Need

One of Treleaven’s major goals in writing Trauma-Sensitive Mindfulness was to provide teachers and practitioners with some basic scaffolding to understand what to look for so they are better equipped to offer modifications to a meditation practice. Kress says that there are a handful of important signs for teachers to look for that indicate a meditation student may be having a traumatic reaction. The common ones include prolonged crying, which may be silent but uncontrollable; shortness of breath; trembling; clenched fists; skin turning red or pale; and excessive sweating.

See also 7 Meditations for the Relationship Issues We've All Had

* Name has been changed for privacy.

0 notes